***
Thomas was running towards the house as it crumbled into the dust, sweat pouring from him as he struggled to reach it. He stopped running and looked back to see the mystery woman picking up the pieces of his broken guitar.
He called out to her, knowing in his heart that the words would catch in his throat. To his great surprise, he heard his voice carry to where the woman was crouching.
She stood and turned, the pieces of the broken guitar nestled in the crook of her arm like a baby. She smiled warmly at him. Peace grew in his heart.
Thomas opened his eyes and looked at the book that was laying before him on the table. He’d fallen asleep while writing a song. He lifted his head and ran his hands over his face. The hard wood of the desk had left patterns etched into his cheek.
He frowned. Usually, when he woke up from the dream he felt exhausted. This time he felt rested, albeit a bit groggy from the impromptu nap. He searched his sleepy mind for the last thing he could remember. The dream had started as it always had, happily dancing with his wife in the sunshine before a sudden gust of wind blew her away. He chased after her and watched the house crumble into dust despite his best efforts. He called out to the woman and she turned...
Thomas’ breath caught in his chest as he remembered the final moment of the dream. Rosaline had smiled at him. It had been her all along. But what did this mean? She was there to help rebuild his family and look after his son. He already knew all of this. Why would he dream of her night after night? Had she not already fulfilled the role she had come here for?
Her words of encouragement and excitement came back to him as his eyes fell on the open book. An inexplicable feeling came over him, something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He felt the need to play his guitar.
Standing, he walked over to the guitar and picked it up, the varnished wood cool beneath his fingers. Gently running his fingers over the length of the strings, he picked out a silent tune in his mind.
Making his way back to the desk, he sat and positioned the guitar in his arms, ready to play. He positioned his fingers over the strings and strummed. He frowned. Something had shifted inside the guitar.
Thomas lifted the guitar above his head and gently shook the neck and base. There was a glimpse of something white peeking through the strings. He continued to gently shake the guitar until the corner of an envelope fell out of the hole. Gently parting the strings, he pulled it out.
His heart was in his throat as he recognized the handwriting. The beautiful letters curled across the paper were written in his wife’s hand.
Slumping back in his chair, he opened the letter and began to read.
My dearest Thomas,
It’s been a few days since I’ve fallen ill. We both know that very few people make it through this. As much as it pains me to leave you and Robbie behind, I know that God has a plan for all of us. I want you to be happy, my love. Move on with your life and don’t be held back by any sense of loyalty to me. Know that it is my deepest wish that you be happy. You have such a big heart, with so much love to give. I know that Robbie will be the luckiest boy alive to have you as his father. Tell him about me and how much his grandmother and I loved him, and always will love him. I'm asking God to send him another mama who will love him on earth and watch over him, just as I will be doing from heaven.
With all my love, be happy.
-Your loving wife.
Thomas dropped the letter onto the desk in front of him and lowered his head into his hands. He couldn’t hold back the tears that were streaming down his face. “Oh my love,” he wept bitterly. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you so much.”
Chapter Sixteen
The days flew by with growing ease in the family as everyone settled into their roles. They had reached a rhythm that was both comfortable and pleasing to all. Rosaline kept up the chores and mothered Robbie, who was growing stouter by the day.
She looked up in surprise one evening when Thomas asked if it was okay for him to stay after dinner.
“That’s if you don’t mind,” he asked, slightly embarrassed.
“We would love to have you,” she said in surprise from her usual spot on the floor. Robbie was on her lap playing with his blocks.
Arthur looked at her in pleasant surprise as his son knelt and sat beside Rosaline on the floor.
“What are we building here, little chap?” Thomas smiled at his son and helped him build a tower.
Robbie giggled in delight when he knocked the tower over.
“Now we need to get you ready for life as a rancher young man. This will all be yours someday. Let me show you how to build a corral.” He picked up the blocks and laid them out in a circle.
Warmth was spreading through Rosaline’s heart as she watched Robbie play with his father.
“Can you say corral?” Thomas asked his son and showed him the circle. “Can you say blocks?” Robbie furrowed his brow and looked to his father and Rosaline. “Has he not said anything yet? Not mamma or papa?”
Arthur shook his head and Rosaline hugged Robbie to her. “We are working on it.” She pressed her cheeks to the top of his curls. “We practice every day.”
