“Very strong.”
Amadahy gave a shrug of her narrow shoulders. “Who can say? Perhaps those troubles have strengthened her even more. Perhaps they were preparing her for the trials she may suffer as your wife.”
Ace felt like Teddy looked when he got a scolding from Meg.
Amadahy pointed the stem of the pipe at him. “It is the way of men to talk, my son. They will talk and talk about everything and everyone. They have talked about you more than most, perhaps. It has taken you many years to find out who Asa Allen is, and for the first time, the Creator has given you peace with yourself.”
She paused long enough to take another long draw on her pipe while Ace tried to figure out where she was headed with this conversation. He didn’t have to wait long.
“I think it is possible that it is you who is afraid of more talk. I think that maybe you like living in the shadows of the woods instead of out in the world so that no one can criticize you.”
The no-nonsense statement had taken Ace aback. Was that what he’d been doing?
“You have much to offer. Stories and hard truths. Knowledge and love. Much love,” she had told him. Then she’d told him to leave her, that she was weary of talking.
He’d left the reservation soon after his talk with his grandmother, and during the long journey home, he’d given serious thought to her comment about the things Meg had gone through making her stronger. Could he dare to hope that Amadahy was right?
He blew out a disgusted breath, making the air around him fog. He wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet, so here he was, a grown man hiding in the woods and the barn, watching for a glimpse of the woman he loved as she spent time with her children. The children he’d come to love.
He was standing at the edge of the clearing, hidden by a persimmon thicket, watching as his mother and the children traipsed into the house. He saw Meg stop on the porch and look out at the woods again, almost as if she sensed his presence. Then she went to the dinner bell and placed something on the metal bracket that held it. Stepping back, she spread her arms out and turned slowly from side to side, as if she were welcoming someone. The way he welcomed the sun.
Ace frowned. What was she doing? After a while, she let her arms fall to her sides and turned to go inside. Later, when the landscape turned dusky dark, he stole through the gloaming to see what she’d left on the bell.
Mistletoe! His heart began to race as he considered the implication of the small gift. She’d left him kisses. Smiling a silly smile, he counted the berries. Nine kisses. He closed his eyes and thought of the feel and taste of her lips and what it would be like to have the right to kiss them every day for the rest of his life.
He moved quietly through the twilight to the barn, still making no move to go to her. Amadahy was right about his living his life on the fringes. It was much easier that way. The simple truth was that he was scared of what it would mean if she said yes. He was afraid that they would think her a fool for marrying a man with no future for the second time.
He knew how men thought. Many would say that since Meg had married so soon after Elton’s death, she’d probably been carrying on with him while Elton was in jail. They would drag out his old sins and parade them through town. Hers, too. Without a doubt, they would be the focus of everyone’s talk, at least for a time.
His grandmother was right about another thing.
About this at least, he was behaving like a fool.
Chapter Fifteen
Two mornings later, Teddy was sleeping later than usual, and Meg was feeding Lucy her oatmeal when she heard hoofbeats thundering down the road. She gave Lucy’s mouth a swipe, set her on the floor and went to see what was going on. Nita joined Meg at the window. At first she couldn’t tell who the rider was, but finally realized it was the sheriff.
Memories of other times she’d seen Colt Garrett coming down the road set off an immediate feeling of alarm. Her anxiety eased when she remembered that the law would not be coming after Elton ever again. Going to the door, she stepped out onto the porch, hugging herself against the biting chill of the air.
“Mornin’, Colt,” she said. “Come on in out of the cold and have some coffee.”
“Mornin’, Meg. Coffee would be great,” he said, dismounting and striding up to the porch.
“What are you doing out and about so early?”
“Rachel sent me,” he told her, whipping off his hat and gesturing for her to precede him.
The uneasy feeling returned. Why on earth would Rachel send the sheriff at such an early hour?
Nita handed Colt a mug of coffee. He took it from her, but his eyes never left Meg.
A feeling of doom seemed to be closing in on her. “What is it, Colt?” she asked.
“It’s Georgie, Meg. She’s real bad and asking for you.”
* * *
In spite of the ill will between Meg and her mother, there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation as she prepared to go to Georgie’s side. She didn’t recall ever being summoned by her mother for anything but a scolding. Colt hitched up the wagon while she got ready, and then he tied his horse to the back and drove her to the Ferris place while Nita stayed with the children.
The ride to the little house located on a back road a couple of miles outside of Wolf Creek seemed to take forever. Meg recognized Rachel’s buggy and another tied to the hitching post, an unfamiliar horse next to them. When Colt knocked, Meg’s aunt Serena opened the door. A frisson of alarm tripped down Meg’s spine when she saw the preacher standing near the fireplace.
“I’m glad you came, Meg,” Serena said with a weary smile and a brief hug. “I wasn’t sure you would. She’s been asking for you.”
After Meg greeted the preacher, her aunt took her by the hand and led her across the gaudily decorated parlor to a closed door. A dozen questions swirled through Meg’s mind, but one stood out. Why was the pastor at her mother’s house?
The door opened to a small bedroom at Serena’s light rap. Rachel welcomed Meg with a hug, but her attention was on the woman who lay so still beneath the pile of quilts.
As she approached the bed, she could see that Georgie had lost a considerable amount of weight since she’d run into her outside of Ellie’s—how many weeks ago? It was the first time Meg remembered seeing her mother without the benefit of her powder and paint.
Hectic color heightened her cheeks and there were dark circles beneath her eyes. Even so, her unadorned face was truly beautiful with its softly winged brows, straight nose and prettily shaped lips. Pain squeezed Meg’s heart. What a shame that the world had not seen this Georgie Ferris. What a shame that she had been so insecure and dissatisfied in who she was that she’d found the need to create another person.
Meg’s guilty gaze sought Rachel’s. “I...I thought there would be more time.”
“There probably would have been, if she hadn’t contracted pneumonia. With her lungs already in distress, it’s just too much.”
Meg looked from her aunt to the doctor. “Pneumonia?”
Rachel actually smiled. “That’s the good news in all this.”
“How can that be good news?” How could her mother’s pneumonia be to her advantage in any way?
“She sent for Brother McAdams a few days ago,” Serena said. “She said she wanted to make things right with God—with everyone—and insisted on being baptized in the creek.”
“But it’s freezing outside!”
“We all argued with her,” Rachel said, “and Gabe even offered to fill one of his slipper tubs so we could do it inside.” She gave a humorless smile. “You know your mother as well as anyone, and there was no changing her mind.”
That was a fact. Once Georgina Ferris made up her mind about something, there was no swaying her.
“There’s nothing we can do?” Meg asked.
“I’m doing what I can. I’ve been putting poultices on her chest and giving her flaxseed and slippery elm tea when she can take it, but I don’t think it’s doing much good,” Rachel told her apologetically.
“I came to check on her,” Serena offered, “and even though her cough was worse, I assumed it was the consumption. Maybe if I’d fetched Rachel sooner...”
“I don’t know if that would have made any difference at this point,” Rachel said when Serena’s voice trailed away.
“Where’s Charlie?” Meg asked, realizing she’d seen no sign of the man who’d been such a terrible influence on her mother.
“That’s another good thing. Georgie sent him away the day she sent for Brother McAdams. Said she never wanted to see him again.”
“Should have done it years ago.”
The observation, spoken in little more than a breathless whisper, came from the woman on the bed.
“Mama.” Meg was at her side in an instant and took one thin hand in hers.
Georgie smiled up weakly at her daughter. “Thank you for coming. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t.”
“Don’t talk,” Meg said. “Save your strength.”
“I brought you here to tell you some things.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Meg insisted. “All that matters is that you get better.” Tears began to slip down her cheeks. “I should have come when I first heard you were sick. I’m sorry, Mama.”
“You’re like me that way,” Georgie said with a twist of her lips that was meant to be a smile. “Bullheaded. And just for the record, I’m the one who’s sorry.”
A severe coughing spell interrupted whatever it was she was about to say. Meg didn’t miss the streaks of blood on the scrap of white cloth Georgina tossed into a wooden box at the bedside.
When she was in control once more, Georgie said, “I’m ashamed to say that when your father died, I was so miserable I wanted to die, too. And then along came Charlie, and he was fun, and he made me forget my unhappiness for a while. I came to depend on him for a lot of things, including the roof over my head for a time. And then when his money ran out and he began to ask me to do...things I should have been ashamed to do, I did them to make him happy.”
Meg closed her eyes, but she couldn’t close her ears. “You don’t have to tell me this.”
“Yes,” Georgina said, fighting for every shallow breath. “I do. That’s one reason I tried to put as much distance between us as possible by goading you and pushing you off on Serena every chance I got. I knew she and Dave would give you the background you needed to live a decent life.”
“And the other reason?” Meg asked.
“I admit to being a weak woman, Meg,” she said, her grip tightening. “But I’ve never been stupid.” Her smile was as dry as dust. “Well, maybe a little stupid when it came to Charlie. I saw how he and his buddies looked at you and I knew what he had on his mind. I didn’t want that for you, so I kept picking those fights. The good Lord knows I wanted you gone, but I never meant to drive you into Elton Thomerson’s arms.”
Meg forced a short laugh. “Believe me, I was well aware of Charlie, and I wanted out, too, and if it hadn’t been Elton, it would have been someone else.”
She sighed. “I have to give the devil his due. Elton had a way about him that was hard to resist. By the time I started figuring out what kind of man he really was, I was pregnant with Teddy, and I was stuck.”
Georgie gave a reasonable try at her signature snort of disgust. “You should have just walked away and let the gossips talk. They did anyway.”
“You’re right,” Meg said. There was no sense telling her mother that every time she’d threatened to leave, Elton had told her he would find her and drag her back and make her sorry she’d gone. Meg didn’t say a thing about that. It was in the past. Instead, she and her mother shared a smile for the first time since... She couldn’t remember when.
“I’m proud of you, Meg,” Georgina said.
Meg shook her head, denying that she deserved the compliment. “I’ve made mistakes, too, Mama.”
“You have. Everyone does. But you’ve worked hard to overcome them, and you’ve turned out to be a good person despite who your mama or your husband was.”
“Thank you for that,” Meg said, blinking fast. “That means a lot.”
Georgie looked at her sister. “I want to thank you for all you’ve done, Serena. Despite everything I’ve been and done, I never doubted your love for me.” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper.
“You’re my sister,” Serena said, as if the simple statement explained it all.
Georgie smiled at Serena and gave her attention back to Meg. “I wish things had been different. I wish I’d been different, because I’ve always loved you and I threw you away for a man who wasn’t fit to breathe air.”
Tears filled the green eyes, so much like Meg’s. “I’ve made my peace with God and I know He’s forgiven me. I pray that someday you can, too.”
Meg didn’t recall ever seeing her mother any way but feisty and difficult. The genuine contrition in her manner was something Meg had hoped for through the years, but never thought she’d see.
Her mother was saying goodbye.
“I have forgiven you,” Meg said, and the moment the words left her lips she knew it was true.
Georgina Ferris died three hours later.
* * *
When Meg left for town, Ace lost no time going to talk to his mother, who was overjoyed to see him. She wasn’t the only one. Lucy toddled over to him and grabbed the fringe on his leather pants, begging him to pick her up.
“Where’s Teddy?” he asked, doing just that and letting Lucy smear wet kisses on his cheek.
“Still sleeping.”
“It’s just as well,” Ace said in a low voice, bouncing the baby on his knee. “I can’t stay long and don’t want Meg to know I’m back just yet.”
Nita set a cup of coffee in front of her son and took a seat across from him. “How is my mother?”
After Ace assured her that Amadahy was as well as could be expected for her age, she asked, “Did she offer you any new thoughts about you and Meg?”
Ace flashed one of his rare smiles. “She told me I was a fool.”
“I’m afraid I would tend to agree.”
Ace laughed softly, trying his best not to wake Teddy. Until recently, he hadn’t had much to laugh about. He told his mother what he’d confessed to his grandmother about being fearful of the slurs people might sling at him and Meg if they married. “She told me that Meg should be allowed to make the decision whether or not she wanted to go through that.”
Nita nodded. “I agree. Two hearts are involved in this thing called love, and two hearts should come together in every decision.”
Ace only nodded. “Grandmother also asked me if my concern was really for Meg or if I was fearful of facing the gossip again myself. She told me I’ve been hiding from the pain that life hands out by avoiding people.”
“And?” Nita asked gently.
“I think she’s right. Now I just have to see if I’m man enough to be the man Meg thinks I am.”
* * *
Serena, the preacher and Rachel offered to take care of the funeral arrangements, which would happen in two days. Serena and Dave would pay for the casket.
Colt offered to drive Meg back, but she thanked him for his trouble and told him that she was fine and didn’t want to bother him to make the extra trip.
As Meg made her way back home, she thought of the conversation with her mother. As wrong and as hurtful as Georgina’s treatment of her had been, she had been doing her misguided best to give Meg a chance for a decent life.
Unfortunately, things hadn’t worked out as planned; in fact, they often didn’t. Ace was right. God gav
e everyone choices every day. Good or bad, our lives reflected those choices. Meg had assumed that she was more or less free of her mother’s influence since she seldom had contact with her. That couldn’t be further from the truth. The truth was that Georgina Ferris had influenced almost every choice Meg had ever made.
No more feeling sorry for yourself, Meg Thomerson. No more blaming God for the bad things that had come her way. In the end, whatever had happened in her past was the sum of those choices, and there was nothing to do about them once they were made, except to live with the results.
Meg took a deep breath of the cold air and realized that making the choice to forgive her mother had lightened a burden she’d carried for a long time. It was not a decision she’d regret.
She prayed all the way home, and by the time she reached the little whitewashed house, her sorrow over her mother’s death was tempered by the fact that Georgie had made the choice, however late it might have been, to make things right with the Lord.
* * *
The moment she walked through the door, Nita must have known what had happened by the look on Meg’s face. She’d come to know the older woman so well over the past weeks that she had no qualms about telling her everything her mother had said as they shared a cup of tea.
“It’s good that you went, then,” Nita told her, giving her hand a pat.
“It is,” Meg agreed, “but I should have gone when I first heard she was sick.”
“There’s no sense fretting and blaming yourself over the things you should have done,” Nita said. “The important thing is that you got there in time, and you resolved your differences.”
Meg nodded. “Today made me aware of something else, something I know but more or less ignored, I guess.” She gave a short, almost embarrassed laugh. “It’s something that, maybe more than anyone, I should be aware of.”
Nita regarded her with a questioning look.
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