by Lisa Harris
“None of that took the place of growing up with a father.” Catherine cut in.
“I know.”
“And when Mother died?” Catherine held her gaze steady. “Didn’t that make any difference at all?”
“I didn’t know how I could return when I had nothing. I had enough for a bed at night and a couple of meals during the day, but that was it. I…I didn’t want you to know that I’d failed.”
“You’re right about having nothing,” she countered. “No gold, no money…and no family.”
He moved to stand in front of her. “No matter what you feel about me, Catherine, that was the part that hurt the most. I’ve wasted the past eight years feeling too ashamed to come home. Something happens to a man who’s been proclaimed dead when he’s really very much alive. It’s like I was given a second chance, and I realized that it was time I returned to Revenge…and to my family. Something I should have done years ago.” He grasped Catherine’s hands. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. All I can hope for is that someday, you might grant it to me anyway.”
Chapter Twelve
Catherine dug harder into the soft soil at the base of a tomato plant, hoping the physical work would alleviate some of the anger that had taken root around her heart. She’d attended enough church services to know God’s command about forgiving your neighbor, but what about her father? Surely God understood that forgiveness wasn’t something she could simply dole out, like slices of Mrs. McBride’s apple pie at a church picnic. It was a question she’d wrestled with the entire night.
She moved on to the next plant and continued digging and pulling out the weeds. Her father’s arrival two days ago had turned the memorial service they’d planned into a welcome-home party…and had left her full of questions and suspicions. While she tried to understand her sisters’ exuberant welcome, they had yet to grasp her hesitation in letting him back into their lives. And she’d seen from the looks on their faces that they wanted her to grant their father the forgiveness he’d begged for. But she hadn’t been able to voice the words that could never come from her heart.
A shadow crossed behind her, blocking the early morning sun. Catherine glanced up at the figure looming over her. Isaiah Morgan stood beside her.
“Your garden’s beautiful. Looks as if you’re going to have a nice crop come harvest time, and the flowers…you definitely have your mother’s touch.”
“Thank you.” Catherine continued working.
He rubbed his chin with his fingers, a longtime habit she remembered from her childhood. So he was just as nervous as she was. “I just thought we could talk awhile?”
Catherine pushed the soil back into place. “I’m not sure that there’s anything to talk about.”
“Just for a few minutes. I promise.” He turned toward the sun that was just reaching the tops of the oaks behind the store property. “I can’t seem to get enough sunshine after all the frigid winters I’ve lived through.”
Catherine adjusted her straw hat to block the light then handed him the basket sitting beside her. While she had purposely avoided a personal encounter with her father since his arrival, perhaps it was time to make an effort. “I was planning to pick some raspberries while Audrey watches the store this morning. You could help me if you’d like.”
He took the offered basket and followed her. “I remember watching you and your mother working in the garden. You always had a knack for living things—that and numbers. We all know you got both of those gifts from your mother.”
“They are things I enjoy.”
Catherine quickened her pace, unsure of what he wanted from her. How did one pick up a conversation left forgotten for such a long time? She didn’t know him any more than he knew her. And any thoughts of wanting things to be as they had been were marred by the fact that eight years now stood between them, and no excuse he could come up with would erase that. They stopped at the long row of vines laden with juicy red fruit that lined the back boundary of the property. Catherine popped one of the berries into her mouth then started filling the basket.
“How do you do it?” he asked.
She glanced over at him. “Do what?”
“I’ve watched you the past couple of days, and I’m amazed at all you do. The store’s running far better than when I was here, the garden’s stunning, your sisters are happy…When do you have time for yourself? For fun, or even sleep, for that matter?”
“I’ve always done what I have to do.”
Catherine cringed, wishing she could melt the icy currents around her heart. The conversation sounded more like an exchange with one of her customers than a heart-to-heart talk with her father.
“What about the raspberries?” he asked. “Seems like a bit of a venture for a busy storekeeper.”
“Emily’s husband gives me all the fruit jars I need from his factory in exchange for my making raspberry preserves every summer. I love raspberries.”
“I remember more than once having to get onto you and your sisters for coming home with empty baskets, which meant I missed out on eating many a good pie because of the lack of filling.”
Catherine couldn’t help but smile at the memory of the scoldings and how she’d been unable to eat her mother’s supper because she was so full of raspberries.
“That Grady O’Conner spoils your sister, doesn’t he?” he asked.
“He’s very good to her.”
“I’d say so. Like, for example, ostriches. Who ever heard of raising those crazy birds here in Ohio? I’d half decided to tell him it couldn’t be done; that they’d all freeze to death come winter, but have you seen what he has planned…”
His voice faded into the background. Catherine felt another surge of anger rise to the surface as she thought about Emily. Where had Isaiah Morgan been when Grady came to the house to ask permission to marry Emily? Or the day Emily walked down the aisle on her wedding day? She’d been the one to hold her sister’s hand when she’d cried over the loss of a mother who was never coming back and a father who didn’t want to come back.
“Catherine?”
She dropped another berry into the basket and blinked away the painful memories. “I’m sorry. It’s been a rough few days with the breakin, preparations for Audrey’s wedding, and now…”
And now your being here.
“I know that my return hasn’t been easy for you. Or for any of your sisters, for that matter.” His gaze dropped to his black boots that peeked from under a pair of worn trousers. “Coming home wasn’t easy for me, either. I spent the entire trip here fearing you wouldn’t even let me in the back door.”
Catherine popped another berry into her mouth. Her father had returned like the prodigal son, but instead of embracing his return, she’d continued to let resentment fester and grow like the weeds she’d pulled this morning. “I suppose I didn’t give you the welcome home you were hoping for.”
He set the basket between them and turned to her. “I know it’s not enough, Catherine, but I am sorry. I don’t know what else to say. Only that I hope you will one day forgive me.”
Catherine squeezed her hands into fists at her sides, wishing the words she knew she should say were easier to speak. Jesus would have welcomed her father with a feast and spoken of forgiving a man seventy times seven. Hadn’t her father come to her with words of repentance? Except Isaiah Morgan’s words had never been worth anything. He knew how to say what one wanted to hear.
Is that the kind of forgiveness you meant, Jesus? Forgiving even when the other person has no intention of changing?
“Catherine?”
She glanced up at him, her emotions a tangled web of confusion. She couldn’t do this. Maybe if he’d been as determined when it came to keeping his family together, she’d have been able to find the words. But in her mind, he’d given up the title of Father years ago. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Then I’ll wait until you can.”
She moved down another foot and started picking berries
again, thankful that they were far enough from the store that no one would overhear them. “Why should I believe that you’ve changed? You’ve always known what to say, but that’s not enough anymore.”
“All I want is your forgiveness.”
“So that’s why you came home, is it? To ease your own conscience.”
“Yes…no.” He dropped down onto the grass beside her and rested his arms against his legs. “I’m back because I spent my life as a coward. Staying in Alaska was the easy thing, because I knew if I came back I’d have to explain. And now…I just need you to understand that.”
She spread out her dress and sat beside him, feeling drawn to his words, but still unable to let her heart completely believe him. “Why now? Why come back at all?”
His deep laugh fell flat. “You always were the one full of questions.”
Catherine pressed her hands into the soft grass. “I’m the one who spent my life raising my sisters. I’m the one who promised Momma I’d take care of them and make sure they married decent, Christian men.” Harrison flashed before her, but she shook away the image. “And I’m the one who gave up marriage and children to make sure that promise was kept.”
“So that’s why you lost Corbin? Because he wasn’t ready to take on a ready-made family?”
Catherine fiddled with the edge of the basket. “What happened wasn’t Corbin’s fault.”
“Then what happened? Because it seems to me that I’m not the only one who’s spent most of his life running from someone I love.”
“How dare you compare what I’ve given up with your selfishness?” Catherine stood before grabbing the handle of her basket. It tipped over on its edge, sending berries scattering across the grass. She reached down to pick them up, irritated that his presence could affect her so much. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d learned long ago how to wrap up her emotions so tightly no one saw them. “This is completely different.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
“Why?”
“Because something tells me I’m not the only one who needs forgiving. Sometimes we end up being hardest on ourselves.”
“No.” Catherine shook her head. She dropped the last berry back into the basket then started for the house. He didn’t deserve to know. Just like he didn’t deserve to walk back into their lives and think he could suddenly be a father to them. It was too late for that.
Just like it was too late for her and Corbin.
He followed right behind her. “I know it’s not going to be easy for you to believe me, but I never meant to hurt your mother, or any of you girls.”
No matter how many lines he tried to feed her, or how many excuses he gave, she’d never believe his leaving was for anything other than selfish reasons. “You left us here alone. She was sick…”
“We knew the risks.”
Catherine spun around. “We? You’re telling me that this was a decision you made together?”
“She knew I was too restless to be tied down to a store—”
“And a family?”
“It was never because of you, but she supported my decision. We thought it might be the way to something better.”
“So you’re telling me that she let you go? Just like that?”
“It wasn’t easy on either of us.”
Catherine turned to face him. “This is what I don’t understand. You act as if she just let you go. Like she had no reservations about you leaving her alone with four children and a store—”
“She wanted me to follow my heart.”
“With no regard to those around you or your responsibilities? No regard to the consequences left behind by your leaving?”
“She understood me and who I was.”
She shook her head. “My mother was everything you’re not. Kind, gentle, faithful…”
“And because of that, she was willing to let me follow my heart.” His gaze pleaded for her to understand. “Then, when she died, I didn’t know how to return to a house without her. Surely you know what it’s like to lose someone.”
Catherine swung her basket around and started again for the house, wishing she could ignore the twinges of understanding. But even that didn’t change anything. He’d abandoned her and her sisters, and forgiveness wasn’t something she could simply switch on and off like the telephone.
“What about your heart?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe it’s time you followed yours. Marry Corbin without feeling any regrets of neglecting your sisters.”
“Marry Corbin…” Catherine shook off the ridiculous notion. “Mr. Hunter and I…whatever was between us all those years ago is gone. It’s been gone for years.”
He let out a deep chuckle. “I might be a fool in every sense of the word, but I know love when I see it.”
“Love? You just don’t understand love. While you were off chasing some hollow dream, I was here keeping the family together. I had a promise to keep, and I…” Catherine dumped the basket of berries beside the back door and pushed away the tears. “I let Corbin go.”
“Tell me what happened, Catherine.”
She jerked her head up. “Why?”
“Because just like me, you’ve got to find a way out of the past. You’ve got to forgive yourself.”
Catherine shook her head and swallowed the sob trying to work its way up her throat. The past didn’t matter any longer. Hadn’t she reminded herself of that very fact a hundred times this week?
“I told you, whatever there was between Corbin and I was over years ago.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why does it matter to you? Don’t think you can waltz back in here and make everything right.”
“What happened?”
Catherine slumped her shoulders, defeated. The turmoil of emotion pressed against her from every side. “We’d planned our wedding to be a simple celebration in the spring. But with you gone and Momma sick, we decided to put off the wedding. At first it was postponed temporarily, but then one day I knew that she wasn’t going to live.”
Catherine watched the cloud of emotions pass through her father’s eyes and for a moment wondered if he really did regret what he’d done.
“I’m sorry.”
“I remember the night she died. I sat the girls down in the parlor and told them that Momma wasn’t coming back. And that the four of us were going to have to work hard to keep things running.”
Feelings of loneliness and fear swept over her. Feelings she never wanted to admit to him, because he was the one who had left her.
“I would have thought Corbin would have wanted to help,” he said. “I remember how good he was at bookkeeping.”
“His father was good at bookkeeping, but I don’t think that was ever what Corbin wanted.”
“What did you want?”
A house, a family…a husband.
Catherine avoided his question. “Corbin came to the house later that night. Mrs. Morrilton was in the kitchen playing chaperone. Corbin promised me that nothing had changed between us. He told me we could still get married, but I knew it would never work. I had Audrey, Emily, and Lily to care for and a store to keep up. I had no idea how to add marriage to my plate.”
“So you’re the one who broke things off?”
Catherine squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, wishing she could erase the one regret she’d had to live with her entire life. The whole town of Revenge believed that Corbin had walked out on her so that he wouldn’t be saddled with a ready-made family, but the truth was far from what she’d allowed them to believe. He hadn’t fought to keep her, but she’d been the one who’d sent Corbin away.
Catherine wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, unable to stop the flow of tears. “I…told him that I didn’t love him anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d promised Momma I’d take care of my sisters. There wasn’t time for love. Corbin had a job offer in Lancaster, and I knew he’d be
happier there than working here at the store and feeling obligated to provide for all of us.”
Her father pulled off his hat and clenched the brim between his fingers. “Something I should have been doing.”
Catherine heard the defeat in her father’s voice, along with guilt and regret. But that didn’t change anything. Because he was right. He should have been the one to ensure that his family was cared for.
“I think part of me believed he would stay despite my protests,” she continued. “To stand up and fight for me. Instead, he walked away.”
“Does Corbin know the truth?”
“I never told him. A few days later, he left Revenge. I heard later that he was working on a ranch down in Texas.” Catherine leaned against the side of the house, feeling the emotional fatigue of the confession. “Then, I barely had time to miss him. I was so busy making sure we had everything we needed, I didn’t have time—or take the time—to think about what I’d lost. Momma had taught me all she could, but it was a struggle not to lose customers. Few thought I could make the store survive that first year.”
“Seems to me that you proved yourself.”
She shot him a wry grin. “We’re still in business.”
He tugged on his beard. “Was it worth it?”
“Losing Corbin?”
He nodded. “You don’t have to do it on your own.”
Irritation loomed its head again. Couldn’t he see that losing Corbin had broken her heart? “What would you have had me do?”
“Tell Corbin the truth. That you loved him. That you still love him. You know I was right when I said that we both have a lot of forgiving to do.”
“While I did what I felt I had to do at the time, how I felt all those years ago has no bearing on my life today. It would only dredge up a bucketful of emotions better left buried.” She shook her head. “It’s too late for the truth.”
