A Journey of the Heart Collection (46 page)

“Tell Jacob I'll be waiting for him,” Amelia whispered. “I'm sorry I have to leave him alone.”

“No, no.” Sarah shook her head. “Don't talk like that. Jacob will be here soon and you'll be fine.”

“You must be strong, Sarah.” Amelia's voice was a soft croak. “Help Jacob all you can and tell him I love him.”

She coughed violently, then lay gasping for air. She looked again at a spot just to the side of Emmie, stretched out her arms, and closed her eyes. She gave one last little sigh, a strange little hiccup, and her chest grew still. Baby Gabrielle wailed suddenly as though she somehow knew her mother was gone.

“No!” Sarah wailed. She tried to pull Amelia to a sitting position, but she was limp and unresponsive.

Emmie took Sarah by the shoulders and pulled her close. She swallowed hard past the tears burning in her throat. How could this be?

She leaned her forehead against Sarah's head and closed her eyes as Sarah cried out in sudden comprehension of the loss of her best friend. Morning Song hurried to tend to the crying baby. Emmie heard her clucking noises of comfort through the dull veil of grief that squeezed her heart.

“She's gone,” she whispered against Sarah's hair. “But we know she's with the Lord.”

“She can't be dead,” Sarah said numbly. “She can't be. We've always been there for each other. This can't be true. Call the doctor.” But the words were said without any real conviction.

They clung together for several unbelieving minutes,
then Emmie pulled away and stood. She looked down at Sarah's white face and held out her hand.

Sarah shook her head. “I want to stay here for just a few minutes,” she said with a pleading look. “I just want to remember the good times we had when we were growing up.” Her words were choked with tears. “I still can't believe she's gone.”

Emmie squeezed her shoulder, then left her alone with Amelia.

Morning Song was in the kitchen with little Gabrielle. Emmie put water on to boil for some tea, then sat wearily beside Morning Song. Young John played happily on the floor with some wooden blocks, and Emmie's gaze lingered on her little nephew.

“I don't know how to tell Jacob,” Emmie whispered.

She could only imagine the pain he would feel. And he had a new baby to care for. Of course they would all help, but it was still a huge responsibility to raise a child alone. Emmie gulped as she thought about the situation.

Her promise to Amelia.

She'd promised her friend she would marry Jake and care for Gabrielle if anything happened. Surely Amelia wouldn't expect her to keep a promise like that now that Emmie had found Isaac.

She bit her lip and blinked back more tears. Just when life seemed so perfect, everything fell apart. How could any of them look forward to the wedding when Amelia was gone? Even the thought of that sweet little house seemed impossible in the face of this tragedy.

The day dragged by somehow. Morning Song took the children home to Sarah's, while Sarah and Emmie washed Amelia's cold, still body and dressed her in her favorite Sunday dress, the violet one that deepened the color of her eyes. Emmie couldn't bear the thought of those extraordinary eyes never widening in wonder again. Sarah combed and dressed her friend's long dark hair one last time as her tears gently bathed Amelia's white but still-beautiful face. As the sad news traveled around the post, several ladies dropped by with whispers of condolences and offerings of food.

The bugle finally announced the men's return to the fort, but it was nearly an hour before they heard the heavy tread of the men on the front porch. Isaac and Rand each held Jacob's arms as they practically carried him through the door. His face was slack and
glazed with disbelief and an overwhelming grief. All three men bore signs of the tears they'd shed.

Isaac's eyes were full of sorrow as they met Emmie's, and he opened his arms to her. Sarah uttered a tiny cry and flew into Rand's arms, and they all wept together as Jacob stumbled toward the room where his wife lay.

Moments later, they heard his harsh sobs as he sank to the floor beside Amelia. Emmie's eyes filled with tears again. Isaac pulled her closer and rested his chin on the top of her head as she sobbed against his chest. His shirt smelled of cold air and the warm musk of his male scent. She felt loved and comforted in the circle of his arms with his breath warm on her face. But the grief and aloneness poor Jake must be feeling.

After a little while, the four of them tiptoed into the bedroom to be with Jake. His sobs had stilled, but his fingers still traced the contours of Amelia's face. Rand put his hand on his younger brother's shoulder.

“I never got to say good-bye,” Jacob choked out. “How could she leave without saying good-bye?”

Sarah knelt beside him. “Her last words were for you. She said, ‘Tell Jacob I'll be waiting for him. Tell him I love him.' ”

Jacob groaned and buried his face in his hands.
His shoulders shook with the intensity of his grief. After a few moments, he lifted his head. “Where's the baby? Is she all right?”

“She's fine,” Emmie said. “Morning Song took her to our house along with John and Joel.”

“I want her. She's all I have left of Amelia now.”

“I'll go get her.” Emmie started to leave but Isaac stopped her.

“The wind is terrible. Let me go.”

Emmie shook her head. “I want to. I'll be fine.” She wrapped her cloak about her and stepped out into the wind-whipped snow. She was numb from the emotions of the day as she hurried across the parade ground. The wind stung her cheeks, and the prickle of feeling brought a new wave of grief. How would they all bear this?

Morning Song looked up as Emmie stumbled into the parlor. Little Gabrielle and John slept contentedly on the cot. Joel dozed with his head against Morning Song's knee. The baby slept so peacefully. Emmie's heart clenched with love for the motherless mite. Amelia would have been such a wonderful mother. Now Gabrielle would never know the lovely person who had given her life. Tears stung her eyes as
the baby stirred and opened blue eyes so very like her mother's.

“Jake is back and wants to see the baby.” Emmie knelt beside the cot and gently bundled the blankets around the baby. She lifted the baby into her arms and looked at Morning Song for a moment. “He's taking it very hard.”

Morning Song nodded. “I knew it would be so. When one is cut, the other bleeds. I should come too?”

Emmie shook her head. “You stay with the boys. There's no sense in making them come out in this cold. When we get back, maybe you could go over and feed her.”

“I will come.”

There was a thread of emotion Emmie didn't recognize in Morning Song's voice. The young woman was so stoic most of the time. It was hard to guess what she felt and how strongly Amelia's death was affecting her.

With a last glance at her friend, Emmie pulled the blanket over Gabrielle's face and tucked her under her cloak for added warmth. The wind caught the door out of her fingers, but Morning Song was behind her to grab it and pull it shut.

Jacob was waiting at the door when she stomped
the snow off her feet on the porch. He took the bundled baby out of her arms as soon as she extricated her from under the cloak. With tender hands, he pulled back the blankets and gazed into his daughter's tiny face. She yawned and opened her blue eyes.

“You look so much like your mama,” Jacob whispered. “Thank God.” He pulled her close, then went to the bedroom and shut the door.

Emmie sank wearily onto the cot in the parlor.

Isaac put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “We'll get through this. God is here and in control.”

Emmie nodded. She knew it was so. But why would God allow such sorrow to come to them? She didn't know if she would ever understand.

THREE

T
he day of the funeral dawned clear and cold. December twentieth, just five days before Christmas. The wind wasn't as fierce as usual, which was a mercy from God. Jacob was insistent that the baby be at the service, although she was much too tiny to be out in the weather. Emmie bundled her carefully, then followed Sarah and Rand to the little chapel. Isaac was waiting for her outside the door.

“I've been praying for you all morning.” He squeezed her hand. “For all of us.”

Emmie nodded in gratitude. “Rand was at Jacob's all night. Morning Song too. She insisted she should be the one to go since she is feeding the baby. Poor little John looks so bewildered. He doesn't understand what his mama is doing with that other baby all the time.”

She eased onto the bench beside Sarah and Rand. Jacob sat on the other side of his brother. He stared down at his hands with such a look of suffering that Emmie's eyes filled with fresh tears. She ached to comfort him somehow, but only God could give him the peace he needed.

Reverend Howard cleared his throat as he nervously glanced around at the packed building. The entire garrison had turned out to see Amelia put to rest. “Today is a day of mourning for us gathered here to pay our final respects to Amelia Campbell.” He leaned forward slightly over the pulpit. “But I say to all of you that it is a day of great rejoicing as well.”

Jacob glanced up sharply with a frown.

“Our dear sister showed God's love to everyone she knew. Some of you may wish to tell about how Amelia demonstrated her love for her God in your own lives.”

He sat down and the chapel was silent. Then one by one people stood and told of kindnesses that Amelia had shared. Tears rained down Emmie's cheeks as she listened to the outpouring of love. Jacob sobbed when one soldier told how he had popped a button on his coat while carrying in a load of wood for Amelia, and she insisted on sewing it back on and then gave him some tea and buttered bread.

The chapel was silent for a few moments, and Reverend Howard stood again. “I think we can all heartily agree that Amelia Campbell lived her life to the fullest. She loved her family and she loved her fellow man. I pray that each one of us can impact lives the way she did.”

As Emmie, clinging to Isaac's arm, followed the procession to the grave, her heart was lighter than she would have dreamed possible. She could only imagine the joy Amelia was feeling at this moment. How could she mourn when she thought of her friend's unimaginable bliss? A glance at Jacob's face showed he did not share her thoughts. Grief was etched deeply in his face as he carried his daughter through the ankle-deep snow.

The service at graveside was brief, just the traditional ashes to ashes, dust to dust eulogy. They hurried
home through the increasing wind. Emmie felt a sense of uneasiness as she followed Jacob's broad back. He seemed hard and angry. She knew he blamed God. When the minister had tried to offer words of comfort, he had turned away with a harsh, “Don't talk to me of God's grace and mercy. My wife is dead and my daughter is motherless.” She had never expected an attitude like that from Jacob. Amelia had said he had a strong faith.

“Emmie, would you mind coming in a moment?” Jacob said as they reached his quarters. “I need to talk to you.”

“Of course.” She lifted her face toward Isaac, and he brushed his lips across her cheek.

She smiled and squeezed his hand before following Jacob inside. She hung her cloak on a hook in the hall and hurried to the kitchen to boil some water for tea. She was cold clear through and Jacob had to be as well.

He put little Gabrielle on the bed and sat at the kitchen table while Emmie rummaged through the open shelves for some teacups. He sat silently while she finished preparing the tea. She glanced over at him once or twice and felt a little intimidated by his grim look.

“Sugar?” she asked. He shook his head and took
the steaming cup. She dropped sugar in her own cup and sat beside him at the table.

“You aren't going to like what I have to say,” he said abruptly. “I need your help.”