“When you told me that Mother didn’t love you when you got married, that you weren’t her first choice, I was surprised. I always assumed that the two of you married for love. But now it all makes sense. Now I understand perfectly well why she didn’t want to marry you.”
The night was abruptly quiet. Even the soft wind seemed to still as Cora’s words echoed through the tops of the trees surrounding the Burns’ property.
Sheriff Williams turned his back, one hand on his hip and the other on his face. Cora knew she had gone too far, but when her father finally turned back to face her, she was shocked to find no trace of anger in his expression. Instead, his face was downturned, and his eyes were wet with tears. Cora had never in all of her twenty years seen her father cry. A lump formed in her throat, and she felt nauseous with regret.
“Pa, I—”
But the sheriff was already walking back toward the wagon, retrieving the lantern and climbing in his place behind the horse. Cora knew there was nothing she could say to take back her words or removing the image of her father’s face, wet with tears, so she didn’t chase after him or offer any retraction. Instead, she stayed frozen in place until her father had prompted the horses into motion and driven off. Then, she crumbled to the ground, her hand cupping her mouth and muffling her loud sobs.
Roy, who had remained silent by the porch all this time, not interfering in the emotional brawl between father and daughter, now rushed to Cora’s side.
“Come on,” he said, gently pulling her to her feet and helping her inside the house. They didn’t speak as he settled her on the couch in the sitting room, and he held his arms around her shaking shoulders as she sobbed into his shirt. Cora was grateful that he wasn’t offering any words of advice and that he didn’t try to fix the situation. What she needed the most in that moment was the physical release that came from a cathartic crying session, and he let her have that.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when her sobs finally gave way to exhaustion. Her head ached from the sinus pressure, but her chest felt less heavy. She sat up and leaned forward on the edge of the couch, her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands, and she began to pray. She prayed for forgiveness for quarreling with her father in such a manner, and for letting her temper bring her to the point that she caused him pain. She asked that God let His will be done in her life, and she surrendered to the possibility that maybe the plans she was making for her own life wasn’t the perfect plan He had in store for her.
“‘For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways… As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts.’” Cora recited under her breath that passage from the Book of the prophet Isaiah, one she had memorized long ago and had gotten her through many difficult moments in her life. With all of her emotions running wild, she had allowed herself to forget those simple words.
When she looked up from her prayer, she noticed that Roy’s head was also bowed, as if he had been praying alongside her, even during the silent parts. In that moment, she knew what she needed to do.
“I have to go back,” Cora said, whether to herself or to Roy, she wasn’t sure. “I haven’t changed my mind about Alfred. But I can’t leave things that way with my father. I have to go home and set everything right. That’s the only way I can show that I’ve surrendered myself to God’s plan.”
Roy reached for Cora’s hand and squeezed it. “How can I help?”
She turned her face—which she was sure was red, puffy, and unsightly—toward
him. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course I will,” Roy said with a look of tenderness in his eyes. “Should I get Iggy?”
“No,” Cora shook her head. “If it’s okay with you, I’d rather take the time to walk.”
Roy nodded, and together they stood up, making the journey to Cora’s house to face the music walking hand in hand.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hearing Cora and her father fight just feet away from the same place where he and his own father had many of their heated arguments had triggered an emotional reaction in Roy. Part of the reason he stayed quiet during their verbal brawl was because he knew it wasn’t his place to get involved, but the other reason was that he was lost in his own thoughts, trapped in a flashback of he and his father standing on the porch, yelling back and forth about each of their desires and expectations for Roy’s future.
The exception to this being the moment when Sheriff Williams had suggested that Roy might leave Cora the way he had left his father. He didn’t want to let that stand, and he was ready to defend himself, but he didn’t have to—Cora’s response had left him breathless and made him swell with pride.
She thinks I could make a good husband.
He worried that it might be selfish to fixate on that one statement in light of the surrounding circumstances, but he also couldn’t help but wonder if her saying those words was an answer to his prayer regarding whether he should continue to pursue Cora’s heart.
They walked through the dark back to Cora’s house with their fingers intertwined, and Roy offered silent comfort by making circular motions along the side of her palm with his thumb. He thought about what Mr. Jones had told him about how God would send him a wife when it was His perfect timing, and his heart settled at the base of his throat as he realized that the woman standing beside him could be the one God had planned for him.
But amid this adrenaline rush was a still, small voice telling Roy to wait, that right now was not the time to romance her, but to support her in this trying time.
The two of them slowed their pace as Cora’s house came into view. Roy glanced at her and noticed that her shoulders had stiffened. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, as if she were bracing herself. Then she gave Roy’s hand one more squeeze before releasing it. Roy didn’t want to let her hand go, but he also understood the importance of Cora standing on her own feet and that now was not the right time to flaunt their feelings for each other, but to address this situation without emotional attachments.
If it was part of God’s plan, they would have a lifetime to show the world their love for each other, and Roy would make sure to hold her hand in public every chance he got, proud to be the man God ordained to stand next to her. But now was not that right time.
Cora inhaled deeply and released her breath before squaring her shoulders.
“I’m ready,” she said with determination, and Roy let her lead the way as she opened the door.
Sheriff Williams, Alfred, and another woman who Roy assumed was Alfred’s mother were sitting in the living room, apparently in the middle of a tense conversation that abruptly ended when the two of them walked through the door. Unlike Alfred and the woman, Sheriff Williams didn’t appear surprised to see Roy with Cora. He simply nodded, a look of resignation painted on his face.
“Go on and take a seat,” Sheriff Williams said, gesturing toward the empty chairs. “It’s time we all sat down and talked.”
