The Redemption of Sarah Cain Read Free Page A

o’clock in the afternoon.’’
    Sarah could not imagine making the long trip. Not for the mere sake of hearing that she was to be the recipient of one or more of Ivy’s handmade Amish quilts or doilies. ‘‘Please, Mr. Eberley,’’ she spoke up. ‘‘Anything belonging to Ivy should— must —be passed along to her children.’’
    ‘‘Are you saying you won’t be coming?’’
    ‘‘That is correct.’’
    He was silent briefly. ‘‘It seems you’ve made up your mind.’’
    ‘‘Anything my sister wished for me to have ought to go to her children,’’ she insisted again, hoping to conclude the conversation. ‘‘My sister would not have wanted it any other way.’’
    Eberley paused again. Then—‘‘Listen, Ms. Cain, Ivy specifically requested that I not reveal the contents of the will unless you were physically present. Which is precisely why you must come to Lancaster.’’ He continued. ‘‘Besides Ivy Cottrell’s children, are you not her only living blood relation?’’
    ‘‘Yes.’’
    ‘‘Then you will come, won’t you?’’
    Sarah was surprised by his persistence, but she refused to commit to anything. She truly intended to put him off. For how long, she didn’t know.
    An absurd possibility crossed her mind. What if Ivy had named Sarah the legal guardian of her five children?
    ‘‘I’ll have to get back with you, Mr. Eberley,’’ she said tersely. ‘‘Good-bye.’’ She did not wait for his reply. She hung up, feeling the heat in her neck rise to her cheeks. What an unlikely and ridiculous notion—the acquiring of her sister’s ready-made family. Sarah chuckled at her own rampant imagination. Surely that was not the reasoning behind Charles Eberley’s urgency.
    Regardless, she had no intention of returning his call.

Chapter Two

    Friday morning, January 21
    It’s ever so unsettling to realize just how closely bound up we are in each other’s lives. Mamma’s passing has knocked the wind clean out of me. Every so often I catch myself startin’ to cry, then there are moments when I feel stronger again. These feelings come in waves each and every day.
    But there’s one thing that will not change. I will not fail to keep my promise to Mamma. Her children, all of us, will stay together, or I’ll die tryin’ to make it so.
    Susie, Mamma’s dearest friend, gently chides that I ought never to make such negative comments. ‘‘What’s confessed aloud affects a person more than we know,’’ she says.
    ’Course I don’t want to say wrongful things. But, then again, I believe God sees my heart. He knows I don’t mean to make rash statements or say things displeasin’ in His sight.
    I ’spect I should be more careful, yet I’ll move heaven and earth if need be to make sure all us Cottrells stay together.
    Oh, Father in heaven, I will fear no evil. . . .

    Traffic was somewhat congested as Sarah made her way toward downtown Portland. She skillfully weaved in and out of the lanes, pushing the speed limit slightly. The stoplight turned red prior to her final turnoff.
    A token glance in the rearview mirror revealed not her own reflection but a misty vision of a snow-covered school playground. A thick gray fog shrouded the clapboard houses that lined the quiet street across from the school yard. Her memory stirred and she heard a distant chain on a flagpole clanking steadily. Intermingled with the faraway sights and sounds were the screams of a little child and other children running toward her. Flinching, Sarah attempted to reject the poignant memory, pushing it back into that dusky alcove of years. Thirty-eight long months had come and gone since that cruel day, yet sorrow and guilt continued their reign.
    Behind her, a driver blared his horn. She jumped a bit, then noticed the traffic light.
    Green.
    Accelerating slowly, she moved forward, keeping pace with traffic.
    She located a parking spot two blocks down from her favorite doughnut shop, then hurried inside for a