Read Online Daughter of Joy by Kathleen Morgan - Free Book Online

were sent to Culdee Creek, rather than to a household that doesn’t need you as badly as this one does. And maybe it’s time that you, too, begin to fill the lovesick hole inside of you.”
    Abby frowned in puzzlement. Then, as realization dawned as to the possible meaning of Ella’s words, her cheeks flamed hot. “If you think I came here in the hopes of snaring a husband—”
    “No, that’s not what I mean at all, Abby.” Ella laughed ruefully and shook her head. “Sometimes people can help each other. And who can better understand pain, loneliness, and confusion than someone who’s experienced it themself?”
    When Abby didn’t respond, Ella sighed. “It was that way for Devlin and me. I met him about six months after I’d been widowed. It was at an Episcopal Church social in Grand View. He was so kind and patient with me, and it didn’t hurt a bit”—she grinned—“that he was one of the best looking men around. As I got to know Devlin better, though, I discovered he had his dark side. The bottle.”
    Ella’s admission shocked Abby. She’d met Devlin MacKay yesterday when he’d stopped by briefly, while she was moving in, to introduce himself and welcome her to Culdee Creek. Even at that first meeting, she’d had to agree that he was indeed—after Conor MacKay, of course—one of the best looking men around.
    Though nearly as tall as his boss, Culdee Creek’s foreman carried a few more pounds of muscled bulk. His face was craggier, his nose had been broken, and his hands were broad, with short fingers. A working man’s hands, her father would have said.
    Devlin MacKay’s eyes were a rich, warm brown, his gaze open and friendly. His dark brown hair was thick and wavy. A long, lush mustache graced his upper lip, dipping well past the corners of his mouth. It lent him, Abby had to admit, a certain look not unlike some desperado. But, as soon as he threw back his head and laughed, the sinister impression was immediately dispelled.
    Charming desperado that he might seem, Devlin was a far less intimidating man than Conor MacKay could ever hope to be.
    “What did you do? About his drinking, I mean?” Abby prodded, Ella’s startling revelation stirring her interest.
    “He’d just lost his father, Conor’s father’s younger brother. I tried to be there for him, to listen and care. I guess, in the end, we helped each other. As we fell in love, we both found the strength to overcome most of our failings. Overcome them for the sake of the other.”
    “I’m happy for you, ” Abby muttered, suddenly and unaccountably jealous. If only Thomas had been willing to do that for her—a pat on the hand and chaste kiss on the cheek weren’t always what a wife needed most from a husband, especially when times got rough. “It doesn’t work that way for all of us, though.”
    “It doesn’t always work for us, either.” Ella looked down at her mug and began to swirl its contents. “Devlin and I have our problems. He still drinks sometimes when things between us go sour.” She lifted her gaze. “But I know he loves me, and he keeps trying. I have to love him back for that. Love him, and trust that everything will eventually be as it’s meant to be.”
    A deep sadness darkened Ella’s brown eyes. Yet intermingled with that was a peace and joy. Her new friend had had her share of pain and suffering, Abby realized, but she hadn’t let it defeat her, or send her running. It hadn’t shriveled her soul.
    Shame flooded Abby. She had lost much, in the death of her son and husband. She’d lost family, a sense of her place and purpose on this earth, and all her hopes and dreams for the future. The very underpinnings of her life had been wrenched from beneath her. But these weren’t reasons to give up. These weren’t reasons, but still the way back sometimes seemed next to impossible.
    Abby took a deep draught of her cooled tea. The brew was strong and aromatic, tasting of lavender and rich black tealeaves.