When the last of Maddie's mourners including Bette and Bill Bolton had walked over and taken their places around the coffin, Peter, standing at the head of the casket, began to read from a small leather-bound black book in his hands.

The rain didn't let up. Most people had come prepared with umbrellas. The funeral director and her a.s.sistant pa.s.sed large black ones to Carrie and Mary Ellen. Peter stepped over to stand under the umbrella Carrie raised to accommodate him, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. She was glad that he had because the brief service was easier to get through with his strong arm pressing against her shoulder. She drew on his strength and found it easier to cope with her grief.

Nearly all the mourners returned to the house afterwards. Carrie was glad to have this time with Maddie's friends and people who had been friends of Carrie's parents. This was a special time in which she could remember Maddie without memories of Ralph intruding.

The women's fellowship from Peter's church served supper. They insisted that Carrie and Mary Ellen stay with their guests while they did all the kitchen work. Each woman had brought a ca.s.serole or dessert. One had even baked several dozen fresh yeast rolls to serve with the smoked ham that another had brought.

The women prepared the buffet on the dining room table and when the guests had all eaten, they cleaned it up. The remainder of the food was placed in Maddie's dishes and left for Carrie and Mary Ellen to eat so they wouldn't have to worry about cooking anything for a few days. When the women were done in the kitchen, it was immaculate and the refrigerator was filled with delicious homemade goodies.

Feeling a deep sense of loss and grief after the last visitors and Peter had left the house, Carrie and Mary Ellen were more than ready for a quiet time alone together.

However, since Mary Ellen had a return flight the next day, Maddie's attorney had agreed to come back in an hour to explain what had to be done to settle Maddie's affairs. The attorney, like the doctor, was a long-time friend of Maddie's. Sensing that he felt her pa.s.sing as a loss, too, Carrie and Mary Ellen sat silently listening to him explain the will.

At first none of what he read really surprised them. There were generous gifts to various charities including the Sunville Community Church. Finally, he read the part that directly concerned the sisters.

"Mary Ellen?" He nodded in her direction. "Your grandmother gave you her mutual fund and a selection of what mementos you want to keep from the house for yourself and for each of your daughters. Maddie wrote that she was sure that you and your sister could decide what each wanted to keep."

Mary Ellen looked at Carrie and they nodded in agreement that they certainly could work something out. "It would be nice to have something for the girls to keep from their great-grandmother," Mary Ellen admitted.

"Definitely," Carrie agreed with a smile.

"And to Carrie," the attorney went on with another nod, this time in her direction. The sisters looked up to see a frown on his face.

The attorney cleared his throat and looked directly at Carrie. "Maddie left you this house and the contents, along with the cash balance from savings left after the estate is settled and taxes are paid."

Carrie's eyes widened. Her heart beat echoed in her ears. She clutched her hands on her lap. They felt cold.

The house.

Carrie had loved the house since she was a child, but what would she do with it? She couldn't live in it. There was no publishing company where she could work in Sunville, not even a weekly newspaper. Everyone read papers from Bismarck or Valley City. Working there and commuting was out of the question with the North Dakota winters.

The house and all the antique furnishings--how could she part with all the beautiful things that had been in her family for generations? She loved the little walnut tables by Grandma's chair with the wreaths inlaid on the top in lighter wood; the huge cedar-lined chest that Grandpa had given Grandma as a wedding gift; the hurricane lamps on the mantle with the crazed-gla.s.s chimneys that they had used in the parlor before the house was wired for electricity.

She couldn't part with them, but she certainly couldn't afford any apartment that would hold everything. What would she do? she wondered as she drew in a jagged breath.

"There's more," the attorney went on to say. Carrie's head snapped up as she listened.

"Should you choose to sell the house and the contents you don't wish to keep, Carrie, your grandmother left that option open to you. However, there is a right of first refusal that is given to the Sunville Community Church. Since the house is right behind the church, I believe your grandmother thought it would make a good home for the minister and his family."

The minister and his family.

Peter's family.

Oh, G.o.d, why are you doing this to me?

Carrie felt lightheaded as she thought of Peter living here with his wife and children. She closed her eyes for a moment to erase the image and swallowed hard.

"I must add that Maddie has insisted that the offer made to the church be at a reduced price," the attorney continued. "She didn't want you to feel badly, but she didn't want so much of the church's money going to buy the house when she thought their dollars were better spent elsewhere."

Carrie nodded. She felt numb.

"On the other hand, she wanted you to have the home that she knew you loved, or, if you chose it, a nest egg from selling the house that you could invest, so she didn't will it to the church outright. She instructed me to inform them of the provision immediately if you decide to sell."

Carrie shook her head as if that would deny what she was hearing. "Oh, Grandma," she whispered.

"Carrie? I'm sorry, but you have only thirty days in which to decide what to do."

"What? A month? No," Carrie said weakly. "No, I don't. I have to get back to Fargo to my job if I still have one, or else I have to start looking for one. How can I make such a decision in a day or two?" "Oh, hon, what are you going to do?" Mary Ellen laid her hand on Carrie's arm. "I know how you love this old place." Mary Ellen looked up at the attorney. "What about renting it? Can she rent it for a while so she could decide later?" "I'm sorry. Maddie and I discussed the old houses like this one that get neglected and destroyed in the hands of renters with absentee landlords. She willed that you keep it to live in yourself or sell it now. However, if you choose to live in the house and you stay here for a year, then you are free to do whatever you want with it after that time, including renting."

Carrie leaned against the back of her chair. "Move in or sell it?"

Mary Ellen offered no additional suggestions. She just chewed on her lip and frowned.

"Well," the attorney remarked into the thick silence. "I can see that I've given you both a good deal to

think about. Mary Ellen, you'll hear from me as soon as I can affect the transfer of the fund to your name."

"Thank you. I leave early tomorrow. You have my address?"

"Yes. I've kept up to date on where both of you live." He closed his briefcase and gripped the handle.

"Thank you for coming this evening so I could talk with you in person," Mary Ellen said.

"Have a good flight home." He turned to Carrie. "Call me when you've decided what to do with the house." Raising his hand when the sisters started to rise to see him out, he added, "No, stay where you are. I'll let myself out."

"What are you going to do, Carrie?" Mary Ellen asked softly after he left.

What was she going to do indeed? After a lifetime in the family, how could she possibly turn this house over to strangers? But if the church bought it?

The minister and his family. The words echoed in her head. Tears burned in her eyes.

Peter would be living here with... with his wife and family... and his wife would not be Carolyn. His

children would not be her children.

Feeling overwhelmed, Carrie stood abruptly and ran up the stairs. Her tears blurred her vision and

overflowed down her cheeks. She slammed the bedroom door behind her, something she hadn't done since high school, something she'd never done in her grandmother's house.

But this wasn't her grandmother's house. The realization hit her the same time she hit the mattress in a

flying leap onto her stomach.

"Oh, Grandma, what have you done? I know you gave me the house because I love it, but how can I keep it? And how could I bear to have Peter living here without me?"

Sobs racked her body and eventually she fell asleep.

# Carrie wasn't sure if it was the cool of the evening or the voices downstairs that woke her. Her stiff muscles objecting, she got up and walked down the hall to the bathroom where she splashed cool water on her face and affected some order to her hair. She couldn't get the puffiness out of her eyelids and quickly gave up. Only time and no more crying could do that. Judging from the way she felt, that might be a while. "Here she is," Mary Ellen announced cheerily as Carrie made her way into the brightly-lit kitchen. "Peter was just going to give up seeing you tonight and let you sleep through until morning." Carrie blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the light. She smiled weakly in his direction. "I feel tired enough to." Peter had risen when she entered the room and now moved to stand beside her. "How are you doing?" Carrie took a deep breath. "Oh, I'll make it. I'm just feel so tired." "Have you eaten since the food after the funeral?" he asked. She shook her head. "That's what I thought," he said, his tone of voice chastising her. He put his arm around her shoulder and, holding her against his side, walked her over to the table where she sat down under the gentle insistence of each of his hands on her shoulders.

Without thinking, Carrie lowered her cheek to caress the back of his hand before he let go of her.

When she glanced at her sister seconds later, she found Mary Ellen watching the two of them. "What?

What's wrong, Mary Ellen?"

A smile appeared on Mary Ellen's face and a laugh erupted. "Nothing. From where I'm sitting, there's

nothing wrong at all."

Mary Ellen stood up and went to the refrigerator. "You hungry too, Peter? I think the ladies in your church have brought us a bowl of everything you could want. We can nuke it and eat in no time. You'll join us, won't you?

"I'd like that," he said.

Several hundred calories later, Carrie leaned back in her chair and sighed. "For not feeling hungry, I sure ate a lot. You can't possibly leave in the morning, Mary Ellen. I'll never finish all this food by myself."

"Doesn't look to me like you'll be eating it alone," she responded pointedly, carrying the plates to the

sink.

Peter laughed. "Now if I could just get Carrie to see it that way," he added, taking his own plate over.

He leaned against the counter beside the sink. "You know, Mary Ellen, I got double lucky when I

accepted the call to the Sunville Community Church. No, change that. Triple lucky. I came to a church with a congregation of caring and sincere people, and secondly, lots of them are good cooks. I don't have to eat my own cooking all the time." He patted his flat tummy and grinned. "So what's the third lucky part?" Mary Ellen asked as she placed their cups and plates in the dishwasher.

"I met your sister," he answered simply as he straightened and walked back to the table.

"She's something special, all right," Mary Ellen offered.

Peter stepped over to place his palms on the edge of the table facing Carrie and smiled. "She is."

Carrie's nostrils flared with the deep breath she took. "Enough you two. It's getting awfully deep in here."

She stood, the last to take dishes to the sink. Turning back, she saw Peter reach for the dish towel.

"No you don't, Peter. Mary Ellen and I can handle the dishes without putting you to work drying.

You've already done so much for us." She took the towel from him and set it on the counter. "That's what I'm here for, but as long as you don't mind, I'm going to head home. My sermon preparation time was cut a lot this week. I've got to make up for it or the afore-mentioned friendly congregation may revolt and walk out on me."

"If anyone walks out on you," Mary Ellen offered pointedly, "they're crazy, Peter."

Peter smiled and reached for Carrie's hand. "Walk me to the front door?"

Carrie nodded and walked down the hall with him.

Beside the front door, he took her hands in his. "I wish I could make this less painful for you."

"I know," she whispered. "Thank you."

"We'll have to rethink what we had planned for this weekend."

Carrie frowned.

"This is the July 4th weekend coming up."

"I hadn't made that connection."

"You've got enough on your mind. Anyway, you still don't have to go to work Monday on the holiday, do you?"

She shook her head. She didn't want to tell him she didn't think she had a job to go back to on Tuesday either. No need for anyone else worrying about her.

"Will you spend time this weekend with me? It won't be the same as we hoped when we planned this weekend in your apartment, but we've got Friday, Sat.u.r.day and Sunday, except for the morning in church, of course, and Monday before you go back."

Carrie chewed on her lower lip as she thought of all the reasons she should say no, but if she went back to no job, she might be moving to a new one in Minneapolis or anywhere.

"I know you have things to do to take care Maddie's affairs, and there's my sermon. We'll both be busy, but may I come see you when you're free? I can help you... help you with whatever you have to do."

He put his hands on each side of her jaw, his fingers splayed around her ears. "I just want to spend as much time as possible with you before you go back to Fargo."

Carrie couldn't speak. The lump in her throat threatened to cut off her breathing as completely as it had her voice. Hating herself for being weak and taking advantage of his comforting presence while she was still here, she splayed her hands on his chest and nodded.

How could she say no? She wanted... she needed these last few days with Peter. When she left town Monday morning, there would be no reason to ever return. The memories of this weekend would have to last her a lifetime. She hoped Peter would forgive her someday for her selfishness.