The Long Road Home Romance Collection

by Judi Ann Ehresman

  Bess’s lips still tingled from his kiss, even when he was gone. She stood still for a few moments with her arms wrapped tightly around her slightly enlarged waist. She shook her head. It never ceased to amaze her that after all the men she had been with in her life, Robert could make her feel like she had never been kissed before. How did he do that? How did God do that?

  Suddenly Bess felt a firm thumping in her stomach. She loosened her arms and laid her hands gently on her abdomen. There it was again! She stood frozen to the spot, afraid if she moved it would quit. There was a pause, and then she felt it again. Tears flowed down her cheeks. Bess knew she should finish cleaning up the breakfast things, but she couldn’t move. She didn’t want to miss one movement, so she stood there by the back door, waiting from one kick to the next.

  Finally she forced herself to attend to the dishes. The kettle was sending steam all over the kitchen and she knew if she didn’t get it, her dishwater would boil completely away before she could wash the dishes. She moved slowly, waiting expectantly to see if the movements would continue or stop entirely.

  While she poured the boiling water into the dishpan, something changed in her stomach, and then the energetic little movements began again at a different place. She was laughing and crying with the wonder of it as she washed the dishes.

  She was putting the last few dishes away, tears still dripping down her cheeks, when Robert came in to see if she was ready. “What? What is it?” he asked with concern.

  “Come here,” Bess said it quietly, so as not to disturb the energetic baby inside. Bess took Robert’s hand and laid it firmly on her stomach. Almost immediately the little one obliged with a firm pounding. The joy that sprang into Robert’s eyes was the best gift Bess could have hoped to give him.

  “Goodness, he certainly is an energetic little fellow!” Robert pressed his hand more firmly, waiting expectantly. Before long he was rewarded.

  “And maybe he is not a fellow at all,” Bess said smugly as she untied her apron. “Come on. We must go. I would love to have some time with Clara while we are in town,” Bess added as she reached for her coat.

  Bess had asked Robert to stay with her as she talked with Pastor Lewis. When Marita brought them all a cup of coffee, Bess encouraged her to stay as well.

  Both of the Lewises were surprised and pleased to hear of the expected child. Marita was very quiet as they all talked, but Bess knew that she wanted to not interfere with her husband’s wise counsel. Bess could also tell that Marita prayed for her as she listened to Bess’s struggle with the guilt.

  Robert sat quietly also and listened with Marita. Bess spoke slowly at first, but soon the words tumbled out. She poured out her heart as Pastor Lewis observed her with tender kindness. When she had told them all about her sense of guilt and unworthiness, she was quiet.

  No one said anything for a little while. She knew Pastor Lewis was praying for wisdom and was very careful about his words.

  Finally he spoke. “First, let me remind you that none of us deserves the good things in our lives. We all deserve nothing short of death. We are so filthy with guilt and sin that God cannot even look on us. But because of the gift of His Son’s life, sacrificed on our behalf, God forgives us of every offense. Your past is just that. It is past. You are forgiven, and in God’s Book it is gone. You do understand and believe that, am I right?”

  At Bess’s nod, he continued. “Did you cause Anita’s death?”

  “No.”

  “When Anita was living, did you wish you were married to Robert? Did you wish it was you carrying Robert’s child? Did you ever feel that Anita was in the way of you getting what you wanted?”

  Bess blinked, startled. “It never even entered my mind. I loved Anita with my whole heart, and I felt she had been cheated to be bedridden. Her heart was so very pure and good. I don’t know why she had to be ill. I was very happy when she told me she would have a child. I felt it was the least God could do for her. I know that’s not really right to think that way, but it is truly how I felt sometimes. Then she died. And with her, the child. It’s truly the worst sorrow I have known.”

  The tears splashed down her cheeks. She whispered, “Sometimes I feel as though I am carrying Anita’s child, not mine. Pastor, I know the right way to think and feel. I don’t know where these guilt feelings are coming from.”

  “They may actually be coming from Satan. Let me show you something here in Philippians.” Pastor Lewis reached for his Bible and quickly turned the pages to the fourth chapter of Philippians. “Sometimes, we have to overcome our feelings with discipline. Here, in verses 6 and 7, we are commanded:

  ‘Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.’”

  He set the Bible on the table. “Do you see, Bess? God doesn’t want us to worry and carry guilt. It’s wrong. Instead, we should take these things to Him in prayer and leave them there. If you do that, He has promised He will give you peace. He goes on in the next verse to say:

  ‘Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.’”

  His eyes entreated her. “Do you understand, Bess? It’s a discipline. It is not just a gift. We must master our minds and not allow those feelings of guilt and self-blame to win in our hearts. It is the way Satan trips us up and makes us useless to the kingdom.

  “From what you have told me, you have done nothing whatsoever for which you should be feeling guilty. I believe it is Satan’s way to rob you of the peace God wants to add to all the other gifts with which He has blessed you. He must trust you a lot, Bess, to have given you a loving husband and four children to care for, plus another little one on the way. Very few women are entrusted with so much.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, “I know I am truly blessed. Perhaps that is part of the guilt. I have done nothing to deserve such happiness. In fact, I deserve nothing at all.”

  Pastor Lewis smiled. “If you deserved the gifts God has given to you, they would not be gifts. They would be payment. Bess, none of us deserves the good that God chooses to bestow on us. But have you ever given someone a gift, and then have them hand it back to you, saying that they don’t deserve it? How would that make you feel? Do you think that may be what you are doing to God now? All He wants is for you to accept His good gifts and say thank You. He doesn’t want you to try to pay Him.”

  Bess closed her eyes and nodded slowly. “You’re right. That is what I am doing. I am rejecting His gifts to me because I do not feel worthy. And if I was worthy, they would not be gifts. They would be payment. Oh, my.” Bess’s head bowed as the realization dawned in her heart.

  There was silence in the room as that realization took root.

  Then Pastor Lewis began praying the very things that were in Bess’s heart. “Oh, Lord, our loving God, please hear the cry of Bess’s heart as she accepts Your good gifts—gifts she does not deserve, as none of us deserve Your amazing goodness to us. Fill her once again with Your joy, I pray.”

  As Bess and Robert prepared to leave the Lewis home, Marita asked her quietly if Clara knew yet about the coming child.

  “Not yet, but I plan to tell her today. This morning I felt the little one kicking, and suddenly it feels real. I know Clara will be happy to be a grandma.”

  Marita smiled and hugged Bess. “This is really good news for us all. And I think you might want to tell Rebecca soon as well.”

  “I thought about that, but I feel so bad for her that I wasn’t sure how to tell her.”

  Marita’s eyes glistened merrily. “Oh, I think she’ll be happy for you and glad that you told her. I encourage you to tell her today also.”

  Bess searched M
arita’s face. “Yes, we are going to stop in for some supplies. I will talk to her.” She was puzzled by Marita’s insistence but knew the telling would not get easier by procrastination.

  It was nearly noon by the time Robert and Bess knocked on the front door of Clara’s Place. Bess didn’t wait for someone to come to the door but pushed the door open and started back through the hallway to the kitchen.

  Rose was slicing bread that had just come from the oven, and Clara was leaning over a kettle on the stove as she lifted the lid to peer inside. When she saw them, she quickly dropped the lid back into place.

  “To what do we owe this honor?” She came over and hugged Bess while Robert smiled his greeting before walking to the little table under the windows and pulling out a chair.

  “We wanted to talk to you a bit if you have time.” Bess looked at Clara and then past her at Rose. “Rose can be included in this chat if she wishes. How about if I help you feed the boarders first and then we can chat when you have a few minutes to sit down. Would that be all right?”

  “That would be great!”

  Rose handed Robert the heel from the loaf she was cutting and pushed a plate of butter toward him with the tip of the knife. “We’ll be back shortly.”

  When all the boarders were served, Clara dished up bowls of soup for the four of them while Rose brought another loaf of bread to their table. After the blessing, they all looked expectantly at Bess, who blushed beautifully and said, “We just wanted to let Clara know that she will be a grandma in the spring.” She took a bite of the soup while Clara’s spoon froze in midair.

  Rose’s eyes were wide and smiling, but Clara just stared at Bess in disbelief. “Grandma? Are you…oh, Bess! Really?” She looked first at Bess and then at Robert’s smiling face. “It’s true, isn’t it? You are going to have a baby?”

  Clara was so excited that she hardly took a bite for the rest of the meal. She asked lots of questions, and Bess answered to the best of her ability, while Robert ate silently between grinning at the women’s animated talk. Finally they left to pick up the things they needed from the store before heading back out to the farm.

  But at Taylors’, Bess was the one to receive the surprise. Rebecca had taken her back to the kitchen to chat. Bess had no more told her news than Rebecca said glowingly, “Me, too!”

  “You, too?” It took a moment to register, and then Bess beamed. “Rebecca! You are expecting a child also?”

  “Yes, finally! I thought it wouldn’t happen to me at my age. I’m almost forty now, but it’s very real. We figure this one will arrive sometime in June. My dresses are already so snug I was afraid you had already noticed.”

  “Rebecca, that’s such good news! We are guessing that our little one will arrive sometime in May. They will grow to be great friends. I am so happy for you.”

  “And I for you!” Rebecca hugged Bess tightly.

  Bess couldn’t help but marvel at God’s amazing goodness.

  Chapter 24

  February was soon replaced by a cold, blustery March. The snows continued, but the frozen crystal snowflakes were exchanged for heavy ones. The days seemed grayer and longer than any March days Bess could remember.

  She had taken some buckets of good earth to the cellar in the fall, and now she spread it into small containers and placed them in the kitchen’s sunny south windows, tucking little tomato and green pepper seeds into the soil. The smell of warm, moist earth filled her with impatience for the winter to end and spring to bring new life once again to the frozen world around her.

  She also felt herself getting impatient for the new life growing inside her. Two more months seemed like such a long time to wait. But Robert tried to calm her impatience with reminders that all good things were worth waiting for. She had heard that expectant mothers suffered from fluctuating emotions, but she could not have imagined how true it was.

  In the long March evenings, she knitted. She made soft blankets and warm sweaters and booties and hats. She stitched gowns and hemmed diapers.

  One day, while the children were in school and Robert was in the barn, she ventured to the attic to see if there was something there in which she could store the baby’s clothes. She remembered Anita telling her that the attic stored lots of the furniture that had been in the house when Robert’s parents had lived here raising their family. They had planned to go to the attic together some time, but that time had never arrived. Now Bess ventured into the elevated ramparts alone.

  Carrying a lamp with her, Bess pushed open the door at the back of the upstairs hallway, entered the stairwell to the attic, and started to climb the narrow steps. She was only halfway up the stairs when she noticed the smell of dust and age. For some reason that aroma enhanced her feelings of mystery. Eagerly, she climbed on.

  At the top of the stairs, she paused to catch her breath. This little one seemed to press into the space her lungs were used to inhabiting, and there no longer seemed room enough for a full breath. Breathing heavily, she brushed the cobwebs and dust from an ancient velvet-covered chair and sat down. Leaning her head against the back of the chair, she held the lamp high and gazed around the attic.

  There were several small tables, a hodgepodge of wooden chairs, and several trunks. Stacks of leather-covered books were piled in some kind of order on a velvet rug, and cushions were arranged as though someone had come up here to read.

  Wooden crates were stacked along one side of the wall, along with vases and pictures. She saw several rolled carpets under the eaves on one side. Dresses were draped on an old overstuffed chair as though someone had just taken them off. Lamps swung from the rafters in several of the gables, hanging there as if waiting patiently for flame.

  Getting clumsily to her feet, she walked over to the nearest lamp and swung it a bit. Of course any fuel would have evaporated long ago, but otherwise the wick looked good and ready to light. She must bring some lamp oil up and explore someday.

  She found a cupboard, as well as a nice chest of drawers, in one corner beside some piece covered by an old quilt. Bess lifted a corner of the quilt and discovered a large, beautifully made hanging cradle. How lovely! She hoped she would be able to use that for this baby. Behind the cradle, almost as though it were trying to hide beneath the eaves, was a cradle on rockers. That would be nice to keep by the stove for use during the day, and the other cradle could reside in the bedroom where the baby would be close as they slept.

  As she lifted the cover from the rocking cradle, she saw a stack of what looked like fabrics. She pushed and shoved the large hanging cradle out of the way so she could touch what was there. When she could reach them, she took the stack out and carried it back to the chair she had used earlier. She set the lamp on a table and sat down with the stack of fabric in her lap.

  One by one she unfolded beautiful baby quilts. The one on top of the stack was a mix of blues and greens. The stitching was beautiful, and on a larger square in the center was the name Paul Robert Sheldon. Anita must have made this blanket for Paul. Hastily she opened the next one, and on the center square was stitched the name Conner Eugene Sheldon. As she expected, the next one spelled out Philip Edward Sheldon, and the fourth quilt said Anna Elizabeth Sheldon. But there was still one quilt in her lap. Wondering, Bess opened the quilt and was amazed to see the name Lily stitched there. The y was not quite finished, and that was all that was on the quilt. The needle was stuck into the fabric as though the seamstress had just laid the piece aside for the moment.

  Bess sat looking at the quilt, completely puzzled. She knew Anita was expecting a child when she had taken ill before her death. But Bess had been with her daily and had never seen her working on a quilt. Nor had she ever mentioned a quilt. She had confided in Bess that she hoped to name the child Lily Bess if it was a girl, but would she have made a quilt with the name Lily, not yet knowing if she carried a girl or a boy?

  Bess continued to puzzle over the quilt. It was beautifully made, but obviously not quite finished and never used. When
did Anita make the quilt? Why did she not finish it? Was this something she could ask Robert? Her mind rolled one question after another around, but she found no answers. Finally Bess carefully refolded the blankets, laid them back in the cradle, and pulled the cover over to discourage the dust.

  Turning back to the chest, Bess opened the drawers one by one. They were filled with lovely handmade baby clothes, with delicate embroidery and dainty stitches. Many looked like they had never been used. What did it mean? Was there a secret here that she should not have discovered? Well, she had indeed stumbled onto a mystery of some kind and would ask Robert when he came in for lunch.

  She gasped. Lunch. Oh, my! She wondered what time it was. She snatched the lamp and carefully found her way back down the steep stairway. Closing the door behind her, she extinguished the lamp and set it on the hall table, then brushed the dust and cobwebs from her hair and clothes. She must hasten to have Robert’s lunch ready by the time he came in from the barns.

  She was pouring milk into their glasses when she heard Robert outside the kitchen door stomping the snow from his feet. She gathered the food to the table as he washed in the basin by the door.

  Robert was dipping food onto his plate when she began. “Robert, I was in the attic today looking to see if there was something we could keep the baby clothes in.”

  “Those stairs are pretty steep, Bess. Be careful—since you can no longer see your feet!” The merry twinkle in his eyes made her laugh more than the comment did.

  “You’d better not insult the cook. You never know what she might put in your food!”

  They chuckled together briefly, but Bess wasn’t to be deterred. “There is a nice chest of drawers up there. Could we move it down to our bedroom to store the baby’s clothes?”

  “Sure we could. Are you wanting to do that already? Don’t we still have a couple of months?”