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"Good. I'll call you tomorrow." With his thumbs, he brushed away the moisture from her cheeks. "No more tears," he whispered. "I hate to see you unhappy enough to cry."
She bravely tried to smile.
"That's better." He kissed her gently and so briefly that it felt like a whisper on her lips.
Carrie hugged herself as Peter turned and left. She closed and locked the door.
"Perfect timing. Just finished the dishes," Mary Ellen called from the kitchen doorway. She walked down the hall and looked at Carrie. "Hey, what's the matter?"
Carrie swallowed hard, trying to gain her voice. "Leaving him is going to be the hardest thing I'll ever have to do in my whole life."
"I don't understand. Why are you leaving?"
"I'm the wrong woman for him. Totally wrong. Do you think his church would welcome a murderer as their minister's wife?"
Carrie turned and ran up the stairs for the second time that day. Only this time she quietly closed the bedroom door, slipped on her nightgown and climbed in between the cool sheets.
The after-rain scents in the night air filtered through the open window beside her bed. She could even smell the fragrant roses climbing the trellis by the back porch.
The crickets chirped constantly with a rhythm that ultimately lulled her to sleep, but not before she'd made up her mind about what to do with the house. She didn't feel she had a choice. She vowed to set the wheels in motion before she went down to breakfast in the morning.
Taking her chosen course of action would be the second hardest thing she would ever have to do.
Chapter Fifteen.
"You're sure this is all you want from the house, Mary Ellen?"
Carrie and Mary Ellen stood beside the dining room table and looked at the aggregate of mostly sterling-silver pieces, neatly stacked on the corner of the table.
"Yeah. Really. These things a.s.sure me of having a couple of pieces to hand down to each of my girls so they'll have something to remember their great-grandma by. That's all I ask. Grandma already gave me that mutual fund which was more than I ever expected. I'm going to keep it to send the girls to college some day."
"Grandma would like that."
"Carrie, I wish you were happier with what she left you. You deserve to be happy because you're the one who's always been here when she needed you. I haven't been able to help with anything."
"You had to go where Frank went because you knew that was the right thing for you. Grandma knew you loved her."
Carrie walked with her to the foyer so they could hear the arrival of the Nordstrom's who'd volunteered to drive Mary Ellen to the airport to save her the bus ride. "I'll pack the things up you're not taking with you now and have them shipped."
"Have you decided what to do with the house?"
"Yeah." Carrie inhaled deeply, fighting the weight of her decision. "I'm going to keep some of the furniture, the pieces I love the best, and sell the rest. I know that if the church ends up buying it, the house will come to life again. A guy like Peter can't stay single too much longer." She tried to sound light and even accented it with a little laugh, but it fell flat.
"Earth to Carolyn Whitmore. h.e.l.lo in there. This is your sister, Mary Ellen, talking, not some total stranger who might believe this line you're pushing. I saw that man kiss you last night." She held up her hands palms-up at Carrie's astonished look. "So I finished the dishes a little quicker than you thought I did. The point is, how can you kiss a wonderful man like that and then tell me the next morning that you're selling the house for him to live in with some other woman? That man loves you. Even I can see that without him telling me. You love him, too, don't you?"
Carrie looked down at her hands clasped at her waist. To keep from saying, "Yes," she bit down on her lips pulled between her teeth until it hurt.
"Of course you do even if you won't say it. And yet you plan to leave him? Have you taken leave of your senses?"
A car horn blaring at the curb precluded any answer to Mary Ellen's angry question.
"There's my ride to the airport and since they were nice enough to drive me, I don't want to keep them waiting. Carrie, please don't do this to yourself. Don't let what Ralph did ruin your life. Peter's a great guy. Give love a chance. Give the people of this town a chance."
There was nothing Carrie could say to explain in a few seconds. Mary Ellen did not understand. Carrie tried to smile, but didn't feel she was doing a good job of it. Her lips trembled. Tears welled in her eyes.
"Bye, Carrie. Will we see you Christmastime?"
"I'll let you know. If I'm just starting at a new job, I may not get more than the day off."
"What do you mean 'a new job'?"
Saved by the car horn again, Carrie didn't have time to explain that either. "Long story. I'll call you."
"Think about what I said, Carrie. But if you don't change your mind, good luck in whatever you find back in Fargo. You know, you could always move to Denver so we'd be closer."
Carrie hugged her sister and thanked her for her concern. They picked up the suitcase and the bag containing two small boxes Mary Ellen had packed to take as a carry-on.
"You'll call to let me know you got home safely?" Carrie asked after greeting the Nordstroms and stowing Mary Ellen's things in the car.
"Sure. Talk to you tonight."
Carrie stood at the road until the car disappeared before she trudged back into the silent house. Her steps on the hallway hardwood floor echoed through the tall-ceilinged rooms.
Looking around, she tried to memorize everything she saw. On the cold and lonely nights ahead in her little apartment, she wanted to be able to close her eyes and mentally walk through the house again and again. She ran her hand over the shiny newel post at the bottom of the wide staircase, remembering how she used to swing on it as a child.
Stepping into the living room, she spotted the photos on the mantle. She and Peter had stood there looking at them while she told him all about her family; Grandma and Grandpa; Mom and Dad; Mary Ellen and her family; and her own university graduation picture. Maddie had once had one of Carrie and Ralph there beside Mary Ellen's. Carrie hoped her grandmother had thrown it out just as she wished she could throw out the memories of their last year. She lifted each photo and looked at the faces staring up at her as she stacked them to set aside to pack.
In the dining room, Carrie opened the gla.s.s door of the wide gla.s.s-front china cabinet that matched the table and chairs. She picked up the little silver teaspoons that Maddie had had for Mary Ellen and then for her when they were babies. She would keep those and try not to wish in the near future that she had children who could use them.
Carrie squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply to compose herself. She'd shed enough tears and yet she had to blink away more. Now she needed to pack up her memories and carry out the remainder of Maddie's wishes.
After consulting the phone book and making a quick trip to the local, trailer-rental place, she came back in an hour with a stack of heavy, corrugated cardboard boxes, padding materials and tape.
The fragrant perfume from the roses greeted her as she pa.s.sed the trellis, as did the lemony wood polish scent at the door. She would always remember the smells of this house and of the fresh air in Sunville in the hot summer or the crisp cold winters, so different from the smell of traffic and cement around her apartment... and she would always remember Peter.
He'd been a rock, she thought, smiling at her unintentional Biblical pun. That was what he was there for, though. He'd told her again just last night. She would do better not to think of him now or she wouldn't get her work done.
Carrie took the first of the flattened boxes stacked against the stairs in the foyer and headed for the dining room. She'd decided to keep the silver flatware with the curly W etched on each piece. The sets were carefully wrapped in special cloth to keep them from tarnishing. She rolled each bundle in the bubble-wrap before putting them in the box. She knew memories would flood back every time she took the pieces out to polish them.
When someone pounded on the back door, Carrie almost dropped the serving fork she was wrapping. She'd barely gotten up and over to the kitchen when the door swung open.
Peter marched across the floor and grasped her shoulders hard. "Carrie, why in the world are you doing it?" His face was red and he was breathing hard through his mouth as if he'd run over from his office. He released her suddenly and stepped back. "I'm sorry." He ran his hand through his hair, mussing it more than the run had. "Can we talk for a minute?"
He pulled out a chair for her and urged her to sit. He stood behind her and stroked her shoulders in warm circles as if to make up for grabbing them moments before.
Carrie had never seen him so upset. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"I came over here, furious with you, but I guess you know that. How could you do it?"
"I don't have a clue what you're asking about." She held her hands out palms up as she turned her head to look up at him. "How could I do what?"
"This house." He came around to face her. He pulled out a second chair to sit facing her. Their knees b.u.mped and Carrie moved hers aside. She felt cold without his hands on her shoulders. Lowering her head slowly, she looked at her hands rather than at him.
"This house that you love... How could you put it on the market for sale?"
"Oh, that."
"Yes, that. Carolyn, how could you sell it?"
"Because I can't rent it." She glanced up to see his blank expression.
"Can you run that by me again, please?"
"The will... Maddie's will states I can't rent the house to anyone--unless it's after I live in here for at least a year. Then I can do what I please with it. Otherwise, I have to sell it now."
"You love this house. Why not live here?"
"Everything's so simple in your eyes, isn't it, Peter? Well, my life is not simple. Yes, I love this house. I've always wanted to live here, to raise a family here."
He shrugged. "Then don't leave it."
"You think I should move in now, huh? Well, how do I pay for the heat and electricity once my savings and my small inheritance are gone? How do I put food on my table? I haven't studied the yellow pages, but last time I looked, there were no publishing companies around here. Commuting to Fargo for hours each day would be a little tough, especially in the winter when it's thirty-five below zero. The last place I'd want to be then is on the highway driving home all alone in the dark."
"Carrie, you..."
She didn't let him interrupt. "Or should I get a job as a check-out girl at the big grocery store just to have the privilege of living here?"
Carrie jumped up and took two gla.s.ses from the cabinet and plopped them down loudly on the counter. She jerked open the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher, splashing some of the iced tea on the floor. She groaned.
Peter jumped up and took the pitcher from her and filled the gla.s.ses before returning the pitcher more carefully to the refrigerator.
Carrie stood there taking a sip of her tea and trying to calm down. Her hands were trembling and made the liquid in her gla.s.s slosh against the side.
"Then marry me," Peter said calmly as he grabbed a paper towel to wipe up the spill from the floor. "Let me pay for the heat and electricity."
Carrie choked on her iced tea. She slammed the gla.s.s down in the sink and grasped the edge of the counter for support as she coughed and tried to clear her airway.
With one hand on the back of her neck, Peter forced her to lean over as he slapped her on the back. "Are you okay?"
Her coughing under control, she nodded her head. Peter slackened his hold and she straightened. He handed her a clean paper towel to wipe away tears that had fallen during the coughing fit. She sniffled and blew her nose. Another sip of tea soothed her throat, raw from choking.
Peter leaned against the counter watching her. He folded his arms across his chest and crossed his legs at his ankles. "That isn't exactly how I pictured the woman I love responding when I asked her to marry me, ya know."
Carrie had to smile, but hated to. "Oh, Peter, please don't make this tougher than it is already."
"Tougher? What do you mean?"
"I... I can't marry you. I've told you since the first day we met that I can't stay here."
"I love you, Carolyn, and despite the fact that you haven't said you love me in so many words, I know you do."
Carrie's lips hurt from biting them so hard, but she had to do something to keep from saying the three little words. It just wouldn't be fair to tell him that she loved him. She didn't want to hurt him any more than she had already.
"Why can't you marry me? It's the perfect solution. Maddie wanted the pastor to live here and raise a family. I want you to be the wife and mother in that happy family group."
"I can't be your wife, Peter," she whispered hoa.r.s.ely. "I'm just not the right woman for you. You don't know all there is to know about me. I could never be a minister's wife."
Carrie fought the tears that stung her eyes. No more tears, she vowed. She'd wept more in the last month and a half than she had in all the years since her parents died. She had to learn to be strong again. She wouldn't have Peter to lean on anymore.
"Whoa. Wait just a little minute here." Peter put his hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him.
Carrie looked up, knowing he would make her eventually anyway.
"What did you just say?"
"It wouldn't work," she said, jerking out of his hand and dropping into a chair at the table.
"Why not?"
"Please believe me. It just wouldn't work."
"You said that, but I think I'm ent.i.tled to know why you think that. Carolyn, you're the only woman I've ever wanted to be my wife. And I know you love me."
She sniffed and pressed her knuckles against her lips to keep from telling him that she loved him with all her heart. Maybe if he doubted that she did, it would be easier for him to walk away from her, to find someone more suitable to be his wife.
"I can't love you. I can't stay here." She shook her head. "I can't explain, but I certainly can't marry anyone to pay the electric bill!"
Peter leaned on his palm on the table beside her. "Patience isn't my biggest attribute, Carolyn, but I'll give you all the time you want. I promise."
"Peter, you just don't understand. It's not a matter of time. It's me!"
"Then help me to understand. Tell me why!"
Carrie felt something inside her snap. She stood and faced him. "I cannot live here in Sunville. Period. I can't marry you because I can't be the role-model that a pastor's wife should be. And I'm not going to stay around and let my reputation hurt yours. In fact, I... I'm leaving Sunville for good this weekend." A sob almost stole her breath away. "I'll probably never come back to Sunville again." Carrie turned and ran up the stairs to her room. She wasn't strong enough to hear what he would say next, and she couldn't stand to see the hurt in his eyes for one more minute.
Peter deserved more--much more in a woman for a wife.
She threw herself on the bed and buried her face in the pillow. Was there no end to her tears?
"Hurry up in there, will you?" a man's voice shouted through the closed bathroom door.