Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,78
and Ruth had said very little, but words seemed unimportant. The love between them was their strength and consolation.
By suppertime, Faith told Connie they’d done all they could and should probably slip away—hopefully unnoticed. They made their way home, keeping to the forested path rather than the main roads.
Connie wanted to talk about what she’d experienced but didn’t know what to say. How could a person speak of such a sad thing and make any sense of it? But still she wanted very much to understand.
“Why did the baby die?”
Faith turned to her. “I don’t know. It happens sometimes, and we don’t always understand why. Ruth was sick—some sort of ague. Apparently, it made the baby sick as well. Or perhaps the baby was sick and made Ruth ill. I just don’t know. It’s one of the most frustrating things about being a doctor. We do what we can to understand, but it isn’t always possible to have answers. Sometimes babies just die, and sometimes both mother and child die. It’s still possible Ruth may pass away, especially if she’s lost the will to live.”
They walked in silence the rest of the way home. Faith immediately went inside while Connie lingered outside. She heard Faith explaining what had happened, and tears came to her eyes. She could never be as strong as Faith. She could never be as strong as Mama or Aunt Hope. She sat down by the back steps and buried her face in her hands.
“Are you all right?” Tom asked, his voice gentle and soothing.
Connie looked up and shook her head. Tom sat beside her and put his arm around her. Connie slumped against him, grateful for his support.
“Ruth’s baby died. Faith couldn’t save him. Ruth may die too.”
“I’m so sorry. That must have been hard for everyone.”
She nodded. “I so admire Faith. She was so strong and brave. I could never have that kind of strength.”
“You’re strong in other ways. Everyone has their strengths.”
“I just don’t understand why the baby had to die.” She sniffed back tears. “Faith didn’t either. She said sometimes there just isn’t an answer. But that’s not good enough for me. There’s always an answer. We just don’t know what it is. But we should.”
“Maybe so, but knowing won’t change things.”
She loved the sound of his voice. She pressed her ear against his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. That soldier could have killed him, and the thought of this made Connie cry all the more. Tom didn’t seem to mind. He held her tight and never tried to hurry her grieving.
What a great friend Tom was to her. No one cared about her like he did. No one . . . loved her as he did. She thought about his supposed feelings for her. Was he truly in love with her? Could she love him in return? She already did love him, in a way. He was her dear friend and always managed to see her through bad times. There was no one in the world whose company she would rather have.
She eased away from his hold. “I’m sorry for being so weepy. I’ve never had to deal with something like this.” She studied his face for a moment, then gave him a hint of a smile. “Thank you. I should go and make sure Faith is all right. I’m sure she is, but I should check.”
“Of course,” he said in a hushed voice.
Connie hurried inside and found her mother and Aunt Hope cleaning up after dinner.
“Are you all right?” Mama asked.
“I think so. I don’t know how Faith does it. She’s so strong, and no matter how bad things got, she managed without fear. I wish I could be more like her.” Connie moved toward the stairs. “I’m going to go lie down. I’m just so tired.”
“You have a nice long rest. We’ll bring you up something to eat,” her mother said. “Don’t worry about anything.”
Connie nodded. She heard her uncle and father in the living room. It sounded like they were playing chess, so she didn’t bother to greet them and instead made her way upstairs. Each step seemed to take more effort than the one before. She went to the bedroom she was sharing with Faith and quietly pushed the door open. Faith was curled up on her bed, her face buried in her pillow, weeping softly.
Maybe Faith wasn’t able to deny her feelings as well as Connie had thought. She