When Grace Sings by Kim Vogel Sawyer Page A

proposal, and going would be hard because she loved her parents. But she also loved Steven. Why did growing up have to hurt?
    Tears stung and she sniffed. “Mom and Dad?” They looked at her, and she forced a wobbly smile. “Steven isn’t taking me to the moon. Arborville isn’t that far away. We’ll still see each other. Please don’t worry.”
    Dad stretched out his hand, and Mom reached across the little table between their chairs and took hold of it two-handed, the way someone wouldgrab a lifeline. Dad spoke in a hoarse whisper. “It isn’t the distance, Anna—Grace. It’s …”
    Several seconds passed while Anna—Grace clung to Steven’s hand and held her breath, uncertainty making her mouth dry.
    Mom finally finished the sentence. “It’s the town itself. And who else lives there.”
    Steven gently pulled his hand from Anna—Grace’s grasp and stood. “Maybe I should go home.”
    Anna—Grace leaped up and curled her hands around his forearm. “No.”
    Her parents stood, too, and Mom took two steps toward them. Her face held a pleading unlike anything Anna—Grace had ever seen from her normally stalwart, strong mother. Whatever troubled her parents, she believed they dreaded saying it even more than she dreaded hearing it.
    “Yes, Steven, please stay.” Dad’s serious tone and the deep furrows in his forehead increased her level of tension. “You’re to be Anna—Grace’s husband, so you need to hear this, too.”
    Dad sank back into his chair, almost as if his legs couldn’t support the burden he carried. Mom crossed the floor and slipped her arm around Anna—Grace’s waist, pulling her away from Steven and gently easing her onto the sofa. She reached for Steven’s hand. He linked fingers with her and then sat down again.
    With Mom’s arm at her waist and Steven holding tightly to her hand, she sent up a prayer for God to bolster her as well. “Okay. I’m ready. What is it?”

Steven
    Raised alongside a brother who possessed not even a fingernail’s worth of sentiment, by a kind but undemonstrative father and a mother he’d never seen shed tears for any reason, Steven was helpless against the tears flowing down Mrs. Braun’s face and the ones glistening in Anna—Grace’s eyes. If Anna—Grace hadn’t shackled him with her tight grip, he might slip out the door. Even before hearing whatever news the Brauns intended to share, he was already certain he wouldn’t like it.
    “We’ve never kept secret your adoption.” Mrs. Braun’s lips quavered with a sad smile. She cupped her hand over Anna—Grace’s knee. “We wanted you to know how much you were wanted. You were our answer to prayer.”
    “I know, Mom.”
    Steven knew, too. The Brauns’ adoptions were known by everyone in Sommerfeld. If they’d wanted to, though, they could have kept it secret from Anna—Grace. Unlike Sunny, whose Asian features screamed of her parentage, Anna—Grace’s blond hair and blue eyes were a near match to Olivia Braun, even though Anna—Grace was much more slender than her mother.
    Mrs. Braun went on, her voice so soft Steven had to strain to hear her. “When we adopted you through the private agency in Indiana, we were told only that you were born to an unwed teenage girl. Although we asked for more information, they said the girl’s family preferred anonymity. Each year on yourbirthday your dad and I have spent time in prayer for your biological parents, asking God to bless them. Well, recently …” Her chin quivered. Her hand on Anna—Grace’s knee began to tremble. She looked across the room to her husband, her expression pleading.
    Mr. Braun sat forward, folding his hands in a prayerful position. Then he placed them on the armrest of his chair. “Recently we were contacted by your mother and father.”
    Anna—Grace gasped. Without conscious thought Steven tightened his grip on her hand. She aimed a brief, grateful smile at him before turning to Mr. Braun. “First of