Hatcher - Whispers From Yesterday

F EBRUARY 14, 1999

L OS A NGELES , C ALIFORNIA

Karen opened her eyes to the sterile brightness of a hospital room. MacKenzie Gleason, her fathers attorney and longtime Butler family friendabout the only one that was leftstood at the bedside, staring down at her with a look of exhaustion and concern.

You found me, she whispered. I lived. If shed had the strength, she would have cursed him.

Karen

She closed her eyes. Why didnt you let me die, Mac?

Suicide isnt the answer.

It was Daddys answer.

His hand alighted on her shoulder. But Randolph was wrong. He was very, very wrong.

Tears welled behind her eyelids, but she refused to let them fall. She had cried for days after her fathers death, but no more. She wasnt going to cry anymore. Not for him. Not for herself. Not for anyone. Not ever again.

Everything is gone, she said after a moment. She looked at him again. And so has everyone. Why have you bothered to stick around?

I guess Im as stubborn as you are, Miss Butler. And Im your lawyer. Im hoping to collect my usual, inflated fee.

Despite herself, she smiled at his stupid jokebut it was a smile without humor.

Things will look better tomorrow, Karen. Youll see.

Mac was mistaken. About life. About death. About tomorrow.

He should have let her die.

Saturday, February 14, 1931

Dear Diary,

My name is Esther Ruth Thompson, and today is my twelfth birthday. Because I am always writing stories on whatever paper I can find, Mama and Papa gave me this journal to keep my thoughts in. So today, I begin writing the story of my life.

Mine is not a very exciting life, living on this farm in Oregon. I go to school in a one-room schoolhouse on the edge of town, several miles from here. I have one sister, Sophia. She turned thirteen yesterday. She is my dearest and best friend, and I love her more than anyone in the world, except for Mama and Papa.

I dont know what I want to be or what I want to do. Maybe I will become a great writer. But I doubt that. Miss Godwin, my teacher, says I have an average mind and that it will take great discipline for me to amount to anything.

I think that was a horrid thing for a teacher to say to her student. Dont you?

Esther

Thursday, August 6, 1931

Dear Diary,

I could hardly wait for family prayers to be over this evening so I could hurry upstairs to my desk. I wanted to write down what happened today.

First, Goldie had puppies. A litter of six. They are the cutest little things Ive ever seen. Well, maybe they do look more like rats than dogs, as Papa says, but before you know it, their eyes will open and their coats will get long and silky like Goldies. Mama says I must find homes for all of them, that we have more than enough pets around the farm. I almost cried at the thought. I wish I could keep them all. But then I saw her holding and petting one of them, and I think maybe well be able to keep at least one.

I was so excited and wanted to share the news with Sophia. So I went looking for her. She was supposed to be returning Mrs. Spragues butter churn. Which I guess she did. Only I found her behind the barn with Earl Sprague. And he was kissing her!

They both blushed the brightest reds when they saw me. Sophia was furious, and she grabbed my arm so hard I thought I would have bruises to show for her anger. She made me swear I would never tell a soul. And I promised. But I never said I would not write it in my journal.

I wonder if any boy will ever want to kiss me. I cannot imagine even wanting one to. It seems a lot of nonsense to me.

Esther

J UNE 10, 1999
O WYHEE C OUNTY , S OUTHWESTERN I DAHO

A hot, dry wind swept across the high Idaho desert, driving eddies of dust ahead of it. The sun glared down upon the side of the house, bleaching what remained of the yellow paint that had once made it a bright spot in a bleak setting.

Not that this land of sagebrush and rattlesnakes, jack rabbits and coyotes, wild horses and range cattle didnt have its own unique beauty. It had plenty. And Sophia Taylor couldnt imagine living anywhere else. Not in the dead of winter with snowdrifts piling against the front door nor in the blistering heat of summer when water holes went dry and each day seemed a full week long.

Seated in her rocking chair on the front porch, Sophia closed her eyes, her thoughts drifting backward in time. Through the years. Over the decades. Back to the first time Bradley had brought her to the Golden T Ranch.

Ranch? Hardly. Thered been nothing but land and wildlife. No house. No barn. No fences. No cattle or horses. But her husband had been full of dreams for the future. Their future. Theyd worked hard, the two of them, to make those dreams come true.

And we did it, Bradley, she whispered. We made them come true. And now its even more than we dreamed.

Hed been gone nearly thirty-two years, her Bradley, but there were times Sophia expected to turn and see him sitting beside her on this porch that hed built with his own two hands. Times she thought she could feel his arm around her shoulders as she watched the setting sun, splashes of orange, purple, and pink spilling across wispy clouds on the horizon. When she closed her eyes, she could see him and their daughter, Maggie, and Lucky Sam, the hired hand. She could see the cattle and the cowpokes, the dogs and the horses. They were all there in her memories, almost real enough to touch.

Funny how the older she got, the closer she felt to the past than the present. Maybe her time to leave this earth was near at last.

Im ready whenever You say, Lord. Its been a good life, and Youve blessed me in abundance.

Yet, even as her silent prayer drifted through her mind, she knew with a certainty it wasnt yet time. There was something still to be done. Something unfinished. She didnt know what, but God would reveal it to her in His time.

Miss Sophie!

She opened her eyes and watched as twelve-year-old Billy Slader galloped an ugly Roman-nosed horse into the yard. It was nothing short of a miracle the boy didnt fall and break his neck, the way his arms and legs flopped around.

Miss Sophie!

She rose from the rocker. What is it, Billy?

You shoulda seen me. I roped a calf. I did it. I really did it.

Thats wonderful. She looked up the canyon, knowing Dusty and the other boys couldnt be far behind.

But before the riders came into view, Sophias attention was drawn toward the highway by the sound of a car coming up the long narrow drive. She didnt recognize the automobile as belonging to anyone she knew, and this county wasnt exactly a hot tourist attraction.

Who is it? Billy asked.

I dont know.

The car stopped. The engine was silenced. Sophia squinted against the glare of sunlight, trying to see who was behind the wheel. At last, the door opened. When the driver stepped into view, Sophia gasped.

Maggie, she whispered, her hand over her heart.

But even as she said the name, she knew it couldnt be her daughter. Margaret Taylor Butler had died four years beforeand had left clear instructions that her mother wasnt welcome at the funeral.