“Oh my.” Havyn plopped back down in her chair. “I don’t even know what to say. Whit, help me out here.”
“I think you should go.” Whitney spoke up from Mama’s chair. The only place she sat nowadays. “And I think I should go with you.”
“What?” Havyn couldn’t help how loud her voice came out.
Whit looked at her. The sadness in her eyes almost broke Havyn’s heart. “You’ve heard what people are saying. Saw how they treated me at church. At church of all places. My reputation is ruined, and even though everything I love is here, I don’t see how I can stay. I’d rather shrivel up and die.” She looked back to Maddy. “If you’ll have me, I’d be forever grateful if I could go with you. That way we could perform together, and I can get away from this horrible gossip. Maybe after time, I’ll be able to heal from what that man tried to do.”
It was like someone had ripped Havyn’s heart out of her chest. How could her family be falling apart like this? Lord, what are You doing?
Madysen looked disappointed. Not exactly an excited bride-to-be. She tilted her head at Whit. “Are you sure?”
Whitney fiddled with a thread on her apron. “Yes, I think it’s best. I think you and I should leave Alaska.”
TWENTY-SIX
Nothing had gone as she’d expected the past few days. Madysen herded the new lambs back into their pen. And she wasn’t sure what to do anymore. She couldn’t ignore that the feelings she had for Daniel were more than friendship, but after Whitney declared they should leave Alaska together, Madysen couldn’t exactly tell her sister no. Not after all she’d endured. Guilt twinged every time she thought about not wanting to leave. Maybe God had given them this opportunity so that Whitney could get away and heal. Was Madysen wise in thinking that? And then, of course, there was Buddy. He loved her. He was lonely and empty without her. She didn’t want to cause him pain . . . but maybe she understood a little more about love and her own heart now. God, what do we do? I’m so confused.
At first it had seemed like a good idea to ask Buddy if they could hold off on the wedding for a while, and she and Whitney could start performing and see how it went. But that would be pretty insensitive of her. Would he even be willing to wait? The presents came twice a day now.
Bethany brought in some new straw. “Dad just rode up. Is it okay if I go out to see him?”
“Of course, sweetie.” How precious it had become to have her younger siblings here. No matter the circumstances, God had brought them all together. As a family. That probably meant she should show her father mercy. She just wasn’t sure how.
She began to spread the new straw.
“Maddy?”
Turning around, she saw Dad standing there. “Bethany went to see you.”
“I know. I asked her to go inside and wait for me. I need to talk to you.”
“Okay.” Madysen kept working. It had become harder and harder to cover her feelings when Dad was around. And she wasn’t sure either one of them was ready to actually deal with it.
“Could we just sit for a moment?”
Madysen straightened and set the pitchfork down. “All right, but not for long.” She went to a bale and plopped down, digging her fingers into the straw as if to hold on. Dad sat across from her.
“I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be. I was a horrible person, a terrible father. I made mistakes, and I’m still a sinner. I’m so grateful that, as a child of God, I’m saved by grace. But last night I was reading my Bible in Matthew chapter five. Jesus said that if we know someone is holding something against us, we must go to that person and be reconciled.”
Madysen stared at her father. She couldn’t move or say anything. He wanted reconciliation? That was impossible.
“I want more than anything to mend our relationship. Even if we can’t ever be close again as father and daughter. I want to beg for your forgiveness. I’m sorry. I let you down. I should have stood up to your grandfather all those years ago, even though he was just trying to protect you all in his own way. But he was fierce and threatening, and I was a coward who deserved to be threatened. I would have done the same thing if it was my little girl being treated the way I treated Melly.” He looked down at his shoes.
Madysen couldn’t even feel the straw between her fingers. It was like she was glued in place. “So your whole apology is to blame Granddad?”
“No.” He held up his hands. “No. I shouldn’t have even mentioned him. As a parent, I completely understand what he did, and I did this. Me. No one else. Through it all, I think God was trying to protect you. And He was waiting for me to come to Him. But I was afraid of God.
“I was afraid of everything, so I sought strength in alcohol. I was afraid of failing, of loving, and especially of being a father. I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you. And I’m sorry that I left you. I remember what I promised after I found you in the mine. It has haunted me ever since.”
The tears started then. How she longed to go back and be that little girl again. The little girl who adored her daddy and knew that he would always come find her. “I want to forgive you, but I don’t understand. We loved you. Mama loved you. Yes, Granddad can be formidable, but we were your children and Mama your wife. You had our support.” She shook her head. “Why did you leave us? Why did you go to another woman?”
Dad bowed his head. “I don’t know. It just seemed to happen. I was drinking one day, and Esther was there. She could see the pain I was in and started talking to me. She cared about what I was feeling, and it seemed no one else did. Whenever I tried to talk to your mother, I was either too drunk or Chuck would make a scene. He didn’t want us to reconcile, and I can’t really blame him.”
Madysen thought about that for a moment. Granddad had already admitted these things, so why did it hurt so much to hear them from her father? Would they have remained a family if Granddad had stopped interfering? Anger at the older man filled her heart. If Granddad hadn’t tried to save them from Dad, he might have found the strength to stop drinking. For them.
“When Chuck decided I should let you all think I was dead, I gave up. I guess a part of me knew I wasn’t good for you girls. And Chuck had a lot of friends who wouldn’t have minded seeing me dead.”
“You thought Granddad would kill you?” Madysen tried to imagine the man who’d done so much for them taking the life of another. It didn’t seem possible. But on the other hand, none of what Granddad had already admitted to doing seemed possible for the man she knew. Perhaps she was just a poor judge of character.
“I hate to say it, but Madysen, he threatened just that. You can ask him about it. I think he would be honest. Anyway, I was too scared to fight back and took what he offered. I’m sorry.”
She put aside her confusion about Granddad and turned to her father. “I think I can understand that—especially with a threat of death hanging over you. But . . .” She drew a long breath and let it go. “Why were they important enough to change for and we weren’t?”
Dad’s brow furrowed and he shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“You stopped drinking and became a good man for Esther and your new family. Why couldn’t you have done that for us? Weren’t we important enough? Didn’t you love us enough?” Tears came to her eyes. “When you died, I thought we must have been really bad—maybe God was punishing us by letting you die. Then when I found out that you were alive and you had another family that you’d cleaned up your life for––well, obviously we must have lacked something.”
He look . . . crushed. Then shook his head. “You never lacked anything. None of you did. The lacking was all mine. I wasn’t a good man, Maddy. I certainly wasn’t walking with God. I guess when your granddad made it clear I had no other choice, I saw it as a way out—a way to end your pain and that of your sisters and mother. It was a coward’s way out. I knew it then and I know it now.
“When I agreed that Chuck would tell your mother I had died, I laid low. I was beaten up pr
etty bad, and Chuck got word to Esther. She came, and he told her the plan. She was horrified to find out I was married, that I had children, but he gave her a great deal of money and promised I would marry her. Esther agreed to take care of me and move away. I was so bad off I don’t even remember the move. Esther managed most of it. She nursed me back to health, but the realization of what I’d done to you all those years made me want to give up and die. I wanted liquor to consume me . . . to take away all of my pain. I hated myself so much.”
Madysen shook her head. It still didn’t answer her question. “But you didn’t keep drinking.”
“Sadly, I did drink. A lot. Tried to drown myself in my guilt. But then Esther said she’d had enough and we were going to move in with her parents in Colorado Springs. I said no. Esther made it clear my answer wasn’t the right one.” He glanced down at the floor. “I told her to leave without me, and I thought she would. But the next night, I got drunk so bad, I probably should’ve died. A guy beat me up and took everything out of my pockets. Esther was loaded up and ready to go. She had two men throw me in the back of the wagon and off we went. She gave me whiskey while I was healing, but gradually watered it down to wean me off.
“As I recovered, she told me what I had done to you all was abominable, but now that it was done, I needed to make a decision. Either give up the bottle and start fresh with her or stay with alcohol and die alone. You see, the doctor had told her that my body couldn’t handle the amount of liquor I’d been drinking. He said if I continued it, I’d be dead inside of six months.”
“How awful.”
“It was. I guess I’d thought by doing what Chuck wanted, death wouldn’t be a threat. But here it was again. I was scared, but Esther promised to see me through it. She made me pledge to never take another drink. No one had ever done that before. All I had left was my word on this one thing. I couldn’t turn back.”
“So you didn’t do it for them. You did it for yourself.”
Dad nodded. “Chuck always told me what was wrong with me. I thought it was just a father being overly critical of his daughter’s husband. I didn’t care about fixing what was wrong because you girls and your mother accepted me as I was and continued to love me. And, for a while, Esther did too. But then she saw that it was taking my life. She told me she wasn’t about to stick around and watch me die.
“Then one day, when there was a tent revival, I just happened to be coming by that way after work. I heard the preacher talk about Jesus coming for the lost, the wounded, the sinner. I can still remember him saying, ‘If you and the world have given up on you, just know that Jesus never will.’ I’d heard religious stuff from your mother and Chuck, but this man was speaking to the very heart of who I was. I went home and told Esther about it, and we went back every night while the revival was in town. We got saved there, and God took away my desire for liquor. He transformed me—and then I was broken for an entirely other reason. Sober and saved, I realized I needed to make things right with your mother and you girls. But I thought it was too late. You already had new lives.”
He took out his handkerchief and wiped at his tears. “Esther’s parents got us in church, and our lives were turned around. I decided the only thing I could do was be a good father to the family I still had. And that brings us back to the present.”
He tucked the handkerchief away. “I am so sorry for the way I failed you and your sisters and your mother. I can’t undo what I did, but I’m begging you to forgive me.”
Madysen considered all that he’d said and fought back her own tears. What a tangled mess. Sinful actions wrapped up with more sinful actions. Lies complicating lies. She sighed. There had been so much hate on Granddad’s part. Madysen couldn’t let that hate continue in her heart.
She got to her feet, and Dad did likewise. “I appreciate that you told me the truth. It hurt so much to lose you. You promised to always be there for me and then suddenly you were gone. I hated you for leaving me, but . . . not anymore.” Madysen went to her father and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I forgive you, Dad.”
“Just like that?” The shock in his voice shook her to the core. Then he finally wrapped his arms around her, and she felt him release a long breath.
Nodding against his shoulder, she sniffed again. “Just like that. Isn’t that what Jesus did for each of us? Mama taught us that forgiveness was a decision we had to affirm or deny—we had to choose it—but once made, it’s a process that will take place with healing and come a little more each day.”
“Your mother was a wonderful woman. I didn’t deserve her.”
She pulled back and looked into his eyes. No more anger filled her chest when she saw him. “I need to forgive you completely and start anew. Especially since Whit and I will be leaving Alaska soon. You need to be here for Havyn and Eli and Bethany.”
“What are you talking about?”
She told him about Buddy’s proposal and how Whit wanted to go with her to get away from the rumors.
“Your mother always dreamed that at least one of you would follow in her footsteps and make her way as a professional musician. But Judas promised that Sinclair is going to make this right. There’s no need to run away from it.”
“Whitney doesn’t see much hope for staying here.” The weight of the decision tore at her insides. Why was this so hard? But she had to do the right thing for her sister. And if this is what she needed, then so be it.
“I don’t like this, Maddy. I don’t know the man at all.” He stepped back and frowned.
“To be honest, Dad. I don’t know you very well either. But you just asked me to forgive you and start a new life with you.”
“It’s completely different. Please, let’s talk about this some more. Maybe with the whole family. What do they think?”
She took a deep breath and sat back down on the bale of straw. “I think this is the right thing for Whitney, Dad. And I think I need to do it. I don’t mind sacrificing if it will help my sister heal.”
“But is it the right thing for you? You can’t just marry someone because you think it will make everything easier. Is this really the life that you want? Do you want to marry that man?”
“I don’t know. But I’m not sure I have any other choice.”
Daniel leaned against the outside of the sheep pen. He hadn’t meant to listen in on Maddy’s conversation with her father––but now his heart was pounding so hard it threatened to burst out of his chest.
Her comments about leaving Alaska felt like a knife wound to his gut. But then to hear her own desires of wanting Whitney’s pain to go away—for her to be healthy and whole . . . he could see Maddy sacrificing her own wants and desires for her sister.
No longer was he convinced that Buddy had won Madysen’s heart. So now he needed to win Maddy for himself. But how?
God, I need Your direction. I’m not sure how to fix this, but I know that You have provided a way and that You have overcome. Show me. Please.
“Granddad?” Maddy whispered as she entered his room and then closed the door. Lifting her shoulders, she prepared herself for the conversation they needed to have.
He opened his eyes and blinked several times. “Maddy . . .”
“There are some things that I need to say, okay? I need you to listen.” Whew. It was hard to tell the main authority figure in her life to listen. No matter what, she deeply respected and loved him.
He pushed himself up a bit with his good arm. “’Kay.”
“I forgave Dad. And it feels really good. Now I need to forgive you.” Her heart squeezed tight in her chest, and she felt the sting of tears in her eyes. “Since first learning about Dad being alive, it was easier to blame him than to hold you responsible for your part. I know why you did what you did. Dad having another family was horrific, and you had to keep that hidden from us for a long time. I’ve been afraid to be honest with you . . . to tell you what you did back then made me angry when I found out about it. I’ve been h
arboring that anger deep inside. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was angry and didn’t come talk to you about it. Yes, life with a drunken father was horrible, but Mama loved him despite his faults. And so did we. But Granddad, God needed to change him. Not you.” She took in a shaky breath. “I can’t believe I actually said that out loud.”
“Glad . . . you did. . . . I’m . . . sorry.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “I forgive you. And I hope you’ll forgive me too.”
“I do.” He struggled against tears and had to work hard to speak. “Anger blinded me. Just like love blinded your mother.”
“Love is a better blinder than anger, isn’t it?” Maddy shook her head, then her heart skipped. “I’ve been dealing with that one myself.” She leaned in and kissed Granddad on the cheek. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.”
She needed to talk to Daniel.
Now.
Daniel wasn’t anywhere with the sheep. So where could he be?
Maybe Havyn knew. Madysen trekked up the hill through the snow to the chicken yards.
Giggles and laughter floated down to her. What was going on?
“Maddy, come see the new chicks!” Havyn waved her over.
Bethany had about six of the fluffy chicks in her arms, while Eli had more on his shoulders and in his lap.
“Where did these come from?” She looked to John.
“I ordered them for our . . . um . . . unnamed chickens.” He looked a tad uncomfortable.
Bethany looked up at Maddy. “He means that these are the ones that will start the new flock to be fattened and killed. These are the fryers.”
The fact that her twelve-year-old sister could say such a thing was a bit of a shock. Must be more farm girl in her than they realized.
“We’re about to move them into the barn where they can stay warm.” Havyn smiled.
Endless Mercy Page 27
