by Rebecca Pugh
It was only a small cemetery, the outer edges surrounded by the oaks of Bluebell Hill. Birds sang in the trees, she could hear the distant buzzing of bees, and the sweet scent of the later days of summer hung in the air around her. She passed countless headstones. Some with the words long ago faded, others newly placed down, shiny and clean, not at all weathered like the rest of them. She followed the faint trail that could just about be made out in the grass below, a path that must have been walked down hundreds of times before.
Finally, she stilled beside the headstone that she’d been looking for and stared at the words that had been etched into the headstone in gold, italic lettering.
Miriam and Arthur McAdams.
Always loved, never forgotten.
After a few minutes of silence had passed, Jessica knelt down on the grass, placed one hand against the cold granite and arranged the flowers in the vase.
‘I wanted to say thank you,’ she said out loud once she’d managed to find her voice and was brave enough to say the words. ‘For everything that happened. And…’ She faltered for a moment, then, ‘I forgive you.’ She remained there for a couple more minutes, with her eyes closed and head bowed, until she stood up, took a last look at the headstone and walked away silently.
There was always time for forgiveness. You couldn’t move on without it. As she strolled back down the sun-touched lane, she felt a weight lift from off her shoulders, and finally, her breath came easy.
She knew deep down that her childhood would never look rosy, but she refused to let that part of her life overrule the here and the now. Finally, she felt like she belonged, in Bluebell Hill, where her story had begun. It had taken a while for her to feel that way, and she’d found out some realities of her life along the way but now, with delicious Rueben and good old Esme by her side, she felt like she was starting fresh, letting go of all that had happened before. Bluebell House, with its charming countryside appeal, well and truly belonged to her, and she couldn’t wait to fill the rooms with her and Rueben’s laughter, with Esme’s company, and perhaps, in time, the sound of children, and maybe even a family dog, too.
She smiled to herself as the sun’s rays warmed her cheeks and the distance between herself and the cemetery increased. She lifted her face up and allowed the heat to dance across her skin. The sky was clear blue, the old, creaking oaks leaving bulky shadows along the stony lane, and every now and again, allowing her a brief reprieve from the heat. But she didn’t want the reprieve. She felt free, wild, and truly content with her life. She stepped into the middle of the lane, where the sun shone strongest, and threw her head back as she laughed. If anyone were to have been watching her they would have thought of her as being mad, but they wouldn’t understand.
She walked by the open green fields, some with horses neighing in the distance, others empty and serene. When Bluebell House came into view up ahead, she paused and tilted her head to the side slightly as she studied it. Clearing her throat and blinking the happy tears away, she confirmed the words in her mind, and eventually, said the words out loud.
‘Hello, Home.’
CARINA™
ISBN: 978 1 474 03557 6
Return to Bluebell Hill
Copyright © 2015 Rebecca Pugh
Published in Great Britain (2015)
by Carina, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
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