Always You by Jennifer Rodewald

Author:Jennifer Rodewald [Rodewald, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rooted Publishing
Published: 2020-03-03T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

(in which Matt invites Lauren for Thanksgiving)

Transformation nearly complete. Thank You, Lord.

Lauren sank onto the cushions of the wood and leather sofa, inhaling the mingling scents of Pine-Sol, wood polish, fresh paint, vinegar, and a touch of crisp apple a la the diffuser she’d plugged in at five.

Five. That’d been over six hours before, when she’d made her way up the becoming-well-used trail from the main lodge to the original house after her early supper. It’d become habit over the past fourteen days, as she wasn’t about to let Matt work on this massive reno/clean-up project on his own, not after the stumble she’d taken that had made the project necessary.

In her mind, she’d dubbed this home Together, with Love, a title that had come easily to her after Emma had entrusted her with the sacred story of its purpose and later neglect.

“Harold had a son. Stephen.” Emma settled onto a stool beside Lauren, sliding a mug of cider toward her before wrapping both hands around her own warm drink. “He was going to take over the lodge so that Harold could focus on caring for Jane during her battle with cancer. The plan had been beautiful and a testament to the way Harold and Jane had functioned as a family. Together, with love. But then there was an accident.

“Stephen and his wife were coming back from a trip, traveling a country highway, when an oncoming car crossed the double yellows. They were hit head on. No one survived. Texting. The other driver had been texting.

“Harold and Jane were devastated, and worse, as they grieved their only child, Jane’s health worsened. She died a year, almost to the day, after their son.

“Harold closed the house and the cabin he’d commissioned for Stephen and his wife. He moved into the first-floor apartment, and to my knowledge, hasn’t stepped foot in the home where he’d raised his son and lost his wife.”

Lauren sat in stunned, grieving silence, blinking against warm moisture. So tragic. Why would God allow such heartache to touch a man like Harold Appleton? Instead of voicing that unknowable question, she turned her thoughts back to Emma.

“So sad,” she whispered. “They were close, weren’t they?”

Emma nodded, her tears slipping unchecked. “Very close.”

“And I would suspect Stephen was a good man, like his dad.”

“He was. A good man. A good husband.” Emma choked on that last word.

Suddenly, Lauren knew Emma’s connection to Harold Appleton went much deeper than long-standing employment. “And you, Emma? Were you close to Stephen as well?”

Expression crumbling into soul-deep sorrow, Emma nodded. Her shoulders shook silently, and then she sniffed. “He married my daughter, Lauren. And they were very happy.”

The blade had become double edged, and Lauren could not help the quivering of her own chest as the tears flowed freely. Where there were no words, there was presence. She slipped off her stool and cradled the woman at her side.

“They loved this place. That home. That cabin.” After a time, Emma withdrew from Lauren’s arms and then gripped her hands.

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