She choked back a sob. “There were so many things I was wrong about. I’m sorry, Mama. I never thanked you properly for everything you did for me. For all of us. And now that Granddad’s gone, I’m afraid I’m not good enough to fill either of your shoes. I feel lost.”
Admitting it out loud made the burden on her shoulders lighter . . . but the ache worse.
She couldn’t fault Mama for loving her dad. For seeing the good in him. That took a special person, someone who had an enormous heart and offered grace and forgiveness. Things she didn’t excel at.
Many days, she’d pleaded with God to make her more compassionate and fun loving like Havyn. More merciful and positive like Madysen. More gracious like Mama.
But she was simply Whitney. Strong-willed. Stubborn. Hard.
Broken and lost.
Where did that leave her? Havyn and Madysen were both married. She wouldn’t change that for anything. John and Daniel were great men. She loved having brothers now too. But Dad had come back, bringing Eli and Bethany—his new family—and the distance in her heart grew.
Oh, her sisters never left her out of anything. But Whit hadn’t shared with them what was going on in her heart and mind the past few months. They thought her quiet moods were because of the attack.
But she had much more to heal from than just Garrett Sinclair. Admitting it felt wrong. Like she was betraying herself. But she was too weary to try to cover it up anymore.
Tears dripped down her face. “Oh, Mama . . . I wish you were here.” A sob caught in her throat.
The snow crunched behind her, and she swallowed against the overwhelming grief, swiping at her cheeks. Whitney turned to see Ruth headed her way.
At least she didn’t dislike Ruth anymore. What had started out as an awkward relationship between them, since she was Dad’s new wife’s sister, had turned into a timid friendship.
“Hi.” Ruth’s cheeks were pink. It made her look young and vibrant. She stayed outside the fence and leaned over it. “I’m so sorry to hear about Chuck.”
Whitney took one last glance at the cross.
“I’m sorry, Whitney. I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll head back and wait for you back at the house. Or maybe I’ll go visit your dogs—”
She held up a hand. “No reason to apologize. I’ll walk back with you.” Whitney climbed back over the fence and forced every bit of emotion back into her heart. She was the strong one. Right? “It’s hard to believe. I don’t know if I’ve been able to process it yet. That’s why I came up here to talk to Mama. Which probably sounds silly, but I miss her more than I can say.”
Ruth stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug.
It wasn’t as good as being hugged by her mother, but it soothed the cracked places in her heart she hadn’t even realized were there. But she couldn’t give them attention. Pulling back, she stiffened her shoulders and put on the mask she’d become all too accustomed to wearing.
“Pastor Wilson and Mr. Norris brought me out since Chris was already here. He came early to finish the coffin for Chuck.” Ruth linked arms with her. “I know they are here to help with the plans for the funeral. But I wanted to tell you . . . anything you need me to do, I’m here. Just say the word.”
“Thank you.” The words were easy enough to say, but they were empty.
They hiked through the snow down the hill toward the house. Smoke puffed from the large chimney in the center of their home. The place that Granddad had designed and built for them. It was the most amazing house. Had she ever told him how much it meant to her? How much he meant to her?
“Losing your grandfather so soon after your mother must be devastating. How are doing? Have you eaten? Slept?”
Whitney waved her off. “I’m doing all right.” A tiny part of her ached to talk about it, longed to tear down the walls around her heart and be seen, but she wasn’t ready. Not yet. Maybe not ever. “How’s the search for Stan going?” Ruth’s husband had been missing for a long time.
Ruth shook her head. “Whitney Powell. You’re trying to change the subject.” The look in her eyes was full of compassion. “But I won’t push. Whenever you need to talk, I’ll be here. It’s a promise.”
“I appreciate that. I do.” But she had to get the conversation off of her. “And Stan? Any news?”
“No news. Sadly. Every time we think there’s a lead or some bit of news, it goes nowhere. Chris is trying to keep my spirits up, but I’ve resigned myself to hearing the news that Stan is gone.” She sighed. “I guess it’s easier to guard my hopes and my heart. The longer he’s gone, the more I have to face that reality. One day, I’ll have to tell my children, and that’s the day I don’t look forward to.”
“I’m sorry, Ruth. Truly, I am. I know you must miss your children something fierce.” The woman had left them with her mother back in Colorado while she came to Alaska to find her husband. How she handled the separation was beyond Whitney’s comprehension.
“You understand loss and heartache better than anyone else. Time away from my children is much harder than I imagined, even though I know they are in excellent hands with my mother. But I haven’t heard their voices in far too long . . . haven’t been able to hug them. Watch them grow.” She put a hand to her throat. “It’s even harder to have no news on Stan. I don’t know why . . . but I thought if I came up here that I could help find him. That I would know where he was, that I could feel him somehow. But instead . . . I feel nothing. And it’s heartbreaking. Does that even make sense?”
Whitney pressed her lips together. “It does.”
“I don’t mean to burden you with more, Whitney. Please forgive me. You of all people understand the constant bad news. How it’s easier to steel yourself for the next blow. You must have felt like you were walking on eggshells for months now. Waiting for something else to happen.”
Amazing how Ruth could put it into words. “It’s been the hardest year of my life.”
“Just remember that you have a friend here, all right? I know you have your sisters, but I’ve seen how difficult it has been for you to be strong and be the oldest while the others are married. It must be lonely for you.”
Lonely was never a word that she would have used to describe herself. Never.
A loving family with lots of laughter and music had surrounded her for her whole life. There were moments she ached to have time to herself, so she could get her thoughts straight. But now . . . now she wished it back. For her family to be intact again. For Madysen to be twirling around the parlor with some fanciful idea in her head, excited to share the joy. For Havyn to come in and chatter with one of her chicken stories. For Mama to play the piano and try to wrangle them into practicing at the same tempo.
For Granddad to be sitting in his chair, his face beaming, clapping his hands and telling them that his girls were the most talented in the world.
Why hadn’t she treasured and appreciated those times while she had them? Why couldn’t she understand this big hole left behind? Nothing seemed right. Or normal. Or okay.
“Whitney?” Ruth’s voice stopped her in her tracks. “Are you all right?”
They were already back to the house. Funny, she hadn’t even paid attention to where she was walking. “I’m fine.”