Belonging by Robin Lee Hatcher Read Free Book Online Page A

ago, Britta and Lars Kristoffersen had died within hours of each other. Britta in the morning, Lars just after sunset. Felicia had been at their bedsides, without reprieve, for two days, but nothing she’d tried had brought down their high fevers or saved their lives.
    She’d donned deep mourning attire at once. She’d seen themlaid to rest beneath a large cottonwood near the creek that ran through the homestead. The Kristoffersens had been her parents for sixteen years, and she had honestly grieved their passing, despite the loneliness she’d felt, despite the lack of affection shown her.
    Then Gunnar and his sons had swept in like a swarm of locusts, and she’d learned that she was not only parentless but penniless and homeless too. That nothing besides her clothes were hers. That even the name she’d worn for sixteen years wasn’t hers by right. She wore it now only because it was the name on her diploma from the normal school. Otherwise …
    Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away. In that instant, she decided she was finished with mourning. She didn’t care what convention said was the proper length of time for mourning one’s parents. She would not wear the awful black shirtwaists and skirts and wraps another day, nor would she change gradually from black to gray to white to colors.
    As a girl, Felicia had asked God why her adoptive parents couldn’t love her. Why had they taken her into their home if they hadn’t really wanted her? She would never know the answer to that question, not in her lifetime anyway. But it was time to let go of the wound it had left on her heart.
    Eyes closed, she pictured herself holding in cupped hands the hurt and pain that came from being unloved and lonely. Then she lifted those hands toward the heavens.
    I forgive them, Lord. I don’t want to carry this hurt with me any longer. Will You carry it for me?
    She sat in silence for a long while, waiting for a touch from her Savior, from the Friend who had faithfully walked with her for so many years, from the One who had promised to never leave her nor forsake her—a promise kept.
    She envisioned, like a whisper in her heart, walking througha beautiful meadow, wildflowers of every color and hue in abundance. At first she was clad all in black. But then Someone joined her and walked beside her. She couldn’t see His face, but she didn’t need to. She knew Him well. When He took her hand in His, she saw her dress turn from black to red to white.
    Forgiveness extended. Forgiveness received. Washed clean in the blood of the Lamb.
    Amen.
    She rose, folded the black shirtwaist and skirt—leaving the crumpled letter from Gunnar in the pocket—and carried them to the trunk at the foot of her bed. There was something satisfying about putting the clothes into the empty chest, followed soon by the remaining items of her mourning clothes from the wardrobe.
    God willing, she wouldn’t need them again until she was an old, old woman.

SIX
    “Miss Kristoffersen’s going fishing today, Papa. I told her I’d show her the way to the river. Remember? Can I stay and fish too?”
    Colin looked across the breakfast table at his daughter. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Charity.”
    “Why not? I know how to get there, and I’ll make sure I don’t go any closer to the water than that old log. Just like when I’m with you. I promise.”
    “Does it occur to you that she might not want you around all the time? She’ll be with you every weekday once school starts.”
    Charity looked at him as if he’d spoken in a foreign language.
    “No,” he answered himself as he spread butter on a thick slice of bread. “Of course that doesn’t occur to you.”
    “I told her she could use my fishing basket since she doesn’t have one of her own yet.”
    His wife, Colin thought, had chosen the right name for their daughter. The child was always charitable toward others. Almost to a fault. “That was a nice thing for you to