Rick dropped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling and wishing he was anywhere but here. He looked at his hands, hands now those of a twenty-five-year-old man. They were stained in a few places with car grease, thick from working out, and scarred across both palms from the accident. The accident. His badge of shame.
He wondered how differently life would have gone five long years ago if he’d taken Sean’s dare to kiss Grace. Would she have hated him more for doing it than not doing it? Would she have accused him of using her for a thrill instead of showing her how he truly felt? He feared both as much as he feared showing his feelings to Sean. Still, was there something—anything—he could have done that would have changed that awful night?
Grace’s clumsiness annoyed Scott and gave Sean another reason to tease her, which upset Rick. Everybody had clumsy moments. Even clumsy days. After all, he smacked himself in the face with a wrench this afternoon and had to chase it across the garage floor before he snagged it. He was the klutz, not Grace.
He sighed, wondering if what Hannah often told him was right. Sometimes angels came along and, in the strangest ways, guided God’s children in the right direction. Coming here had been a last-minute decision, the thought jumping into his head out of the middle of nowhere. But maybe this week might turn out to be a gift from Heaven. If he could get past Grace Evans’ defenses, he might be able to earn her forgiveness, even if he wasn’t able to find a way into her heart.