Free The Rightful Heir by Angel Moore Page A

left my horse closer to the church. I didn’t know exactly where to look for Grump’s grave.” He stood beside her now. “Please forgive my intrusion on such a private moment.”
    She sniffed and shook her head. “You’ve just as much right to be here as I do.”
    â€œThe stone is nice.” He read the verse below Grump’s name aloud, “‘Also now, behold, my witness is in heaven, and my record is on high.’” He nodded his approval. “Very fitting.”
    â€œIt seemed the best way to honor his work on the paper and his commitment to the Lord.” She turned to Jared. “He loved God. Lived every day hoping to please his Maker. God’s got the record of that.”
    Her eyes glistened in the sun. Her jaw twitched as if Grump were her kin and she felt the need to convince Jared of his character.
    â€œMary Lou, you’ve honored him well.”
    Her face softened a bit at his tone. “Thank you. It’s nothing compared to how he cared for me.”
    She took a step back and indicated the next grave. The stone was weathered but stood straight. Twenty years had faded the color but not the words: Benjamin Ivy. Beloved Husband, Father and Son.
    Tears stung his eyes. He didn’t expect to react physically to seeing his father’s grave. The tears coursed down his cheeks and he dropped to his knees. He didn’t hear Mary Lou walk away. His mind was filled with the flashes of events that made up his memory of his father. A man who stood on the riverbank and taught him to cast a line. A man who laughed when Jared teetered and fell from a hitching post as he tried to walk the straight board while holding his father’s hand. A vague voice that sang in church. A smile for his mother as his father looked over his head at her during the service. His father and Grump laughing at something. Being tossed in the air and the wind swooshing from his lungs as he landed in his father’s strong grasp.
    These snatches in time were the only things he had left of a loving father, but Jared hadn’t really known the man at all.
    Jared mourned at the graves without realizing the passing of time. The legacy these two men had left him had cost them all they’d had. His father had given his life constructing the building. His grandfather had used his life to build the paper. In that moment, at their graves, Jared vowed he would dedicate his life to carrying it on. It was all he could do to honor them.
    Nothing and no one—not even a sweet, determined young woman—would stop him.
    * * *
    Mary Lou didn’t know what was the most sad, Jared’s grief for the loss of his father and grandfather or the fact that he could have known one of them but didn’t. In any case, he suffered from the loss.
    She walked away from him toward the parsonage. Perhaps the preacher’s wife would know if anything of interest was going on in the community. She needed a good story. A trip to see Liza Croft might be a quicker route if Mary Lou was just in search of gossip, but she wanted to spend a few minutes with Peggy Dismuke. The woman’s calm nature always soothed her soul.
    â€œI’m so glad you stopped by today, Mary Lou.” Peggy invited her into the kitchen of the parsonage. “David isn’t home, and I’ve just pulled a cake from the oven. I’ve always believed pound cake should be eaten while it’s still warm. At least the first few slices.” A trill of laughter punctuated her confession.
    â€œIt smells delicious.” Mary Lou pulled off her gloves and reached for the plates Peggy always used for dessert. The parsonage was a place where anyone in the community could come for advice, comfort or just a visit. Most of the ladies in town knew where everything in the kitchen was stored. “I’ve come to ask if you know of any upcoming events or situations that I should include in the next edition of the Record