Both the pastor and his wife gave her their full attention.
“It’s about Richard,” she began.
Wade sighed and shook his head. “Something told me this had to do with your brother.”
“He wrote for the first time. He said these three years behind bars have given him a perspective on the wrong he committed. He’s asking for my forgiveness.”
“And Grady’s?”
Savannah shook her head. “He wrote only to me.”
“I see.”
“Grady doesn’t want me to answer him. He’s afraid it’ll open the door to...something else, and he doesn’t want Richard back in our lives. I don’t blame him. I love both my brothers, but Richard’s brought us nothing but pain and embarrassment. He’s hurt our family and our community. I’m ashamed that people know the things he’s done.”
“But you feel you can’t ignore his plea?” Amy asked.
“God’s word is full of forgiveness.” Savannah couldn’t stand inside a church and say otherwise. That was what made this situation so difficult. Truly forgiving Richard meant forgetting everything he’d done. She wasn’t sure that was possible.
“It’s in forgiving others,” Wade said quietly, “that we learn to forgive ourselves.”
“Sometimes it isn’t as simple as it sounds,” Amy said. “Shortly after Joey was born, I heard from my mother. She told me she wanted to mend fences.”
Savannah knew how deeply Amy had been hurt by her mother, who’d abandoned her when she was pregnant, leaving her to face the world alone.
“As soon as she learned I’d married Wade and that he’d adopted Joey, she wanted back in my life. It took me a long time to be able to forgive her for deserting me when I needed her most.” Wade placed his arm protectively around his wife’s shoulders. “But I have forgiven her. I can look back now and not feel that pain anymore. Yes, I know the type of person my mother is. But while I love her and have forgiven her, I avoid contact with her. I have to be realistic about it. She’s a selfish, self-destructive person, addicted to drugs and alcohol. I love her, I pray for her, but I’ve chosen not to make her a part of my life.”
Savannah let the words settle in her mind. The way Amy felt about her mother was the way she herself felt about Richard. She wanted a better life for him, but not at the risk of her own or her family’s. “Thank you,” she said and hugged Amy.
Wade hugged Savannah next. “Your heart will tell you what to do,” he assured her.
The minute she’d finished with the noon meal and tucked Laura and Matthew in their beds, Savannah sat down in front of the computer and typed a letter.
Dear Richard,
After three years without a word from you, I’ll admit your letter did take me by surprise. I’m glad to hear you regret the crimes you’ve committed and the pain you’ve caused Grady and me—and those poor helpless immigrants in New York City. My prayer is that this realization is a new beginning for you.
You asked about home, and I’m pleased to be able to tell you that the Yellow Rose is thriving. The partnership between Grady and Laredo has been a good one.
As for Laredo and me, our marriage is very happy. Laura and Matthew keep me busy, and my rose gardens take up the rest of my time. I’ve raised several prizewinners in the past few years. My catalog business continues to blossom (pun intended). Laredo splits his time between ranch work and raising quarter horses. He has a gentleness about him that children and horses instinctively respond to. I married a good man.
I want you to know that I do forgive you, Richard. You’re my brother and I could do no less—but forgiveness is all I have to offer you.
You rejected your home, your family, your heritage, and that can’t be undone with a mere apology. The trust that used to exist between us has been destroyed. Not once but twice, and that isn’t easily repaired. I can forgive you, Richard, but I can’t trust you.
Savannah
When she’d finished, Savannah read the letter through, then saved it. She glanced up as she heard the sound of footsteps.
Laredo had moved into the room and now stood behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You answered him?”
“Yes,” she said tentatively, knowing he might disapprove.
“Tell me what you think,” she said and scrolled the letter back onto the monitor for him to read.
“Well?” she asked a few minutes later, wanting his opinion.
He kissed her cheek. “I knew you’d answer. You’re much too kindhearted to ignore Richard’s plea for forgiveness.”
“But I can’t allow him back in my life,” she said and experienced an almost overwhelming sense of sadness. The brother she loved was someone she no longer knew. In the years since their parents’ deaths, he’d become a stranger.
“Are you going to let Grady read your letter?” Laredo asked.
“Yes,” she said, “if he wants to. He has a right to know what I told our brother.” It wouldn’t be easy for Grady to accept her decision. He had his own demons to confront when it came to Richard.
* * *
It took Lucas almost a week to find the nerve to approach Annie Applegate about dinner. Friday morning, he sat on the edge of his bed, rubbed his face with both hands and heaved a deep sigh, promising himself he wouldn’t put it off any longer. He just had to make sure he explained himself clearly.
Since the day Jane and Dovie had suggested he take Annie out, he’d made a dozen excuses to visit Tumbleweed Books.
He’d bought two more stories by Beverly Cleary for the girls, an atlas and a biography of Abraham Lincoln. But he still hadn’t spoken to Annie.
At one time he’d had it all, and then his wife had died from cancer. For two years he’d railed against the unfairness of life; now he merely felt empty. He hated to disappoint Jane and Dovie, those two great romantics, but he wasn’t interested—not in a romantic relationship, at any rate. He intended to be honest with Annie about that. Despite what he’d said to the Pattersons a few weeks ago, he wasn’t planning to remarry.
The truth of the matter was that he was lonely, and he thought maybe, just maybe, Annie was lonely, too. Two lonely people who might share an evening out sometimes. Two people who could each benefit from someone to break the monotony of everyday life. Someone to laugh with. A friend. He didn’t quite know why he hesitated about approaching Annie. After all, they had things in common. They were both newcomers to the community, although he’d lived in Promise as a child and returned a few years ago. More important, Annie Applegate was alone, the same way he was, and she might be open to a just-friends arrangement.
Both his daughters now loved books. Heather, who’d recently been a reluctant reader, spent her entire allowance on books every week. Hollie, who was only learning to read, followed Annie around the shop like a shadow. Lucas marveled at Annie’s patience with his daughters. He appreciated it, too.
Today was the day, Lucas promised himself. Jane had reminded him twice about her offer to watch his girls, and so had Dovie. A single father didn’t get baby-sitting offers all that often; he’d be a fool to turn this one down.
Dr. Jane had made no attempt to be subtle about setting him up with her bookseller friend, and that worried him. But as long as he and Annie understood each other, it could work. The problem was, how exactly did a man convey that to a woman without disappointing or insulting her? Still, he had to try.
With a sense of resolve, Lucas readied himself for his day, paying extra attention to his appearance. When he’d finished, he studied his reflection for several minutes, scrutinizing himself with a fresh eye.
He concluded that at thirty-five he hadn’t lost his looks. True, he was a little rough around the edges, but after everything that had happened in the past four years, plus his responsibilities at home and work, that was to be expected.
He possessed a full head of dark hair, with a few gray strands. But not many; he deserved more. The shadows beneath his eyes revealed too many sleepless nights and a grief that would haunt him to the grave.
All morning as he went about his duties, Lucas searched his soul...and thought about Annie.
He also thought about his wife.
It seemed an eternity ago that he’d dated Julia. They’d been college classmates and had married before he entered veterinary school. She’d worked to support them while he completed his training. Once he’d graduated and joined a practice, they’d started their family. Everything had been so well planned, so carefully worked out. Then Julia had become ill and was soon diagnosed with cancer. Within six months she was dead—and so were all his dreams.
Driving into town, he parked his pickup, then quick-marched down the street toward the bookstore. He burst inside, determined to be done with this once and for all.
“Annie.” He hadn’t intended to sound quite so demanding—or so loud.