Free The Love Letters by Beverly Lewis

the baby was sleeping so peacefully in this heat. Going across the hall to the vacant bedroom, she opened the windows wide and returned to do the same in her room—the bedroom where she and Luella had always slept when the family visited.
    Does my sister know who’s taking care of her baby? Marlena sat on the cane-back chair, watching Angela Rose’s little tummy rise and fall. With everything in her, she hoped all would be well with Luella. And silently she beseeched God yet again to watch over her sister. And help those in charge get word to Gordon, too. . . .
    Thinking of the years she and her older sister had come here to help with summer gardening and canning, Marlena waited for the sky to turn completely dark before lying on the bed, pondering the baby’s seeming resistance to her. Tomorrow, anabundance of garden produce and more strawberries would need to be picked and preserved, and then in two days, market day. We need to borrow a stroller from someone, she realized.
    She recalled Ellie’s thoughtful offer that Dorcas could watch Angela Rose. At least there was that. Even so, it was evident to her how ill-prepared she was to look after Luella’s baby for longer than a few days.
    Just then she imagined her poor sister lying in a hospital bed. Is she conscious . . . aware of her situation? And if so, was she missing Angela as much as Angela was clearly missing her?
    Feeling too tired to sleep, Marlena turned over and sighed, mentally composing her next letter to Nat. She wanted to share all of her happiness over his telephone call and the many things that came to her drowsy mind, till at last she fell into a deep sleep.

    Ellie sat on the chair across the room from their bed, wearing her mint green duster. Roman was stretched out on the bed, still muttering things that continued to upset her. How would she ever feel settled enough to rest?
    â€œSmall Jay gets by with a lot,” Roman said grimly.
    â€œI think he’s just forgetful.”
    â€œMaybe he hides behind his disabilities. Have ya considered that?”
    She wanted to say right back to him that it was wrong to utter such unfounded statements. But she’d said enough already this night. Too much. Besides, they weren’t going to solve anything now, not as worn out as they both were.
    So she would just sit there and wait till his first few snores, then slip into bed. At times like this, she thought back to thedays when her husband’s eyes were tender, even mischievous, and she missed that Roman. Oh, did she ever.
    Down the hallway, faint whispers mixed with occasional giggles. Most likely her two youngest girls were feeling warm and restless, sharing a bed in the muggy house. Small Jay and Dorcas each had their own south-facing rooms, where the breezes came more readily through more windows.
    Leaning her head toward the whispers, Ellie smiled, not interested in going to shush Julia and Sally. Such pleasant, familiar sounds.
    Some of us are happy. . . .
    Ofttimes she could hear Small Jay talking in his sleep, sounding a lot like the way he talked to his cat.
    Stretching, she relaxed enough to yawn, thankful for each of her children—though she couldn’t help recalling the stressful discussion with her husband earlier, when she’d returned from visiting Marlena Wenger. I really must count my blessings more and fret far less.

    Ellie awakened suddenly, rigid as kindling. She shook herself and rose from the chair, creeping to the dresser to look at the day clock. One o’clock.
    She’d fallen asleep in Roman’s big armchair. Not the first time, but definitely the longest. Nighttime breezes were beginning to cool the house, and she was glad she’d thought to leave the upstairs windows open. On such a starry night, there was no chance of rain.
    Roman murmured in his sleep. Wearing her slippers, she turned toward the door and stepped into the hall, going to check on the