Last Bridge Home by Johansen Iris

Author:Johansen, Iris [Johansen, Iris]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Relationships, Man-Woman Relationships, Widows, Political, Contemporary, Emotions, General, Romance, Historical, Fiction, Love Stories
ISBN: 9780553298710
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1986-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

ELIZABETH DROVE PAST THE WHITE BARN THAT had the feed advertisement on its sloped roof.

Home. Soon. The Burma Shave signs no longer lined the road, but the familiar red silo was still visible just ahead. Thank heavens some things stayed the same, she thought. How she needed to feel a sense of continuity and tranquillity now. After she drove past the silo, and rumbled over the covered bridge, the cottage came into view.

Andrew stirred in the restraint chair, and she cast him a quick glance. She knew he had been awake for the entire journey and was pleased at how good he’d been. “It’s all right, love. We’re almost home.”

She spoke the comforting words as much for herself as for Andrew. Everything would be fine; the pain would go away and sanity would return. All she needed was to spend time in familiar surroundings. Time had dulled her pain after her mother and father had died, it had soothed her when she had lost Mark. Surely time would work the same magic on the raw agony she was experiencing now. Jon was virtually a stranger to her after all. She should be able to forget she had almost fallen in love with him.

Almost. No, she wouldn’t lie to herself. She had loved Jon Sandell. Why else would she be going through hellish agony at the realization that he had been using her for his own purposes? Lies. So many lies and a preposterous story…

She pulled into the driveway in front of the cottage, and sighed with relief. She turned off the ignition and unstrapped Andrew from the infant seat. Home.

Forty-five minutes later Andrew was freshly diapered, fed, and comfortably settled for his nap on her big bed.

She was sorry she had completed the small tasks. When she was busy, she didn’t have time to think. Now she had nothing to do, and she was as confused as she’d been on the long drive home from the lodge.

She wandered to the window and looked down at the stream below. The water wasn’t frozen yet, but it looked icy and cold under the iron-gray sky. She shivered. Her entire world was cold now. Only a few hours before she had been surrounded by warmth and love and … No, it had been a lie.

She reached toward the switch on the wall that activated the paddle wheel and turned it on. The old oak wheel shuddered at first, and then began to turn slowly, shedding its blanket of snow as it dipped into the cold water of the stream. How Mark had loved to hear the sound of the paddles hitting the water. Mark. The letter.

She turned away from the window and picked up her navy coat which she had tossed on the rocking chair when she had walked into the room. Was the letter really from Mark, or had Jon lied about that too? she wondered. She pulled the letter out from the pocket of her coat. Her name was written in Mark’s familiar, precise script on the front of the envelope.

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