Rescuing Mr. Gracey by Eileen K. Barnes

Author:Eileen K. Barnes [Barnes, Eileen K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-09-26T22:00:00+00:00

~ 20 ~

“‘My brave boys, you’re dead…’”

Mary wondered how she still lived without a heartbeat. The void, the abandonment—unexpected and hopeless—pressed down on her until she collapsed on the ground where he’d left her. She rolled into a ball and rocked for a full hour.

The fierce wind roused her, buffeting against her as if to urge her away. Never, not in the filthy heat of the fields, or the coldest winter without food, had she known this kind of desperation. Yet she must get up, go inside, continue on.

If only God would grant her a miracle so that she would not have to face her family tonight, she thought, lifting the latch to her hut.

No miracle occurred this night. Instead, excited smiles beamed at her.

“So, Mary. Shall we be talking to Father Morgan about posting marriage banns?” her mother asked. Her family laughed.

You must move on, move on…

“No, Mam.” Watery eyes found a crack in the hard-packed clay floor. If only she could shrink down and crawl into that dark space. “There won’t be any banns.”

Sounds of shock and fear banged off the rickety furniture, the mud walls, the empty cupboards. Tonight, the dream died for all of them. They, like she, had taken a leap of faith and believed it possible that a man like Mr. Alexander Jordan could enter Dolly’s Brae and not leave a path of destruction behind.

The oppressive crush of people, spinning with blurry shapes, caused her to cave inward. She brought her clenched hands to her face to hide the flood of silent tears.

Her mother rushed forward. “Oh, darlin’ girl, come and sit by the fire. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.” Folded against her mother’s breast, Mary gulped and shuddered.

Little Joe dived for Mary’s legs and hugged them as if to absorb her pain. “I sorre…I sorre, Mary.”

“Say the word, Mary, and me and Mr. Jordan will be having a word,” Patrick said, his fists ready.

“’Tis no’ his fault,” she mumbled.

Maureen stroked her head. Someone had wrapped her in a thin comforter. “An bhfuil aon imní ort. Beidh gach a bheith go maith.”

Mary’s chin quivered. “How, Mam? How will it be well again?” She swallowed the torrent of emotion that kept pushing out from her heart, begging for release. “He didn’t belong with us…with me,” she said bitterly. “We all knew he was an illusion, but he made it so easy to pretend.” Folding over, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “Doesn’t belong…”

Joseph lifted her within his sinewy arms and carried her to his chair as if she were a small child. Rocking her, he offered sips of ale. “There, there,” he said. “Tomorrow is Sunday, a day of rest. We shall attend Mass and look to the Lord to refresh our spirits from this grave disappointment.” He sighed, and she heard his own disappointment there. “We rarely understand the crosses that come our way, but know, in the end, good will come from them.”

He kissed her hair, then signaled for the family to pray a family rosary.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.