“What then? Why did you stop coming to church?”

Mitch scrounged for the right words. “I hated the sympathy. People would be talking and laughing in a group, and then when I would walk up, they’d get all serious. And they would say such stupid things. One woman would come up to me out of nowhere and say I needed to wait at least one full year before getting remarried. Like it’s in the Bible or something. Five minutes later, another woman would come along and tell me about her hairdresser or niece or whatever who was single and looking to settle down.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, and I couldn’t tell you how many times I had to listen to ‘We can’t question God’s plan’ or ‘Just be thankful she isn’t suffering anymore.’ Once Bea left for school, I didn’t have the strength to keep putting myself through all that. Couldn’t sit there in the pew and listen to everyone singing without Caroline’s voice.”

“I understand.” Frank folded his arms on the desk. “But we need other people in our lives, Mitch. To help us carry our burdens. That’s how God made us.”

Mitch checked the time and frowned. He could carry his own burdens. And what about Frank? Everyone was always dumping their burdens on him, not helping to carry them.

“Look, I gotta go.” He stood. “Time to get back to work.”

“Please don’t blow off what I said.”

“I’ll think about it.” Mitch moved toward the door. “Good to see you, Frank.”

He dashed out of the office and into the parking lot. Ralph would grumble at him if he was late. As he strode to his truck, he replayed Frank’s words in his head. “We need other people in our lives.” Frank meant well, but he had no idea what it was like to feel like an outsider in your own hometown. To feel like you no longer belonged to the same world as everyone else. He longed for his wife like the fields longed for rain.

At least Bea was back. Maybe he wasn’t much of a friend or church member anymore, but he could help her get her life back on track, couldn’t he? She didn’t want to work at the Food Farm forever. She didn’t know what was best for herself or her baby. And it couldn’t be true that she didn’t care about finishing college. He didn’t know why she’d quit, but he was going to find out. It was the least he could do.

He started his truck with a renewed sense of purpose. He and Caroline had had such dreams for their daughter. Dreams that reached beyond the confines of Moose Creek. Beyond the Food Farm and Friday night football games. Caroline had even named her after two female pioneers in engineering with those dreams in mind.