The other man’s words shamed him. Not because they were meant to, but because Luke realized what a disservice he was doing to his family and friends by not acknowledging the good moments he’d had with them. His happiness hadn’t been all about Diana, even though with her gone, it sometimes felt that way.
“I suppose I’m not being fair in saying that nothing is good without Diana.”
A twinge of guilt hit him as he realized the words he’d spoken to Nellie. What a terrible man she must think him, given that he’d basically discounted every wonderful thing she’d done for him.
He’d been trying so hard to at least build a friendship with her, to see if there could be something more, and yet, every time Nellie let down some of her defenses, he’d been the one to throw up insurmountable walls. The problem in his marriage wasn’t Nellie—it was him.
Pastor Lassiter came around and clapped him on the back. “You’re human. And the truth is, I had my own bitter moments after losing Catherine. Some days, I would pray that God would find it in His heart to take me so I could be with her. I hid my grief because I thought I had to be strong for Annabelle, whose bitterness was apparent to all. But the Lord knew, and over time, he brought new family into my life that I never imagined.”
A softness came upon the pastor as he smiled. “Some days, I still wake up and feel the empty place in the bed next to me, and I miss Catherine terribly. There are times when I still wish I could turn to her and ask her advice. But I live in the hope of Christ that I will see her again.”
Luke could relate to the pain of missing his wife in those same moments. And in many more. As for seeing her again, Luke shook his head. He’d turned his back on God so many times, he no longer had that same hope.
“And for those of us who are not as good as you?”
“It’s not about being good,” Pastor Lassiter said softly. “None of us would qualify if that were the case. Instead, the Lord asks us to look to Him and do our best to follow Him. He knows we stumble, and that’s why He is there to pick us up.”
As Luke nodded slowly, he noticed Nellie and Myrna coming toward him. Myrna had her arm around his wife, and Luke was struck by the deep bond between the two women. Though he’d often tried highlighting the differences between Nellie and Diana, watching Nellie now, he realized that he’d chosen two very similar women as brides. Diana had also deeply loved those around her and had been loved in return. Nellie was the same.
But could he let Nellie love him? Could he bear to love Nellie? No, bear wasn’t the right word. Loving someone wasn’t a chore. Yet something inside him fought the notion harder than he’d fought anything else.
“Nellie told me what happened,” Myrna said when the women reached him. She looked at Luke with so much love and sympathy, Luke didn’t know what to do. “I cannot imagine how you must be feeling. I know how angry you are at Diana’s death. But if I may, I would like to say that is who Diana was. She was the kind of person who would lay down her life for her friends, and she would not be the woman we loved if she stood by and watched someone she cared about suffer. I know it doesn’t take away the pain of your loss. But I can’t imagine the heartache Diana would be feeling if the situation had been reversed.”
Luke wanted to be angry at Myrna’s words, at trying to justify the fact that Diana had died while Ellen had lived. Only... Myrna was right. If Diana had lived and Ellen had died, Diana would be filled with unspeakable guilt. Because she tried so hard to make everyone else happy, Diana would have seen Ellen’s death as a failure on her part.
“Thank you,” Luke said quietly. “I know you are all trying to help, and I appreciate that. But you all want me to let go of my grief as though it were as simple as putting down a package. It isn’t.”
Pastor Lassiter returned to Luke’s side and put his arm around him. “I know it’s not. But you also can’t bury yourself and use the loss of your wife as an excuse to avoid living.”
Had Luke been avoiding living? It didn’t seem like it. He went to work, made sure his children had what they needed and took care of things around the house. But as he looked around at the concerned expressions of his friends, he had to wonder if he wasn’t seeing his actions clearly.
Sympathy shone in Nellie’s eyes, and once again, Luke felt ashamed at how he’d been treating her. Despite his promises of friendship, even his own personal commitment to giving her a chance, he hadn’t. The distance between them was greater than ever, and as much as he hated to admit it, he’d been using his grief as an excuse.
“What am I supposed to do now?” Luke asked. “I can’t forget about Diana. I can’t pretend that I don’t feel what I feel.”
The pastor gave Luke a squeeze. “You have every right to your feelings. But ask yourself—what would Diana have wanted for her family in her absence? Would she have wanted you to stop going to church? To ignore her favorite holiday? Your family is participating in our Christmas program, and Seamus tells me you aren’t even going. How would Diana feel about those decisions?”
Though Luke expected there to be judgment in the pastor’s eyes, there was only kindness and love. “Before you tell me I have no right to ask those questions, I want you to know that answering those questions is the only thing that got me through the first few months of being without Catherine. The days I could hardly get out of bed, I was always roused by imagining the disapproving way my wife would have looked at me for my foolishness. Catherine died, and I lived, and the only way I know how to honor her is to continue living in the manner she’d want me to. To carry on her legacy of love.”
Diana wouldn’t have wanted Luke to miss out on Christmas. She wouldn’t have wanted him to be so stubborn in ignoring Amos’s pleas for decorations, including mistletoe. And though she wouldn’t have been excited at the idea of Luke with another woman, she wouldn’t have been happy about how he was treating Nellie. Had Diana lived and Nellie come to Leadville some other way, they probably would have been friends.
Luke stepped out of the pastor’s embrace and turned to Nellie. “I suppose we should get the children and take them to find a Christmas tree.”
Chapter Eleven
Nellie couldn’t stop smiling as the children pelted each other with snowballs. The pastor had offered to take the family in his wagon to a place nearby where a resourceful rancher had turned his frozen pond into an ice-skating rink, and people could take advantage of the plentiful trees on his property to find their own Christmas tree.
Since it was so cold in Leadville in winter, especially today, where the icy wind promised to bring snow in the coming days, they’d decided to go in search of their tree first. That way, when the children were tired and cold from ice-skating, they could go home rather than trudge through the snow to get their tree.
With Christmas just over a week away, and the weather so unpredictable, it was best to get their tree now, rather than wait and potentially not have one.
“What do you think of this one?” Luke pointed to a nearby tree. The children dropped their snowballs and ran toward him. Nellie cuddled Maeve closer to her, grateful for the additional warmth of her little body.
“Down!” Maeve tugged at Nellie. Unfortunately, the little girl didn’t stay cooped up for long, always wanting to be running around with the others. But she’d soon grow tired again and want Nellie to pick her back up.
Nellie set the little girl down, and Maeve tried running through the snow, but she quickly slipped and fell into a snowbank. When Nellie went to pick the little girl up, Maeve was laughing, which made Nellie’s smile widen.
They reached the tree Luke indicated, and Nellie shook her head. “It’s much too big. It will scarcely leave room for all of us in the house.”
“We like them big,” Luke said, a catch in his voice.
Nellie looked to the children. “I think we should go smaller. What do you all think?”
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Amos grinned. “The bigger, the better! I want that one!”
He pointed to a tree so tall it wouldn’t fit in a grand mansion, let alone their house.
“That’s definitely too big,” Nellie said, laughing.
Ruby pointed to a small tree, scraggly and unkempt, so odd looking that it could almost be considered a shrub. “What about that one? It looks like it could use a good home.”
In their stove, maybe. Nellie couldn’t see anything festive about this particular tree. But something shining in Ruby’s eyes made Nellie hesitate.
“What do you like about that tree?” she asked instead.
“I don’t like big trees,” Ruby said. “The big trees our mother picked out made such a mess. This one would fit nicely in the sitting room.”
Though her words weren’t a grand proclamation of anything, they were a sign that Ruby was starting to let go of the crippling grief she’d clung to.
Luke turned to them. “You didn’t like the big trees?”
“No. They took up too much room, and we couldn’t play. Mama would get mad at us for being in the way, but we didn’t have anywhere to go. Nellie said we get to remember our mother in the traditions that we love, but we also get to make our own traditions. And I think we should make the tradition of getting the tree we like the best, rather than finding the biggest one.”
Something in Luke’s expression changed, though he still didn’t look like he was entirely happy. Amos also joined them, nodding thoughtfully.
“I like that idea,” Amos said. “But can we still have mistletoe? It’s what I love best about Christmas.”
Ruby smiled at her little brother. “I like mistletoe, too.”
Amos ran to his sister and wrapped his arms around her, nearly knocking her over. “Nellie said we could only get mistletoe if you and Papa agree, so now we just have to convince Papa!”
There was something especially charming in the affection Amos so freely gave Ruby, particularly because when Nellie had first come into their home, the siblings weren’t as warmly disposed toward one another. Amos had resented Ruby’s bossiness, and now, just as Luke had hoped, the siblings were getting along much better.
Nellie stole a glance at Luke. Did he realize the significance of this interaction? He’d been staring at the tree so intently, Nellie wasn’t sure what he’d seen or heard, or even if he was paying attention at all.
Amos let go of his sister and ran to his father. “Can we have mistletoe, Papa? Please?”
The action seemed to jolt Luke out of his thoughts. He looked down at his son. “Mistletoe? Why are you so insistent on mistletoe?”
“Because!” A wide grin split Amos’s face. “Everyone kisses and hugs, and they’re all happy. We need more happiness in our house. And maybe if Nellie kisses you, then you would be happy, too.”
“Nellie can’t kiss Papa!” Ruby declared, shaking her head furiously. “It’s not right.”
A lump formed in Nellie’s throat. Apparently, there were limits to the changes Ruby would approve of. Even Luke looked stricken at the thought.
But they had almost kissed. Or so Nellie thought. And Ruby had seen it, as well. Would Nellie and Luke ever kiss? Sometimes Nellie hoped so. But then she thought about how it would just be a physical gesture to Luke, whereas if Nellie kissed him, she’d be doing it with all her heart. It was a difference that would absolutely destroy her.
Still, they couldn’t let the fear of what a kiss meant prevent the family from keeping a cherished tradition.
Nellie walked over to Luke. “There’s nothing wrong with people who care about one another showing it with a kiss.” To prove her point, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed Luke on the cheek. Then she turned toward the children. “You see? There’s nothing terrible about my kissing your father. Now each of you come here so I can give you one.”
Amos ran to her, arms outstretched. Nellie bent and picked him up, despite the fact that he was almost too big to be carried, and she held him tight and gave him a big kiss. “I love you, Amos,” she said.
“I love you, too.” He rested his head on her shoulder, and though Nellie would have liked to enjoy the moment a bit longer, Maeve had wrapped her arms around Nellie’s legs and was shouting, “Me!”
As Nellie put Amos down and took Maeve into her arms, she stole a glance at Luke. He looked bewildered, but not upset. She probably shouldn’t have surprised him with the kiss, but she was tired of everyone making such a big deal over physical affection when it was Nellie’s heart that was breaking, not theirs.
Ruby looked at Nellie, uncertainty filling her face. She’d never hugged or kissed Nellie, nor had she ever told her anything remotely close to “I love you.” Nellie didn’t want to push the girl any harder than she’d already pushed. They’d gained too much ground already for it to be lost on something that would come in time.
Nellie smiled at Ruby. “Would you like one?”
She hesitated, and Nellie knew that Ruby still fought the battle consuming Luke. Part of her missed the deep affection the family had once shared. But she was afraid that it would be a betrayal to her mother’s memory.
“I think your father could use a bigger hug and kiss than I can give. Would you give him one for me?”
Ruby nodded slowly, as though she realized that Nellie was trying to give them all the space they needed. Or maybe it was relief that she wouldn’t be forced to accept or reject Nellie, but would still get the love she needed.
Once again, Nellie’s words seemed to shake Luke out of whatever place he’d gone to. He put his arms around his daughter, then bent to give her a kiss on the forehead. “I love you, Ruby,” he said.
Ruby didn’t say anything back, at least as far as Nellie could tell. But when Luke released her, he pointed to the tree Ruby had selected. “And I think we will get the tree you want.”
When Luke turned to Amos, Nellie was encouraged by his expression. Whatever darkness had overcome him just a few moments ago was gone.
“And we should definitely get mistletoe.”
Amos ran to his father and wrapped his arms around him. “Thank you!”
Luke bent and kissed his son. The family finally seemed whole, or at least as whole as they could be while in mourning.
* * *
Once they’d loaded their tree into Pastor Lassiter’s wagon, Luke watched as Nellie helped the children get into ice skates. Though the pastor had asked Luke to call him by his given name, Frank, it seemed too personal, and Luke wasn’t sure yet if the man was friend or foe.
Keep living as Diana would have wanted.
Easy enough to say, harder to do. Luke had tried following Diana’s tradition with the Christmas tree, but he’d been relieved when Ruby had chosen to change things up.
He still wasn’t sure how to feel about the mistletoe, but he’d told his son yes, and he’d bought a bunch from the rancher before he lost his resolve. Nellie’s demonstration kiss was meant to make him feel better, but it only made him more confused.
He’d liked the touch of her lips against his skin. All warmth, love and kindness. But just as quickly as it had happened, the feeling was gone, and Luke found himself touching his gloved hand to the spot her lips had been, wishing for more.
“She’s wonderful with the children, isn’t she?” Pastor Lassiter asked, stepping beside him.
“Some days, I can’t believe how well things have worked out.”
Luke turned to him. “When I met Nellie, I thought it was something only the Lord could have arranged so perfectly. But then I thought about how He’d taken Diana from me, and I can’t understand how He would be so cruel, then do something so kind. Was it the Lord, or was it coincidence?”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Pastor Lassiter said, shrugging. “It’s not our place to question the motiva
tion or what God is thinking, but to choose to love and follow Him, no matter where it takes us.”
“So even though He took the most wonderful thing in my life, I should be happy about it?”
Pastor Lassiter shook his head. “Not necessarily. Your question makes a lot of assumptions about the Lord, which may or may not be true. I’ve searched for answers about Catherine’s death for a long time, and I don’t believe I will ever get them, not in a way that satisfies me. I’ve learned that I must still trust in the Lord’s goodness, even in those dark moments, because there is so much I am not capable of understanding.”
More words Luke didn’t find comforting. How could he trust in the Lord’s goodness when something so tragic had happened to him?
But as the children’s laughter rang out across the pond, Luke knew that once again, he wasn’t being fair. Could he judge the Lord’s goodness based on one action? Or did he have to look at the sum total of his life? And even if Luke looked at just his life, was that fair, when there were so many people in this world? Could he, a mere man, accurately view a God so much bigger than anything Luke could understand?
“Don’t lose faith, son.” Pastor Lassiter clapped him on the shoulder. “Though things seem dark, you must always look to the light.”
“Papa!” Amos skated across the pond to him. “Join us!”
Though they’d been in Leadville for several years, Luke and Diana had never taken the children skating. Diana hated the cold and preferred indoor activities. This was one more new memory he was making with the children.
“I haven’t been skating since I was a boy,” Luke told his son, smiling. “I’m not sure I remember how.”
Pastor Lassiter gave him another pat. “You’ll remember. Come on, let’s get some skates.”
After only a few small mishaps, Luke found that not only did he remember how to skate, but how much he’d enjoyed it. What a delightful way to bring back good memories and pass them on to his children. He took turns skating with Amos, Ruby and even little Maeve, but Luke noticed that even while Nellie helped the children on the ice, she still wore those ill-fitting boots of hers.
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