Sunrise by Karen Kingsbury Page B

companionship and even possibly something more. All of those things were true.
    But all he did was hold her and let her cry.
    Ashley savored the warmth of his body against hers, the way their hearts connected without a word. Because sometimes a heart needed to grieve so it wouldn’t shrivel up and die from sadness. Tears were a way to bring new life to a soul barren from loss. And Landon—in his uncanny ability to love—understood this.
    Which was one more reason why Ashley would love him until the day she died.

John was aware that Ashley hadn’t returned and also that Landon had gone after her. As far as he could tell, none of his other daughters had registered her absence. Which was just as well. All night it had been clear that Ashley wasn’t herself. Whatever was going on in her heart, Landon was the best one to help her through it.
    John figured Ashley was struggling with Elaine’s presence this evening, but he could only pray for her in that matter. Recently she had made great progress in accepting his friend, but the holidays were bound to be hard. Not just for her but for all of them. Tonight none of the others seemed troubled, and only Erin had pulled him aside and asked if something serious was going on.
    “Are you and Elaine . . . seeing each other?” Erin’s tone hadn’t been accusatory but curious and maybe a little sad.
    “Not in the way you mean.” John leaned in and kissed his youngest daughter’s cheek. “We’re friends. We enjoy spending time together.”
    Erin didn’t hesitate. “Good.” She took hold of his hand. “I’m glad for you.”
    And that’s the way Ashley felt most of the time. At least that’s what she’d told him ever since the big work day at Dayne and Katy’s lake house. Ashley had called Elaine and invited her to help.
    “You deserve her friendship,” Ashley had told him later. “I understand.”
    John watched his daughters talking to Katy about the pending wedding shower. Ashley might understand, but her feelings ran deep in every area. Her emotions were bound to vary as Elaine spent more time with the Baxter family. He looked beyond the family room to the kitchen, where Elaine was making coffee. She got along with everyone—in part because she and Elizabeth had been friends for so many years. All those conversations when Elizabeth had shared about her children and their spouses, about her grandchildren, made it easy for Elaine to fit in.
    He leaned back in his chair and gazed out the front window. A fiery red sunset splashed a brilliant glow on the field outside, and for a moment it resembled one of Ashley’s paintings. He sighed. Dear God, my precious Ashley is hurting. I can feel it. Help her understand this next season for each of us. And help her know that we will never lose our connection to Elizabeth. No matter who comes and goes from our lives.
    There was more he wanted to say, more in his heart that he needed to share with his God and Savior. But John heard a high-pitched, singsong voice come up alongside him.
    “Hi, Papa.”
    He looked down into the beaming face of Hayley—Brooke and Peter’s younger daughter. There would never be a time when he wouldn’t look into Hayley’s eyes and remember how she had looked in the hospital bed, hours after nearly drowning. Back then her doctor had talked to Brooke and Peter about signing papers so that Hayley could be an organ donor once her body gave up the fight.
    But God had other plans for little Hayley.
    She was six now, and there were only small signs of the brain damage she suffered while underwater. A slurred word or a limited vocabulary. Her slightly slower way of going about things. But she was still making progress, getting better at feeding herself and using a crayon in her special-education classes. They had their precious Hayley back. She was a miracle. Proof that God would always determine the number of a person’s days—whether they lost a battle to cancer far earlier than anyone had hoped