“Can you give me her address? I’d like to make amends in person.”
“I can, but I won’t. Better if you contact her first. Give her the choice.”
It wasn’t the answer Roman wanted, but he understood. “That makes sense.”
As soon as Jasper drove out of the yard, Roman took out his phone and found Grace’s website. He tapped Contact, thumbed a short message, said a quick prayer, and touched Send.
Sighing, Roman looked up. All he had to do now was wait . . . and hope she’d respond.
GRACE COULDN’T SLEEP. After an hour of trying, she decided to get some work done and check her messages. She made coffee and stepped down to her small office. One of her students had sent a term paper for her to edit. She redlined problem areas and wrote comments in a sidebar before sending it back. That done, she responded to another student’s question.
It was after two in the morning when she checked her website e-mail. Her heart leaped when she recognized Roman’s address. The message had been sent at 10:20 that evening. The subject line read Request. She positioned the cursor and then lifted her hand away as though about to burn herself. Was she opening herself up to more heartache? Think before you do anything, Grace. Think! She could delete his message without reading it and pretend she never received it. No, she couldn’t. She’d been praying for weeks. This might be God’s answer. She just hadn’t expected to feel such a jumble of emotions when it came.
Oh, God; oh, Lord . . . She didn’t even know what to ask now.
Pushing her chair back, Grace went up the steps into the kitchen. She poured herself another cup of coffee, then just as quickly poured it out. The last thing she needed was more caffeine. Her pulse was already racing. She went back to her desk. Sitting straight, hands fisted, she stared at the screen. Don’t be such a coward! Just read it, she told herself fiercely. She opened the message.
Grace—I’d like to talk to you in person. If you’re willing, name the time and place. I’ll be there. Roman.
Should she meet him? Why was she even asking that question? She knew this day would come. Hadn’t she been praying about it? She just didn’t feel ready. Will I ever be ready, Lord? She didn’t want to hope for anything.
Multiple possibilities popped into her head. She could meet him in a coffee shop. That would be neutral and safe. She could leave Samuel with Dorothy or Angela. She cast aside one idea after another, sensing all the while what God wanted, if she had the courage for it.
Oh, Lord, help.
Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly as she tapped Respond.
I live in Merced.
Merced was a long way from Los Angeles. Roman would undoubtedly decide she wasn’t worth the drive. Heart still thumping, but feeling justified, she went back to work on another project. It’d be hours before he read the message, and she doubted he’d answer.
A window in the lower right corner of her computer screen popped up with a ping, showing she had a new message from Roman. What was he doing up at three in the morning?
I’m at Masterson Ranch. I can be in Merced in a few hours. Just need an address. Why are you up so early?
She tapped Respond.
Couldn’t sleep. Have work to do. What about you?
I haven’t slept well for months. That’s one of the things I want to talk about with you.
She didn’t know what to make of that and leaned back in her chair.
Another message popped up.
Sorry. That probably came out wrong. Don’t worry, Grace. I promise to keep my hands to myself.
She hesitated so long, another message popped up.
Please. Talk to me.
Please was a word she’d never heard him say. She typed her address and set two o’clock for their meeting time. She sent it before she could change her mind, and then hoped the appointment wouldn’t work for him.
His response came quickly.
Thank you. See you at 2.
Roman packed his duffel bag, set it by the front door, and went into the kitchen to tell Chet and Susan why he was leaving a day early. He could smell the coffee and bacon. Chet stood at the counter talking to his wife as she speared slices of sizzling meat and turned them over on the griddle. Chet noticed him first. Glancing over her shoulder, Susan smiled. “Good grief, you’re up early.”
“Sorry to be cutting the visit short, but I’ll be back. I contacted Grace. We’re meeting this afternoon in Merced.”
Chet’s brows rose. “Sounds serious.”
“As serious as it can get. I’m hoping she’ll hear me out.”