The Grace That Leads Us Home: A Short Story Prequel to What Once Was Lost

By Kim Vogel Sawyer

They were supposed to spend the rest of their lives together…
 
In the wake of her husband’s death, Alice Deaton will do anything to hold her family together. But with life handing her challenge after challenge, will her faith crack under the strain? Or will a kind stranger be able to offer refuge that Alice and her two small children so desperately need?

• Language: English
• Publisher: WaterBrook
• Release date: Jul 30, 2013
• ISBN: 9781601425881

Kim Vogel Sawyer

In 1966, Kim Vogel Sawyer told her kindergarten teacher that someday people would check out her book in libraries. That little-girl dream came true in 2006 with the release of Waiting for Summer's Return. Since then, Kim has watched God expand her dream beyond her childhood imaginings. With more than 50 titles on library shelves and more than 1.5 million copies of her books in print worldwide, she enjoys a full-time writing and speaking ministry. Empty-nesters, Kim and her retired military husband, Don, live in small-town Kansas, the setting for many of Kim’s novels. When she isn't writing, Kim stays active serving in her church's women's ministries, traveling with "The Hubs," and spoiling her quiverful of granddarlings. You can learn more about Kim's writing at www.KimVogelSawyer.com.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Florence, Kansas

October 1886

Are they asleep? Alice Deaton whispered the question as her husband tiptoed into their humble sitting room.

Oscar put a finger against his lips and nodded, his eyes sparkling. Steel gray hair, crow’s-feet, and deep creases leading from his nose to the corners of his mouth proved his boyhood was long past, but his eyes—the brightest, warmest blue—belied his years. He crossed directly to the dry sink where Alice was finishing the supper dishes and wrapped his arms around her middle from behind. He nuzzled her ear, prompting a giggle.

Shh, he murmured into her hair. You’ll wake them. Laura dropped off pretty quick, but it took three stories before Francis gave in to sleep. He’s as stubborn as his pa when it comes time to settle down.

If he turns out like his pa, we’ll be grateful. Alice tipped her head slightly to better feel Oscar’s bristly cheek against hers. Did every wife experience such joy from her husband’s presence? Judging by some of the complaints uttered by other women during gossip sessions, she doubted it. Surely she was abundantly blessed.

Laying aside the final clean silverware, she turned within the circle of his arms and looped her hands behind his neck. Just as she expected, he leaned in for a kiss. As their lips separated, she smiled at him. What did I do to deserve you?

Something pretty good, I’d reckon.

She gave his chest a light slap as she laughed. Oh, such humility you possess, Oscar Deaton! She’d met Oscar late in life, she already thirty and he a year shy of forty when they married. What a blessing he was—a stalwart, honest, hardworking man who loved her and loved their children unconditionally. She closed her eyes for a moment, imagining them growing old together, watching Laura and Francis form families of their own, sitting on porch rockers and laughing as their grandchildren played games in the yard.

He pressed his lips against hers once more with a noisy smack, startling her from her reverie, then released her. Barnes next door asked if I would help him break up some hay bales and scatter the hay over his wife’s flower beds this evening. He said she’s worried the cold will come early this year and catch her unprepared. I’ll head over to do that now before we turn in.

Alice frowned. But it’s late, Oscar—nearly dark already. And you were so tired when you came in from work. His job at the rock quarry often taxed him, but he never complained. She scurried across the floor as he tugged on his jacket. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?

Oscar cupped her face in his hands and shook his head, a mild smile pulling up the corners of his lips. Now, darlin’, it’ll only take an hour. Maybe less. He’s old, and he asked for my help. What kind of neighbor would I be if I refused?

Alice sighed. Oscar was the best kind of neighbor. He helped everyone. But somehow he always had time for her and the children. She shouldn’t fuss at him. She pulled his jacket closed and buttoned it for him. All right then. Go ahead. I’ll put on water for tea, and we’ll sit and sip a cup before we turn in tonight, hmm?

An impish spark lit his eyes. With that leftover gingerbread?

You and your sweet tooth … She released a soft chuckle as she walked him to the door. I’ll have it waiting for you.

Perfect.

As she closed the door behind him, she sighed. Yes, indeed, her life was perfect. A loving, attentive husband, two beautiful children, a small but comfortable home … God, You’ve blessed me so abundantly. Thank You. She couldn’t be happier.

Four days later

Alice placed her hand on the dark mound of earth covering a new grave. Could Oscar really be gone? The moist, freshly turned soil beneath her palm was real, not a dream, yet the day held