Courtney looked up to see Sarah Maitland standing in front of her. The fifty-something lady had her grey hair wound into a bun at the nape of her neck. She was wearing a bright red woolen coat that looked so festive it made Courtney’s heart ache. As the wife of Reverend Maitland of the First Baptist Church, Sarah was a familiar face in Sunday Service. Courtney could remember her visiting the cottage with Reverend Maitland two days after Shaun had died. Her words had been gentle and kind.
“I was just a little caught in my thoughts,” Courtney said, looking up. “I’m hoping the cool air might help.”
Sarah sat down on the bench, smoothing her coat beneath her. “I imagine this time of year is hard on you. Not that any time is easy when you’ve lost a loved one.”
Sarah thought she was thinking about Shaun? If only she knew. “It’s not so bad,” Courtney said, tipping her head to the side. “At least things are a little quieter at the farm this time of year. Plus we all have our health. There’s a lot to be thankful for.”
“It doesn’t always work that way though, does it?” Sarah asked softly. “Things like Thanksgiving and Christmas aren’t just reminders of the passing seasons, they’re reminders of what we have and what we’ve lost. Little pegs in the grounds of our lives.” She turned her head to catch Courtney’s gaze. “You look pale. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Courtney smiled grimly. “I’m fine. Just thinking about how to tell somebody something they don’t want to hear.”
Sarah laughed. “That one’s never easy. And nobody ever handles it the s
ame way. I’ve known people to dance around the truth for months. Years, even. And others to blurt things out before they’ve thought through the consequences.”
“Maybe there’s a middle way,” Courtney murmured.
“There usually is,” Sarah agreed. “But what I find the best way of all is to mix truth with empathy. Give them the space to digest what you’ve shared. Understand that their first response might not be their final one. But always know that the truth is what’s important. That’s the light that will see you through.”
She made it sound so simple. But right now the truth felt like a weapon. One that would stab Ellis and Mary in the heart, and explode its way through Logan’s life. As for her? Right now the truth felt like a burden. One that weighed heavily on her soul.
“There’s one other thing to remember,” Sarah said, taking Courtney’s hand and folding it in her own. “You have a right to have a life. And a good one, too. You’ve gone through something no young woman should have to go through. You’ve lost the man who was supposed to be by your side forever. But that doesn’t mean you have to mourn him for the rest of your life.” She smiled and it lit up her face. “You deserve happiness, Courtney. You’re a lovely, beautiful woman. Any man would be lucky to have you by his side. So if you’re sitting here worried about that, please don’t. God wants you to be happy, and I do, too.”
Tears prickled at Courtney’s eyes. Sarah’s words sounded so full of hope. And that’s what she wanted. Hope. A future. The light that would lead the way.
Is that what this baby was? Something hopeful? She glanced down at her still-flat stomach, covered with the padding of her coat.
Whatever happened, this baby was hers. He or she needed her. And she’d take care of it the way she’d taken care of everything else in her life. With a strong, fierce love that didn’t let the darkness in.
For the first time all day, a genuine smile pulled at her lips. She was having a baby. A new life. It wasn’t the way she’d envisioned becoming a mother. And she knew there would be so many obstacles along the way. But she was strong. She had a home and a job and she knew she could take care of this tiny little thing growing inside her.
She’d been alone for two years. She’d learned how to stand on her own two feet. She could run a farm, take care of her in-laws, and manage accounts that teetered ominously between black and red.
If she could do all that alone, then she could do this alone, too.
She took a deep breath and stood, turning to Sarah with that smile still on her face. “You’re right,” she said. “Maybe it’s time to make my own happiness.”
Sarah grinned. “It really is. And if you ever need anything, you know where I am. God welcomes everybody into his home. You don’t have to be perfect, because nobody is. You just have to be ready to love.”
And she was ready to love. Courtney knew that. Maybe that was enough for now.
Chapter Nine
“So how’s it going?” Cam asked Logan as he slid a pint glass of water onto the table in front of his twin. Not needing to keep in peak condition, Logan had bought a beer for himself. It was a rare day when Cam wasn’t playing a game or at practice, and they’d arranged to meet up for a drink near his home.
“It’s good.” Logan lifted the beer to his lips and swallowed a mouthful, lifting his brows at his mirror-image sitting in the chair opposite. Logan missed seeing his brother, but this time of year was crazy for them both. It had been at least a month since they’d last met up. “I saw your game on Sunday. That play you made was amazing.”
Cam shrugged, taking a sip of the water. “The other team was crap. Aunt Gina could have won against them.” He turned to the left as a fan walked up and asked for a selfie, the corner of his lip lifting into a half-grin as the man hunkered down and angled the phone toward them. “Hey,” he said. “Can you do me a favor and post it once we’re gone? I haven’t had a chance to talk to my brother for a while and I’d like to keep it here on the down low.”
“Sure.” The fan nodded rapidly, his face glowing as if Cam had just shared a deep secret with him.
“Thanks, man.” Cam shook his hand, then pulled his attention back to Logan as the man left. “So how’s the restaurant coming along? You got a completion date yet?”
“January twenty-third as long as we pass the inspection.”
“Man, that sucks. I know you were hoping to get it opened before Christmas.”
Logan shrugged. He’d long since come to terms with losing out on the lucrative holiday income. They’d been stuck in the seventh circle of zoning board hell for weeks. “Ah, it gives us more time to make everything perfect. Opening in December would be a nightmare. Half the people we’d want to invite for opening would be busy, and hiring staff at this short notice would be almost impossible.” He swallowed another mouthful of beer. “You think you’ll be around for opening night?”