by Delia Parr
Orralynne was sitting in the rocking chair Ditty had carried into the room from the kitchen, and she was holding the sleeping newborn babe close, crooning as she rocked.
She had surprised everyone earlier when she asked Mr. Lewis to stay with her comatose brother so she could stay with Judith. Emma had witnessed firsthand how Orralynne had held Judith’s hand and offered encouragement during the younger woman’s labor. Orralynne had also flatly refused to leave after the baby’s birth in order to stay and help change the bed linens and assist Judith into a fresh nightgown Emma had given to her.
Even so, the vision before her now was nothing shy of a most amazing miracle. Orralynne’s features had softened and gentled. She looked younger. The bitterness in her gaze had melted to awe—raw, unadorned, and innocent awe.
Overwhelmed by the woman’s total transformation, Emma swallowed the lump in her throat, reluctant to interrupt and deliver the news she carried. She feared, however, that this news could not wait. “Mr. Lewis thought I should summon you,” Emma whispered as she approached her.
Orralynne glanced up from the babe. “Has my brother. . . ?”
“No. He’s still comatose, but his breathing is getting very, very shallow,” she murmured. “I’ll stay here with Judith and little Isaac so you can go to your brother.”
Orralynne bowed her head and pressed her lips to the baby’s forehead before handing him up to Emma. “When Judith wakes up, she’ll want to nurse him again,” she whispered as they exchanged places.
When Orralynne started for the door, Emma called out to her in a whisper. “Mr. Lewis said he would fetch Dr. Jeffers if you think he should.”
Orralynne stopped but did not respond before slipping quietly from the room.
A short while later, Emma handed Isaac over to his proud father. Unable to find Mr. Lewis in either of the parlors, she headed directly to the kitchen, where she found him with Ditty having a late supper.
“I’ll fix something for you to eat,” Ditty offered.
“Sit, sit,” Emma urged. “I’m too worried about Orralynne and her brother to eat much of anything.”
“Dr. Jeffers said we shouldn’t expect Mr. Burke to last much longer,” Ditty said quietly.
Emma nodded, both relieved the man’s suffering would soon end and saddened that Orralynne’s grief was just beginning.
“Mr. Lewis?”
All heads turned toward the sound of Orralynne’s voice.
The woman was standing in the doorway. “Please summon Reverend Austin. Quickly, if you will,” she urged and promptly disappeared from view.
Without comment, Mr. Lewis left his supper on the table and headed for town again. Emma’s first thought was to offer a prayer of thanksgiving that Mr. Burke had not only roused to wakefulness but had also changed his mind about seeing the minister. Her second thought was to add a prayer for Orralynne, that she would remain strong through the difficult hours ahead.
She silently offered both prayers, headed up to her room, and quietly opened the door to the staircase that led below to her office. For too long, she had let her own feelings about the Burkes justify the fact that she had left them alone and allowed them to isolate themselves from her as well as her guests.
Judith Massey, however, had shown Emma how to truly love her neighbor.
With that lesson tucked deep within her spirit, Emma did what she would have done for any other guest who was facing the death of a loved one alone.
She descended the staircase slowly, one step at a time, using the very dim light in the office to guide her. She heard no sounds coming from below, other than the hush of shallow breathing. When Emma was halfway down the steps, she sat down and folded her skirts around her legs. “I’m here, Orralynne,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t be alone right now. Would you like me to come down and sit with you?”
She heard a slight rustle of fabric, as if Orralynne stirred, but the woman uttered no response.
“I’ll just sit here, then,” Emma suggested. She prayed, waited, dozed now and again, only to wake and start the cycle again. Then Orralynne’s plaintive yet insistent cry startled Emma awake.
“God will punish you, for all eternity, unless you confess and ask for forgiveness. Please, Lester. You’ve done a terrible, terrible wrong. You can’t leave this world without making your peace with God.”
Emma could not hear the dying man’s response, if indeed he made one at all. She felt incredibly awkward, as if she had intruded on an intensely private moment, especially since she did not have Orralynne’s express permission to stay. Even though Orralynne had lowered her voice now and Emma could hear only muffled sounds, she could hear enough to know the brother and sister were having some type of conversation and felt obligated to leave.
She held on to the wall with one hand and stood up. She was easing the kink in her knees and arching her back to stretch the taut muscles before turning to go back upstairs, when Orralynne appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
“I don’t know what to do. Reverend Austin still isn’t here. My brother needs to . . . He has to . . . I don’t know how. . .”
“I’ll try to help,” Emma offered and descended the stairs as quickly as she could. The light in her office was so dim she could only make out Orralynne’s silhouette, as well as the dying man’s as he lay ever so still on his deathbed.
“I think he wants to confess, but . . . but he’s failing so quickly now, I don’t know what to do. May God forgive me, I don’t know what to do.”
With her heart pounding, Emma took Orralynne by the arm and knelt with her at Lester’s bedside. At first, the man was so still, she thought he had already passed, until she heard him take a gasp of air.
“Take his hand,” she urged.
“He can’t even manage a word,” Orralynne whispered as she placed her hand over her brother’s.
“God will hear the words in his heart that he can’t say aloud,” Emma assured her.
“How can I be sure? How will I know he’s saying enough?”
“You can speak for him and ask him to nod, to let you know he agrees with what you’re saying, if that would make you feel better.”
“You do it,” Orralynne argued. “God will listen to you.”
When Lester Burke gasped for air again, Emma swallowed hard and knew there was no time to convince Orralynne that God heard the prayers of anyone and everyone who turned to Him. “Mr. Burke,” she began, “are you sorry for all the wrong you have done and all the good you have failed to do in this life? If you are, say so with your heart and simply nod to let us know that you understand what I’m saying.”
One nod. One very slow, very deliberate nod.
Emma blinked back tears. “And do you seek forgiveness from God, the Father who created you, and from His Son, who gave up His life that you might claim eternal life, and from His Spirit, who waits to welcome you Home?”
Another nod.
A single gasp.
And then, on the very day little Isaac Massey entered this world, there was a hallowed silence as the soul of Lester Burke passed from this world and through the gates of heaven, free from suffering and free from sin.
Weeping, Orralynne turned toward Emma, who opened her arms to embrace the woman in love, without reservation and without hesitation.
She held the grieving woman until Reverend Austin arrived. When he left some time later, Emma went into the library, where the minister had been talking with Orralynne. The oil lamps in the library were also set low, but the fire added enough light for Emma to see the grief and sorrow etched on Orralynne’s face.
Looking forlorn and utterly drained, Orralynne sat in one of the two leather chairs near the fire. Emma sat down in the other chair but offered only her presence as comfort.
After many long, quiet moments, Orralynne sighed. “Reverend Austin said there’s no sin too grievous that God would not forgive. Even if that’s true,” she whispered as she stared into the fire, “even if he’s right, and Lester’
s soul is in heaven now, there’s no place I can lay his body to rest where people won’t see his tombstone and read his name and remember what he did . . . what a terrible, terrible thing he did.”
“People’s memories are shorter than you think,” Emma argued, assuming Orralynne was referring to the lawsuits her brother had planned to file against so many people after the fire. She also assumed that those potential suits ended with the man’s death. “Today’s gossip quickly fades with tomorrow’s,” she added. “In time, people will forget—”
“In time, everyone will find out what he did, and I will be the one to bear the brunt of their disdain.”
Emma swallowed hard. “I’m afraid many people already know about the lawsuits.”
Orralynne sniffled and shook her head. “I’m not talking about the lawsuits. I’ve already spoken to Mr. Larimore about them. There won’t be any lawsuits now,” she whispered, solving the mystery of why she had met with the lawyer.
“Then what has you so troubled?” Emma asked gently.
“I’m talking about what Lester did, not what he was planning to do,” she countered. “If Dr. Jeffers doesn’t know for certain, he surely has his suspicions. He’s not a stupid man. Mr. Larimore knows for certain because he told me as much, which means Lester’s secret will not be buried with him.”
Thoroughly confused about what Lester Burke might have done, Emma shook her head. “Even if they know whatever it is your brother did, it’s not like either man is simply keeping a secret he might be tempted to tell. Doctors and lawyers are ethically bound not to discuss anything related to their patients or clients,” she countered.
“Perhaps if Lester had lived, that would be true. Now I don’t know if those men will hold silent or not.” Tears ran down her cheeks, but she did not wipe them away. “But it doesn’t really matter. The undertaker will be coming soon. Mr. Larimore already arranged for him to come as soon as my brother died to prepare his body for burial. I simply can’t do it. I don’t even know how to do it. And then he’ll know, too. And he’ll talk. And I’ll be forced to leave for the shame of it. And I have nowhere to go. And no one to take me in. And no one who cares.”
She wept, her tears and grief finally ending her rambling.
Touched to the very essence of her spirit, Emma got up, knelt before the woman, and took both of her hands in her own. “Nothing like that is going to happen,” she promised as she set aside whatever it was that this man had done to concentrate on helping the woman sitting before her.
“We simply won’t let that happen. If it’s the undertaker you’re worried about, then we’ll send him away. I’ll help you with your brother. I’ll show you what to do. Whatever it is you’re worried about, no one else need ever know.”
Orralynne let go of Emma’s hands to finally wipe away her tears. “Then you’ll see for yourself and you’ll know. Why would I expect you not to tell anyone what you see for yourself? Why should I believe you’d protect me from what my brother did?”
“It can’t be as bad as all that,” Emma argued. “What could your brother have done that was so awful—”
“Don’t be kind. Please don’t be kind to me,” Orralynne snapped. “You won’t want to be kind once you learn the truth, because the truth is that my brother deliberately set our cottage on fire. The roof didn’t catch on fire because of the explosion or the other fires, like everyone thinks. Lester did it. Lester set the fire himself. And he did it on purpose so he could sue and get a huge settlement.”
Emma gasped. Appalled, her heart began to pound. The very thought that Lester Burke would have turned the tragedy that had destroyed so many people’s lives into a ploy to be used for his own gain made her mouth sour with bile. To act so belligerent and demanding afterward, when he knew the fire in the cottage was nothing but fraud, nearly left her breathless. “No. He didn’t. He couldn’t have done such a thing,” she argued, simply because she could not believe anyone, even Lester Burke, could be that despicable.
“Well, he did. He crawled up into the attic with that bad foot of his and started that fire. I didn’t know what he’d been doing up there, even after he came down and told me to get outside, but no one will ever believe me.”
Orralynne dropped her gaze. “When he was up in the attic, he stepped on a number of nails. The puncture wounds got infected, but Lester was too afraid to send for the doctor because he knew his secret would be discovered. That’s what killed him in the end. His secret. His terrible, terrible secret. And once everyone finds out what he did, they’ll hate him for it. And they’ll hate me, too, because they’ll never believe that I had no part in my brother’s scheme. None at all.”
Emma sat back on her haunches. Orralynne was right. If anyone ever learned what Lester Burke had done, his name would forever be associated with the evil of his actions. Orralynne, unfortunately, would also be branded with the sin of her brother.
“So now you know the truth,” Orralynne whispered. “Sooner or later, you’ll talk to someone who will tell someone else, and eventually the truth won’t be a secret any longer.”
“I believe you. I do,” Emma replied, “but we all have secrets we pray won’t ever be known.” Content to let the good Lord judge the man who had sought forgiveness in his very last moments on earth, she vowed to make sure that Lester Burke’s secret would be buried with him so that Orralynne might find some semblance of hope in the very desperate future she faced.
33
ALTHOUGH MANY OF THE CURIOUS had trudged up to Hill House to view the deceased on Friday, few offered more than a nod of condolence to Orralynne Burke, and none of them joined the small number of people gathered in the cemetery behind the church to lay Lester Burke to rest Saturday morning.
Snow flurries swirled in gentle gusts of wind and huddled on capes and coats and hats and bonnets as yet another storm threatened to bury Candlewood under more snow and bitterly cold weather.
Standing at the head of those gathered, Reverend Austin concluded the brief graveside prayers. Grief-stricken yet stoic, Orralynne stood with Mr. Lewis on one side and Mr. Massey on the other at the foot of her brother’s grave. Mrs. Massey, obviously, could not attend. The Hill House family, including the travelers who had returned late yesterday afternoon, lined either side of the grave. On one side, Reverend Glenn, Aunt Frances, Liesel, and Ditty stood shoulder to shoulder. On the other, Zachary Breckenwith stood between Emma and Mother Garrett.
Out of respect for Orralynne’s wishes, the mourners remained at the grave site until the very last shovelful of earth filled in the burial plot, which would remain unmarked until the tombstone could be prepared. Only Emma, however, knew that this gesture reassured Orralynne that her brother’s secret had indeed been buried with him.
Saddened by the opportunities she had missed to be a better friend and neighbor to Lester Burke, she hoped to do better in the coming days and weeks as Orralynne confronted her very uncertain future.
After returning to Hill House and sharing a light meal together, one by one the mourners left the table. Reverend Glenn retired to his room with Butter. Liesel and Ditty left to go home to their families. Mother Garrett and Aunt Frances started cleaning up the kitchen, leaving Emma alone with the remaining guests.
She noted the sag to Orralynne’s shoulders and the circles under her eyes. “Perhaps you should rest awhile upstairs,” she suggested.
Orralynne moistened her lips, as if to say something, then turned to Mr. Massey instead and looked to him to answer for her.
“As it happens,” he replied, “my wife and I invited Miss Burke to stay with us. Since Judith’s mother isn’t here, Miss Burke has kindly offered to help with the housekeeping and such. I promised Judith that I’d bring Miss Burke home with me as soon as she could pack her belongings.”
“I packed my travel bag before we left for the cemetery,” Orralynne offered. “It’s upstairs in my room. I packed up my brother’s things in the library, as well,” she said, turning to Emma. “I was wondering
if I might store them here for a spell until I know where I’m going to be living permanently.”
“There’s more than enough room in the garret,” Emma assured her. She was surprised yet very happy that the Masseys had been so welcoming. “I’ll see to his things for you, and please know that you are welcome to come back here to Hill House. Always.”
Mr. Massey stood up. “I can move Mr. Burke’s things to the garret. I have to go upstairs to get Miss Burke’s travel bag anyway.”
“Another pair of hands will make the task easier before I head back home,” Zachary suggested, and they left together with Orralynne leading the way.
Emma shook her head and looked at Mr. Lewis. “It seems everyone has cleared out with plans of their own today.”
Mr. Lewis cleared his throat and stood up. “In truth, I’m going to take my leave, as well. I’d like to pack up my wagon and be on my way before the next storm hits, which appears to be soon. The Burkes’ portraits are still in the library, and they need to dry more completely. I hope it’s not an imposition to leave them here with you since Miss Burke is settling elsewhere.”
“Not at all,” Emma insisted as she got to her feet. “I was wondering if Mr. Burke ever finished the suit of clothes he was making for you.”
“No,” he said quietly. “As circumstances grew more serious, I rather thought he wouldn’t have the strength.”
“You’re going to Pennsylvania, if my memory serves me right,” she said, recalling their conversation in the library.
“Hopefully,” he replied with a smile as he walked around the table toward her. He handed her a note, folded and sealed with wax. “I’m afraid I’m not very good with words, especially when I must say farewell. I wonder if you might forgive me if all I say is thank you for now. You can read this later, after I’m gone.”
