broke.
“Flynn?” Her eyes opened, and she looked around. “Flynn!”
Abby took her hand. “He’s gone, honey.”
Maggie shut her eyes. “I remember. I tried to follow him, but there was blackness all around him.”
Abby hesitated. “You had a fever.”
The wagon lurched and jolted as they descended the western side of the mountain.
Maggie shut her eyes and held on. She heard music and laughter, and her pain slid closer. She gritted her teeth and forced it away.
Three days later, they arrived at Ben’s ranch. Maggie stared at the small house as if she had never seen it before. She let Ben help her down and walked stiffly into the house.
Emma took her arm. “Would you like me to make a bed for you down here, Maggie?”
Maggie shook her head. She walked up the stairs to the room they had given Flynn when he lost his leg. She sank wearily onto the edge of the bed and sat there until Emma called her down for supper. She forced herself to eat. She couldn’t taste her food. She was utterly numb.
When supper was over, Maggie climbed the stairs and lay down on the narrow bed. She lay awake, staring into the darkness.
* * *
Morning came. Maggie still lay in the bed without moving. She felt nothing, not even hunger. The sun rose, and still she lay there.
Finally, Emma opened the door. She sat on the edge of Maggie’s bed. “I know how you feel, Maggie. You feel as if life isn’t worth living.”
“It isn’t!” Maggie’s hands curled into fists. “My baby is dead, and Flynn left me!”
Emma nodded. “Ben left me for three years after our last child died. He just packed up and left. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t write. I didn’t know if he was alive or dead. And then he came back.” She smiled sadly. “I almost didn’t let him into the house.” She shook her head. “I stood in the doorway with my shotgun aimed at his chest.”
“What happened?”
Emma smoothed Maggie’s hair. “I remembered that I loved him.” Color touched her cheeks. “And now we have Jessica.”
Maggie’s throat tightened. “Please, Emma, don’t.”
Emma turned and faced her. “You’re not ready to feel your grief yet. I understand. It took me a long time to grieve, but you will, child. You will. And when you do, please let me help you. I’ve been through this three times, and I can help you get through it, too.”
Maggie shut her eyes. She rolled over with her face to the wall.
That night, Maggie dreamed of her parents’ death. They fought, and she couldn’t stop them. Michael struck Lucy, and she fell, striking her head against a crate. Her blood ran across the floor of the wagon. Michael cried out in anguish. He grabbed his shotgun. His finger squeezed the trigger.
“No!” Maggie sat up. Her face was wet with tears, and her throat was raw from screaming. She waited for Flynn to come, but he didn’t.
Maggie shut her eyes. “I need you, Flynn,” she whispered. “I need you.”
Emma knocked on her door and opened it. “Are you all right?”
Maggie nodded. “I just had a nightmare.”
She heard the sound of Emma’s footsteps as she walked back to her room. She heard the rumble of Ben’s voice. Envy stabbed her, as sharp as Romeo’s dagger.
But she pushed her pain away and held on.
* * *
Day followed day, and Maggie remained listless. She spent most of her time in bed.
Then, one morning, she heard Sam’s voice. “Where is she?”
“Upstairs, Sam.”
Maggie heard her father’s footsteps on the stairs. He knocked on the door.
Tears filled her eyes. “Go away!”
The door swung open, and Sam filled it, not just with his body, but with the force of his personality. “Maggie O'Brien Anders Flynn, I’m ashamed of you!”
Maggie blinked. “But—”
He came over to the bed and pulled her out of bed. “I expected better than this from
“Flynn?” Her eyes opened, and she looked around. “Flynn!”
Abby took her hand. “He’s gone, honey.”
Maggie shut her eyes. “I remember. I tried to follow him, but there was blackness all around him.”
Abby hesitated. “You had a fever.”
The wagon lurched and jolted as they descended the western side of the mountain.
Maggie shut her eyes and held on. She heard music and laughter, and her pain slid closer. She gritted her teeth and forced it away.
Three days later, they arrived at Ben’s ranch. Maggie stared at the small house as if she had never seen it before. She let Ben help her down and walked stiffly into the house.
Emma took her arm. “Would you like me to make a bed for you down here, Maggie?”
Maggie shook her head. She walked up the stairs to the room they had given Flynn when he lost his leg. She sank wearily onto the edge of the bed and sat there until Emma called her down for supper. She forced herself to eat. She couldn’t taste her food. She was utterly numb.
When supper was over, Maggie climbed the stairs and lay down on the narrow bed. She lay awake, staring into the darkness.
* * *
Morning came. Maggie still lay in the bed without moving. She felt nothing, not even hunger. The sun rose, and still she lay there.
Finally, Emma opened the door. She sat on the edge of Maggie’s bed. “I know how you feel, Maggie. You feel as if life isn’t worth living.”
“It isn’t!” Maggie’s hands curled into fists. “My baby is dead, and Flynn left me!”
Emma nodded. “Ben left me for three years after our last child died. He just packed up and left. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t write. I didn’t know if he was alive or dead. And then he came back.” She smiled sadly. “I almost didn’t let him into the house.” She shook her head. “I stood in the doorway with my shotgun aimed at his chest.”
“What happened?”
Emma smoothed Maggie’s hair. “I remembered that I loved him.” Color touched her cheeks. “And now we have Jessica.”
Maggie’s throat tightened. “Please, Emma, don’t.”
Emma turned and faced her. “You’re not ready to feel your grief yet. I understand. It took me a long time to grieve, but you will, child. You will. And when you do, please let me help you. I’ve been through this three times, and I can help you get through it, too.”
Maggie shut her eyes. She rolled over with her face to the wall.
That night, Maggie dreamed of her parents’ death. They fought, and she couldn’t stop them. Michael struck Lucy, and she fell, striking her head against a crate. Her blood ran across the floor of the wagon. Michael cried out in anguish. He grabbed his shotgun. His finger squeezed the trigger.
“No!” Maggie sat up. Her face was wet with tears, and her throat was raw from screaming. She waited for Flynn to come, but he didn’t.
Maggie shut her eyes. “I need you, Flynn,” she whispered. “I need you.”
Emma knocked on her door and opened it. “Are you all right?”
Maggie nodded. “I just had a nightmare.”
She heard the sound of Emma’s footsteps as she walked back to her room. She heard the rumble of Ben’s voice. Envy stabbed her, as sharp as Romeo’s dagger.
But she pushed her pain away and held on.
* * *
Day followed day, and Maggie remained listless. She spent most of her time in bed.
Then, one morning, she heard Sam’s voice. “Where is she?”
“Upstairs, Sam.”
Maggie heard her father’s footsteps on the stairs. He knocked on the door.
Tears filled her eyes. “Go away!”
The door swung open, and Sam filled it, not just with his body, but with the force of his personality. “Maggie O'Brien Anders Flynn, I’m ashamed of you!”
Maggie blinked. “But—”
He came over to the bed and pulled her out of bed. “I expected better than this from
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