Leave a Candle Burning (11 page)

The time raced by, and almost at the same time all the women departed, everyone save Reese. That woman hung back a bit and asked Alison if she had any extra time.

“Certainly, Reese,” she invited. “I just need to run up and check on Jeff.”

Reese stayed in the parlor, wondering how she would explain. As she sat still, her last conversation with Conner came rushing back.

“How did the rest of your day go?”

“It was fine.”

“You feel okay?”

“I think so,” she had said, a bit helplessly, and then, “Conner, what exactly do you see in me right now?”

He had picked up her hand. “The Reese I know is a ball of energy. She radiates strength and stamina.”

“And now?”

“You’re just a little bit on the quiet side, almost sad.”

She had nodded, wondering what to think.

“Do you know how much I love you?” Conner had pressed.

“Yes, and how much God loves me. I spent all day thinking about the blessings and promises I have in Him, and yet I still feel a bit off, and you see that too.”

Even at that, her eyes had filled. Conner had reached up and put his large hand against her cheek. His thumb had stroked over her cheekbone, his touch light.

“It must be the changes in your body due to your pregnancy. Things might be a little thrown off during this time.”

She had only nodded in agreement.

“Why don’t you talk to Alison? She’s had enough children to know how to advise you.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“You go there tomorrow, don’t you?”

“Yes, but there will be other women there.”

“Then go early or stay late. You know that you’re always welcome.”

She was still remembering what Conner had said when Alison arrived back. When she did, the older woman found Reese looking very thoughtful.

“You have something on your mind,” Alison began, her voice kind. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’m just trying to figure out where to begin. Conner suggested I talk to you, and it seemed easy at the time, but now I’m not sure.”

“What does he want you to talk to me about?”

“About how you felt when you were expecting. We talked about it for a while last night, and when Conner realized I was going to see you today, he said to ask you about it.”

“How I felt emotionally or physically?”

“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.”