[Desert Roses 02] - Across the Years (3 page)

Ashley had tried to at least get her father to relay what had happened, but something had changed in him. It was almost as if her father’s entire demeanor had taken on a different personality. He was no longer the man she could talk to.

Feeling isolated from her family and tired of dealing with her mother’s misery, Ashley had been easily won over by Ethan Reynolds’s winning charm. Within weeks of meeting, Ashley had married Ethan, furthering the disorder of her mother’s once perfectly ordered world. Then Ethan died, and Ashley had wanted to die as well.

Natalie and Grandpa had given her a will to live—they’d made her happy in spite of her loss. And until now, life had been as close to perfect as it could be.

Ashley raised her head and drew a deep breath. She blew it out rather quickly and drew another. The action seemed to calm her a bit.

“Why can’t things go on as they always have?” she asked in the silence of her room. “Why must I lose the people I love?”

CHAPTER TWO

A week later Ashley sat across the table from her grandfather. She listened to him read from a list of wishes he had for his funeral. It wasn’t at all what she wanted to hear. In fact, Grandpa had been feeling better the last few days, and Ashley liked to believe the doctor was wrong and that he had nothing more terminally wrong than a bout of old age.

“I don’t want a lot of fancy flowers,” Russell Whitman said firmly. “Never could abide that kind of nonsense. If you want to give me flowers, do it now. That’s my motto.” He looked up and grinned at Ashley, his gray mustache twitching in boyish charm. “Frankly, I’d rather have candy than flowers any day.”

Ashley smiled. He had a way about him that always managed to make her see the hope in every situation. He was just that kind of man. His spiritual walk made him that way, she supposed.

“All right, so when I go shopping, I’ll bring you a box of the best chocolates,” Ashley finally answered, attempting to change the topic.

“Make sure they have nuts in them,” her grandfather said with a wink before turning his attention back to the list. “Now, about the burial.”

So much for giving reality the slip.

“I want to be buried next to your grandma back in Los Angeles. The lawyer will have all the information about that and make the arrangements. Don’t be thinking you have to have a service here and there. Just have one here, put me in a box on the train, and ship me off.”

“I wish you wouldn’t talk so casually about such things,” Ashley said, feeling a chill run along her spine.

Russell reached out and patted Ashley’s folded hands. “But such things only deserve casual reference. I won’t be in that box—you know that, don’t you, child?”

Ashley knew he’d speak to her again of Jesus and heaven, but for once she didn’t mind. Maybe she’d have some peace about her grandfather’s dying if only she could make herself believe that God really cared—that He understood her pain. But if He understood, truly knew how she felt and yet did nothing, then that made it even worse.

“I don’t know what I believe,” she said frankly. “I think it rather cruel of God to give me the man of my dreams—the one great love of my life—and then take him away. Take him before his own child could ever get to know him—before he could get to know her. I think God is merciless at worst, or indifferent at best, to take you away now.”

“So God is cruel and awful because He allows for death? Is that it?”

Ashley considered his words for a moment, then met her grandfather’s hazel-eyed stare with determination. “Yes. I suppose that’s exactly what I mean.”

“But what if one person’s death means other people live?” he asked softly. “And what if those who live go on to do profound and wondrous things—things that reach out to the rest of the world and inspire them to do something even better?”

“I’ve heard all this before,” Ashley protested. “I know what’s preached—that Jesus died to save us from our sins. One man’s sacrifice for the masses. Which just proves my point. God let His own Son die a brutal death.”

“I wasn’t thinking of Jesus just then,” her grandfather said softly. “I was thinking of your Ethan.”

Ashley felt the wind go out of her. “Ethan?”

Russell nodded. “Ethan gave his life, throwing himself into the path of certain death, in order to save a unit of men. That much you know. But what you don’t know is where it went from there. These things always have a rippling action, like a stone thrown into the water. Ethan saved lives, and perhaps those men in turn went on to save other lives and so on. Perhaps Ethan’s sacrifice was the very turning point of the war. You have no way of knowing. Perhaps your daughter is living
safe and free from the horrors that we heard about during the war because of Ethan and what he did.”

Ashley said nothing. She had always seen her husband as a hero, had taught her daughter the same, but in truth she’d never considered how it might affect anyone else. In her own self-focused pain, she’d never really cared about the benefit to others.

“You’re right, child, about Jesus sacrificing His life for the multitudes. But God wasn’t cruel in sending His Son. He was generous and self-sacrificing. We believe God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are one. God gave of himself—don’t you see? Jesus’ death and resurrection continue to ripple out amongst the masses and make profound changes in lives everywhere. He came to serve—to be a sin offering in order that those who deserved to die might live. Jesus gave His life, and in turn, I accepted His gift. He saved my life as clearly as Ethan saved those men in the war. Because Jesus saved me, I became a different person, and because of that, I was available to help you when your time of need came. Ripples—don’t you see? Jesus gave us a gift of eternal life. Ethan gave a gift of life to his men. Why can you accept one sacrifice and not the other?”

Ashley had no answer. The words pricked her conscience as they never had before. Grandpa had never used Ethan in an illustration about salvation.
It’s not the same,
she told herself.
Ethan did his duty. He went where he was sent and followed the orders given him. He had no choice.

But as soon as the thought came to light, she chided herself, knowing full well that this wasn’t true. He had a choice. A choice to stay in his trench or to go after the enemy who was killing his friends and comrades.

“I need to get to work on the laundry,” Ashley said, getting to her feet. “You should rest for now.”

“I can’t rest. The pain is too great,” he admitted.

“I have the morphine powder,” Ashley offered. “I can mix some up.”

“
That won’t help this pain,” her grandfather said, folding his papers. “My pain is over you, and I won’t be able to rest until I know you have come to an understanding of the Lord and how much He loves you.” He stood, folded the papers into his pocket, then shuffled across the room in a slow, determined manner. “You think on what I’ve said.”

Ashley did think on his words, but if her grandfather had known exactly why she’d chosen to do so, he wouldn’t have liked it. Ashley knew Grandpa held great store in his faith and the issues that came out of that faith. He wanted very much for her to believe—to accept the things he’d come to accept.

“Maybe I can do this for his sake,” she said softly as she put another dress through the washer wringer. Squeezing the water from the material, Ashley contemplated what she should do.

“Maybe I could just tell him that I’ve accepted Jesus and repented of my sins and then he’ll be happy,” she murmured. What could be wrong in that? God would know the truth, so it wouldn’t be like she was fooling Him. And Grandpa would die in peace.

Still, lying about something so important to Grandpa didn’t seem right. Grandpa had always been able to pretty much read her like a book. Ashley couldn’t abide that he was hurting and suffering because of her pride, but should she go to such extremes to make him feel better? Wiping her brow, she sighed. “I just don’t know how to deal with this.”

****

Natalie fiddled with her food, glancing from time to time down the hall to Grandpa Whitman’s closed bedroom door. “He never eats with us anymore,” she murmured.

Ashley poured some milk into Natalie’s glass and took a seat opposite her daughter at the small oak table. “I know. He doesn’t feel well enough to eat.”

“But wouldn’t food make him feel stronger? Doesn’t he want to get well?”

Ashley knew the time had come to tell her daughter about the illness that would soon take her beloved great-grandfather. “Natalie, you know that Grandpa isn’t a young man anymore. The doctor says that this sickness is too strong for an old man to fight. Grandpa probably isn’t going to get well.” She threw in the word
probably,
hoping to soften the blow.

Natalie put down her fork and stared down the hall. “He’s going to die?”

Sorrow gripped Ashley’s heart. “Yes.”

“When . . . when will he . . . die?” Her voice quivered.

Ashley steadied herself with a deep breath. “Soon. The doctor said it wouldn’t be very long.”

Natalie’s face contorted as she appeared to fight her emotions. “Does it hurt?”

Ashley saw her daughter’s eyes dampen with unshed tears. “He’s in some pain, but the doctor has given me medicine to help Grandpa. It should help keep the pain down.”

“Will it hurt to die?”

Ashley hadn’t anticipated the question. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“I wish he didn’t have to die.” The tears streamed down her cheeks. “I wish the people we loved didn’t have to die . . . like Daddy and now Grandpa.”

The mention of Ethan only served to multiply Ashley’s pain. Why did it still have to hurt so much after all this time? It seemed that Grandpa’s dying only served to reopen those old wounds. “We will miss him. Probably more than we realize.”

Natalie scooted out of her chair and came to her mother. Ashley hugged her close and then drew Natalie onto her lap. “I wish you didn’t have to hurt, sweet pea. I wish neither one of us had to hurt ever again.”

“I try to be strong, Mama. I try to remember that God loves all of us and that He knows best. Grandpa said that just last week.”

Ashley knew her daughter shared Grandpa Whitman’s faith. She’d watched Natalie get baptized in Clear Creek just last year.
The child seemed to have a profound grasp of the spiritual and yet, here she was, just a little girl saddened by the events of her life. Ashley wished she could kiss away the hurt and make it better.

Ashley smoothed back her daughter’s light brown hair. How baby fine and soft it was, even now after years of rough-and-tumble play. “At least by knowing that Grandpa is going to die, we can say all the things that are really important. Some people never get to do that,” Ashley offered.

“Like with you and Daddy?” Natalie questioned, rising up. “You never got to tell him about me.”

A tightness formed in Ashley’s throat and seemed to settle down over her chest. She strained to breathe and found it nearly painful. “Yes. That’s true.”

“Then I suppose it’s better this way,” Natalie said, sounding very adult. She hugged Ashley’s neck once more, then hopped up and went back to her chair. The child sat in silence for a few minutes. She dried her eyes with the linen napkin, then questioned her mother. “Does Grandpa know?”

Ashley nodded. “Yes. He’s probably suspected for a lot longer than any of us figured, but he knows the truth of it now.”

“Is he afraid?”

“I don’t think so, Natalie. I think he trusts that God has it all under control.”

“Do you think that’s true?” Natalie asked, her dark brown eyes wide with wonder.

Ashley felt trapped. She didn’t want to discourage the one thing she knew Natalie would find solace in—her faith. Real or imagined, Ashley wanted her daughter to know the comfort and peace that Grandpa Whitman seemed to have. “Yes, Natalie. I’m sure God has it all under control. We just don’t always understand why God does things the way He does.” That much was true, Ashley realized. She did think God was in control. She just didn’t think He was very fair or kind.

“Will you go to church with me after Grandpa is gone to heaven?” Natalie questioned.

Ashley studied the hopeful look on her daughter’s face. It seemed she hung all her hopes on that one question. “I might even go with you before then,” Ashley said, making up her mind that she would do whatever was necessary to put both her daughter and grandfather at peace through this dying process.

Natalie smiled. “I know that would make Grandpa feel better. Every Sunday we pray you’ll come with us.”

The wonder of that statement buried itself deep into Ashley’s heart. “You do?”

Natalie nodded and picked up her fork. “Grandpa said if we prayed long and hard, God would bring it to pass.” She looked rather thoughtfully at the food on her plate before raising her gaze again to her mother. “Do you think it’s wrong for me to pray that God would send me a daddy?”

The statement completely stunned Ashley, who had never heard her daughter make such a comment. “I . . . well . . . I don’t know.”

Natalie smiled. “Well, I’m going to pray about it, and I’m going to talk to Grandpa too. He’ll know. He might be sick, but he’ll know if it’s okay to pray about it.”

Ashley pushed away from the table. She couldn’t take any more of the religious battle that raged inside of her. One minute she was convinced of the validity of such thinking. The next minute she questioned everything she believed. And now Natalie wanted a father. It was all just too much.

“Would you like dessert? I have some fresh berries and cream,” Ashley offered.

“Yes, please. Oh, and Mama, can we make a bowl for Grandpa? And can I take them back to his room and eat with him?”

Ashley smiled down at the child. With her hair tied back and a few wispy strands escaping the hold of her ribbon, her face held an elfish charm. Her delicate little upturned nose and finely arched brows made Natalie seem almost doll-like in appearance.

“I’m sure Grandpa would like that. I’ll fix the berries.”

Ashley produced the bowls of dessert and watched as Natalie carefully balanced them on a tray. She heard Natalie call out, then was glad to see that apparently the child’s request had been met with acceptance. Natalie disappeared inside the room, leaving Ashley to clean the table and contemplate the future.