biker leather and carrying a helmet. He glanced at them without acknowledgment, then went straight to the bed where Marjorie was lying.
Ava’s heart began to pound. Hunt Knox had just walked in, and the years since she’d seen him last had been more than kind. His face was leaner, his features sharper. He was taller, and more muscular, and his dark hair was longer, hanging over the collar of his leather jacket, but his eyes were still piercing—and unbelievably blue.
She forgot what she was doing and stared as he approached. It took her a few seconds to realize he didn’t recognize her.
“Ma’am. I’m Hunt Knox, her oldest son. Is she conscious?”
“Not ma’am, Hunt. It’s me, Ava Ridley. And to answer your question, she’s in and out of consciousness. You can talk to her if you want.”
Hunt’s eyes widened. He was trying to see the young girl he remembered in this pretty woman’s soft voice and dark eyes.
“Sorry. You grew up some. I wouldn’t have recognized you,” Hunt said. “Is she in pain?”
“Doctor is managing that for her,” Ava said.
When his four siblings finally came out of their shock, Junior stood up.
“Where did you come from? How did you know?” he asked.
Hunt turned, staring until they ducked their heads and looked away, then shifted focus back to his mother. She had wasted away to nothing but skin and bones. Disease did that to a body. He put his helmet aside and reached for her hand.
“Mom...it’s me, Hunt. I came home, just like you asked.” He waited, and just when he thought she was too far gone to hear, he felt her squeeze his fingers. Relief swept through him. He wasn’t too late after all. “I’m sorry it took so long for your message to reach me, but I’m here now.”
Her eyes opened. He knew she recognized him. Her lips were moving, but she didn’t have enough lung capacity to breathe and talk at the same time.
Finally, she got out one word.
“Sorry,” and then, “love.”
Everything within him was shattering, but it didn’t show. He’d as soon shoot himself before he’d reveal weakness.
“It’s okay, Mom. I love you, too. I made you a promise and I’ll keep it. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I was out of the state for a while, and didn’t get your last letter until I got back, but I’m here now and I’ll take care of everything you wanted.”
Marjorie’s eyelids fluttered.
Hunt waited.
His siblings stood and moved around the bed, waiting. They hadn’t seen her respond to anything in days, and all of a sudden, she was conscious. Then her lips parted.
They leaned closer, not wanting to miss a moment of her last words.
Then she said, “Hunt.”
“I’m here, Mom. I’m right here,” Hunt said, and gently squeezed her hand. “I’ll do what you asked.”
Her lips parted again. “Promise?”
He leaned over and spoke softly, near her ear.
“I promise. I’m here now. You’re free to go.”
Marjorie exhaled. The light was brighter, and there was no longer a weight on her heart. She let go of her son, and let God take her home.
Now all four siblings were staring in disbelief, wondering what the hell just happened? Their mother had been hanging onto life like this for almost a week, and the prodigal son walked in and told her it was okay to go. And she died? Just like that?
Ava was trying to find a pulse, but it was gone.
Marjorie’s heartbeat had flat-lined on the monitor.
Emma’s voice rose an octave. “Is she dead?”
Tears were rolling down Junior’s face, and Ray was wiping his eyes.
Birdie, the youngest daughter, covered her face and started to weep.
Moments later an RN came hurrying into the room. She felt for a pulse, then looked up at the clock.
“Time of death, 1:15 a.m.”
There were tears on Ava’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry. My sympathies to all of you.”
Emma hugged her. “Thank you for taking such good care of Mama,” she said.
Hunt had yet to speak to any of his siblings, and was still holding on to his mother’s hand. He knew they were gathering up their things and walking out of the room, but he had nothing to say to any of them now. That would come later.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Ava.
“I’m so sorry, Hunt, but I’m grateful you made it. At the last, you were all she talked about.”
“Thank you for taking care of her,” he said, then let go of his mother’s hand, picked up his helmet,