Chapter 18 - The Promise at the Window
Silas Hayes turned seventy in 1921.
His beard had gone white.
His shoulders were still broad, though age had bent them slightly.
Cora remained formidable.
She still corrected ranch accounts.
Still argued about coffee.
Still laughed when Silas complained.
One winter evening, snow began falling.
Cora sat beside the window.
“Looks familiar.”
Silas joined her.
“Too familiar.”
“Afraid?”
“Of snow?”
“Of delivering another baby.”
Silas stared at her.
“At seventy?”
She laughed so hard she began coughing.
Silas brought water.
Cora looked outside.
“Do you ever think about that night?”
“Sometimes.”
“I thought I was going to die.”
“I know.”
“I believed Thomas was coming through that door.”
Silas nodded.
“I wish he had.”
Cora looked at him.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
The answer surprised her.
Silas continued.
“Would've saved you pain.”
“And you?”
“I would've gone back to the mountains.”
Cora took his hand.
“Then I am grateful for the life we had without being grateful for what caused it.”
Silas smiled.
“That sounds complicated.”
“Life usually is.”
They watched snow cover the orchard.
Three generations of their family lived within several miles.
Hope was a mother.
Jacob ran the ranch.
Rebecca worked as a nurse.
Thomas's grave remained on the hill beside the first apple tree.
Rebecca Hayes's grave lay farther north, beside her little son.
Cora and Silas carried their dead with them.
But they were not imprisoned by them.
“Silas?”
“Yes?”
“Say it.”
He knew.
After all these years, he still knew.
“I’m not leaving.”
Cora rested her head against his shoulder.
“Good.”
Outside, snow continued falling.
Inside, the fire burned.
May you like
And neither of them knew that before the following winter, one final journey would bring their story back to the abandoned shack where everything had begun.
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