Saving Grace

Chapter 1 – And Then There Shall be . . . Three?

Bret reached for her hand and, as usual, it was there. He turned his head and looked at this wife of his, the woman he'd known for so many years as Ginny Malone, and just the closeness of her made him smile. They hadn't been married all that long, but he'd loved her without fail since the first time he saw her, in that train car on the way to Denver.

It had taken them both a long time to be willing to settle down, if you could even call it that. Bret Maverick was a gambler, a rover, a man that never wanted to stay in one place, and Ginny Malone was his perfect match. A longtime Captain and newly appointed Regional Director for Pinkerton, she'd traveled the country almost as much as he had. Of course, he'd been thrown out of more towns than his wife, and it was something they laughed about.

He had a younger brother, Bart, who'd been his traveling companion for many years, but Bart had long since put down permanent roots in their home town of Little Bend, Texas with his own wife, Doralice Donovan. Together they owned the biggest and brightest saloon in town, Maude's, and there was nobody in Texas that could beat Bart at poker. Doralice tended bar, and Bart still walked the floor every night as her floor manager and ran the place, when he wasn't involved in one high-stakes game or another. They hadn't come up short in the family department, either; there were four miniature Mavericks. The twins were the oldest, Isabelle and Maude, then Beauregard, and finally the baby, Breton.

Bret held onto Ginny's hand tightly – by this time in their marriage they'd expected to have a child or two of their own, but so far they'd had no such luck. If one didn't come along soon . . . they both worried about it, but neither one said anything out loud. Until today.

"Ginny . . . "

She knew that tone of voice; she'd heard it enough over the last few days, always on the same subject. Baby Grace. Grace Louise Manning, to be exact, all of six days old and already an orphan.

Her father was Louis Manning, the sheriff in Claytonville, Texas, and a longtime friend of Bret's. Lou had been killed when a posse he was leading got ambushed, and his horse was accidentally forced over a cliff. His wife of four years, Kitty, was due to give birth to their first child any day and was inconsolable. To put a sad ending to an already heartbreaking story, something went terribly wrong, and Kitty lived just long enough to name her baby daughter.

Bret, along with everyone that knew the Mannings, was devastated. Becoming friends with John Law was never easy for the oldest Maverick son, but he and Lou had grown particularly close. So close, in fact, that Louis would joke about the impending arrival. "Won't matter whether it's a boy or a girl – the baby's gonna be born with black hair, black eyes, and a God-awful desire to play poker. Just like his or her Uncle Bret."

Kitty was beside herself with grief, so Bret and Ginny handled all the arrangements. Little did they know that within two days of Grace's birth, they would be doing the same thing all over again – this time for the baby's mother. Which left Grace with neither mother nor father – and no other relatives.

The little girl had been born exactly as her father predicted – with plenty of black hair and the darkest eyes imaginable. There was no question of the baby's parentage; Lou and Kitty were devoted to each other. At the moment Grace was staying with Reverend and Mrs. Donovan in Claytonville, while the entire town frantically searched for a home for the child.

Bret was off and running with another argument about why . . . well, it was always the same one. From the first moment he'd laid eyes on Grace and held her in his arms, she was his child. He knew she'd need a father in her life as she grew up, and he was more than willing to provide her with one. Ginny understood that from the very beginning, and had no problem with it. For the first two days of Grace's life they were a happy little group . . . Mama Kitty, 'Daddy' Bret, and . . . Aunt Ginny. Then the unthinkable happened, and there was only Daddy Bret . . . and Grace needed a family. A whole family.

Ginny Malone knew exactly what her husband was thinking. Grace needed a mother and father. The Mavericks had waited a long time for a child to appear, and so far there was nothing but an empty spot in both their hearts. Correction. There was an empty spot in her heart.

She'd seen it in his eyes, heard it in his voice, felt it in his kiss. He was in love again, head-over-heels in love again, and she could already sense the jealousy creeping up inside her. Over a six day old baby. If she could just feel the way he did about the child . . . she was trying, giving it her best effort, but so far . .

Maybe that was the problem. Her best effort didn't seem to be good enough. And she didn't know what to do about it.

"Ginny, honey, I've been thinkin' . . . we could take Grace. She needs us, and we've surely got the room. Besides . . . we've been waitin' an awful long time."

There it was . . . the logic, the reasonableness of it all. She looked into his eyes, this man she loved with every ounce of strength she had in her . . . she couldn't deny him his greatest desire, for a child of their own. Yet she couldn't grant him the one thing he wanted more than anything in the world.

"Bret, I . . . I know how you feel. I know how close you were to Lou, and how you feel about Grace. It's just that I . . . I don't feel the same way you do."

He let go of her hand, finally, and turned to face her. He looked stunned . . . he never expected her to feel anything other than what he felt. When Grace was born and put in her mother's arms, and then quickly passed to him, there was such a rush of joy inside him. He never believed he could harbor a love like this for a child that wasn't fathered by him. When Kitty died two days later, the feelings swelled up inside him again and he knew for a fact – Grace Louise Manning was destined to be Grace Louise Maverick. And he was sure that Ginny would agree with him.

But there was something not quite right. Every time he tried to talk to Ginny about it, she put him off. "Supper's almost ready, can we talk about this later?" or "I have to finish this report tonight, Bret. Will this wait until tomorrow?" After four straight days of ducking his not-so-subtle hints, it finally dawned on him – Ginny, his beloved Ginny, wasn't thinking the same way he was. And he didn't understand why.

Neither did Ginny. The little girl was everything the Mavericks had ever wanted in a child. Everything with one exception . . . Ginny Maverick hadn't given birth to her.

"But honey, how can you not? Don't you see how much she needs two parents that love her . . . two parents that need her as much as she needs them . . . how much those parents should be us?"

Ginny stood and turned away from him then, this man that she'd loved for so long that the very thought of ever being without him was like a knife in her stomach. She couldn't stand the pain in his eyes, much less the pain in his voice . . . the pain that her words had put there. What was it about this little girl that stopped Ginny from giving all the love she had inside her to the child? It was a fact that Grace could very easily be their natural child; she looked so much like Bret that it was startling. Everyone that saw the man and baby together just automatically assumed her to be his daughter. And she already cared for Grace who was, after all, the progeny of their best friends. But she couldn't take that final step . . . that acceptance of Grace as their daughter, the final and forever commitment of her heart.

"I just . . . just need a few days, Bret. Please, give me a few more days."

He looked at her with those black, black eyes, and a curtain was drawn down inside them. There was no more pain, no fear, no love, no hope, only . . . emptiness. And for a brief moment, she thought she'd lost him. Then he smiled at her and pulled her into his arms, and she was granted a reprieve. "Whatever you need, darlin'. Whatever you need."