Homecoming (Sweet Hearts of Sweet Creek Book 1)

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “I left because I know even better than you do that I can’t give him what he needs.” And as she spoke the words Nate had only hinted at, her anger seemed to dissipate, leaving only sorrow that even when they agreed on something, she ended up feeling vanquished.

  Nate blinked, stupefied. He opened his mouth to speak, seemed to think better of it and looked ahead again.

  As they drove, the silent swish of the wipers vied with the splashing of the tires through the puddles in the rocky road. The mountains, misted and gloomy, hung over Sheryl’s shoulder, and as the river plateau broadened, she couldn’t help turn for one last glimpse of them.

  An hour later they pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. Sheryl swallowed, a heaviness weighing her down. Her first impulse was to tell Nate she wanted to wait in the van instead of seeing Ed. But deep within her she hungered for what he had offered on their first visit and much as she doubted his sincerity, she still yearned for it. Mark’s love she couldn’t give in to, but the love her stepfather belatedly offered her was her due.

  She drew a deep breath, opened the door and stepped out into the rain.

  “I’ve got to see the doctor,” Nate said as he hobbled down the wet sidewalk to the front doors of the hospital. “I’ll meet you at Dad’s room.” His tone was brusque and he didn’t look at her.

  She followed Nate until without a second glance he headed to the outpatient section of the hospital. Sheryl watched him go, wondering again what single event, if any, had created such antagonism.

  With a sigh, she shook the moisture off her coat, shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and walked away, her measured tread squeaking lightly on the waxed floor. Each step brought her nearer to Ed, each footfall seemed to be a harbinger of an epiphany.

  Sheryl knew her experiences in the mountain had buffeted her protective cover, had exposed her own weaknesses. And now what would her reaction be to her stepfather, given what happened?

  He sat in the same place he had during her previous visit, the dull light softening the harsh angles of his now- thin face. Today he looked more alert, his eyes brighter, and when he saw her, his smile was a little broader.

  “Sheryl...” He lifted his good hand and held it out to her.

  She paused in the doorway, trying to let this actual image of Ed drift past her own memories.

  All that was left was this old broken man, this old lonely man. She took a steadying breath and stepped into the room. He looked up at her entrance, and a tentative smile lifted one corner of his mouth.

  “I’ve.. .been waiting.” He spoke his words carefully, each sound an effort. “Please.. .sit.. .here.”

  Sheryl pulled her purse close to her and once again sat across from her stepfather, studying him with other eyes, other emotions. The sorrow that had engulfed her up in the mountains seemed to have smudged the clarity of her memories and feelings.

  “Glad you.. .came.” Ed smiled his crooked smile at her, one side of his face staying resolutely in place. He tried to reach out to her, but Sheryl kept her hands stiffly folded in her lap.

  But as she looked at his face, she saw sorrow and regret etched clearly in the lines. She remembered the tears he had shed the last visit she’d made, when she’d told him of Jason’s death.

  She remembered the words of love spoken each time and felt her own tense shoulders sag. It was so much work to keep up her anger against him. Each time she saw him he became more pathetic and less powerful.

  He pushed himself up in his chair, his pillow falling off the chair. Sheryl got off her chair and picked it up, crouching down to tuck it between the metal arm of the chair and his frail body. As she did, she felt his good hand on her hair.

  “I wanted...to love you,” he said softly.

  Sheryl looked up at him. “What do you mean by that?” she asked. “Why do you talk of love now?”

  “Wrong...Sheryl. I’ve been so wrong.”

  Sheryl edged backward, lifting herself up onto her chair, her eyes never leaving his face. “How have you been wrong, Dad?” she whispered, wishing he could speak clearer, faster.

  “When you were little...you were so strong.” Ed leaned back and sighed. “You loved your dad so much. I was jealous.”

  Sheryl lifted her eyebrows. Sad that she had never considered that aspect, she thought. Looking back, it made sense.

  “Is that why I was never allowed to talk about him?”

  Ed frowned. “I loved your mom. She was.. .everything Nate’s mom wasn’t. Happy. Kind. I was... everything Bill Reilly wasn’t. I…know I never treated her…like I should.” He paused, his brow furrowed in concentration. Every word was such a struggle for him in so many ways.

  Sheryl clasped her hands around her knees, mentally urging the words out of him.

  “I was...jealous of your dad. I gave you…a home…a place and you didn’t…appreciate it. And I don’t know if your mom ever loved me...the same way…she loved your dad.”

  “She wasn’t in love with you?”

  Ed shook his head sorrowfully. “She didn’t love me...like I loved her.” He looked up at Sheryl, his mouth curved up in a twisted smile of memory. “She seemed to love you more. I was jealous of you. I thought you were spoiled...willful.” His voice grew quiet. “I was so wrong. I’m so...sorry.”

  “I tried. Dad, I really did.” She felt a need to tell him that, to make it clear that it wasn’t all her fault.

  “I know now.” He reached out for her. “I’ve learned a lot...from Mark...from Elise...about love.”

  Sheryl closed her eyes. Mark again. Perfect, loving Mark. How much farther was he to be put beyond her reach?

  “They showed me...loving is giving. It’s letting yourself become weak.” Ed sighed, a soft exhalation. “I didn’t give to your mother...to you...like I should have. I have been so...wrong.”

  Sheryl bent her head, still afraid to look at Ed and take what he so belatedly offered. It wasn’t enough to fill the emptiness of her life, but it would take away the hollowness of it.

  His hand touched hers and with her head still down, she wrapped her fingers around his. They squeezed hers with surprising strength. She looked at his hands, the raised veins, the heavy knuckles of a man who had worked hard. It had been difficult for him, as well. She knew he’d had a desire to get ahead. These ambitions were universal. It was just that Ed’s were stronger than some, his motivation more powerful. How he had gone about it was questionable, but after working for a living, she understood so much better its daily struggle.

  “Sheryl, I always loved you...just not the right way. I shouldn’t...have driven you away. Can you please forgive me?”

  Again Mark’s words came back to her. “You can’t build a relationship until forgiveness has been granted.”

  She looked up at him and saw such pain and regret in his face that it pulled at the bleak emptiness in her, opening it. She had no father, mother or husband. No one. And now a small part of her past was being given back to her.

  She thought back to eight years ago, to the last days she’d spent with Ed and Nate before she’d left with Jason. She had always known that the decision to marry Jason was hers and hers alone. Suddenly she realized it was no longer right to put all the fault for the mess of her life on his shoulders.

  “Jesus told us we had to forgive seventy times seven,” she whispered suddenly. “I haven’t filled my quota yet.” Ed smiled tremulously. He could say nothing, but the hand that clutched hers and the tears that drifted down his sunken cheeks said more than his halting words ever could.

  “You always had...a big heart.” He shook his head as his tears flowed more freely now.

  Sheryl felt as if that same heart was being squeezed down to a small knot, and suddenly she leaned over and kissed Ed on the cheek. He reached up and held her neck, and it seemed only natural to put her arms around him.

  Sheryl hugged him carefully, feeling the changes her eyes had noted. It suddenly struck her that he, too, had lost much.

&n
bsp; “I didn’t want...you to marry...Jason.”

  “I know, Daddy, I know,” she said, her voice thick. She pulled away, reaching into her pocket for a handkerchief and came up with the same red polka-dotted one Mark had given her just the day before. She quickly blew her nose, wiped the spilled tears, a pain knifing through her as she caught the scent of Mark on the scrap of material. “I made a mistake leaving with Jason,” she said, her voice hoarse with emotion. Sheryl stopped at that, afraid that if she spoke more she would be putting unnecessary burdens on his frail shoulders. “I guess you need to know that what happened was as much my fault. When my mother died...”

  She shouldn’t have ventured that far, she thought, swallowing down the tears. Ed could not help her, she needed to be strong on her own.

  “It wasn’t your...fault Sheryl. She always loved you...always.”

  Sheryl wiped her face once more, sitting up. As she sucked in a deep breath, controlling her sorrow, she let Ed’s words flow over her. She had received love, in different ways, she had just been too full of anger to see what had been happening. It wasn’t all her fault, she knew that, but she also knew she wasn’t innocent.

  “Thank you for telling me that. Dad.”

  Ed smiled at her, reaching out for her hand. She took his again, tracing the blue veins. He still wore his wedding ring, and Sheryl rubbed it lightly.

  “I have to also confess that you were always right about Jason. I should never have married him, and I admit that I did it all on my own.” Sheryl paused, hoping he would understand her confession. “What happened was my own fault. I tried to explain that to you in the letter I sent.”

  Ed frowned, straightening. “Which...letter?”

  Sheryl shook her head, not wanting to destroy the moment of harmony between them by bringing up something he had obviously forgotten.

  “Did you send me a letter?” he continued.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  Sheryl jumped as Nate’s overly loud voice broke the moment. He hobbled into the room, the clump of his crutches the only sound.

  Ed frowned as if wanting to ask more questions, but Sheryl turned to her stepbrother.

  “So what did the doctor have to say?” Not that she cared, but she needed to change the subject. Nate’s entrance couldn’t have been better planned.

  Nate glanced quickly at her, his expression wary as if he didn’t quite trust her. “I have to be on this walking cast for another two weeks, and then it can come off.”

  “Good thing...haying is over,” Ed put in.

  Nate looked away and nodded.

  Ed turned to Sheryl. “How long are you staying yet?”

  “I’m leaving tonight.”

  Ed frowned and looked back at Nate who merely shrugged. “So soon?” Ed asked of Sheryl.

  “I have to, Dad. I’m taking some courses, and if I don’t get them done, I can’t be admitted to university this fall.” Sheryl spoke hurriedly, hoping her explanation would satisfy him. His words sounded suddenly empty and mundane to her, sitting across from her dying stepfather.

  “I thought you...were moving back home?”

  Home. The word sounded so comfortable. She had no home in Edmonton, but she knew she could not live

  here.

  “Sheryl only came up to see you, because she knew that it was only a matter of time for you.” Nate said.

  “And I haven’t...conveniently died yet.” Ed smiled, but Sheryl couldn’t share the macabre joke.

  “I’ll try to come back again. Dad,” she reassured him. If I can get a job, she added silently, wondering how she was going to work up the nerve to ask Nate to pay for her bus ticket to get her home. She didn’t have enough cash to pay for it herself. “I’ll keep in touch.”

  Ed nodded and turned back to Nate. “Did Mark go to the upper…pastures?”

  “A few days ago. He should be back by tomorrow or the day after if all goes well.”

  “How much.. .hay did you...get?”

  “We did really well. Our banker, Allen, will be pleased, anyhow. Looks like things are finally pulling ahead a little for us.”

  Sheryl smiled to herself. Bankers and crops and weather. The eternal tug-of-war that went on with ranching. Nate’s and Ed’s conversation hearkened back to many made over supper tables at the end of the day. When she’d lived at home, she’d been a part of it—how many bales today, how much do we need to put up, will we have to borrow money to buy more, will we have enough to sell, will the rain stay away, will cattle prices hold?

  Ed lay back, his face pale. Sweat beaded his brow, his weariness obvious to Sheryl.

  She let him and Nate talk for a while, and after a few minutes reminded Nate that the bus would be leaving soon.

  “Okay,” he replied, getting up, still avoiding any eye contact with her. “I’ll wait for you in the van.”

  He left and Sheryl turned to Ed, surprised again at the change that had occurred from her first visit to now. A certain lightness and peace had entered a small part of her life, and she treasured it. One more time she leaned over to hug Ed, this time her motions easier, more spontaneous.

  “I love you, Sheryl.” He drew back, cradling her cheek in his one good hand. “But you have to know, God loves you more.”

  Sheryl only nodded, afraid to speak, afraid to think too hard of the supreme irony of finding peace with him just before he was to die. “I’ll keep in touch with you. Dad,” she whispered. She kissed him again. “I love you.”

  He smiled at that, nodding his thanks.

  Sheryl straightened, turned and resolutely left the room. She walked down the hall, through the doors and stepped into the van that Nate had driven up to the door, her movements mechanical, her thoughts fully occupied.

  Maybe the fact that she might never see him again gave his words so much weight. Maybe it was his closeness to death that made her mull over what he had said about God. But as they drove down the rain-soaked street, Ed’s words resonated through her head.

  They reached the bus depot, and much to Sheryl’s surprise Nate paid for her bus ticket. She thanked him and, flinging her backpack over her shoulder, picked up her small suitcase and walked over to the empty chairs in the waiting area.

  Her bus wouldn’t leave for another hour.

  Nate clumped behind her, and after hesitating a moment he sat down in the empty chair across from her, holding his crutches across his leg.

  “Here,” he said, handing her a few bills. “Some cash for the trip. You’ll need to eat I guess.

  “I’m good,” she said stiffly.

  “Please don’t get so huffy. It’s wages for the haying season,” he told her gruffly.

  “In that case.” Sheryl pocketed it, thankful for the small buffer the money would give her when she got home. “I appreciate that,” she said.

  Nate nodded in acknowledgment, his fingers clenching and unclenching the crutches. “What did Dad say about the letter?” he finally blurted out.

  Sheryl frowned. “What letter?”

  “You sent a letter to him asking to come back. I heard you asking about it. What did he say?”

  “How did you know what my letter said? Dad didn’t seem to.”

  Nate turned red and looked away.

  And suspicion crawled up Sheryl’s spine. “What letter?” she pressed.

  He blew out a heavy sigh. “I couldn’t let him see it.”

  Sheryl’s mouth fell open as she realized what he was saying. “You read my letter? You kept it from Ed? Why?”

  “After all you did to him, to me, you took what we were offering and threw it all back in our faces when you took up with Jason. You didn’t want to be a part of our family, you never wanted to help.”

  “I was ten years old when I came into your family.”

  “And at your age I was already pitching bales, stuking, riding fence.” Nate stared at her, his blue eyes so much like his father’s. But where Ed’s had been softened by sorrow, Nate’s were hardened with anger. “I was fourteen whe
n you came and in all the years I worked side by side with my father, he never cut me the slack he cut you. And how do you thank him? You take off with the one guy guaranteed to make him so angry that I had to suffer for it. And then you have the nerve to ask if you could come back.”

  Nate spat the words at her so quickly Sheryl barely had a chance to absorb the shock of them before he threw more at her.

  “I thought you knew how I felt,” he continued. “How I cared about you, but all you could think of was ways to hurt us. I loved you, but I don’t think you even knew.”

  Sheryl’s breath left her, she stared at him, the busyness of the bus terminal receding in a rush of black, with Nate’s face at its center.

  What was he talking about?

  “Nate, I don’t understand.” She grasped for coherency, trying desperately to make sense of what he had just spilled on her. “You said you loved me?”

  “To my shame, yes.” Nate’s fingers on his crutches were almost white. “I loved you from the moment you were old enough. But you made it clear that you preferred Jason’s company.”

  “I never knew, Nate.” Sheryl stared at him in disbelief. “I really didn’t know.”

  “Well neither does Elise or anyone else.” He tapped his fingers against the wood of his crutches as he looked past her, not seeing. “I love Elise, and I’ll do anything for her. I don’t want her to know this. I got over it quick enough and it’s not something I’m proud of.”

  Sheryl pulled her hands over her face, as if trying to absorb what he had just said. Casting back over the past events, looks, comments thrown her way, it now made sense. Why didn’t she see it before?

  His words seemed to hover, buffeted by the emotions that swirled around both of them. But Sheryl wasn’t finished.