Leave a Candle Burning by Lori Wick Page B

called for his wife when she wasn’t in the kitchen or parlor. He looked up the stairs but didn’t call again. Something told him she was up in their room, and he debated whether or not to disturb her. He vacillated for some minutes before climbing up to make sure.
    “Cathy?” Doyle called softly from the doorframe, finding her on the edge of the bed. “Are you all right?”
    “Her parents died so fast, Doyle,” she said with her back to him and the doorway. “No warning at all. Just like Maddie’s when she was a baby.”
    Doyle joined her on the side of the bed before saying, “And God gave Maddie to us, and Corina has Dannan.”
    Cathy looked at him, her face surprised. “It was all God’s doing, wasn’t it?”
    “It certainly was,” Doyle agreed. “I wouldn’t have seen it that way six months ago, but it’s clear to me now.”
    “But what about the bad part, Doyle?” Cathy’s mind searched to understand. “If we get to thank God for the good—having Maddie as our own—are we not allowed to blame Him for the loss of your brother and his wife?”
    “That’s an interesting question,” Doyle pondered. His face was thoughtful, and his brow furrowed. “I need you to do something with me,” Doyle said next.
    “What?” Cathy replied, her voice cautious.
    “I want you to go see Douglas with me.”
    Cathy looked as horrified as she felt, but Doyle’s face was determined. She frowned at him a moment but knew there was no fighting it.
    “All right,” she agreed quietly, and when he read how reluctant she was, he put a comforting arm around her. He did not, however, tell her they didn’t have to go.

     
    “How are you doing?” Douglas asked as soon as the children wandered off to play. Alison and Hillary were still in attendance, but Corina played at the far end of the kitchen with 6-year-old Martin Muldoon and 15-month-old Jeffrey.
    “I can’t always tell,” Dannan admitted. “I don’t think the reality of all this has actually hit me.”
    “You’re so busy right now,” Douglas said. “I don’t know if your mind has had time to take it in.”
    Dannan looked thoughtful.
    “What will you do with Corina while you’re working?” Alison asked.
    “She’ll be with Iris Stafford.”
    “Iris does a great job with children,” Hillary put in. “My friend, Mercy, stayed with her after her mother died. They’re still close.”
    Dannan nodded. “My uncle said the same thing. He was so confident that he didn’t even have a second suggestion for me if she said no.”
    A small no was heard from the kitchen, and Dannan excused himself. Douglas followed him.
    “Is there a problem, Corina?”
    “My doll,” she fussed.
    “But you can share it,” Dannan said reasonably. “Even if Marty or Jeff touch it, it’s still yours.”
    The little girl looked as though she didn’t understand.
    “Can you share?” Dannan pressed her.
    “Come here a minute, boys,” Douglas called to his sons. He spoke when they were near the worktable. “At least for today, let’s let Corina keep her doll, okay? Jeff, Marty will remind you if you forget, and you listen to him. Just play with something else.”
    Martin nodded, and when Jeffrey saw it, he nodded too. Douglas smiled tenderly into their faces and thanked them. By that time, Dannan had spoken to Corina. The men met together in the doorway of the parlor, and Douglas was shaking his head a little.
    “I think I need to apologize. I’ve just told my boys to let her have her doll today, and you just told her to share.”
    “It’s all right,” Dannan said with a laugh. “I’m not sure she was taking it in. I think we might need to head home pretty soon and give her a nap.”
    “Or she could lie down here,” Douglas suggested.
    Liking the idea, Dannan’s brows rose and not many minutes later, Hillary had offered to take Corina to the corner of the kitchen, coaxing her into her lap with a storybook. The older girl read and rocked the three-year-old to