Thankful by Shelley Shepard Gray Page A

not your fault.”
    â€œOf course it was. I was older. I was supposed to look out for you.”
    â€œWhy would you think that?”
    â€œWhy wouldn’t I?”
    â€œYou didn’t live with me. You were only my friend. No one asked you to watch over me.”
    He bit his tongue so he wouldn’t say something dumb and admit how even back then he’d felt something special about her. Instead, he looked ahead, looked at the snow falling heavily, at the number of cars slipping and sliding on the slushy roads, and at the sun setting in the midst of it all.
    â€œI think we need to go a back way home. I don’t trust these automobiles. And Maisey seems especially uneasy. I have a feeling she might get spooked.”
    And just like that, she became her usual sweet self again. “Of course. Whatever you think is best, Aden.”
    When he could, he veered the buggy right and directed Maisey down a far less congested road. That was good. The road was already a bit packed with snow, giving both Maisey’s hooves and the buggy’s wheels something easier to grip.
    But it also was taking them a bit off their direct route. “We’re going to be really late now. Maybe even an hour late.”
    â€œIt will be okay.”
    â€œI don’t want your parents to worry about you.”
    â€œMy parents know I’m with you. And Aden, if they worry, they’re going to worry about both of us,” she said gently.
    He knew what she meant. But he also knew that his role in the house was to take care of her. His muscles tensed as the wind picked up fifteen minutes later and the horse started having more difficulty pulling the buggy. “If it gets worse we might have to let Maisey loose and then walk home.”
    â€œI figured that.”
    After another ten minutes, he gave up the fight. “I don’t want to hurt her. Will you be all right if we walk?”
    â€œI’ll be fine, Aden.” Then, to his surprise, she reached over and gripped his hand. “I know you’re worried about me getting hurt or sick, but you shouldn’t.”
    â€œOf course I’m going to worry.”
    â€œAden, listen to me. I’m not a little girl anymore,” she said softly. “When you grew up, I did, too. Please stop thinking of me like I am a fragile, delicate child. I’m a grown woman.”
    She wasn’t fragile; she was special. He knew the difference. But he also realized that she had a point. She was a grown woman—which was exactly why he was trying to move out of her house. “I know you’re not a child. And I know you’re not all that delicate. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
    â€œThen it won’t,” she whispered. “We’ll get through this together.”
    He hoped that was the case as he finally gave in to the reality of their situation, parked the buggy well off to the side of the road, and unhitched Maisey. Maisey was a smart horse and knew all the back roads around the farm better than any of them did. He knew she would make her way home across the fields in probably half the time that it would take him and Christina.
    After making sure Christina was as bundled as possible, he steeled himself. “Let’s go. With the Lord’s help we should get back home within the hour.”
    â€œAn hour’s walk is nothing. A piece of cake,” she joked.
    Then just as he was searching for the right words to try to alleviate her worries, she turned and started walking at a brisk pace. Leading the way.
    And for the first time in recent memory, he was content to follow.

chapter nine
    Oh, but those first few hours with James had been a delight! An awkward, nerve-racking, wonderful delight!
    Bernie had stayed with them for a full two hours, helping Judith and Ben change James’s diaper, feeding him a bottle, and setting him down for a nap.
    Judith was amazed by the social worker’s ability to