“Forgiving Grace” Chapter 1

Sheriff Asa Jenson swept the accident scene once more, making sure he hadn’t missed a thing. A newer model Cadillac Deville lay crumpled at the bottom of the ravine, forced off the road by a rear impact. Shards of broken red plastic from the taillights glinted like blood in the dirt. Black tire marks showed where the car had tried to brake and regain control, but it had not worked. The car had careened down the side of the hill, bursting into flames upon impact with a tree. The grass around the wreckage was scorched, along with several of the lower branches above it. Flames still licked upward but were starting to show signs of dissipating. Thank goodness for the spring rains.

The driver, a woman probably in her late twenties to early thirties, was pronounced dead on the scene, burned so severely she was unrecognizable. Van Buren County had no forensics department—evidence had to be sent to Little Rock, and given it was the last forensic lab in the state, results would take time. The possibility of identifying her quickly was slim at best. The passenger had been thrown from the vehicle, but it appeared her injuries were minor, a miracle in itself.

No ID was found for either woman—most likely it had burned in the fire. Something about the incident didn’t sit right, and he was determined to figure out what. Asa’s job was to make sense of a situation that made no sense. Why would someone want to run these women off the road? He would have to wait a while before he could search the wreckage further. An inner voice told him that he would not find any answers even then. His gut told him the woman wouldn’t have answers—not yet.

The driver of the hit-and-run vehicle was nowhere to be seen by the time the authorities had arrived on the scene. A traveler on her way to Branson, Missouri had seen the flames from the car on the side of the road and stopped to see if she could help. She then called for emergency assistance. Asa had already examined her car to ensure that she was not the one who had forced the other car off the road.

Asa decided to make a trip to the hospital to check on the victim. Maybe she would be awake and ready to answer some of his questions—starting with who she was, and who was trying to run her off the road. Were they trying to kill her- or just scare her. Although road rage wasn’t common here, it wasn’t unheard of—with so many city folks passing through on their way to Branson.

Asa sat staring at the woman in the hospital bed—tangled hair, bruised skin—still, one of the most beautiful faces he'd ever seen. Her chestnut-brown hair would have reached halfway down her back, though now it was matted and tangled from the wreck. Her face was oval with a slight olive tint and gave the appearance she was of Italian descent.

Her lips were soft and full. A protective instinct rose in him, unexpected and strong. She looked so helpless lying there in the hospital bed. But he would not allow this surge of feeling to rule his decisions. Still, he couldn’t afford to be swayed. If her past held secrets, he would uncover them.

The doctor had given him permission to sit and wait for a while in case she woke up. But he also gave strict orders that Asa was not to aggravate his patient under any circumstances. Dr. Thomas Learner had known Asa for years and knew how persistent he could be when chasing answers. And now, Asa expected this woman—this mystery—to give them to him.

Dr. Learner was middle-aged, serious when it counted. Asa respected that—and knew better than to cross him.

She jolted awake, heart pounding. She had been having a fitful dream of running from someone—she didn’t know who, or why. Frustration and panic from the dream bled into her waking thoughts, keeping her mind fogged. Her temples throbbed with pain, making it hard to think.

Fear surged through her at the sight of the officer staring at her from the side of her bed. Fear?

Through the haze, she registered that he was tall. Broad shoulders. A uniform. A man she didn’t know—but feared anyway. Trying to get her emotions under control, she closed her eyes and attempted to steady her thoughts. Where was she? Why a hospital? Why a sheriff? And why the fear clawing at her chest?

Her head throbbed. He was saying something, but she couldn’t focus. Had he seen the fear in her eyes? Had he seen it—before she could hide it? And why did it matter so much that he hadn’t?

“Ma’am? My name is Sheriff Asa Jenson, with the Van Buren County Sheriff’s Department. I need to ask you a few questions.”

Her throat was sandpaper. She tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. His words drifted to her through thick fog.

“Ma'am, do you understand what I’m saying?” Concern had once more appeared on his face.

She nodded yes. Forcing herself to focus on his words, she let the sound filter into her consciousness.

“What is your name?”

She stared back, blank and uncomprehending. Fear crept up her spine. Her name. That shouldn’t be hard to remember. Shouldn’t it? But she could not pull even that bit of information from her memory. Closing her eyes again, she struggled to remember something—anything—that would tell her who she was. Nothing.

“Ma’am?” The question was more to return her focus to him than to gather any information. “Are you able to speak?”

“Yes.” The response was weak and sounded unsure even to her own ears. She gripped the edge of the blanket. What now? What was she supposed to do?

“Do you know your name?”

“No.”

“I’ll get Dr. Learner.”

She exhaled as the sheriff left the room. His presence unsettled her, though she couldn't explain why. Why was there a sheriff in her hospital room? What had happened to her? The sterile scent confirmed she was in a hospital—even if she remembered nothing else.

As the sheriff left to get the doctor, she lay there praying silently. Wondering who she was, where she was, and why she had ended up in this bed. She prayed for her memory, for answers, for peace. And as she prayed, it came. She knew that God would walk her through this. Even if her past never returned, she would be safe—because she was His. That peace surrounded her even through the uncertainty of her current circumstances. How, she could not have begun to understand.

After Dr. Learner examined her, his conclusion was that she had amnesia. Given the injuries, a full recovery seemed likely—but only time would tell. Sheriff Jenson didn’t take the news well. His jaw clenched, eyes flashing, nearly hostile. Dr. Learner gave him a sharp look and motioned him out of the room.

“You’ve been through a lot,” the doctor said gently. “Do you have any idea what happened?” His expression was that of a compassionate father figure. She felt comforted just by his presence.

She gave a faint shake of her head. No, she didn’t. And that should have terrified her. How could she stay calm when she didn’t even know her name—or why she was here?

“You were in an automobile accident. The car went down a ravine. You were thrown clear before impact—likely why you’re still alive. You were unconscious when you landed. I haven’t seen any swelling on the brain, so I expect a full recovery.” “The driver, a woman, wasn’t as fortunate. She died instantly. No identification was found on either of you. That’s why the sheriff is here—hoping to learn something that might identify you both.”

“I don’t understand.” The woman tried to comprehend what the doctor was telling her. “Wait… no ID? You mean neither of us had a purse? Nothing?”

“No purse, and no identification was found for either of you. The car was already burning when the authorities arrived. So far, nothing has turned up. The sheriff, naturally, would like to know who you are so he can notify next of kin.” His voice was so kind, so soothing.

She stared blankly into space. She didn’t remember the driver—couldn’t even picture her face—but the sorrow hit her just the same. Somewhere, a family had lost someone. And she couldn’t tell them who. Silently, she sent up a prayer for the dead woman and her family. God was still in control. It was the one thing she could cling to. She had to.

“I wish I could help you, Doc. I really do. I can’t even picture the driver in my mind. Heck, I can’t even conjure up a picture of myself right now. I don’t see how I could possibly help.”

Dr. Learner had a gentle way about him. When he patted her hand and spoke softly, she felt safe. But when the sheriff was mentioned, a chill climbed her spine. She tensed without meaning to. Maybe it wasn’t him, exactly. Maybe it was what he represented. Dr. Learner mistook her silence for exhaustion. In truth, it was dread.

“I can see that you’re still tired. I’ll tell Asa he’ll just have to wait until tomorrow morning to see you again.”

With that, the doctor turned and walked out of the room, leaving behind a very confused young woman. She would spend it wrestling with a jumbled mess of thoughts, digging for anything that might help her remember who she was. At least she would not have to face the sheriff again until morning.

Later, reading a Bible in her bed, the woman came across a scripture that caught her attention. She had asked a nurse to bring a Bible after a quick search turned up none. The scripture was from Ephesians 1:7:

In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace. His grace.

She had no idea what sins she might have committed—but then, everyone sinned. No one was perfect. That was the glory of God’s redeeming grace. That word—grace—stuck with her as she drifted off to sleep.

Fitful dreams plagued her all through the night. She was trying to find someone, but every time she came close to seeing the hidden face, it eluded her. Later, still dreaming, she was being followed by a man. She didn’t know who he was or why he would follow her. She wasn't exactly afraid—just wary. He felt important. Like the key to her missing memory. If only she could just see his face, hear his name.

“Well, Miss Jane Doe, you look like you’ve been having a bad dream. Care to talk about it?”

The sound of the sheriff’s voice sent a chill of excitement down her spine. He had a pleasant voice—and from what she could recall from the night before, he was not altogether unattractive. He was about six feet tall, muscular, with a strong square jaw, broad shoulders, and blue eyes that looked like they could bore straight through to your soul. He looked like the kind of man you didn’t cross—ever.

Through eyes still weary from restless sleep, the young woman looked at the sheriff. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t waver her gaze. This man, for some reason known only to him, had decided that she was up to no good. Something in his tone of voice made that clear. She would not play his game—whatever it was.

“It must be morning already,” she said through a yawn. “The doc said you would be back. I'm afraid I still can’t help you much, but maybe you could help me. Maybe if you gave me some of the details surrounding the accident, I might remember more of my past.”

Asa Jenson watched her for any signs of nervousness. That would be a good indication she was lying. He noticed with satisfaction that her eyes were indeed dark brown. He could sense something in her manner, but couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

“Well Jane, you don’t mind if I call you that, do you?” he asked, continuing before she could answer. “Jane, I would really like to see if you can remember anything before I start telling you what happened.”

“I do mind.”

“Excuse me? What do you mind?”

“If you call me Jane. I know that is not my name. And I don’t want to be just another nameless person. Would you please call me Grace?”

“Is that your name?” He tried to keep his voice level, his suspicions about her rising again. She was smooth, not upset like he would have thought someone in her position to be.

“No, I don’t think so,” she replied simply. “I don’t remember my real name, but I know I’m saved. So it must have been by His grace. So… Grace seems right.”

Asa nearly scoffed. She must be kidding. Did she really think he’d fall for this? She must have taken a harder knock to the head than he thought. Someone had just tried to kill her—or her friend—and now she wanted him to believe this whole “reborn Christian” thing? This could turn into a very interesting case.

“Why should I call you Grace if it isn’t your name?” Sarcasm dripped from his words, thick and undeniable.

“Jane isn’t my name either.” Smooth and level.

“Hard to argue with that kind of logic, isn’t it, Asa?” Dr. Learner chuckled from the doorway. It wasn’t often anyone got the better of Asa Jenson—especially a woman.

“Doc! So good to see you this morning.” The sincerity in her voice would have been obvious to anyone—except Asa. To him, it felt contrived.

“Of course we can call you Grace, can’t we, Asa? It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful young lady.”

Asa rolled his eyes in disgust at the easy camaraderie between the two. What had happened last night after he left? Had this woman mesmerized everyone? Of course, Thomas was a pushover for a friendly smile. He had too big a heart—which might just prove to be his undoing one day.

Grace beamed back at the doctor. “Thank you, Doc. You are indeed a wonderful man.”

Asa decided to ignore the banter between the doctor and the patient. “Thomas, I really need to ask this woman some questions. You’re not going to run me out again, are you?”

Dr. Learner smiled at Asa. “No, go ahead. But if she starts to get upset, you leave. And no back talk, either.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the doctor left, so did Grace’s happy mood. Grace. She liked that for a name. It did seem fitting. Of course, it wasn’t her real name—but it was one she could live with. Why did this sheriff have such a hard time with it? What did he have against her? It couldn't be that he thought she was lying about her memory loss… could it? Why would she? Instinct told her it was something more.

“So, you're not going to tell me what happened yesterday, are you?”

Asa studied her expression as she lay on the bed. She had a sort of calmness about her. She was cool. Collected. It would take a lot to rattle her. But that might be the only way to get to the truth.

“No.”

Just one word. No. One word could almost break a spirit—but not hers. Grace was stronger than that. He was watching her. She knew it. He was waiting for her to make a mistake—a fatal slip that would prove he was right to distrust her. She would not give him the satisfaction of getting what he wanted. She would make him believe her. Somehow.

“You don’t trust me. Why?”

The sheriff stood there, eyes locked with Grace. A battle of wills was ensuing between them. Neither wanted to show any weakness or indecision in front of the other.

“What difference does it make? If you're telling the truth, you have nothing to worry about.”

The sheriff clearly had a reason for not trusting her. Grace determined she would find out what that reason was as soon as she got out of the hospital. She would do her own investigation—find her own answers. It was painfully obvious she would not get anything useful from that man. What a frustrating person he could be.

“I suppose it’s a waste of both our time to continue this conversation, Sheriff. I can’t give you the answers you want, and you won’t give me the ones I want.”

With that said, Grace laid back and crossed her arms over her chest, deliberately ignoring the sheriff. She turned to look out the window—though she still caught a sideways glimpse of his expression.

Sheriff Asa Jenson had never been put in his place quite so boldly before. The expression on his face was priceless. The veins in his neck threatened to pop out of his skin. His face reddened with anger. And this woman was lying in bed, enjoying every second of the show.

“We’re not finished with this conversation,” the sheriff finally managed to say as he turned and left.

Later, as she lay in bed contemplating the events of the day, Grace wondered why she had behaved so poorly toward the sheriff. Others had come in to see her, had questioned her about her memory—and she had not been defensive. She still could not fight past the wall between the moment she woke up here and the life she had before, but she would. She always told anyone who asked that she had faith God would restore her memory—if it was His will. And if He didn’t, then she would be happy just being Grace. If anyone marveled at her faith, no one said so to her.

Sleep was once again filled with the unknown. She was still searching—and then running. If only she could see a face. Hear a name.

She woke the next morning feeling exhausted and unnerved. Thankfully, the hulk of a sheriff was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had another poor soul to harass today. Grace immediately felt guilty for thinking such a thing and whispered a quick prayer—for forgiveness, and for patience when dealing with that man. A lot of patience. By the end of the day, Grace was suffering from a severe headache. The strain of waiting for Sheriff Asa Jenson all day had worn her out. And the rotten man didn’t even show up. How dare he?

Dr. Learner had been so concerned by her pallor that he prescribed a mild sedative so she could rest. Grace hadn’t had the heart to tell him the real reason for her anxiety. He had stayed for a while to talk. They discussed her condition, her possible release in a couple of days, and what the town might offer her as she struggled to recover her memory. But Dr. Learner carefully avoided talking about the sheriff. Dr. Learner had carefully avoided discussing the accident in any detail. Grace assumed he had been coached by the illustrious Sheriff Asa not to say anything to her about the ordeal.

As Grace neared sleep, she began to feel a little alone. The staff at the hospital had been very kind—every one of them had tried to make her feel accepted. But it wasn’t the same. She didn’t know if she had family she should call. What if she had children? A husband? A boyfriend? There was no ring on her finger, but it could have come off in the accident. Would anyone be worrying about her? It seemed like everyone wanted her to get her memory back, but no one was willing to tell her even the little bit of information gathered at the scene of the wreck. Why?

The book of Psalms contains a wealth of comfort for daily life. For every situation, there’s something to be found in Psalms. Tonight, Grace needed comfort. She needed to know she was not alone. That God was still near, watching over her, protecting her. She read Psalm 46. Her spirit lifted with the assurances in that chapter.

Morning brought both ravenous hunger and a renewed peace. Grace meditated on the passage she had read before sleep:

“Be still and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10

She would keep that close and repeat it in the difficult times ahead.

“Doc Learner says you should be getting out of here tomorrow,” came a familiar voice... Jenson stood in the doorway to her room. Grace merely shrugged her shoulders at his statement.

“You must be excited. You get to leave—go back to your own life.”

The words hung in the air between them. Both knew the reason behind the quip. He was trying to trip her up, hoping she’d slip and reveal herself as a phony. Proving him wrong gave Grace no satisfaction. She would rather he be right—so she could actually remember who she was.

“I wish that were true.” The quietness with which she spoke almost made Asa believe her. Almost.

But relentlessly, he pressed on. “Aww, don’t you worry any. I’m sure Bessie Scott has an extra room at her place. She’s always taking in folks down on their luck.”

Bessie Scott ran the local boarding house. She was an eccentric old woman with bright red hair and green eyes, and more energy than most people half her age. Grace had heard of her from one of the nurses the night before. She sounded like an angel—maybe even the answer to a prayer.

Grace stayed silent. She knew her silence irritated the sheriff, and she probably shouldn't have enjoyed that—but she did. Besides, she didn’t feel the need to voice every thought that crossed her mind. Keeping her feelings to herself felt natural. Like something she'd always done.

“So… no luck yet with your investigation? That’s a shame.”

“What makes you say that?” Irritation crept into Asa’s voice.

“You wouldn’t be in here harassing me if you had any real answers.”

“Touché.” A smile played at the sheriff’s lips.

She was good. He’d definitely have to keep a close eye on her. She wasn’t just a woman without a memory. She had a past—probably a very interesting one. Possibly even a dangerous one. Grace handled herself far too well to be some ordinary housewife. That much was certain. She had a quick mind and a ready answer for whatever he threw at her.

“Think about Bessie’s place,” he added. “I’ll put in a word for you—if you’d like.”

As Asa was turning to leave, she said softly, “Yes, I would. Thank you.”

Asa paused, considering her sincerity for a few seconds. Then he nodded and left the room—leaving Grace more confused than ever. He was an enigma. He didn’t trust her—that much was obvious. But he was willing to help her? Why? Then it hit her—if she stayed here in town, he could keep an eye on her. Of course.

Grace didn’t have time to ponder it further. The rest of the day was filled with preparations for her dismissal the next day. One of the nurses stopped by and explained that she had some clothes that no longer fit after her pregnancy. They should fit Grace fine, and she’d bring them by later that day. A small collection was also taken up by the hospital staff to purchase other essentials. Just before dinner, one of the nurses brought in a beautiful gift bag with everything they’d gathered. Several staff members were on hand to enjoy her tearful thanks.

Grace was overwhelmed by their thoughtfulness and generosity—so much so that she couldn’t even speak. Tears of gratitude streamed down her face. She would miss the hospital staff when she was gone.

Grace was dressed and walking the floor by 7:30 a.m. She was anxious to get back to some semblance of normalcy in her life. Once she was out of the confines of the hospital, she could begin rediscovering her past. She wouldn’t have to rely on information from people under the sheriff’s influence anymore. How did one man manage to hold so much sway over so many people?

“Are you ready to—” Sheriff Asa let the words trail off as he stepped into the room and caught sight of Grace. He practically gawked. She wore a bright yellow sundress with white sandals. The dress was long and flowing—soft, cheerful. Against her darker coloring, it gave her an almost exotic look. Her hair hung loose down her back and shimmered in the light. Under different circumstances, Asa might have found himself falling for her. But not now.

Not until he knew who she really was—and what she might be running from. He forced himself to focus. He was simply here to escort her to the boarding house. Another time, Grace might have taken advantage of the sheriff being at a loss for words. But today, she was just anxious to go. She had a lot to do—and the first thing on her list was finding employment.

“I’m ready to go, Sheriff—whenever you are.”

Asa was beginning to regain his composure by the time Dr. Learner entered the room.

“You weren’t planning to leave without a final goodbye, were you?”

“Now Doc, you already released me. And you know I have to come back for a checkup next week. You won’t even have time to miss me.”

“I’ll miss your smiling face around here—and so will the rest of the staff.”

“Now you’re just teasing.”

Asa looked like he was about to lose his breakfast listening to the two of them carry on. Doc Learner was far too old for Grace—and married, besides.

“Now don’t forget,” the doctor added, “after you get settled in at Miss Scott’s, you’re to come over for dinner. The missus is looking forward to meeting you.”

“How’s Sunday after church?”

“That would be great.”

“You can ride with us to church if you’d like. There’s always room for one more in the car.”

“If we don’t get going,” Asa muttered, “Bessie will start wondering where we’ve gotten to.”

The sheriff’s impatience was showing through again. Of all the people she had met, he was the only one who still held on to such deep suspicion of her. He acted like she was hiding something. She wished she knew what. She didn’t feel like she was hiding anything—but then, she couldn’t remember anything before the accident either.

All the nurses and hospital staff had to say a special goodbye to Grace as she left. Asa tried to stifle his irritation at all the well-wishing and hugging. Why should he care if the entire staff adored this woman they’d just met? He almost felt sorry for them. They would be very disappointed when the truth about Grace came out. And it would. He intended to see to that—as soon as he found out what it was.

The boarding house—known simply as Mrs. Scott’s—was a beautiful old home set back on Shannon Street. It was a two-story white house with big front columns and enough space to house several boarders comfortably. A wide wrap-around porch completed the nostalgic, picture-perfect charm. Grace fell instantly in love with it.

Bessie Scott was a delightful woman. She had fiery red hair, green eyes, and a slightly eccentric streak—but in the most lovable way. She welcomed Grace into her home with a warmth that felt rare in today’s world. Grace assured her she would begin looking for employment first thing Monday morning—and would start paying her way as soon as she could.

Asa left the two women alone after introducing them. He said he had a load of work to do. Grace had thanked him for his hospitality and consideration.

He’d shrugged off her thanks with a curt, “Sure.”

“Now don’t you worry none about that man,” Bessie said after he’d gone. “He comes across mean and tough, but he’s an old softy underneath that rough exterior.”

Grace appreciated Bessie’s attempt at comfort—but she knew better. The sheriff hadn’t brought her here out of kindness. He wanted her somewhere he could keep track of her. This boarding house made that easy.

Today was Saturday. One more day until Sunday. Her need to be in the house of the Lord tugged gently at her heart.

“I don’t know that he has a soft spot anywhere on his body—at least not where I’m concerned.”

Grace’s honesty drew a frown from the older woman. Bessie’s heart ached any time she saw someone in pain—and this poor child was clearly hurting. What had the sheriff said to her? It wasn’t like him to be cruel.

As she settled into the house, Grace thought over all that had happened in such a short span of time. She prayed that God would grant her the return of her memory. She prayed that Asa’s suspicions would be proven wrong. And she prayed—most of all—that God would direct her path, even while she was still missing the map of her past.

The porch she had noticed earlier was calling to her. She needed a place to sit and relax. Thoughts of Psalm 46:10 played over in her mind. There was a swing on the back portion of the porch, so Grace decided to enjoy the afternoon outside, reading her Bible. It would bring comfort and joy to a weary soul.