Leave a Candle Burning by Lori Wick Page B

have.”
    “I’ve heard it said that feelings make a wonderful caboose but a terrible engine.”
    Reese smiled.
    “You get it, don’t you?”
    “I do get it. Even if I’m teary, I can’t let my feelings pull me around.”
    “At the same time, Reese, tears are not all bad. Maybe your body just needs to cry right now. You might be experiencing some emotional changes because of the baby, but if you’re still remembering God’s truth about Himself and who you are because of Him, you’ll do fine. If you’re controlling your mind enough to praise God even when you want to sob, I call that a victory in Christ.”
    “Thanks, Alison,” Reese said as she moved to stand.
    “May I check on you again?” Alison asked in genuine concern.
    “I hope you do.”
    Thanking Alison and hugging her goodbye, Reese headed home, wondering at the fact that she felt better for having talked. She walked down the green, fairly certain she’d stumbled onto the answer: telling Conner how she felt and listening to women who had walked ahead of her in the path.

 
    Five
     
    Cathy woke earlier than usual Wednesday morning. It had not been the best of nights, but she still smiled. She was in her own bed, in her own house, and the familiar sounds and smells were the most comforting thing she’d known in a long time. She would miss her time with Maddie and especially the baby, but even with the short time she’d been away, it was completely wonderful to be home.
    She knew she was going to have to move slowly, and that included the extra cleaning she wanted to do since Doyle had been living on his own. He hadn’t spent a lot of time washing dishes or picking up behind himself, but he’d threatened to cart her back to the farm if she overdid.
    “You awake over there?” Doyle suddenly asked, his back to her.
    “Um hm,” she answered, doing nothing to disguise the smile in her voice.
    “I don’t smell my breakfast on the stove,” Doyle teased. “You’d better get up and get to work.”
    “And find myself back at the farm? No, sir. I’m going to become a lady of leisure.”
    Doyle rolled over and looked at her.
    “Is that right?”
    “Yes, it is.”
    “Well, one of us has to make a living around here, so I cannot join you.”
    “Your loss,” Cathy said with a cheeky smile before Doyle leaned to kiss her.
    And she almost pulled it off. Doyle had to help her dress, and she only assisted him with breakfast, not able to do much with her arm still in a splint. In fact, she managed to keep rather still until she spotted the dust that had gathered on the furniture in the parlor. Not until she felt a sharp pain radiate up her arm as she reached to dust the clock that hung over the mantle, did she remember she could not carry on in her usual method. She did very little, and only with her good arm, until Doyle came for dinner, a meal that Maddie had sent with them the day before. Cathy’s arm had stopped throbbing by the end of the meal. She didn’t think she’d done any real damage, but even at that, she didn’t mention her foolishness to her husband.

     
    Dannan picked up his mail Friday in the late afternoon. He’d just been to see a woman with a toothache and was on his way back through town. He recognized his father’s handwriting immediately, but it took some time for him to realize that something was wrong. The letter had come from Willows Crossing. Seated in the buggy, his horse half asleep, Dannan opened the letter and read. Later he would be thankful that his father had not beat about the bush, but at the moment shock filled him.
     
Dear Dannan,
     
Grant and Annie are dead. A flu epidemic swept through Willows Crossing, along with Carson Gap and Headley. Corina was taken to the outskirts of town and is still there. She is fine. Jonas and I are here and will wait your arrival. Come as soon as you can. We may not be able to hold the burial, but there is much to be