Extended Epilogue: Sarah – One Year Later

The ranch smelled like smoke, fresh bread, and pie.

Sarah stood near the porch, with Evelyn balanced on one hip, and watched Lily race past for what had to be the twentieth time.

“Slow down!”

Lily ignored her.

Blue ribbons fluttered along the fence rails, tied there that morning because Lily had decided birthdays required decorations everywhere. Apparently everywhere included the chicken coop.

Long tables near the barn held roasted meat, potatoes, bread, preserved vegetables, and enough pies to feed half the valley. Agnes claimed there wasn’t enough food.

No one believed her.

Near the barbecue pit, Harrison was attempting to convince Caleb that his way of tending the fire was superior.

Caleb strongly disagreed.

Sarah smiled.

Some things never changed.

Evelyn patted her cheek.

Sarah looked at her daughter. “What?”

The baby made a serious sound that could have meant absolutely anything.

“I agree.”

Caleb came up behind them. “You two discussing me?”

“Always.”

“I knew it.”

He kissed Evelyn’s head, and she immediately grabbed his shirt. “Traitor.”

Sarah laughed. “She adores you.”

“She pulls my hair.”

Shrugging, Sarah said, “That is how she shows affection.”

“I’m concerned about what that says about your family.”

Sarah gave him a look. “Careful.”

Lily came racing around the barn and stopped in front of them, cheeks pink and one stocking grass-stained.

Sarah stared at her. “You were clean this morning.”

“I still am.”

Caleb coughed.

“Don’t encourage her.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking encouragement.”

Sarah groaned. She’d heard that somewhere before.

“Can we have cake?” Lily asked.

“No. We haven’t eaten supper.”

“I ate.”

“When?”

“I had a biscuit.”

“That is not supper.”

“It had butter.”

Caleb turned away, but not before Sarah saw his shoulders move.

“Are you laughing?”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re both impossible.”

Eliza and Adrian approached from the tables, their hands linked. Marriage suited them, although Adrian still acted as though he’d been dragged into it whenever Harrison teased him.

Eliza rested her other hand over the curve of her stomach, and Sarah frowned. “You should be sitting.”

“There are still two months to go.”

Adrian nodded. “I’ve told her the same.”

Eliza groaned. “You told me not to carry cider.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“I am not made of glass.”

Adrian looked at Sarah. “You see what I endure?”

Eliza poked him.

Lily hurried over and placed a hand on Eliza’s stomach.

A moment later, her eyes widened. “It kicked me!”

Sarah laughed.

“Is it a girl?” Lily asked.

“We don’t know,” Eliza said.

“It should be.”

Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I want a sister.”

“You already have Evelyn,” Sarah reminded her.

Lily looked toward the baby. “That’s different. I want a sister who lives at my house, too.”

“If this one is a boy?” Adrian asked.

Lily considered the problem. “Can we trade him?”

Eliza burst out laughing. “No.”

Lily seemed disappointed.

Sarah looked around the yard, filled with voices, music, children, and dogs. Someone dropped a plate, and Agnes shouted that whoever broke it could wash the rest.

This was what home sounded like. It was messy and noisy.

Lily returned carrying the little wooden horse.

Caleb pointed at it. “That still exists?”

“Of course,” Lily said, frowning. “Aunt Sarah loves it.”

“One ear is missing.”

“It isn’t missing. It’s supposed to look like that.”

Sarah laughed. “She’s defending your workmanship.”

“My workmanship was excellent before people dropped it.”

Lily studied the horse. “Where did it come from?”

Sarah looked at Caleb. “You’ve never told her?”

“Told me what?”

Caleb took the horse. “I made it.”

Lily’s eyes widened. “For me?”

“No. For Sarah.”

“When?”

“On the journey.”

Sarah took it from him and ran her thumb over the chipped ear. She remembered the trail and everything that had gone wrong between them. “You were going to give it to me before everything went wrong.”

Lily frowned. “Everything always went wrong on that trip.”

Adrian laughed. “Accurate.”

Eliza gave him a look.

“What? I was shot.”

“You mention that a great deal.”

“It was memorable.”

Sarah shook her head. “It barely touched your arm.”

“You weren’t the patient.”

“No. I was busy being kidnapped.”

Silence followed, and then Caleb laughed. Sarah did too.

Enough time had passed that the memories no longer owned them.

Lily looked around. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” Caleb said.

She shrugged and ran off with the horse.

Eliza watched her go. “She doesn’t remember much.”

“Good,” Sarah said.

Eliza nodded. “Let her remember the people. Not the fear.”

Sarah liked that.

So much of life couldn’t be undone. Maybe healing wasn’t forgetting it.

Maybe it was refusing to let the worst parts become the whole story.

***

The sheriff arrived near sunset.

Sarah noticed the envelope in his hand immediately.

“Mrs. Hawthorne.”

“Sheriff.”

“Could we speak somewhere quieter?”

Caleb’s hand rested against her back, and they moved toward the porch while the celebration continued behind them.

The sheriff handed her the envelope.

Sarah recognized the name written across it.

Sarah Hawthorne

Beneath it:

Formerly Sarah Carlisle

“What happened?”

“It concerns Edmund.”

She looked at Caleb.

“What about him?”

“He’s gravely ill. The prison physician doesn’t expect him to recover.”

Sarah had imagined receiving news of Edmund’s death before. She’d imagined anger, relief, even grief.

Instead, she felt nothing.

The sheriff nodded toward the envelope. “He’s transferred everything he legally owns to you—property, accounts, and what remains of the Carlisle estate.”

“To me?”

“There is a note.”

Sarah broke the seal.

The handwriting was Edmund’s, although less steady than she remembered.

He didn’t ask her to excuse him. He wrote that he’d convinced himself he knew what was best for her, had used her mother’s memory to justify choices that belonged to him alone, and that he’d been wrong.

The last lines were simpler.

He didn’t expect forgiveness, but he was sorry. He told her that everything he had left belonged to Sarah, and he asked her to use it better than he had.

Sarah folded the note carefully. “How long does he have?”

“Days, perhaps weeks.”

Caleb waited until the sheriff had left. “What do you want to do?”

Sarah looked toward the yard. Lily was showing the wooden horse to Harrison while Evelyn sat safely in Eliza’s lap.

“I want to see Edmund.”

“You don’t owe him that.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“For me.”

Caleb nodded.

“I don’t need answers. Nothing he says can change what happened, but I think I’ll regret it if I don’t go.”

“Then we’ll go.”

Sarah looked at him. “We?”

“You thought I’d let you go alone?”

She laughed. “I should’ve known better.”

“Yes.”

Sarah looked down at the documents. “I don’t want the estate.”

“What about the money?”

“I want to sell everything.”

Caleb studied her. “And do what?”

Sarah looked toward town. “I want to build something.”

His mouth curved. “There she is.”

“Not a house.”

“Shame. I’m good at houses.”

“An orphanage.”

His smile faded.

Sarah continued before she lost her nerve. “I want to build a real home for children who don’t have one. I had a roof after my mother died. I had clothes, food, and everything people think a child needs, but I never felt safe.”

Caleb took her hand.

“I want children who have nowhere else to go to know they’re wanted, and not burdens waiting for someone else to decide what happens to them.”

He was quiet for so long that Sarah looked at him.

“What?”

“I’m proud of you.”

The words caught her by surprise.

“Why?”

“Because you’re taking something that hurt you and turning it into a great thing that might keep somebody else from hurting.”

Sarah blinked quickly. “You’re terrible at compliments.”

“I proposed by telling you that you could run away.”

“Fair point.”

She leaned against him. “I think I can forgive Edmund.”

Caleb said nothing.

“Not because what he did was acceptable, and not because he’s dying. I just don’t want to carry him anymore.”

“Then don’t.”

Sarah looked down at the note. “Only God can judge the past now.”

Caleb squeezed her hand.

A second later, Lily came racing toward them.

“Aunt Sarah! Cake!”

“Did Agnes say it was time?”

Lily stopped. “No.”

“Did anyone say?”

“I did.”

Caleb burst out laughing, and Sarah stared at him. “You are no help.”

“Never claimed to be.”

Lily grabbed Sarah’s hand and pulled her toward the tables.

The documents remained on the porch. They would still be there the next day. Tonight belonged to Lily, birthdays, crooked slices of cake, and family.

Sarah stood beside Caleb as Lily blew out her candles.

Their daughter squealed at the cheering.

Eliza laughed.

Adrian kissed his wife’s temple.

Caleb threaded his fingers through Sarah’s.

She thought of the girl she’d once been, running because running was the only choice she believed she had. If Sarah could reach backward through all those years, she wouldn’t tell that frightened girl that everything happened for a reason.

Some things didn’t.

She would simply tell her to keep going.

One day she would learn that home wasn’t anything another person gave her. It was something she could choose, build, and become for someone else.

Caleb squeezed her hand. “What are you thinking?”

“The future.”

He looked around the crowded yard. “Looks noisy.”

“It’s very noisy.”

“It’s going to be expensive.”

She nodded. “Probably.”

“Not to mention, it’ll be full of children.”

Sarah laughed. “If my orphanage has anything to say about it.”

Caleb groaned. “I walked into that.”

“You proposed.”

“I remember.” He looked at her. “You had your chance to run.”

“I never wanted it.” Sarah’s smile softened.

She rested her head against his shoulder and looked over the ranch as the last sunlight stretched across the valley.

The future was still unknown. For once, Sarah didn’t need to know exactly what waited for her. Caleb’s arm was warm against hers, Evelyn fussed in Agnes’s arms, and Lily was fussing because she wanted another piece of cake.

Sarah smiled. She knew exactly where home was.

THE END