Free Learning to Love by Catherine Harper Page B

found a new appreciation for its speed and noise. Going from something that had taken two of the most important people from her, it was now doing the opposite for her. Every mile speeding through the landscape was bringing her to a new life and new love. Looking out the window she smiled as she lost herself in a daydream thinking about what lay ahead for her.  
     
     

Chapter 3
    Pulling into the station, Mary cast an eye over the people on the platform and looked for James. Confused by his absence, she thought nothing of it and excitedly grabbed her luggage. Going to the steps and leaving it at the doorway, she climbed down the steps backwards and flattened down her dress. Now happier with her appearance she found an arm reach past her and take her bag from the train. Turning around to thank the stranger for his help, she found a man with a solemn look on his face.
    "Are you Mary?"
    "Yes. Who's asking?"
    "Mary Samuels?"
    "Yes, what is this?"
    Holding out a hand to shake, he replied. "I'm Robert, James brother."
    Mary took the hand. "Pleased to meet you." Looking past him and finding him alone, she asked. "Where is he? Is he delayed?"
    "I don't know how to say this-"
    Hearing the words Mary knew whatever came next wouldn't be something she'd want to hear. "Oh God, what is it?"
    "Maybe it's best if we find a seat," Robert said and gestured to a nearby bench.
    Led to it, Mary sat down and tried to read his face for an answer. Taking a moment as if searching for the right words, Mary found her impatience got the better of her. "What is it? Where is he?"
    Clearing his throat before beginning, Robert said, "I'm afraid James died two days ago. He was buried this morning.—I'd hoped you would have gotten the letter I'd sent-"
    "This is a mistake," Mary said, shaking her head. "He can't be. I-"
    "He hurt himself a few days ago. He'd been felling trees, clearing the spot he'd planned on building your home. One tree didn't fall the way he wanted it to. Although it missed him, he was left with a nasty gash on his leg. We thought we got him to the doctor in time, but with the blood loss and everything.—I'm so sorry, Mary. He was so excited about you and him…"
    Mary didn't listen to anything more he said, watching his lips move she was lost to what words came out. Looking to the train she watched it pull from the station and leave her behind. Thinking of how happy she was when it pulled in, she watched her life with James travel on without her.
    "Mary, are you OK?"
    Feeling numb, she found herself reply. "I'd like to see his grave, please."
    "I understand."
    Nodding his head, Mary watched him pick up her bag in silence and led the way. 
     
    *****
    Standing at the freshly dug grave, Mary bent down and put her hand on the soft dirt. Wiping away a tear, she knew this would be the closest she'd ever get to touching James. Feeling the dirt in her hands now brought the wave of emotion she'd been holding back. Losing herself in a sorrow she hadn't felt since she'd lost her parents, Mary cried for all she was worth. Shaking with emotion, she cried not only for the loss of James but for everything that had left with him. She'd left Oak Grove with the meager savings she'd put away from her teaching job, but it wouldn't be enough to keep her on her own for much longer. Putting that to the back of her mind Mary felt embarrassed that she'd been thinking of herself when James had lost his life doing something for her. Reaching to a bunch of freshly cut flowers she took one and held it in her hand. Looking over it like she'd never paid attention to a flower before, she felt Robert's hand on her shoulder. Looking to him, she found him holding out a hand. Helping her back on her feet, Mary apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-."
    Robert shook his head. "It should be me apologizing to you. I wish I'd gone to help him that day. If I had, maybe we both wouldn't be meeting under these circumstances."
    Looking to her hands and the dirt on them,