“I have all the time in the world. Let’s do this.”

20

KATHLEEN

ALBUQUERQUE~WINSLOW, ARIZONA

Our baby was born today. A little girl. We named her Hannah Elizabeth Kathleen. Perhaps you’ll think that foolish, or even thoughtless, but it’s important to me. Adam resisted. I suppose he didn’t want to be reminded, but I will always think of you as my true and best friend, even though I no longer have the right to call you that.

Kathleen stared out the window as they headed through the deserts of northern Arizona and took a scenic detour through the Petrified Forest National Park.

They’d set out early so that Martha and Josh could do a short hike, which their research had told them was best done early in the day. The hour was irrelevant to Kathleen, who hadn’t slept at all.

Somehow the rhythm of the car and the blur of the landscape was more relaxing than a still, silent hotel room filled with nothing but her thoughts.

They drove to the trailhead for the Blue Mesa Trail that wound its way to the valley floor.

“It’s not far, so we shouldn’t be long, Kathleen. Is that okay?” Even though it was early, Martha pulled on her sun hat and smothered her arms in sunscreen.

“Take your time. Enjoy.” She was looking forward to being alone so that she could spend time with her thoughts and memories.

She waved Martha and Josh off, delighted to see that Josh took Martha’s hand, and stepped closer as he pointed out something on the horizon.

The view was spectacular, but Kathleen stared at it for only a few seconds before closing her eyes.

Hannah Elizabeth.

Ruth had become a mother at twenty-one years of age, and Adam a father.

What a challenge that must have been for him, and yet it seemed he’d risen to that challenge.

She’d lain awake all night thinking about the letters Liza had carefully read aloud. Her memory was unreliable and frustrating much of the time, but for some reason she’d been able to recall every word and she’d reexamined the contents line by line.

She’d been able to picture Ruth clearly. She’d heard her friend’s voice in the words on the page, measured and thoughtful. There was an assurance by the end that had been missing in those early letters.

Kathleen had absorbed every one of the facts, delivered in chronological order. Each letter had been an update on Ruth’s life, another piece of the picture revealed.