Holly had questioned God often over the past year. She’d wondered why He allowed Nathan to enter her life, then leave it in tatters. She’d wondered why He left her burdened with so much debt and a struggling restaurant she disliked. She’d wondered why He didn’t stop her from making foolish choices. But for some reason, she had no questions for Him now. “God brought the two of you together for a purpose.”
Jed looked up.
“It has to be a God thing. How else would you have met Willow? You were looking for Chris, not a former girlfriend. You didn’t know she existed. And you certainly didn’t know he had a son. If you hadn’t rented my apartment, you wouldn’t have met Willow. It must have happened by design.”
He frowned. “I suppose you’re right.”
She felt a pull at her heart. Lord, was my only part to introduce him to Willow? Dread of the answer made her throat constrict.
Jed met her gaze. Unlike yesterday, there was no humor or pleasure in his eyes. “I’d better go. I just . . . thought you should know.”
His quick departure seemed answer enough, and with the end in sight, she felt her heart begin to break.
Tuesday, October 28, 1969
That evening Andrew climbed the ladder to the barn’s loft, ignoring the spasms in his lower back as he did so. For almost forty years, this loft had been his thinking place and, more often than not, his prayer closet. The dusty smell was comforting to him. He knew the number of steps it took to pace from one end of the loft to the other, and he knew the view from the loft door as well as he knew his own face. Now, having reached the top of the ladder, he moved to that door and opened it. Gloaming blanketed the earth, and the cool air was rich with the particular scents of autumn.
Helen hadn’t wanted to tell Grant and Charlotte the results from her recent tests, but since the young couple had known about the doctor’s appointment, there hadn’t been much choice other than lying to them. That hadn’t been an option. So they’d settled for telling them Helen wasn’t ready to talk about it yet and to please be patient. Their grandson wasn’t a fool. He understood the news had been serious or his grandparents would never have asked for more time before discussing it. But the younger couple had honored the request and asked nothing more.
Tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow they would tell Grant and Charlotte what they knew before making the necessary phone calls to their children, who would then tell their spouses and their own children in the proper way and at the best times.
Watching as darkness deepened beyond the barn, Andrew stepped back and sat on a bale of straw. He took slow, deep breaths and released them.
“Death is a part of life,” his mother had once told him.
It was true. As long as the world remained under the curse, death would surround them. Yet death felt wrong. God had created mankind for eternity, and somewhere inside every person, whether or not they acknowledged God, they resisted an end to life because it wasn’t part of the divine plan.
Through the years, loved ones had been taken from Andrew. Some had gone slowly, like his parents in old age. Some had gone suddenly, like two of his children, one stillborn, the other taken in the Pacific during the war. He’d lost a good friend in an automobile accident and another to cancer. Those were only a few of the funerals he’d attended in his lifetime.
“We’re never ready for death, Lord,” he whispered. “Even when we see it coming, we’re not ready.”
He realized as he sat there, watching the crest of the rising moon appear above the tree line, that he’d expected to be the one to go first. Statistically, women lived longer than men. His father and father-in-law had both passed away before their wives. His old neighbor Hirsch had passed away before his wife, Ida. A husband dying before his wife seemed the more natural order of things. It should have been Andrew himself who was diagnosed with a TIA or an AVM. It should be Andrew himself who was facing the end of life. Not Helen. Not his wife.
Pain wrapped like a belt around his chest, tightening until he could scarcely draw breath.
“How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them!”
Psalm 139 had long been a favorite of Andrew’s. He found it comforting to know that God had ordained the number of each person’s days since before they were born. But accepting that Helen’s days were fewer in number than his own came hard. Harder than he’d expected.
“She’s my partner in life, Lord. She’s been with me in every up and down since the day we married. How will I manage without her?”
A cool breeze entered through the open loft door, causing bits of straw to twirl and tumble across the boards before him. Along with it came a whisper in his heart, a reminder that he wasn’t without Helen. She was still with him. Death hadn’t visited them yet.
Her words echoed in his memory. “I’m going to choose to live fully while I can.”
If she chose to live fully, shouldn’t he do the same?
He rose and moved to the open door a second time. There, he stared across the barnyard and fields.
“You brought us to a good land, Lord. A very good land. You’ve given us many good years. You’ve blessed us beyond measure. We’ll live fully together while we can.”
For the briefest of moments it seemed he felt the hand of God stroke his head, offering comfort. It was enough for now.
Chapter 21
After a sleepless night, Jed went to see Ben. Even if his cousin didn’t have advice, Jed was sure a visit to the Harmony Barn would provide a distraction for a few hours. The air was still cool when he arrived, and before he could walk to the house, he saw Ben rolling a wheelbarrow filled with hay toward one of the paddocks. As Ben set it down, he noticed Jed, straightened, and waved. Then he waited for him to walk his way over.
“Morning, Jed. Didn’t expect to see you in the middle of the week. Especially this early.”
“I needed to get out and clear my head. This was the logical destination. Can I help with the feeding?”
“Sure.” Ben lifted the handles of the wheelbarrow again. “Follow me.”
They worked together in silence, tossing hay into feed bins, watching as the horses plunged their muzzles into the food and began to chew. Huffs and occasional stomps punctuated the morning air, but they were calming sounds. By the time the two men made their way to the front porch of the house, Jed was ready to share what he’d learned from Willow. It was easier to tell Ben than it had been Holly. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because Holly had been Willow’s friend first.
“Holly thinks God brought all of this about,” he ended. “Caused Willow and me to meet, I mean.”
“I have to believe the same. Hard to believe your paths would’ve crossed otherwise.”
Jed knew his cousin’s faith ran deep. He wished he could be as sure of his own faith. Sure enough that he could place his life—and the lives of those he cared about—into God’s hands and trust completely, no matter what.
I believe, Lord. Help now my unbelief.
Ben leaned forward, resting forearms on thighs, hands clasped. “Now what?”
“I don’t know. The ball’s in Chris’s court at this point. Maybe I could pressure Willow to tell me where he’s living or where he’s working, but that doesn’t feel right to me.” He stared toward the paddocks. Some of the horses had finished eating and were moving away from the feed bins. “No sessions today?”
“Nope. Next riding series starts up in June. But you could come by on Saturday if you want to see what it’s like when some of our other clients are here.”
“Maybe I’ll do that.” Jed looked at his cousin again. “Do you think I should tell Mom and Dad about Willow and AJ? Or should I leave that to Chris? He must mean to if he’s planning to be in the kid’s life.”
“I don’t know, Jed. You need to figure that out for yourself. What’s right for your parents. What’s right for Chris. What’s right for Willow and her son.” He shrugged. “What’s right for you.”
A magpie
scolded from a tree at the corner of the house. Both men looked in the direction of the harsh sound.
“That’s a lot of figuring out,” Jed said.
“Afraid so.”
“Do you ever wish God would text you the answers? That way there’d be no guessing or wondering if you’re making the right choice. Nice clear words. ‘Jed, make this phone call. Say these words. Do it at three o’clock tomorrow.’”
Ben chuckled. “Would be nice.” He looked up at the sky for a moment. “But if we had that, we wouldn’t need to listen to the Holy Spirit. We wouldn’t need faith.”
“And without faith, it’s impossible to please God,” Jed finished.
His cousin nodded.
Jed relaxed against the back of the chair, letting the worry drain out of him, at least for now. He would pray on what to do and wait for direction. He wanted to make the right choices. Right for everyone. He would try to trust God to show him what those right choices were.
Dusty, Ben’s yellow lab, got up from his spot beneath the porch swing and came to his master, pushing his head underneath Ben’s hand.
“That’s a hint,” Ben said with a smile as he scratched the dog behind his ear. “I need to get some work done.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“Sure. If you want.” Ben stood. “Come on.”
* * *
The empire-style floor-length gown had dropped sleeves and a V-neck. The chiffon bridesmaid’s dress had been pretty in the catalog, but Holly hadn’t expected it to be this stunning in person.
“Oh, sis.” Trixie walked around Holly. “I’m glad you chose the cornflower blue.”
“So am I.”
“It’s perfect on you.”
Holly checked out the back of the dress in the mirrors that surrounded her.
The seamstress straightened. “We’ll need to take the hem up an inch, but no other alterations are necessary.”
Trixie frowned in thought. “I’m not sure what the bridesmaids should wear on their heads. Maybe some flowers. A spray of those tiny white ones, whatever they’re called.”
“We have some wonderful hair accessories,” the seamstress interjected. “Combs and headbands and more. Why don’t you come out front and look for yourself?”
Moments later Holly stood alone in the dressing room, staring at the mirror. Yet she no longer saw herself in the bridesmaid’s gown of cornflower blue. She remembered herself in her wedding gown, all white satin and lace. She’d only had the dress on in the bridal shop. She and the gown had never made it to the church. The wedding had been canceled before that could happen. For weeks afterward, she’d imagined what had never taken place. She’d seen herself standing beside Nathan, promising to love, honor, and cherish. Even though he’d broken her heart, even though she didn’t really want him back, still her imagination had clung to the dream. It had been a huge relief when she hadn’t seen herself in the dress anymore.
But now her imagination took wing, and she envisioned herself walking down an aisle toward her groom. Only it wasn’t Nathan waiting for her. It was Jed.
“No,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. “I won’t want him. I won’t let myself fall in love with him. It’s over before it started. I knew that yesterday.” She pressed her lips into a tight line, determined that those words would be true. It was over before it started. It was over before it started. She wouldn’t let herself fall in love with Jed. It was over before it started.
But it wasn’t true, and determination wouldn’t make it true. She couldn’t deny how she felt, no matter how hard she tried.
She opened her eyes and stared at her reflection. “You don’t allow yourself to care for someone. You don’t let yourself fall in love. You feel what you feel.”
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t not feel what she felt for Jed Henning. She could only control what she did with those feelings—and what she allowed them to do with her. Trixie had helped her see how she’d closed herself off emotionally this past year, and Holly didn’t want to revert to that old way of living or thinking. Because Tennyson was right. It was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
She stepped off the riser and moved closer to the mirror. “Who says you’ve lost? Why are you so determined to see the half-empty cup instead of the half-full one? When did fearing the worst become your default?” She closed her eyes one more time. “God, I don’t want to be that person. I’m Your daughter. I’m a child of the King. Change me. Change my heart and renew my mind. Don’t let me be afraid to live, to feel.”
“Talking to yourself?” Trixie asked with a lilt of humor in her voice.
Holly turned to face her sister, who stood just inside the dressing room curtain, a few hair accessories in the palm of one hand.
“Praying, actually.”
“What about?”
Holly shrugged, not ready to say more. Perhaps she was tired of her younger sister being the one who had the most wisdom, the most common sense, the one who had her life in order. Or perhaps she was waiting for the renewal of her mind to happen first so she could see things the way God wanted her to see them—no matter what happened.
Trixie didn’t press for an explanation. Instead, she crossed the room and began to hold the accessories against Holly’s hair, trying one, then another. After looking at everything she’d brought into the room, she asked, “What do you think?”
Holly drew a deep breath and focused her attention once more upon her sister. “The first one. Especially if I’m supposed to wear my hair up.”
“The first one it is.”
* * *
Jed stood beneath the shower spray, washing away the dirt, sweat, and bits of hay from his day at the Harmony Barn. He was tired, in the best kind of way, from the work he’d done with his cousin. Ben hadn’t given him specific advice, but Jed’s spirit had quieted enough now to hear when God spoke to him. At least he believed so.
Once dried off and dressed in clean clothes, he went into the living room and sat on the sofa. This past week, he’d started each day with time reading the Bible and praying. He often picked up his great-grandfather’s King James Version, searching out the handwritten notes therein. This time he reached for his own Bible, lying where he’d left it that morning. Using the attached ribbon to find where he’d stopped reading earlier, he opened to Luke. He’d read only a few chapters when he arrived at the story of Jesus’s invitation to His first disciples to follow Him and become catchers of men, ending with: “When they had brought their boats to land, they left everything and followed Him.”
At that point Jed felt a need to backtrack a few verses, to the place where Jesus told Simon to go into the deep water and let down the nets there.
“Simon answered and said, ‘Master, we worked hard all night and caught nothing, but I will do as You say and let down the nets.’”
It occurred to Jed, as he stared at those words, that Simon had believed the instructions were foolish, that they’d made no sense to him since they’d fished all night without success. Still, because Jesus had said to do it—the Jesus he’d heard teaching the crowd—Simon did it.
“Jesus,” Jed whispered, “even when what You tell me doesn’t make sense, I will do as You say. I want that to be my default response every time.” He drew a slow breath and released it. “Just make sure I can tell it’s You who’s talking.”
Thursday, November 13, 1969
The condo in Lincoln City, Oregon, had large windows overlooking the ocean, both in the living room and in the bedroom.
“Oh, Andrew.” Staring out at the water, Helen clapped her hands, then crossed them over her heart in a gesture of delight. “It’s perfect.”
“It’s a step up from the place we stayed on our honeymoon.”
“How can you say that?” She turned toward him, a scolding look in her eyes. “Our honeymoon was perfect.”
He laughed as he draped an arm around her shoulders. “The honeymoon was perfect. The accommod
ations were less so.” He kissed her cheek, noting its softness against his lips. “And the weather back then was surprisingly warm. Not gray, cold, and windy like it’s supposed to be this time.”
“Windy is perfect for flying kites, and we brought warm coats. Let’s go back to the shop we passed on our way through town and buy a kite for each of us.”
“Great idea. But let’s get unpacked and eat first. I’m starved.”
“The shop might be closed if we wait.”
“It’ll be open again tomorrow morning. Even if we bought them tonight, we can’t fly kites in the dark. We’ll go to the shop first thing tomorrow. We’ll be there when they open. I promise.”
She turned fully toward him and stepped into his embrace, pressing her cheek against his chest. “There’s so much I want to do.”
Andrew knew she meant much more than what she wanted to do during this second honeymoon to the Oregon coast. His chest tight, he kissed the top of her head. “We’ll do as much as we can.”
Neither one of them moved for a minute, but finally Helen drew back. “Let’s get unpacked. I’m hungry too.” She gave him a watery smile.
Andrew nodded, then headed out to the Jeep to collect their suitcases. He was determined this trip would be everything Helen hoped it would be. If she wanted to fly kites for seven days straight, that’s what they would do. The idea for the second honeymoon had come out of nowhere—or so it seemed to Andrew. They’d been talking about their life together, and memories of the Oregon coast had come up. Suddenly they’d been planning this trip. Two weeks later, here they were.
He smiled as he looked toward the entrance of their condo, glad he hadn’t resisted the idea. For much of his life, the farm had made it difficult to travel. It had become a habit to stay home, to never want to be away overnight for any reason. But the demands of the farm were no longer the same. For that matter, the demands were no longer his. They belonged to Grant—and Andrew belonged with Helen wherever she wanted to be.
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