So I waited until the very end, until everyone else was gone, and then I had to go to the front of the church and look at that wonderful man in his coffin, with his silver hair and a face that had a sweetness and grace even in death. I put a finger on my lips, and then I put that finger on his lips, and I whispered through my tears, “Thank you, Tom.”

And when I turned to go, there you were in front of me.

Shelby. My little baby, now thirty-five years old. The sheriff of this county in your crisp, pressed uniform. Courageous, lovely, even when you were heartsick with grief. You’d just lost your father, and I was the woman who’d given you away.

“Hello,” you said to me.

It was the first time my daughter had ever spoken to me, and I had to choke out my own reply. “Hello.”

“I’m Shelby. Tom’s child.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Have we met before? You look familiar to me.”

“No, I’m sure we haven’t. My name’s Rebecca. Rebecca Colder.”

“How did you know my father?”

I tried to figure out what to say. How do you say anything, when your heart is so full and so broken at the same time?

“A long time ago, he saved my life,” I said.

“How did he do that?”

I wanted to tell you the truth, Shelby, because the truth was simple. By saving you. But nothing about my life was simple.

“I was in trouble a long time ago, and he got me out of it,” I said.

“I’m glad.”

“He was a wonderful man.”

“Yes, he was.” Then you added, “I was very lucky to have him.”

“I’m sure he felt the same way about you,” I said, wishing I could reach out and take your hand. Hug you. Put my hands on your cheeks. Tell you about that day in the snow with Tom and the little Easter basket and the hundreds of letters to you that are still in a box under my bed.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I went on.

“Thank you.”

That really should have been all. That should have been the end. I wasn’t about to ask you or God for anything more. I’d already been blessed far more than I deserved in life. So I took a last glance at Tom’s peaceful face, I smiled into my daughter’s lovely dark eyes, and I walked away down the aisle of the church to live the rest of my life alone.

That was when you called after me, Shelby.