30

Olivia lay on top of her bed, staring at the swirls in the ceiling plaster above her. Her limbs felt like lead, so heavy that she wouldn’t be able to move them if she tried. Her eyes burned from hours of constant weeping, and her lips were parched from lack of moisture, as though every ounce of water had been drained from her body.

She glanced over at the window, attempting to ascertain if it were day or night. The days blurred together now, since she slept almost around the clock with no concept of the passage of time. What did it matter? She had no reason to get up, no reason to leave her room. Ruth could manage the home without her, and the girls didn’t need her. They had all the resources they required. In fact, since no one needed her, perhaps if she just kept sleeping, eventually she wouldn’t awaken at all.

Two sharp knocks sounded. “Olivia? Are you up?”

Olivia winced. Ruth’s voice was loud enough to rouse a coma patient.

She kept her eyes closed and ignored her. Hopefully, she’d assume she was sleeping and go away.

“Olivia, you have a visitor.”

She frowned, irritation mounting. Ruth had probably demanded Dr. Henshaw come to try and coax her from her self-imposed exile. But it wouldn’t work. She had no intention of seeing anyone.

The door creaked open.

Olivia steeled herself for Ruth’s inspection. As she’d done every day, Ruth would come in, hover for a few minutes, murmur a prayer, then let herself out again. A tiny part of Olivia felt bad ignoring her friend that way. But she couldn’t summon the energy to convince Ruth that she wanted to be left alone.

The bed sagged under the weight of someone sitting down.

Olivia held her breath. This was something new. And unwelcome.

A hand touched her leg.

She tensed. What if it wasn’t Ruth? What if she’d sent someone else in?

Olivia opened her eyes, her muscles loosening the moment she recognized her friend.

“Good.” Ruth peered at her. “You’re awake.”

Olivia scowled. “I want to be alone.”

“Well, that’s too bad. Because it’s time to return to the land of the living, and I’m not taking no for an answer, young lady.”

Heat surged through Olivia’s chest. She swallowed to force her emotions back down. She would not fall for Ruth’s attempt to goad her into an outburst of temper.

“You have a visitor downstairs. Darius Reed has been by almost every day. I think you should get up and see him.”

“I don’t want to talk to anyone.” She flipped onto her side, putting her back to Ruth.

“We also have a new resident who’d like to meet you. Her name is Monica. She’s about four months along in her pregnancy, I believe, and settling in nicely so far. I’ve told her all about you.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have. I have nothing to say. Nothing to give. Nothing left but . . .” She bit her lip.

“But what, pain?”

Amazingly, the burn of tears built behind Olivia’s eyes. She’d thought her insides too barren and dry to cry anymore, but apparently she was wrong.

“Olivia, I want you to listen to me.” Ruth’s voice had become gentle. “What you’ve been through is more than any one person should have to bear in two lifetimes. If I could take away your pain or bear the brunt of it myself, I would gladly do so.” She sniffed. “But life goes on, whether you want it to or not. Right now, you probably think it’s preferable to shut yourself off and exist in a state of numbness. I did that quite successfully for a very long time. The problem, however, is that you’re not really living.”

A warm hand landed on Olivia’s shoulder. She stiffened, but Ruth didn’t remove it.

“You have so much love inside you, but you’re afraid to share it. I’ve watched you with the women here, the way you hold yourself back from really connecting with them. Holding yourself in reserve, waiting for the pain to arrive.”

Every muscle in Olivia’s body became taut. She did not want to hear this. Did not need to listen.

“With Abigail, though, the real Olivia emerged. I saw how much you loved that baby, saw your incredible tenderness and devotion. You showered her with such love that it almost became an obsession. Yet deep down you knew it couldn’t last. That she wasn’t yours to keep.”

Tremors rippled through Olivia’s body. She held herself tight, hardly daring to breathe, lest the dam inside her break.

Ruth rubbed a hand down Olivia’s back. “Remember the joy you felt when you held Abigail? That’s how life is meant to be lived. You can hide from love and live an empty, joyless existence, or you can open your arms wide and embrace it.

“Does it mean you’ll never have heartache? Unfortunately, no. Everyone experiences loss and grief. I lost my son and daughter-in-law, then my husband, and, in another way, my grandson too. And yes, I wallowed in that state of numbness for longer than I care to admit, wishing for death. But then God brought you into my life. You made me remember how good it felt to care about people again.”

Spasms wracked Olivia’s chest as tears slowly slid down her face onto the pillow. “I can’t do it. I can’t take any more pain.”

Warm arms surrounded her as Ruth pulled her close, rocking her like she was an infant herself. “The heart has an amazing ability to heal, my dear. If you’ll only let it.”

Olivia buried her face in the woman’s shoulder, clutching Ruth’s arm as though anchoring herself to the room, to the world.

“There, there,” Ruth murmured against Olivia’s hair. “I’m here to help you through this if you’ll let me. And God is with you as well. He will sustain you in your sorrow and grant your heart peace. I promise you.”

As her tears subsided at last, Olivia absorbed the shelter of Ruth’s embrace, allowing her soothing words to sink deep into her marrow. She’d never had a grandmother, not one she could remember, but in this moment, she had an idea what having one would feel like.

Olivia raised her damp face to see Ruth wiping her own eyes.

“I’m sorry I let you down,” Olivia whispered. “I thought I’d be strong enough to handle being around mothers and their babies. But I don’t know if I am.”

Ruth shook her head. “You did not let me down. It’s only natural to go through a period of adjustment. The next babies who come along will be easier. You won’t expect to keep every one of them.”

Olivia’s lips twitched as she dried her eyes. “That probably wouldn’t be wise.”

“Nor very practical.” Ruth helped her sit up. “Now, I’m going to prepare you a nice hot bath and bring you up a sandwich and some tea. And maybe tomorrow you’ll feel like joining us in the dining room.” She kissed Olivia’s cheek, then moved off the bed.

“Ruth?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Would you ask Darius to come back tomorrow? I might be up to seeing him then.”

“Certainly.”

“And Ruth?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Ruth pressed her lips together, sorrow and relief reflecting in her eyes. She nodded once, then slipped out the door.

Darius wasn’t sure what to expect when he arrived at Bennington Place the following afternoon. It had been five days since Ruth Bennington had called to give him the news that Abigail had been taken from the home and to ask that he come by the house in an effort to coax Olivia from her room. And so, every day he’d gone over, and every day Ruth had sadly shaken her head. Olivia refused to leave her room, seeing no one, barely eating or drinking. Darius had been beside himself with worry, yet all he could do was pray that Ruth could get through the wall of Olivia’s grief. To his great relief, yesterday Ruth told him that Olivia might be ready to see him.

Now he had to figure out what to say to her. Olivia was suffering, and he had no idea how to ease her pain, especially when he felt a measure of guilt about the whole situation.

“I know you were recently planning to marry Meredith. I was wondering . . . if you’d consider marrying me instead.”

Rather than hearing her out, he’d been consumed with making her pay for the hurt she’d inflicted on him. Not one of his finest moments.

This morning, as he was getting ready to leave, however, he’d had the brilliant idea to bring Sofia along. From experience, he knew that a child’s exuberance could do wonders to cheer a person, and Sofia had been asking when she could go back to see Miss Olivia. Perhaps having his daughter there would ease the tension between him and Olivia as well. He’d already prepared Sofia for the fact that baby Abigail had gone to a new home, and he prayed the girl wouldn’t bring up the subject in front of Olivia.

As they reached the gate to Bennington Place, he looked down at Sofia, who clutched a folded piece of paper in her fingers, apparently a drawing she’d made for Olivia. “Remember, Mouse, Miss Olivia might be a bit sad today, so we won’t mention baby Abigail, right?” It couldn’t hurt to remind her one more time.

“I remember, Daddy. That’s why I made her a picture.” Sofia smiled, a dimple winking in one cheek.

“That was very thoughtful.”

“Is that why you brought her flowers?” She pointed to the colorful bouquet of carnations and daisies in his hand.

“That’s right. Most ladies like getting flowers.”

He went up to the door and knocked, a habit he’d started so the bell wouldn’t wake the babies.

Ruth opened the door. “Darius. It’s good to see you again.” Somehow over the last few days, they’d moved to a first name relationship. “And who is this darling girl?”

He smiled. “This is my daughter, Sofia. Sofia, this is Mrs. Bennington, the owner of this residence.”

“Hello,” Sofia said. “I like your house. It’s pretty.”

“Why, thank you.” Ruth’s eyes gleamed as she gazed down at Sofia.

Once again, his daughter had instantly won someone’s heart. How he envied that skill.

“We’re here to see Miss Olivia. I have a picture for her.” Sofia waved the folded page in front of her.

“I’m sure she’ll love it. Won’t you come in?” Ruth moved aside as they entered. “I believe Olivia’s in the backyard. If you’d like to go out, you can get there through the kitchen.”

“I know the way, thank you.” Darius took Sofia’s hand and led her down the corridor.

They walked through the kitchen, which smelled of freshly baked bread and cinnamon. Mrs. Neale stood at the counter, her fists buried in a batch of dough. When she looked over, she gave him a subtle nod. The weight of everyone’s expectations suddenly seemed as heavy as the iron skillet on the stovetop. He only hoped he wouldn’t let them down.

Opening the back door, he led Sofia out to the lawn, where he spotted Olivia immediately. She was seated on a bench at the far end of the yard, surrounded by greenery and blooming flowers. Even at a distance, he could sense the aura of sadness enveloping her.

Sofia tugged her hand free and raced across the grass, waving the paper. “Miss Olivia! Miss Olivia! I brought you a picture.” She came to a halt in front of her.

Olivia smiled as she took the offering. “Hi, Sofia. Did you draw this?”

“Yes. To help you feel better.”

Darius came to stand beside the bench. “Hello, Olivia. I hope you don’t mind my bringing Sofia. She was dying to come back and see you.”

Olivia raised her gaze to his, and his chest tightened. Her beautiful brown eyes seemed hollow, and the light that usually glowed within them was missing.

“I don’t mind. It’s good to see you both.” Her words fell flat, no emotion behind them.

“Open your picture, Miss Olivia.” Sofia bounced from one foot to the other.

Olivia wrestled the paper against the breeze that threatened to tear it from her grasp, then stared at the crude stick figures, her expression unreadable.

Darius almost groaned.

Sofia had drawn a woman, presumably Olivia, judging by the long dark hair, with a baby in her arms. At the top of the page, another figure that looked like an angel spread its wings above them.

“That’s you and baby Abigail. Oh!” Sofia’s hand flew to her mouth. “I’m not supposed to talk about her. But I wanted you to have a picture so you could remember her.”

Darius winced. Why hadn’t he asked to see the drawing before she showed it to Olivia?

“It’s beautiful.” Olivia’s voice was strained. “And who is this?” She pointed to the angelic figure.

“That’s my mommy. She’s in heaven now. Daddy says she watches over me. So I asked her to watch over you and Abigail too.”

Darius’s throat slammed shut. His beautiful girl, with a heart the size of a western prairie, had meant well. He knelt beside her, his hand on her shoulder. “That’s a lovely thought, Mouse. I’m sure all God’s angels will watch over them.” He darted a glance at Olivia.

Her eyes remained focused on the picture while tears streamed down her face. His spirits plummeted to the dampness of the grass seeping through his pant leg. Ruth had asked him to help Olivia feel better, not to reduce her to tears again.

Olivia refolded the page. “Thank you, Sofia. I’ll put this up in my bedroom so I can see it every day.”

His daughter beamed at her, then darted off across the lawn, calling over her shoulder, “You need some swings in this yard for when all the babies grow up.”

Darius rolled his eyes and dropped to the bench beside her. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I thought bringing Sofia might cheer you up. I didn’t expect this.”

She wiped the back of her hand across her wet face. “Please don’t apologize. This is the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me. I love it.” A genuine smile emerged, and her eyes brightened.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” He handed her the flowers. “These are for you too.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” She buried her face in the blooms, inhaling deeply.

“It was the least I could do, especially after I bungled your marriage proposal.” He gave a tentative smile, hoping to discover how she felt about the whole situation. “Am I forgiven?”

She raised her head with a sigh. “There’s nothing to forgive. I was the one in the wrong. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Totally understandable, given the situation.” He squinted against the sun’s glare to watch Sofia, who was doing twirls on the lawn that made her dress billow out. “How would you feel about coming for a walk with Sofia and me to the park nearby?”

She hesitated for the briefest of seconds, then nodded. “I believe a walk might do me some good.”