Daughter of Joy Read Online Free PDF Page A

struggled to shrug off the sympathy and swell of compassion her words stirred. Her grief wasn’t any more unique or heartwrenching than what many others experienced, he told himself. It was life, and life was often brutal, unfair.
    “And your husband?” He was determined to know it all and be done with it. “How did he die?”
    “A railroad accident two years ago this July. A bridge collapsed. Thomas was killed trying to rescue the engineer’s wife and child.”
    “So, in two year’s time you’ve lost everything.”
    Not everything, Mr. MacKay, Abby thought. I still have the Lord.
    Yet sometimes, God forgive her, she could not help but rage at the Lord for what had happened. Then, other times, Abby couldn’t help but feel envy. Thomas and Joshua were safe and happy in heaven, while she had to remain here—alone and bereft. Sometimes, there seemed nothing left her: no joy, no peace, no semblance whatsoever of the life she had once known.
    There were even times, in her darkest moments, when she longed most ardently to die and join them. But Abby knew it could never be. It wasn’t yet her time.
    Sadness and guilt, tinged with a deep sense of despair, rose to overwhelm her. Her defiant bravado on the journey with Nelly to Culdee Creek last week to the contrary, Abby was no longer certain she really did run toward the Lord anymore. When had she wandered from the true path? When Thomas died? After she had lost Joshua?
    “Yes, Mr. MacKay, ” Abby forced herself to reply finally. “In two years’ time, I’ve lost nearly everything.” Everything, she silently added, but my faith in God.
    Conor gripped the buckboard reins until his knuckles turned white. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Stanton, ” he muttered, feeling inane but not knowing what else to say. “But at least your husband died a hero. There must be some comfort in that.”
    She fell quiet for a long moment. “Thomas followed the Lord the best way he knew how, ” she finally said.
    He shot her a quick, quizzical look. Somehow, that flat, unemotional comment wasn’t what he’d expected. He wanted to delve deeper. There was more to her former marital relationship than what first appeared, but to ask was to care, and Conor didn’t dare let himself care. In the end, it was enough that she stayed for a time and did the job—and only the job—for which she had been hired.
    On a sudden impulse, he halted his team of horses. “Your mention of God, ” Conor growled, turning to face her. “That brings to mind the second matter I want to discuss with you, Mrs. Stanton.”
    “Yes, Mr. MacKay?”
    “I don’t go to church. I don’t believe in God. And I’ll be”—he caught himself before the word escaped—“I won’t tolerate any talk of God in my house, much less any attempt by you to convert me or my daughter. Is that clear, Mrs. Stanton?”
    She didn’t blink an eyelash. “Quite clear, Mr. MacKay.”
    Confusion, followed swiftly by exasperation, flooded him. “Then why did you tell Beth she was precious in God’s eyes?”
    “Because I believe it. Because she seemed so vulnerable, so certain of my rejection.” Abigail inhaled a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I offended you. But let me assure you it came from the heart. I love Beth because God loves her.”
    Conor gritted his teeth. Blast her, she was doing it again, and they hadn’t even reached the ranch!
    “Suit yourself.” Slapping the reins over the team’s back, he urged them onward. “Just keep your religious beliefs to yourself from here on out. Neither Beth nor I are interested.”
    “I try never to force my personal beliefs on others, Mr. MacKay. But I cannot pretend to hide their importance in my daily life, either. That much you should know and understand about me.”
    He drew in a raw, ragged breath. “Fine. Fine. Just as long as we understand each other.”
    “Oh, I think we do, Mr. MacKay.” A tiny smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. “I think, at long last,