Jenkins will be the only one left,” she said. “My last battle.”
*****
The next day, Sarah showed signs of improving. She sat in bed propped up with pillows and talked clearly of days gone by. She arranged her funeral while her husband took careful notes and wrote letters to their children and grandchildren. Her funeral would be a homecoming, a celebration of life rather than an ending.
With her renewed strength, Sarah saw an immediate urgency to have things done. The plants needed their leaves cleansed with milk, and Casey hurried to complete the job. A new family within the congregation needed a visit, so the reverend saddled his horse and paid them a call. Countless other tasks were completed to Sarah’s satisfaction, and still she had more for them to do. She made a list of those who needed food and clothing. Her bed was covered with books and papers while laughter poured from her very soul. She ate with an appetite not seen since the past spring. A time of rejoicing rang through the parsonage.
Sarah stared longingly outside and questioned the condition of her roses. In a few more months they’d need pruning. Did Casey know how to do that? Perhaps tomorrow she’d feel well enough to sit outside wrapped in a blanket.
After a restful night, Sarah woke cheerful and alert. She shooed the reverend out of the bedroom and on to his church responsibilities. “Your work is lagging because of tending to me. Go on and get caught up.”
About midmorning, Casey detected a change in Sarah’s physical and mental disposition. A certain sadness or longing prevailed in Sarah.
“Is something wrong? Are you in pain?” She touched Sarah’s pale cheek, but she was cool.
“Not in pain. I just have a yearning to go home.” Her weak smile was little comfort.
Casey caught her breath. “You’re not giving up, are you?”
“Yes, I believe so. I felt strange yesterday, and this morning the urgency is still with me. I’m content in Jesus’ presence. I feel Him all around me saying it’s time to go home, and I’m ready.”
Casey knelt at Sarah’s bedside and took the woman’s withered white hand into her own. Now she understood the surge of renewal from the previous day. She’d seen it in the dying before. But she hated to let Sarah go. The dear woman stood for all that was good and genuine in this world. “Are you sure?”
“Precious girl, I’m so tired, and I do want to see Jesus. Angels were here around my bed last night. They’re still here waiting for His word to carry me home.” Sarah’s gaze swept all around the room before resting again on Casey’s face. “Oh, I feel such peace. I wish I could describe it.”
“Should I go fetch the reverend?” Casey wanted to weep, but the joy in Sarah’s pale face refreshed her.
“Not yet. I want to spare him all the heartache I possibly can. This will come as a blessing. And for John, I want my death to be swift. When it’s all over, he can go on with his life and his ministry. The relief and strain of caring for me will be gone. I’m so glad I said good-bye to the children in October. Everything is finished.” She rose slightly from the pillow. Some of her white hair slipped from her bun. “I worry about you, dear. Some things aren’t resolved, are they?”
Casey tilted her head. She realized Sarah could see through any falsehood. “Do you mean the legal matters?”
“I mean with Morgan.” She laughed lightly. “Don’t you know by now that you can’t keep anything from me?”
Casey refused to burden Sarah with her own turmoil. “Morgan loves me and wants to marry me.”
“And what is wrong with that? Don’t you love him?”
“Oh yes, Sarah. I’ve loved him since the beginning.” Casey smiled and kissed her cheek. “You shouldn’t be fretting over me. I’m fine.”
“If you truly love him, why are you so unhappy?”
Silence filled the room.
“I don’t know how to put my feelings into words,” Casey finally said. “I feel so selfish discussing myself.”
“But you must talk to me. This is the old woman who loves you so very much.”
Casey hesitated a moment more. “I don’t trust him. I’m afraid his wildness and bad temperament will return. And marriage frightens me. This is hard to explain. It’s uncomfortable for me to talk about things that a good woman like you would find unpleasant. Jenkins hurt me in the way only a man can hurt a woman.”
“I