Gathering himself, Eli swore up and down that no matter what Aunt Sophie told him, he’d listen, and hopefully his efforts would be enough to make things right with Natalie.
He trudged up the lane and let himself in. “Hello?” he called. No answer came. The television cheered as a contestant spun the wheel. Eli walked quietly into the family room in case she’d fallen asleep in Uncle Liam’s chair, as she was prone to do on weeknights.
His gaze swept the room and found Aunt Sophie on the floor, her arms and legs sprawled out. Eli let out a strangled cry as he dropped to his knees and searched for a pulse. She was still breathing, but so shallowly that he had a hard time seeing her back rise.
Scrambling to find his phone, Eli dialed 911. “She’s on the floor, I don’t dare move her.”
The dispatcher assured him the ambulance would be there momentarily. Thankful that Aunt Sophie lived close to the hospital, he offered a prayer, unsure if he was making any sense through the panic.
“Hang in there,” he whispered close to her ear. “I’m here, Aunt Sophie. I’m here.” The sirens reached him first. “They’re coming to help. Please hang on.” He wiped a drop of water off her cheek, wondering where it came from, and another took its place. Eli reached up and found his face covered in tears. He didn’t know they’d started.
There was a bang as the front door flew open. Aunt Sophie didn’t stir.
“In here!” called Eli, not wanting to leave Aunt Sophie’s side. He glanced up to see Sawyer Hacket and two others in navy jackets and pants. Sawyer was the drummer for the Iron Stix. Eli had played softball with Sawyer for the last five years, and was thankful he still volunteered with the ambulance service and that there was a friendly face in the group.
“How long has she been out?” asked Sawyer as he shouldered Eli aside so he could examine Aunt Sophie.
Eli fell back against the couch, not caring that he cried in front of a bunch of guys he played softball with. “I don’t know. I found her like this. My daughter was here—after school. She was fine then.” Oh dear Lord … please!
Sawyer fingered the flat silver bracelet on Aunt Sophie’s wrist. “Diabetic,” he informed the other two paramedics. On the count of three they turned Aunt Sophie over. There was a large bruise on one side of her face, up near her eye. “Looks like she was out before she hit the floor.”
Aunt Sophie gasped twice, her eyes never opening.
They continued to work over her, inserting an IV and checking for broken bones before getting her onto the stretcher.
“Is she going to be okay?”
“I don’t know.” Sawyer shook his head. “We need to go, now. Are you riding with us?”
Eli scrambled to his feet, following the stretcher as the paramedics muscled the clanking bed out the front door. He wanted to stay with Aunt Sophie, but Natalie needed to be here. He needed Natalie. Aunt Sophie needed Natalie. “We only have one car. I need to pick up Nat.”
“We’ll meet you over there, then.” Sawyer paused at the door. “You’ll want to hurry.”
Eli sprang into action. Making sure the door was shut tight behind him, he bolted to his car and squealed away before the ambulance pulled out. The ride home was a blur of tears and Main Street.
He burst through his own front door screaming, “Natalie! Nat!”
“What?” She and the kids were at the table, a picked-over taco bar laid out in front of them. She took one look at Eli and her hands flew to her mouth. Rising halfway out of her chair, Eli grabbed her and smashed her to his chest.
“Aunt Sophie—she—” Eli shook his head; there wasn’t time. “Car,” he blurted.
Natalie pushed away. “Let’s go.” She grabbed her purse. “Ryan, you’re in charge of cleaning the kitchen. Hailey, you need to help.”
Eli followed Natalie out at a sprint.
“What happened?” Nat asked as she buckled her seatbelt. They were already halfway to the hospital.
Eli gulped and reached for Nat’s hand. “She wasn’t moving. I called … they said something about diabetic shock.” He shook his head, wondering if he was making any sense.
He prayed for Aunt Sophie. He prayed for Natalie. And he added a little prayer that they would be okay and he’d have time to make things up to her.
As they careened around a corner, the hospital came into view. The ambulance was parked in front of the emergency entrance, the back doors gaping open to reveal the empty cavity in the back. Screeching to a stop behind the ambulance, Eli and Natalie bailed out of the car as if the darn thing were on fire.
Rushing through the sliding doors and past the empty receptionist desk, they came up short at the sight of Doctor Taggart sliding a curtain closed, his head hanging low. A sense of empty heaviness filled the space.
Eli and Natalie groped for one another’s hands. Natalie squeezed tight, and Eli held on for dear life. “Please, no,” he whispered.
Natalie pressed her free hand to her mouth and her body jerked with a silent sob.
Doctor Taggart saw them and came over. “I’m so sorry. She didn’t make it.”
Turning away from the news and into Eli, Natalie gripped his shirt in her hands and wept. Her slender shoulders trembled, and her tears were hot against his neck.
The doctor touched his elbow. “I’m here for the night. You can have me paged if you have questions.”
“Thanks,” Eli croaked.
The loss of Aunt Sophie, the kindest and truest friend he’d known—save his bride—ground down on Eli as he stood tall for Natalie, wanting to be the one she leaned on … wanting her to know he would always be there for her … wanting to be the one she turned to … wanting to be her man in every way.
Rubbing little circles on her back, Eli allowed his grief to mix with his wife’s, and he cried. He cried for Aunt Sophie, for losing his job, for trying and failing, for having given up, for all he’d done and for all the things he should have done but didn’t.
Having released his pain, Eli found the fog had thinned and he could think clearly. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Do you want to call Joyce, or do you want me to?”
“I can’t,” Natalie gasped.
“I’ve got it.” Eli dialed the number. “Hi Joyce, this is Eli … Thanks … Listen, Natalie and I are at the hospital. I need you to come … No, Aunt Sophie. She—” He glanced down at Natalie, who buried herself in his chest as if she couldn’t bear to face what had happened. Eli kissed her hair. “She passed away and we need your help … Thanks, we’ll see you soon.”
Eli kissed Natalie again. “She’s on her way.”
“Thank you.”
“I’d do anything for you, Nat. I love you.”
Her arms came around his back, and Eli felt rather than heard her say, “I love you too.”
Chapter 13
Three days later
Natalie knocked softly before opening Hailey’s door. “Morning.”
Hailey pressed herself off the mattress, revealing knotted hair and red eyes. She looked every bit as brokenhearted as Natalie felt.
Aunt Sophie’s death was still a shock. She hadn’t survived the ride to the hospital before her spirit slipped away. Natalie didn’t blame the doctors, the nurses, or the hospital staff. Aunt Sophie had a living will that stipulated she not be placed on life support. Her passing was as she would have wanted: they said she’d passed out and not felt a thing.
Each morning upon awakening, Natalie found that the world had an Aunt Sophie-sized hole, and there was no peg that could fill that gap and make things better.
St. Patrick’s Day came and went in a flurry of funeral preparations. Aunt Sophie had prepaid for her casket and burial plot; she’d even picked the hymns and who would speak at her funeral. Thankfully, she’d left Natalie off the speaking list and requested that Hailey sing.
“I made this for you for Easter, but I think Aunt Sophie would want you to wear it today.” She pulled the garbage bag away to reveal the made-over dress.
&
nbsp; Hailey blinked. “It’s not black.”
“It was Aunt Sophie’s when she was just a little older than you.”
Hailey reached out and fingered the material. “It was Aunt Sophie’s?”
Natalie swallowed against the lump in her throat and nodded.
“It’s so pretty.”
“She had expensive taste for a farm girl.” They both chuckled.
“Well, she could spot quality in fabric and people from a mile away.” Hailey wiped at her tears. “She always said, ‘Buster Write is a good man, despite his funny clothes and stuff.’”
Natalie nodded. Buster had taken the initiative to watch over Aunt Sophie’s place. He’d given the grass a spring fertilizer, planted some flowers in the front beds, and cleaned all the windows. Natalie took him plates of food from the outpouring of casseroles and lasagna dinners provided by grieving friends and neighbors. The time she spent reminiscing with Buster was a balm to her wounded soul.
“And you always said she liked Dad right off the bat.”
“Yes, she did,” Natalie agreed. From the moment Eli burst into the house with the news of Aunt Sophie, he and Natalie had called a truce of sorts. Their only focus was on planning the funeral and organizing places for family to stay. They weren’t thinking or talking about their own issues. For a while, it was truly not about either of them, and the blessed peace that came from uniting together was refreshing.
The one big change was the sleeping arrangements. Eli had come to their bed that first night and every night since, wrapping her in his arms, and they simply held one another tight until they fell asleep. No more needle-breaking kisses ensued, but that was okay—for now.
Natalie sighed as she left her daughter to get dressed.
At times, she let her tears flow, mourning the marriage and life she’d wanted right along with her dear aunt. She’d had the perfect life for a while, and then the illusion had slipped away. Time before Eli lost his job seemed like a dream … and maybe it was: a dream existence where she didn’t face difficult choices, she didn’t work hard for what she had, and she didn’t value what was right in front of her.
Death did this to people, didn’t it? Losing a loved one made people contemplate their existence, look beyond the horizon of their circumstances and search out meaning.
Stepping into the shower, Natalie couldn’t follow her thoughts into deeper waters. Right now, she needed to survive the funeral service and the onslaught of family who had arrived in Snow Valley to celebrate the life and mourn the death of one of their own.
Chapter 14
Eli sat beside Natalie in the pew, her small, cold hand resting in his. She’d been this temperature ever since they’d arrived at the hospital only to find out they were too late. No matter how close he held her or how many tears she shed, her hands wouldn’t warm up. He worried that her heart was damaged and couldn’t pump hard enough to heat her fingers. If anyone could die of a broken heart, Natalie could. She had a heart as big as Montana, and when she suffered, her heartache showed in the lines of her face.
Natalie’s parents sat in front of them with her little brother and his family. They had kids in elementary school and a new baby to boot. Natalie’s mom, Joan, held the infant close to her chest, and Eli considered the comfort of a babe who had so recently come through the veil and into this life at a time when Joan was missing someone who had passed through to the other side.
Joyce and her kids’ grown kids were behind them, grief overwhelming the strain that usually accompanied his sister-in-law and her family.
Aunt Sophie’s kids and their children were clumped together in the center of the chapel. With so many grandchildren, they had a plethora of pallbearers and honorary pallbearers.
Surrounding the family were neighbors and longtime friends. The viewing the night before had gone well past the two hours allotted because of the overwhelming number of people who wanted to pay their respects. Today the church was filled to overflowing, and those who couldn’t find seats leaned against the back wall.
Eli was struck by the stories people told of Aunt Sophie. He’d always known her to be generous with her time and hugs, but he’d never guessed the extent of her good works.
The choir sang “How Great Thou Art,” as specified by Aunt Sophie’s wishes. Pastor James, relatively new to Snow Valley, shuffled to the podium, cleared his throat, and fixed his gaze on the stained-glass window high on the back wall. He stared so long, Eli was tempted to turn around and take a look himself.
“Sophie Morris did not live a wealthy life,” he began. “She grew a large garden and canned fruits and vegetables for over fifty years, not because she enjoyed the work—” He chuckled lightly, and so did several in the congregation. “—but because in doing so, she was able to provide these for her family and many neighbors when they would otherwise have gone hungry.
“Sophie was not a wealthy woman in the eyes of the world. Her bank balance was not large, and as far as I know, she rarely had money stashed under her mattress—unless it was Christmas, and even then the stash was meant for fabric to be used for Christmas dresses for her daughters.”
Heads bobbed in the family section of the room, and Joan added just loud enough for those around her to hear, “Her nieces, too.”
The pastor continued, “The Lord has said: Blessed are they who are poor in spirit and come unto me, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. He also admonished us to lay up our treasures in heaven where moth and rust do not corrupt.
“Within those guidelines, Sophie was a wealthy woman indeed. You can see the effect she had on people. She did not care that her home was not the biggest in Snow Valley, nor did she care if her clothes were the latest style or carried a designer name. She cared about people. Her family, her friends, her neighbors—strangers!
“For Sophie, it was never about how much she could get out of this life; it was always about how much she put into it. And with boards labeled service and nails labeled hope and shingles labeled love, she has built a heavenly mansion where she now resides with her beloved Liam.”
Eli bowed his head. Aunt Sophie had it right all along. As she would say, the proof is in the pudding. Well, Aunt Sophie, the proof of your words has filled the church today.
As Pastor John closed, Hailey made her way to the podium. She looked so small up there. His little girl. When she opened her mouth, a great big beautiful voice came out. “Amazing Grace” slammed into his chest, causing his heart to swell so big, Eli had a hard time taking a deep breath.
“Where did she learn to sing like that?” Eli whispered to Natalie.
“She’s singing for Aunt Sophie today.” Natalie bit her lip.
Eli gave Natalie’s hand a gentle squeeze. Aunt Sophie was right: his life was passing him by, and it was high time he paid attention.
Chapter 15
One week later
Natalie made her way to the break room. Her first day back at work had gone smooth enough, but she was ready for a soda and a few minutes of sitting on her tush.
“I guess she’ll never know,” said Allen, a fifteen-year-old stock boy, right as Natalie entered. He stuffed his phone into his pocket, and his friend, Calley, ducked her head.
“What’s going on?” asked Natalie. Years of raising children had honed Natalie’s senses to when mischief was afoot—and her senses were high-stepping circles around those two.
“Oh, um, I was just showing her some stuff online.”
“Uh-huh.” Not one to back away, Natalie held out her hand for the phone. Allen’s face went red as he handed it over.
Natalie stared at the email until her mind finally registered the meaning behind the message.
Dear Gifter,
Thank you for your gift to the Bucks for Bunnies program sponsored on Tracie’sTrimmings.Blogspot.com. For your anonymous donation to the Lawson Family in the amount of ten dollars, you have been entered to win the pleated blue gown featured in last month’s posts. Stay close to your inbox because I’l
l send out the name of the winner the day before Easter.
All the best,
Tracie
“What is this?”
Allen shuffled his feet. He opened his mouth several times, but couldn’t seem to get past his embarrassment. Calley rolled her eyes at him and said, “Tracie set up a Bucks for Bunnies on her blog for your family. For each donation, people get an entry for a drawing for the blue dress.” She lifted a shoulder. “I really wanted the dress for prom, so I had my aunt in Utah send you ten bucks.”
Natalie pressed her hand to her chest. “The blue dress? With the beads?”
Calley grinned. “Yeah, it’s sick.”
Natalie handed the phone back to Allen and asked Calley, “Why would she do that? The dress is worth over twelve hundred dollars.”
Calley shrugged. “I assumed it was because she’s nice.”
Allen snickered. “Tracie?” he asked, and Calley silenced him with smack to the arm.
Natalie pulled out a chair and plopped down. “She’s too nice.”
“Are you gonna yell at her?” asked Allen. Calley backhanded him in the chest and gave him a look like he was an idiot.
“No.” Natalie stared at the table. Because of that money, they’d been able to repair Eli’s truck and she had had financial leeway to take the time off after the funeral. She thought about Pastor James’s words at the service, how Aunt Sophie had built a mansion with her small acts of service. She didn’t want to take that away from Tracie. If there was anyone who deserved blessings and beautiful things in life, it was someone willing to give when they didn’t have much themselves. Besides, Tracie’s gift was so much more than money: she had given Natalie understanding and a validation that even in her worst of times, someone was watching over her family.
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