by Lori Wick
“Emotionally. I want to cry all the time.”
Alison had to laugh.
“What did I miss?” Reese asked, smiling at the other woman’s reaction.
“I’m laughing at myself,” Alison admitted. “I cried for three months with Hillary and probably six months with Marty.”
Reese laughed and sighed with relief all at the same time. Alison, still chuckling a little, had a question for her.
“Have you ever heard emotions compared to a train, Reese?”
“I don’t think I have.”
“I’ve heard it said that feelings make a wonderful caboose but a terrible engine.”
Reese smiled.
“You get it, don’t you?”
“I do get it. Even if I’m teary, I can’t let my feelings pull me around.”
“At the same time, Reese, tears are not all bad. Maybe your body just needs to cry right now. You might be experiencing some emotional changes because of the baby, but if you’re still remembering God’s truth about Himself and who you are because of Him, you’ll do fine. If you’re controlling your mind enough to praise God even when you want to sob, I call that a victory in Christ.”
“Thanks, Alison,” Reese said as she moved to stand.
“May I check on you again?” Alison asked in genuine concern.
“I hope you do.”
Thanking Alison and hugging her goodbye, Reese headed home, wondering at the fact that she felt better for having talked. She walked down the green, fairly certain she’d stumbled onto the answer: telling Conner how she felt and listening to women who had walked ahead of her in the path.
Five
Cathy woke earlier than usual Wednesday morning. It had not been the best of nights, but she still smiled. She was in her own bed, in her own house, and the familiar sounds and smells were the most comforting thing she’d known in a long time. She would miss her time with Maddie and especially the baby, but even with the short time she’d been away, it was completely wonderful to be home.
She knew she was going to have to move slowly, and that included the extra cleaning she wanted to do since Doyle had been living on his own. He hadn’t spent a lot of time washing dishes or picking up behind himself, but he’d threatened to cart her back to the farm if she overdid.
“You awake over there?” Doyle suddenly asked, his back to her.
“Um hm,” she answered, doing nothing to disguise the smile in her voice.
“I don’t smell my breakfast on the stove,” Doyle teased. “You’d better get up and get to work.”
“And find myself back at the farm? No, sir. I’m going to become a lady of leisure.”
Doyle rolled over and looked at her.
“Is that right?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Well, one of us has to make a living around here, so I cannot join you.”
“Your loss,” Cathy said with a cheeky smile before Doyle leaned to kiss her.
And she almost pulled it off. Doyle had to help her dress, and she only assisted him with breakfast, not able to do much with her arm still in a splint. In fact, she managed to keep rather still until she spotted the dust that had gathered on the furniture in the parlor. Not until she felt a sharp pain radiate up her arm as she reached to dust the clock that hung over the mantle, did she remember she could not carry on in her usual method. She did very little, and only with her good arm, until Doyle came for dinner, a meal that Maddie had sent with them the day before. Cathy’s arm had stopped throbbing by the end of the meal. She didn’t think she’d done any real damage, but even at that, she didn’t mention her foolishness to her husband.
Dannan picked up his mail Friday in the late afternoon. He’d just been to see a woman with a toothache and was on his way back through town. He recognized his father’s handwriting immediately, but it took some time for him to realize that something was wrong. The letter had come from Willows Crossing. Seated in the buggy, his horse half asleep, Dannan opened the letter and read. Later he would be thankful that his father had not beat about the bush, but at the moment shock filled him.
Dear Dannan,
Grant and Annie are dead. A flu epidemic swept through Willows Crossing, along with Carson Gap and Headley. Corina was taken to the outskirts of town and is still there. She is fine. Jonas and I are here and will wait your arrival. Come as soon as you can. We may not be able to hold the burial, but there is much to be decided.
Love,
Father
Reading the words over again didn’t help. It was still there. His father was still telling him that his cousin was dead. Their family was already so small. Grant was more like a brother than a cousin, and Annie had been the sister he’d never had. And Corina.
Dannan’s mind stopped. His heart couldn’t take it in. The horse shifted against the reins, and the buggy moved. Dannan looked at the animal just before someone walked past and greeted him. Dannan responded automatically, his hand going in the air.
Not until this happened was Dannan able to focus on anything. His eyes caught sight of the bank, and without any more thought, he climbed from the buggy and started that way. He had no idea what he was going to say. He just wanted to see Conner and Troy.
Only Conner was present. Walking past the teller’s counter, Dannan headed toward the desk that sat in the alcove of the bank, Conner coming to his feet as he approached.
“Sit down, Dannan,” Conner ordered without preamble, reading something terrible in the other man’s ashen face.
Dannan felt Conner’s hand on his arm and the chair beneath him, but nothing else.
“Tell me what’s happened,” Conner said.
Dannan held the letter out, wishing he could find words. He didn’t even look at Conner as he read. His mind could only manage the fact that his cousin would never see this place. He had planned to invite them. He had pictured them visiting and touring all around the town he’d claimed for his own.
“What plans have you made?” was Conner’s next question.
Dannan looked at him.
“Dannan?” Conner tried again. “How will you get to Willows Crossing?”
“I think on the train.”
“It’s been and gone. There won’t be another until Monday.”
Dannan only stared incomprehensibly at him, and Conner saw that this was not going to work, at least not in the bank building. He went to the counter to have a brief word with Mr. Leffler. When he came back to Dannan’s side, it was to take that man from the bank and lead him to the big house. Dannan went without complaint or question.
Conner had asked Mr. Leffler to send Troy to him as soon as he arrived back. Conner hoped it would be soon.
“Trains run more often from Worcester. We’ll put him in a coach for there and get him on the next train for Willows Crossing.”
“Who will you have drive the coach?” Reese asked, having sneaked a quick peek at Dannan, who sat motionless in the front parlor.
“I’ll ask Eli if he can spare Ollie Heber for a few days,” Conner said, referring to the man who performed odd jobs for the Peterson household. “I’ve already sent word to him.”
This was no more out of Conner’s mouth than someone knocked on the front door. It was Scottie.
“Is Dannan here?” she asked.
“Yes, Scottie. Come in,” Reese invited. “In the parlor.”
“Scottie,” Conner’s voice stopped her before she could go very far. “Is this about Ollie?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me. I’ve had to make plans. Dannan’s not thinking very clearly right now. He won’t even know what you’re talking about.”
Scottie nodded. “Eli’s just spoken to Ollie, and he says he can leave at any time.”
“All right.”
“Eli asked me to tell Dannan we’ll see to the house.”
When Conner nodded, Scottie entered the parlor. Dannan sat so he could see out the window, but Scottie wasn’t sure he noticed much.
“Dan
nan,” she called and was surprised to see him startle. He stood but didn’t speak.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you. We got word about your cousin. I’m sorry. Eli wanted you to know that we’ll take care of the house while you’re away. Don’t give it a thought.”
“Thank you.”
“And this is for your trip,” Scottie added, holding out the basket she’d been tightly clutching in one hand. “A few baked goods from Iris.”
“Thank you,” Dannan said again, his heart so apathetic that all of this felt like an illusion.
“We’ve made plans for you, Dannan,” Conner put in, seeing a tiny bit of life in the young doctor’s eyes. “We have a coach and a man who will take you to Worcester. You can catch a train to Willows Crossing from there. If something should go wrong, the coachman will take you all the way to Willows Crossing.”
Dannan’s thanks was automatic and uttered without a trace of expression. Wanting to sit down, Dannan glanced at the sofa and noticed Scottie heading that way. He took the other end and looked at her. The Kingsleys were surprised as well and took chairs in order to watch.
“Was your cousin an older man?” Scottie asked, her voice and face kind but also matter-of-fact.
“No, he wasn’t. Just a year older than me.”
“With a family?”
“A wife and a little girl.”
“I’m so sorry, Dannan. How awful for you.”
Dannan nodded.
“Had you seen him lately?”
“Not since moving here.”
“What will happen to his wife and child? Is there family nearby?”
“His wife died with him. I don’t know right now what will happen to their daughter.”
“How old is she?”
“She just turned three.”
Scottie’s hand went to her mouth, and tears filled her eyes.
“Did they share your faith, Dannan?” she whispered. “Did they know the Way?”
“Yes,” he answered, his voice catching a little.
Scottie’s glance went out the window, and Dannan watched a tear slide down her cheek.
“I’m glad,” she said when she could speak. “I’m glad you have that to give you comfort, and one day their little girl will be old enough to be comforted by that as well.”
Reese had all she could do to keep her mouth from swinging open. When Dannan had been so stunned, she had left him to himself, but Scottie’s combination of compassion and boldness seemed to give Dannan just the outlet he needed.
“By her second birthday she was reciting dozens of Bible verses.”
“Dozens?” Scottie repeated. “That’s wonderful.”
“She’s very bright, and Annie worked with her on some passage every day.”
Scottie didn’t ask who Annie was. She knew it was the child’s mother. She stayed quiet, and Dannan added a bit more.
“I can’t think about her being so little and not understanding where they are.” After putting words to some of his grief, Dannan’s shoulders seemed weighted. “I should have been there. I’m sure I could have done something.”
“Don’t forget how much you learned from Dr. Collier,” Conner reminded Dannan. “He must have done all he could.”
At the moment Dannan didn’t remember telling Conner about learning alongside Dr. Collier, but he was right. That older doctor knew more than he ever would. Dannan was on the verge of saying this when someone else knocked at the door. Conner went to answer it and returned with Ollie, Troy in his wake.
“I’m ready to leave anytime,” Ollie said.
Dannan looked at this man and realized he’d seen him around town. He was not very old, early forties maybe, but he had a weather-beaten look about him that spoke of wisdom and keenness. Dannan had the impression that if needed, he could put his life in the man’s hands.
“I left my horse and buggy at the store,” Dannan suddenly recalled.
“Doyle took care of them for you,” Scottie filled in.
Dannan stood. “I need to gather some things from home.”
“I’ll meet you there with the coach,” Ollie said, slipping away.
Dannan didn’t linger. He thanked Conner and Reese and then Troy. He nearly left before remembering Scottie. He turned to find her standing. She smiled when their eyes met.
“I’ll pray for you, Dannan.”
Dannan nodded and went on his way. He knew the numbness was complete. He hadn’t felt a thing when Scottie Peterson smiled at him.
By the time Dannan sat aboard the train, his ride to Willows Crossing was little more than a few hours up the tracks. He hadn’t been able to get the train at Worcester, and Ollie had been forced to take him on to Cherry Corners.
He hadn’t let himself think while riding with Ollie, and that man had had enough to say to keep his mind occupied, but now he was alone with his thoughts. He knew he was tired enough to sleep, but fear that he would drop off hard and miss his stop kept his eyes open, no easy task since it was dark and the train moved slower than usual. He kept his head up, even when it bobbed with fatigue, and tried to pray.
Thoughts of Grant MacKay filled him. Grant’s father had died when Grant was a young teen. He had lived with his mother but also spent untold hours with Dannan and his parents. And when Dannan’s parents had made the decision to move south, the two young men stayed in Willows Crossing, even finding a place of their own to live. It had been the right decision. The church family had kept a close watch on them, and they’d both done a lot of growing up in those years. And to top it off, Annie had come into Grant’s life.
A rumble on the tracks momentarily diverted Dannan’s thoughts. He glanced around the dark, semifull train car. He could make out the shapes of the other passengers but not their faces. One minute he was looking around, and the next he was jolted awake as the train pulled into the station. Dannan’s heart thundered over the fact that he could have overslept his stop. It thundered again when he realized he was back in Willows Crossing.
Tucker Mills
“You’re up early,” Alison said to Douglas when she came downstairs Sunday morning and found him in the kitchen.
“I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”
Alison put coffee on before joining him at the table. “Are you thinking about Dannan?”
“Almost constantly.”
“Will you talk about it with the congregation?”
“I think we’ll take some time for prayer, and if that goes long, I can adjust my sermon.” He paused before adding, “I can’t get that three-year-old off my mind.”
Alison’s heart was just as heavy, and both sat wondering whether Dannan would do more than return to Tucker Mills, gather his belongings, and head back to Willows Crossing, where he might be needed more.
Willows Crossing
Dannan was in the kitchen, a mug of hot coffee in front of him, when his uncle found him. Doc MacKay poured his own coffee before taking the chair by the fireplace.
“Did you sleep?” Doc asked.
“A little, I think. You?”
“Fairly well.”
Both men were silent for a time. The funeral had been the day before. Dannan had arrived late to the house, after midnight, and Saturday had been full of the viewing, burial, and meal the women of the church family had prepared and served at the parsonage.
Dannan still couldn’t believe he was in Grant and Annie’s house. Even with Corina sound asleep upstairs, their absence was conspicuous. Annie’s housekeeping had been excellent, but since they’d been so ill before they died, it looked as though nothing had been put to rights for weeks.
“I thought I heard you,” Jathan MacKay, Dannan’s father, spoke as he entered the room. He passed by the coffee and sat opposite Dannan at the kitchen worktable.
“I’ve been thinking since yesterday morning,” his father wasted no time in saying. “I can’t get over Corina’s reaction to you. I was all ready to take her, Dannan. She’s like a granddaughter to me, and I figu
red your mother and I could make it work.
“I mean, I knew, Dannan,” Jathan rushed on, “I knew you were very close to Grant and Annie, but I didn’t know how close. Corina got out of bed yesterday morning, found you at this table, and clung to you. She clung to you for an hour. Her little world had been turned upside down, and you’d made it right again.”
“Get to the point, Jathan,” Doc MacKay finally put in.
“You’ve got to take her, Dannan,” his father said with tears in his eyes. “I know it won’t be easy being single and balancing your work, but whatever savings Grant and Annie had will go to Corina, and that includes her care. You take her. Make her your own. Make her forget how hurt she is now.”
Dannan shook his head a little. The thought was not abhorrent to him at all, but the words had come tumbling out of his father’s mouth so swiftly, and he was low on sleep. He looked to his uncle to find that man in calm agreement. It was written all over him.
“You talked about this before I came?” Dannan asked.
“Actually not,” Doc MacKay answered. “But it’s like Jath said—we hadn’t seen her with you. Young as she is, she would adjust to living with the three of us in North Carolina, but why add more trauma than she’s already experienced?”
“Now, Dannan,” his father continued. “We hate the thought of trying to talk you into this. We want to hear what you have to say. If you don’t like the idea, you must say so.”
“I don’t like the idea of Grant and Annie being gone. About the only thing that makes that bearable is having Corina, but that doesn’t change the immensity of the undertaking. As you mentioned, I am single.”
Jathan had thought there would be more resistance. He’d half-expected to have to talk his son into the idea. When that didn’t happen, some of the wind went out of his sails. He glanced at his brother and saw that he had expected the same thing.
“What can we do for you?” Doc MacKay asked. “Maybe I should return to Tucker Mills for a time. Help you settle in.”
