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“I’m sure your apple crisp will quickly become my favorite,” she said. The two looked at each other without speaking, but the message that passed between them brought joy to both.
“Well, now,” Martha said finally, “let’s get supper on the table.”
In a very few minutes the four were gathered for the meal. Harry said, “Take your usual place, son, and, Kyle, you sit here in this spot that has been vacant for too many years.”
Kyle accepted the seat and looked around her at her family. Her family. Harry reached out his hands, one to his daughter, one to his son, and Martha took their hands on the other side.
“I think we need to thank God for far more than our food today,” said Harry. “He has blessed us beyond our dreams. Our son”—he gave Joel’s hand a squeeze—“and our daughter”—he turned to Kyle—“are both here at our table.” His voice sounded husky. Kyle wondered if he would be able to continue. “Our family. Our whole family—together at last.”
Kyle could hear Martha sniffing. She choked back her own tears.
“Let’s thank God. Then let’s make the most of this very special day,” said Harry.
As Kyle bent her head to join in the prayer she felt a little nudge against her foot. She looked up to meet Joel’s eyes, misty but filled with joy. “Thanks, my sister,” he mouthed to her across the table. Kyle’s heart had never felt lighter.
24
KYLE STEPPED FROM THE TAXI, paid the fare, then stopped a moment to gaze down the long drive. Taking her time, she strolled through the gate, examining the lawns and the house with a fresh new eye. The day held a surprising warmth, as though trying to make up for the previous week’s hard frost. As Kyle approached the house, happy childhood memories flooded back. There had been some good times here. Her father’s love. The devoted care of the Ameses and the rest of the household staff. Even the training of her mother, though often misplaced and exaggerated, had not been wasted. In her mother’s own way, perhaps she had cared.
Not even the cloud of apprehension about what was coming could take away Kyle’s feeling of rightness, of renewal.
“Miss Kyle!” Her reverie was interrupted as a familiar figure took a long moment to rise from his work at the flower bed. “If you aren’t a sight for sore eyes!”
“Hello, Jim.” She hurried over and embraced the bent old man. “How are you?”
“Better, after that hug.” The old gardener cackled. “They keep thinking I’m gonna give up the ghost, and I keep surprising them.”
“Don’t you dare.” She took a step back, looked around her, and said, “The place looks wonderful—better than ever!”
“Yep, that’s the sign of a good garden. Tend it well and let it kinda grow into itself.” The lined face had grime worked deep into the folds, but the eyes were clear and the grin genuine. “You’re looking pretty good yourself.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “I’m doing just fine.”
“Glad to hear it. Been awful quiet around here without you.”
She glanced toward the house. The high stone edifice looked as regal and imposing as it had when she had been a small child.
“When you gonna bring that young feller of yours around?”
“Soon. I promise.”
The front door of the house was flung open and a portly lady in a faded kitchen apron hurried down the stairs. Jim cackled again. “Look at them old bones move, will you.”
“Kyle, oh, my baby, it’s been so long!” Maggie enfolded her in a warm embrace.
“Hello, Maggie. I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead, but—”
“This is your home, child. Why on earth would you need to call?” She held Kyle back at arm’s length. “You look absolutely marvelous.”
Kyle inspected the dear, familiar lines of her face, and the lump in her throat returned. “So do you, Maggie.”
“Oh, look at what I’ve done.” Maggie began brushing her off. “I’ve gotten flour on your beautiful jacket.”
“I’ll let you two get on with it. I’m sure I’d not get a word in edgewise,” Jim said with a twinkle, tipping his battered cap to the pair of them. “Come on out and chat with me ’fore you leave.”
“Come inside,” Maggie said, pulling her toward the door. “Bertrand has gone to the shops, but he won’t be long. How are you? Tell me all about your new family. I can’t wait to find out everything.”
“All right.” Kyle couldn’t help but smile at Maggie’s enthusiasm.
She entered the vast front foyer, looked around, and felt all the old memories surging up. But now she was able to push aside the old anxieties. She was not alone.
Maggie pointed toward the kitchen. “Come join me for a cup of tea.”
“Not just now, Maggie.” Kyle knew the purpose of her visit could be put off no longer. “How is Mother?”
The woman faltered a moment before replying, “She’s out on the veranda.”
“How is she, Maggie?”
The woman’s forehead creased. “It’s nothing I can put my finger on. But the past few days, it seems like all the starch has gone out of her.”
“Let me go talk with her. I’ll come in after and we can have a nice long chat.”
Maggie reached up and patted Kyle’s cheek. “You always were a good girl, a good daughter.”
Kyle felt a flutter around her heart. “Pray for me, Maggie. And pray for her.”
“I always have, child,” she replied, her eyes shining. “And I always will.”
“Kyle!” Abigail half rose from her seat, light springing into her eyes as one hand reached out toward the girl. Quickly she checked herself and settled back in the chair with an uneasy clearing of her throat. “Well, I was not expecting you,” she said in her usual controlled manner.
Kyle longed to rush to her mother, throw her arms around her as freely as she did with Martha, and sob out the long years of loneliness and hurt. But her mother’s return to formality kept her from it. “Hello, Mother.”
“I suppose you’ve come back to crow over me in triumph.”
“Oh, Mother.” Kyle mourned as she walked out on the veranda and pulled one of the heavy metal chairs up closer. “How are you?”
“How do you think?” Abigail answered sharply. “I am faced with watching everything I have spent my life trying to build be reduced to ashes.”
“Please, Mother. Nothing is going to be destroyed.” Kyle folded her hands in her lap, took a deep breath, and nestled within the gift of calm. Not even her racing heart could overwhelm her sense of being sheltered and guided. “I have not come here to gloat—or to argue.”
Her mother took the reading glasses off her nose and put them and her magazine on the table at her side. “Soon it’s all yours. All of it. I suppose you’re going to bring vengeance on us all.”
“Neither Kenneth nor I want vengeance in any way, Mother. He is an honorable, God-fearing man, and he will be directing the company. He will do what is right for us all.”
Her daughter’s calm seemed to leave Abigail even more rattled. “I hope you aren’t expecting me to crawl and beg. The house is mine. Mine, I tell you. Lawrence—”
“Of course it’s yours. I wouldn’t dream of trying to take anything from you. Most especially your home.”
Abigail’s gaze scattered across the back garden, and her finger nervously picked up her glasses, then laid them down again. “Well, you had better not have come down here expecting an apology. What I tried to do was the best thing for the company. And for you. You have no idea how to run a company.”
“No I don’t,” Kyle agreed. “But Kenneth does.”
“My own daughter,” Abigail interrupted. “Turning against me.”
“I haven’t turned against you, Mother. I’ve come to see you and find out how you are.”
“I thought you had gone to your other family,” Abigail retorted. “They have no money, no family heritage. But I guess you found that out for yourself. I told Randolf that you’d be back. I told him that you
’d soon discover that they couldn’t give you anything you didn’t already have.”
“But they did. The most worthwhile things that life can offer. Love. Acceptance. Family. I haven’t turned from them, Mother. I love them dearly and expect to spend a good deal of time with them in the future. I have come back because of you.”
“Me?”
“I’ve come here to say that I love you and I don’t hold anything against you.”
For once Abigail was brought to an astonished silence.
“If you want it, Mother, I forgive you.”
Abigail finally managed, “Forgive?”
“For everything.” The surge of love that flooded Kyle’s being was like a light descending from above, a power so strong it demanded that it be shared.
Kyle reached across the emotional chasm that had separated her from Abigail all their lives, even as her hand reached across the table and took the slim, trembling hand of her mother in her own. “I have discovered salvation, Mother, and the wonderful gift of forgiveness. God has forgiven me and expects me to hold no bitterness toward others. It is His gift, a gift of love that I want to share with you. I do love you, Mother. I truly do. God has filled my heart with a love that I cannot even explain. Please don’t turn it away. We have so much to share with each other. So much.”
There were no words forthcoming from Abigail. Kyle might have wondered if her offering was received had she not felt the clasp on her hand undeniably tighten.
Abigail was looking at her with a strange expression on her face. She gave a tight nod, then quickly said, “Well, don’t expect miracles.”
Kyle smiled softly and quietly replied, “Oh, but I do.”
DAVIS BUNN has been a professional novelist for twenty years. His books have sold in excess of six million copies in sixteen languages, appearing on numerous national bestseller lists.
Davis is known for the diversity of his writing talent, from gentle gift books like The Quilt to high-powered thrillers like The Great Divide. He has also enjoyed great success in his collaborations with Janette Oke, with whom he has co-authored a series of ground-breaking historical novels.
In developing his work, Davis draws on a rich background of international experience. Raised in North Carolina, he completed his undergraduate studies at Wake Forest University. He then traveled to London to earn a master’s degree in international economics and finance before embarking on a distinguished business career that took him to more than thirty countries in Europe, Africa, and the Middle East.
Davis has received numerous literary accolades, including three Christy Awards for excellence in fiction. He currently serves as Writer-in-Residence at Regent’s Park College, Oxford University, and is a sought-after lecturer on the craft of writing.
JANETTE OKE was born in Champion, Alberta, to a Canadian prairie farmer and his wife, and she grew up in a large family full of laughter and love. She is a graduate of Mountain View Bible College in Alberta, where she met her husband, Edward, and they were married in May of 1957. After pastoring churches in Indiana and Canada, the Okes spent some years in Calgary, where Edward served in several positions on college faculties while Janette continued her writing. She has written forty-eight novels for adults and another sixteen for children, and her book sales total nearly thirty million copies.
The Okes have three sons and one daughter, all married, and are enjoying their fifteen grandchildren. Edward and Janette are active in their local church and make their home near Didsbury, Alberta.
Books by Janette Oke and Davis Bunn
Return to Harmony • Another Homecoming
ACTS OF FAITH
The Centurion’s Wife • The Hidden Flame
The Damascus Way
SONG OF ACADIA
The Meeting Place • The Sacred Shore
The Birthright • The Distant Beacon
The Beloved Land
Books by Davis Bunn
The Book of Hours
The Great Divide
Winner Take All
The Lazarus Trap
Elixir
Imposter
All Through the Night
My Soul to Keep
HEIRS OF ACADA *
The Solitary Envoy • The Innocent Libertine
The Noble Fugitive • The Night Angel
Falconer’s Quest
* with Isabella Bunn
Books by Janette Oke
CANADIAN WEST
When Calls the Heart • When Comes the Spring
When Breaks the Dawn • When Hope Springs New
Beyond the Gathering Storm
When Tomorrow Comes
LOVE COMES SOFTLY
Love Comes Softy • Love’s Enduring Promise
Love’s Long Journey • Love’s Abiding Joy
Love’s Unending Legacy • Love’s Unfolding Dream
Love Takes Wing • Love Finds a Home
A PRAIRIE LEGACY
The Tender Years • A Searching Heart
A Quiet Strength • Like Gold Refined
SEASONS OF THE HEART
Once Upon a Summer • The Winds of Autumn
Winter Is Not Forever • Spring’s Gentle Promise
Seasons of the Heart (4 in 1)
WOMEN OF THE WEST
The Calling of Emily Evans • Julia’s Last Hope
Roses for Mama • A Woman Named Damaris
They Called Her Mrs. Doc • The Measure of a Heart
A Bride for Donnigan • Heart of the Wilderness
Too Long a Stranger • The Bluebird and the Sparrow
A Gown of Spanish Lace • Drums of Change
www.janetteoke.com
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
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About the Authors
Books by Authors
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