Remembered: Grace Sufficient, #3.5

By Vanessa Hall

Even blissful marriage and the Christmas season don't change the hard reality of the world …

Three months into their marriage, Nikolai and Molly find themselves rocked by sudden unemployment mere weeks before Christmas. And when unexpected news comes to light, their future becomes even more uncertain. In spite of trials, will Nikolai and Molly remember unchangeable Truth—the Truth of Christmas?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vanessa Hall
• Release date: Dec 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215188231

Vanessa Hall

Vanessa Hall is an author, musician, and homeschool graduate. Most days, she is reading, writing, or practicing the violin—or trying to find time for all three pursuits. Currently, she is working toward gaining a degree in instrumental music education. Unknown is her debut novel, set to release in 2021. Above all, she is a sinner saved and held fast by the abounding grace of Jesus Christ.

Book preview

Chapter 1

THIS IS A LOAD OF FUN, isn’t it, Alexandrov? Dolgorukov smacked his shovel against the embankment of frozen earth, and the dull ring wavered through the cold air.

Nick tipped his head as he paced down the long trench that’d eventually house a new drainage system. It’s work. And work wasn’t so hard, nor so long, when he knew who was waiting at home.

A smile tempted his lips, but years of becoming a Russian stayed it.

Dolgorukov’s footsteps crunched behind Nick, joining a mumble. I think we should be paid double to do stuff like this. We have dozers for a reason.

Yeah, but dozers couldn’t clean up edges like a man and a shovel could. And Norin would hardly accept anything other than perfection.

Not to mention it’s freezing.

Nick hefted the shovel over his shoulder, the worn wood sliding against his gloved hands. Dolgorukov should be more used to the cold—the man was a native Moscovite.

Or was he?

Nick halted at the end of the trench where loose gravel and clods of dirt still lurked.

This was his job—not wondering over Dolgorukov’s true alliances.

He slid the shovel from his shoulder and jabbed at a pile of gravel.

Thank You, Father, for honest work.

No lies. No gambles. No games.

Just hard work.

A slow breath eased out and clouded white as he tossed the shovelful of gravel over the embankment.

Yeah, it was mundane and eventually backbreaking, yet it provided for Molly. And maybe there’d even be a little left over for a Christmas present.

Alexandrov!

The man’s voice jerked Nick’s hands, lurching the shovel, and bits of gravel rained back into the trench as ice trickled down his spine.

No need.

Nick threw the remaining earth and gravel over the side and turned toward the source of the voice. Yeah?

Norin stood taller than ever thanks to the embankment, and that perpetual frown still darkened his features. Get up here. I need to talk to you.

Wonderful. Yes, sir. Nick propped the shovel on the earthen wall.

Norin pivoted, shoulders tight. Have to talk to you for a minute.

Which could mean anything.

Nick settled his hands on the solid earth and levered out of the trench, the impact gripping an ache in his thigh. Frozen grass crunched under his boots as he trailed Norin toward a company truck, his pulse more than doubling his steps.  

Please, Lord, no.

Surely Norin hadn’t discovered anything. More than a year ago, he hadn’t looked twice at the paperwork.

But anything could change.

Nick swallowed against the band wrapping his throat as he neared the truck.

Please. Please let it be nothing.

Norin crossed his arms, his gaze hard as Nick approached.

Waiting.

For what? For Nick to break under the light scrutiny?

Sweat tingled his scalp under the wool hat.

It wouldn’t take much.

He stilled a couple of paces from Norin, settled his weight evenly on both feet.

And yet the man just eyed him, gaze as frigid as the breeze hissing through the bare trees. A couple of shouts rose from the far end of the trench, mingling with the growl of a dozer.

Mercy, Lord, please ...

Norin blew out a hard breath. You’re a good worker, Alexandrov. You’re always prompt. You don’t complain. He grunted. That Dolgorukov needs to learn.

His pulse eased a notch.

Compliments. A raise, maybe?

Or the opposite.

Please, Lord, not right now.

Not when things were tighter than ever.

Anyway. Norin lowered his arms, scowl untouched. As you know, the economy’s getting worse and worse, and business has been slow. I don’t like doing this—especially to my good employees—but I have to let you go.

No.

Breath even, blinks at a natural pace, hands loose at his sides.

But now, when pay had been lower than usual these past few months? And added to three missed days for that short honeymoon ...

Maybe it would’ve been better to spend his days working to provide for Molly instead of soaking in her smiles and laughter and love.

But he gave the necessary tip of his head.

Lord, what am I supposed to do?

Sorry to do this. Norin’s frown finally eased, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. I know right now’s not easy for anyone.

Another nod, and Nick cleared his throat against the scratchiness. Yeah. But I understand.

Kind of.

Norin nodded. Today’s your final day.

No chance to even prepare. But the words came, steady and automatic. All right. Thanks for letting me know.

You don’t have to act thankful, Alexandrov. Norin reached into his heavy coat—likely for a smoke. The higher-ups never care about the little guy.

Bitterness burned the back of Nick’s throat. Wasn’t that the truth.

Yet maybe that was why he still lived in safety—the higher-ups didn’t care about a rebellious minion. Yeah, well, I’m thankful for what ... for what the Lord’s provided.

As if those words had to stall on his tongue.

I am thankful, Lord. Just ...

Another job was another set of risks. Another plunge into the dark, another wild gamble that could reveal his past.

A past that could get him killed. Could get Molly killed.

His gut churned the soup she’d made for his lunch.

Please, God, no. Please keep her safe.

That’s a nice perspective you have. Norin stuck a cigarette in his mouth