She released the breath she’d been holding. “That makes me so happy to hear. That means Dale won’t get his hands on Grace.”
“Exactly. And there’s one other thing I wanted to mention.” Micah paused. “An arrest was made in New York.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “What?”
“Gio started talking. He got nervous and tried to say someone else in the company paid for the hit on you. He gave up the name of this person. One thing led to another, and the cops found the guy who attacked you.”
“I had no idea. That’s great news.”
“It is. I heard the news this morning and asked the investigator from New York if I could tell you myself. This guy was a career criminal who’d do anything for a good payout—and he quickly corrected the story and said Gio had hired him. Gio told him you were bad news and were going to cost him a lot of money. This guy didn’t need a good reason. He just wanted the money.”
“I’m so glad he stopped before he could finish the job.”
Micah cast her a soft smile. “Me too. Me too.”
Silence stretched a moment as she absorbed the updates. Progress was being made—and she was thankful for that. The Hendersons would still be causing trouble for them. Maybe even Richard. But they’d built something strong here, and it wouldn’t be easily destroyed.
She believed that with all her heart.
“I keep thinking about life.” She told Micah as she looked out at the mountains. “Thinking about Grace. All year, I’ve been bumping into that word.”
“It’s a good word to cling to.”
“Did you know that grace means undeserved mercy and getting something good that you didn’t earn and couldn’t havemanaged on your own?” She paused. “That’s been my story since I came here.”
Micah didn’t say anything a moment until finally, “I think that sounds like a beautiful story. You’re doing a good work here, Naomi. You’re passing along the goodness you’ve received to others. There’s a lot to be said for that.”
“Thank you.” She smiled into her coffee.
Just then, Good Boy appeared at the bottom of the porch steps, looked up at both of them with an expression of dignified satisfaction, and thumped his tail twice before flopping down in a patch of early sun.
“He’s settled in,” Micah observed.
“He has.” She watched the dog stretch, utterly at ease. “We both have, I think.”
Just then, the baby monitor crackled.
Grace was awake.
Naomi straightened. “I should?—”
“Go.” Micah nodded toward the door.
She went, but she paused with her hand on the frame and looked back at him. He still stood at the railing, his coffee in one hand, looking out at the mountains. Good Boy had relocated himself to Micah’s feet.
She watched them a moment—the man and the dog, the mountains behind them, the gold morning light spreading slowly across the yard.
Grace, she thought.
It didn’t erase the past.
It redeemed it.
