Devil's Pass by Sigmund Brouwer Read Free Book Online Page A

for being part of my life. A very big, special, wonderful, warm part of my life.”
    The old man took a sip of water. Webb noticed his hand shaking. He must have been nervous.
    â€œI wanted to record this rather than just have my lawyer read it out to you. Hello, Johnnie.”
    â€œHello, Davie,” Devine replied.
    â€œJohnnie, I hope you appreciate that twenty-year-old bottle of Scotch I left you,” his grandpa said. “And you better not have had more than one snort of it before the reading of my will! But knowing you the way I do, I suspect you would have had two.”
    â€œHe did know me well,” Devine said.
    â€œI just wanted—needed—to say goodbye to all of you boys in person, or at least as in person as this allows.” On the television screen, David took another sip from his glass. His hand was still shaking.
    Webb found that significant. He’d never seen his grandpa nervous. David McLean had lived into his nineties, strong and healthy. His hands had never shaken before.
    â€œLife is an interesting journey,” David said from the television, “one that seldom takes you where you think you might be going. Certainly I never expected that I was going to become an old man. In fact, there were more than a few times when I was a boy that I didn’t believe I was going to live to see another day, never mind live long enough to grow old.”
    This was a man who’d been a pilot in World War II, been shot at over France, had had adventures all over the world. Webb knew that the man on the television screen was not exaggerating.
    â€œBut I did live a long and wonderful life. I was blessed to meet the love of my life, your grandmother Vera. It is so sad that she passed on before any of you had a chance to meet her. I know people never speak ill of the dead—and I’m counting on you all to keep up that tradition with me—but your grandmother was simply the most perfect woman in the world.”
    Webb’s own mother—David’s daughter, Charlotte—was close to perfect too. At least she had been when Webb’s dad was alive. He bit back a heavy sigh, thinking of his mother outside the lawyer’s office. So close. But truly, so far away.
    â€œHer only flaw,” David continued, “as far as I can see, was being foolish enough to marry me. She gave me not only a happy life, but four daughters…four amazing daughters. I just wish she could have been there to watch them grow into the four wonderful women who became your mothers.”
    Webb’s grandmother had died when the girls were young—the youngest, Aunt Vicky, was only four at the time. David McLean had raised the girls on his own. Webb wished his mother had followed that same path when his dad had died when Webb was ten.
    â€œI was always comforted by the thought that I believed she was watching them too,” David said from the television. “Sitting up there in heaven or wherever. I guess as you’re hearing this, I have an answer to that question. I pray that I’m with her now.”
    He raised his glass again and toasted his grandsons. “Being both father and mother to my girls meant that I was always running fast to try and do everything. Sometimes the need to earn a living got in the way of me being there for my daughters. There were too many school plays, violin recitals and soccer games that I never got to. And that was why I made a point to be there for almost every one of your games and school events and concerts. This was both a promise I made and a complete joy. You boys, you wonderful, incredible, lovely boys have been such a blessing…seven blessings. Some blessings come later than others.”
    Seven? Webb squinted, as if looking harder at the screen would help his hearing. Six. There were six grandsons. Obviously a mistake, but he didn’t give it much thought because he wanted to give his grandpa his full