A Touch of Grace (20 page)

His brother’s jaw tightened. “When I had to.”

Little boy though he’d been, Collin had served as a surrogate parent to him and Drew. He’d done things no child should have to do. Lied, stolen, found shelter and food and clothes for his little brothers.

“You always said you weren’t hungry. But you were.” Tears welled in Ian’s eyes. “I didn’t understand that then. I was so little…”

He felt guilty for all the times he’d eaten Collin’s share.

Collin hitched a shoulder as though denying himself food so that Ian and Drew could eat was no big deal.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Ian couldn’t talk. He couldn’t think. His chest ached. He was a grown man and he wanted to fall into Collin’s arms like a little kid and cry. The way he’d done when he was four-years-old.

Collin must have seen the truth in his face. He reached out, gripped the top of Ian’s hand and said, “You all right?”

“I need some time, okay?” Ian choked out. Time to pray, time to figure out why he’d never remembered before and why his mother hadn’t told him.

He shoved back from the table, insides trembling with raw emotion. Collin rose, too, quiet, intense, and waiting.

“I’m at the Sheraton. Give me a call when you’re ready.”

Head thundering with images, mind whirling with the revelation, stunned and dazed, Ian turned to leave and then twisted back to the man who had just torn his world apart while putting it back together. “Collin.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll call. I promise.”

For the first time, the big, intense man’s face softened, and he smiled.

Chapter Fifteen

G
retchen ground her teeth in frustration as she maneuvered through traffic. Why didn’t these people stay home?

By the time she’d paid for the fettuccine she hadn’t eaten and rushed out into the parking lot, both Ian and the stranger had disappeared.

She slammed the heel of her hand against the steering wheel. The clock on the dash glowed the time in bright yellow. Mike expected a teaser before the last broadcast. And all she had was innuendo and some fuzzy photos.

To make things worse, she had no desire to do her job. She wanted to talk to Ian, find out what was happening. More than that, she wanted him to share whatever was bothering him lately. After tonight, she suspected the worst, but she could handle it. What she couldn’t handle was losing him.

The truth hit her like a brick through the windshield.

Ian’s opinion of her had become more important than anything else in her life. She was in danger of falling into the religion trap again, fooled by a smooth, sweet-talking preacher. She couldn’t let that happen.

“Not again. Never again.”

And yet the very heart of her cried out against betraying Ian. She had the power to destroy Isaiah House, to make sure that no sensible human ever donated to the mission again. Was that the right thing to do? Did Ian deserve that? Even if he’d made some kind of mistake, didn’t he deserve a second chance? She knew him too well now to believe he would take funds from the mission without a very good reason. But was any reason good enough when the best interest of the public was in question?

Ian was the only one who knew the answers.

Instead of going to the television station as she’d planned, Gretchen, mind spinning, headed toward Isaiah House. If Ian was the man she wanted him to be, he’d be man enough to answer all her questions. And if he didn’t, the refusal would be a different kind of answer altogether. Either way, she’d know.

So she didn’t lose her nerve, she phoned her boss to renew the promise. She’d be back at the station in time to film that teaser, whether positive or negative. The choice was up to Ian.

She hurried into the mission and raced up the steps to Ian’s office. He wasn’t there.

Frustration mounting, she started back down, passed his private quarters. On a hunch, she pounded on the door.

Several long seconds passed while she tapped her foot impatiently on the hardwood flooring. “Are you in there?”

The lock clicked and the door swung open. She stormed inside. “You lied.”

“Nice to see you, too.”

“Don’t try your sweet talk on me. It won’t work anymore. I need answers and I need them now.” She paced to a chair, grabbed a pillow and threw it at the bed.

Ian’s frown moved from her face to the tossed pillow and back again. “What are you talking about?”

She couldn’t help noticing the strain around his mouth and the worry in his electric-blue eyes. Even annoyed, she loved his eyes.

“I saw you at the Treehouse.”

A beat passed and then, “Since when do I have to tell you about my dinner plans?”

That hurt. “You led me to believe you were having a routine evening.”

“But you followed me anyway.” Ian’s nostrils flared, then his shoulders slumped as if his strength was gone. “I should probably be angry about that but…”

“I knew something was wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Another lie.” She stopped pacing the small room and glared at him. “That man had a gun.”

“That man—” Hands on hips, he took a deep breath and blew it out. “Can we talk about this calmly? Please? I’ve had kind of a rough day.”

His weariness was almost palpable. Whatever was wrong was taking a toll. As much as she wanted to be
angry at his secretiveness, he was still Ian and she was worried about him.

“I thought we cared about each other, Ian. I thought we were at least friends.” Did that sound pitiful or what? “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Sit down, okay? I’m afraid you’re going to destroy my apartment.” The hint of a grin softened the words.

The apartment as he called it wasn’t much. The small space reminded her of a hotel room with a bed and nightstand, a television on a chest, and a small table and chairs jammed into the corner.

She chose one of the chairs. “Who was that man and why did you lie about meeting him?”

He held up a hand. “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you.”

She waved him off. “Whatever. Who was he? Why did he have a gun?”

“He’s a cop.”

Alarm raced up her spine. The problem with the audit must be worse than rumored. “Are you in big trouble?”

He smiled. The man was hub deep in hot water and he smiled. “No. At least, not the kind you’re talking about. The meeting was personal business that has nothing to do with the mission.”

Personal business. That could mean about anything, including something very illegal. “Are you going to tell me?”

After a long pause in which she’d imagined all sorts of nefarious activities, Ian said, “I have to make a trip to Baton Rouge and talk to my mother first. I can’t risk having her upset by secondhand information.”

A warning raised the hairs on her neck. If he was con
cerned about his mother finding out, the situation must be worse than she imagined. “Ian, what have you done?”

“Nothing worthy of your news channel. This is personal.”

“Then let me help. I have a little savings if it’s money you need.”

He gave her a funny look. “Why do you think I need money?”

“That man at the restaurant. The gun. I saw you exchange something. Some papers and something else. You have to admit that’s pretty suspicious.”

Ian stared at her for two beats. “You’re not going to let up, are you?”

“I can’t.”

He circled the room once, twice. Gretchen waited, silent and watchful. Ian was stressed like she’d never seen before.

Finally, he came to a stop in front of her. “His name is Collin Grace. He’s my brother.”

Her heart sank. He was lying. “You’re an only child.”

“So I thought.” He scrubbed the heel of his hand over his forehead. “I was pretty shocked, let me tell you. Right now, I haven’t absorbed all of it. I came back here to think and pray.”

She wasn’t buying any of this. If he thought he could make up some wild story to distract her from doing the report, he was crazy. And she was disappointed that he’d even try.

“How could he possibly be your brother?”

“Apparently I was adopted when I was four or five.”

He was either too distraught to concoct a sensible lie
or he thought she was stupid. “At that age you would remember having a brother.”

“That’s the part that has me so bewildered.” He sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. “Give me a little time to think about it, okay? I have to talk to Mom first. For some reason, she’s kept the truth from me. I have to know why.”

Unless he was a great actor, he truly was upset and confused. The question remained, was the man his brother? And if so, was Ian distraught over the news or over something to do with the audit? Or were they one and the same? Was the brother a bad egg causing problems for his minister brother? Would Ian pay him off to keep him quiet?

“Is he blackmailing you?”

“What?”

“My sources say there’s money missing in the audit.”

His shoulders slumped. “Okay, then. Since you know that much, I’ll admit it. But the money has nothing to do with Collin.”

“You’re telling me the two incidents, coming one on top of the other, are not related?”

“Yes, I am. And I’d rather you didn’t mention either one for a few days.”

He had to be kidding. “Ian, there’s money missing from your accounts. I can’t let that go.”

“Give me a few days. That’s all I’m asking.”

“How much money are we talking about?” And what does it have to do with the man at the restaurant?

“Twenty thousand.”

She struggled to keep calm. Did he not realize what a huge sum that was? “Who’s responsible?”

With a kind of intensity she’d never seen in him, Ian paced to the table, picked up a Bible and flipped aimlessly through the pages before closing it again.

Finally, he looked at her and in the quietest possible voice said, “I am.”

Her heart fell to her toes. “Oh, Ian. Why? Why?”

Eyes burning with the need to cry, she squeezed them shut. Her heart hurt with the knowledge that she’d done it again. Ian was no different from Brother Gordon.

A rustle of movement and Ian went down on his knees in front of her, taking her hands in his. His touch was warm and strong and sure. She should pull away but she couldn’t.

“I didn’t say I took the money. I said I’m responsible. Everything that happens here is my responsibility.”

She wanted to believe him, but experience made her skeptical. “Are you covering for someone?”

And what did the man at the restaurant have to do with any of this?

He shook his head. “Isaiah House is a clean operation, Gretchen. We have our problems like any other place.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “A lot of them lately, but the work we do has never suffered. You’ve been here. You’ve seen the changed lives.”

He released her then and stood.

“All I’m asking is that you give me a little more time. Then I’ll tell you everything.”

“Give me a reason to believe you, Ian. You know I want to. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I wish I could.” He spread his arms out to the side, vulnerable. “You know me. You know what kind of man I am. Sometimes you have to take things on blind faith.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“All right then. Forget me. This ministry has never been about me anyway. It’s about Him. About doing the work that Jesus did. I don’t care how I look in the press, but this house going under hurts the people who need help the most.” Fist clenched, he stared up at the ceiling and then back at her. “It’s about God, Gretchen, not about you or some news story. And it’s sure not about me. It’s about Him.”

She couldn’t understand what any of that had to do with the fact that someone had stolen a lot of money from the trusting donors.

“I have a job to do. I’ve made commitments.”

“To your station?”

“To the public. To tell the truth.”

“Whose truth? Yours? Mine? God’s? When Channel Eleven aired the first negative report on Isaiah House, donations fell drastically. Kids in jeopardy were affected. Our work here for the needy has been affected. If this house goes down people suffer.
That’s
truth.”

“So was the story we aired.”

“There we are, then. An impasse, because we both think we’re right and neither is willing to budge.”

“You could tell me what’s going on. All of it, including the whole story about that man.”

“I will.”

“When?”

“As soon as I can.”

Annoyance zipped through her. “Why are you doing this? I thought you cared about me.”

“I do care, Gretchen.”

“But you don’t trust me.”

When he didn’t answer, she laughed, a bitter, pained sound. “You think I should trust you even though trouble is swirling around you like a cyclone, but you won’t give me the same courtesy.” She shot up out of the chair and stormed to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I think you know.”

“Don’t do this, Gretchen. Give me a few days. A few hours. Some time. Don’t. Please. You’re going to hurt a lot of people.”

One hand on the doorknob, she paused long enough to say, “You know what’s really sad, Ian?” She let a beat pass until certain she had his full attention. “I’m in love with you.”

As soon as her words registered on his face, she slammed the door and ran.

Ian started to follow and then changed his mind. Pursuit was futile. There was nothing else he could say or do to keep Isaiah House out of the news. He only prayed that this was not the beginning of the end for his life’s work.

Back to the wall, he leaned his head against the cool plaster and closed his eyes. What a day. He’d made a mess of every single thing he’d done. From Roger to Collin to Gretchen.

He felt as if he’d swallowed a hot brick that now lodged in his chest.

Gretchen was in love with him.

Collin was his brother.

Roger’s son was still in Mexico. And the auditors were closing in.

Head spinning with information overload, he didn’t know what to worry about first. His work, his newfound brother, his mom, or the woman who spoke of love but wanted to ruin him. Nice paradox. Yet, why should he be surprised? His entire life had been a lie and he hadn’t even known it.