The Inheritance by Tamera Alexander Read Free Book Online

hadn’t made the promise lightly and was determined to carry out Janie Talbot’s wishes.
    Miss Ashford bent and pressed a lingering kiss to her cousin’s forehead, then sank down beside the bed and rested her head on the mattress. Her shoulders shook, gently at first, until a sob finally broke through. He started to go to her but stopped himself, doubting comfort from him would be welcome at the moment.
    Dr. Foster had asked him to stay through the night and had left for a short time to check on two other patients—both turned out to be faring well. But he hadn’t wanted to leave Miss Ashford alone with her cousin, and Wyatt understood. He had nothing waiting on him except a cold boardinghouse bed, so he’d stayed to help in whatever way he could.
    Despite his repeated offers of sustenance, Miss Ashford hadn’t eaten much of anything and had barely touched the coffee he’d made. She’d refused to leave Janie Talbot’s side for any reason, and even now she clung to the woman’s hand.
    Watching her, he wondered if she was aware of the irony of the two journeys occurring in this moment—a beginning and an end brought together precisely in a splinter of time. If a person believed in the Creator, one might think He hadn’t wanted Miss Ashford to lose her cousin in the darkest hour of the night. Rather, He desired she be surrounded by the warmth of His light when that dreaded moment came. Yet Wyatt doubted Miss Ashford could see that now. Neither had he, in his moment of greatest grief.
    It took distance to view loss with such perspective. And though seven years had passed for him, there were still days he questioned the why of it all. No telling how many petitions he’d piled at the foot of heaven’s throne—most of which remained unanswered. But answers didn’t always bring peace. He’d learned that along the way.
    Dr. Foster walked from the bedroom and pulled the door closed. Sighing, he ran a hand through his thinning hair. “I appreciate you staying the night, Marshal.” Fatigue weighed his voice.
    “It was the least I could do, sir. Especially after what Miss Ashford did for my prisoner.”
    Foster poured himself another cup of coffee. “I’d have to agree with you there. Not many a woman—or man—would have attempted that.” He eased his frame into a kitchen chair and stared at the closed bedroom door. “For a while there”—he took a sip—“I thought she might pull through.”
    Hearing sincerity in the statement, Wyatt also thought he’d read something different in the man’s demeanor last night. “But that was before Miss Ashford and I arrived. Wasn’t it, sir?”
    The doctor’s attention crept back to him. “Yes . . . it was. But I see no reason in thieving a person’s hope. I’ve been wrong before . . . guessing what the Almighty might—or might not— do.” He rubbed his eyes. “The longer I live, Marshal, the more I learn about God’s character, and the more I trust Him. Yet oddly enough”—his gaze clouded—“the less I understand His ways. A childless widow of sixty-two recovers, while a young mother dies and leaves behind a daughter who, at such a young age, will likely not remember her. Or her papa.”
    Doubt and assurance met in the doctor’s expression, and Wyatt shared them both. He gave a faint nod, choosing to leave the silence between them undisturbed.
    “I delivered Emma in the same bed where Janie’s lying now.” Dr. Foster bowed his head. “Vince and Janie Talbot made me feel more like family than anyone else in Copper Creek. My wife died twenty-two years ago. I’ve been alone since. The Talbots used to have me out for Sunday dinner after church. Janie made the best biscuits you’ve ever put in your mouth, and she always sent me home with the extras.”
    Wyatt hadn’t considered how personal a loss this might be to the older man. He moved closer and briefly laid a hand on his shoulder, unable to find the right words.
    After a moment, Dr. Foster pushed