A cold drizzle fell across the valley as the last purple and orange rays of sunset faded behind the mountains. Elizabeth felt a great sadness weighing heavily across her shoulders. Most nights, she could fend off her despair, but tonight she wore it comfortably like her favorite shawl snugged across her chest.
She sat at a table by the window and lit the candle sitting on its sill, as she had done every night since Jack left. Her journal was in front of her, her Bible was to her right and the book Jack made her to was to her left. She found the most comfort in those three books and kept them close.
Elizabeth stared at the blank page of her journal. Usually, the words danced across the pages as she relived the events of the day. She gripped her pen tighter as if to will the words to flow. The war in the Northern Territories and taken her heart, were her words this thief's latest bounty?
Her eyes were hot with unshed tears. Why God why? You are the All Mighty, you could make it so. I pray without ceasing for Jack's safe return. He could knock on my door this very moment if you willed it. I don't understand. I'm a good person, why have my prayers gone unanswered?
As soon as her plea escaped her lips, her words to Jack whispered to her soul, "Love is patient."
Immediately, she felt ashamed. The women here, her best friend even, had lost so much, and yet she ranted like a spoiled child. Forgive me, Father. My heart hurts and I feel so alone…
A bolt of lightning split the sky and with a gust of wind, the window flew open. The candle flame struggled to burn, writhing against the storm. The books blew open, their precious pages fluttered in the wind. Elizabeth quickly latched the window and with the hem of her skirt, wiped the raindrops from her most cherished possessions.
The page of her Bible was open to Matthew 28:20. "Lo I am with you always, even unto the end of the world. Amen."
She held the verse against her heart and looked to the night sky. The storm had stilled and the moon peeked through the rolling clouds. She cracked open the window and breathed in the scent of fresh earth, springtime and…hope.
Elizabeth pulled the quilt from the rocking chair and wrapped it around her shoulders as she settled back at the table. She picked up her pen and once again the words flowed out of her heart on to the page. Tonight, as she wrote, she would glance out her window, ever watchful through the moonlight and mist for a glimpse of red on the pathway leading home.