Joyce set Eliza down and came to stand next to him. She looked through the window to where he was pointing. “I do.”
“Lizzie and I used to picnic in that very spot. She made the best sandwiches I’ve ever eaten. They were always delicious and made just the way I like them. She never forgot anything. She always knew what I liked.”
Joyce pressed her lips together. His voice was so sad. His eyes gazed mournfully down to the patch of grass before sliding out over the rest of the land that could be seen. “We went for many walks down there in the garden and around the land here.”
“How long had you been married to her?”
“I had her for six very short years,” he replied.
Joyce suppressed a sigh. The woman had died almost two years previous. Tom’s heart was stuck in the past. “Tom, why did you call me here?”
Tom lowered his head, and she could see he was ashamed. Her heart ached for him. She put one hand on his shoulder, glancing back to see that Eliza had pulled herself up on the bed and was rolling around on it, pulling the blanket along with her. Tom noticed as well and smiled softly. His love for his daughter was plainly written on his face. For Joyce, that was all she needed.
“I’m not angry, Tom. Please tell me why you brought me here.”
“I…I need to make some changes. I need to…let go.”
“I’m glad you feel that way, Tom.” Joyce kept her voice very soft and was glad when he looked down directly into her eyes. “I think you’re right. You’ve been in mourning long enough. You must try to think about your daughter. If, for any reason, you should because she is a part of Lizzie. You even gave her a name that would honor her mother. The Bible itself says that we may mourn for a while, but that rejoicing comes in the morning. If you look at your little girl, how can you not rejoice in the fact that she is here? God gave you a piece of Lizzie to hold on to and love forever. He called His daughter home, would you really want to deny Lizzie of that wonderful blessing? Would you want her back here where there is pain, unhappiness and tears? I know you don’t.”
Tom shook his head but said nothing. He was listening to her, so she continued.
“I know you loved her with all your heart, and she probably felt the same way about you. If she did, she wouldn’t want you to feel this way forever. She would want you to let go and live your life and be happy. Especially so that you can take good care of Ellie.”
“I like that you call her ‘Ellie.' It’s fitting for this little light.”
“Yes, I agree. And you don’t want to really be reminded each time you call your daughter, at least not until you’ve become strong enough to accept the loss of someone you loved so much. You need to show Ellie that through the death of her mother, you have found a fresh respect for life. You can’t drag in the mud forever. She needs to see you happy. She needs to see you.”
“You are such a good woman, Joyce. I am so glad you came here. God must have sent you to me.”
“Tom, I know it’s going to take you some time still to pull out of your grief. But you can do it. And I will help you.”
“You are a beautiful woman.”
Joyce blushed. “Thank you.”
“I don’t just mean on the outside, I mean on the inside, too.”
“I must admit I was thinking about leaving and going back to Virginia at first. I was very much contemplating it.”
“It’s natural you would feel that way. I lied to you. Well, I didn’t admit to the truth, did I? I just…I just couldn’t take a chance that the only response I got to my ad would not come because of my sadness and my little baby girl.”
Joyce licked her lips and moved closer to him. She put one hand up on his chest, and he put his hand over hers. “I will not leave you, Tom, if I can help it. You can’t stay in mourning forever. You must pursue happiness. You can’t expect it to just come to you.”
He nodded. “In this case, I think it did. You have come. You will help me feel better. I am blessed to have you. So is Ellie.”
“God has blessed us both, Tom. He gave us both what we didn’t know we needed.”
THE END
The Expectation of Love – A Clean Western Historical Romance
All things seemed possible with love.
This was the admittedly sentimental but nonetheless overpowering notion that struck the mind of Amy Phillips. She strode gracefully and freely between two rows of golden corn; walking with the same light and joyful steps that had guided her movements a year before, when she’d strode down a flower-strewn aisle to meet and mate with the man who now awaited her at the border of their field.