All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Cover by Terry Dugan Design, Minneapolis, Minnesota
Cover photo © Terry Dugan Design
Covered bridge interior drawing by Abby Wick
LEAVE A CANDLE BURNING
Copyright © 2006 by Lori Wick
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wick, Lori.
Leave a candle burning / Lori Wick.
p. cm. — (Tucker Mills trilogy ; bk. 3)
ISBN-13: 978-0-7369-1373-7 (pbk.)
ISBN-10: 0-7369-1373-4 (pbk.)
Product # 6913734
1. Physicians—Fiction. 2. Widowers—Fiction. 3. Massachusetts—Fiction.
I. Title. II. Series.
PS3573.I237L43 2006
813'.54—dc22
2006007246
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Printed in the United States of America
06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 / BP-MS / 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
For Andrea—
who colors my world with joy.
I’m so glad Tim found you.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Characters
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Epilogue
Glossary
About the Author
The English Garden Series
Current Books by Lori Wick
Acknowledgments
It’s so fun to finish a series. It brings such a sense of accomplishment, but more than that, it’s good to look back and see the changes that have occurred in that time. I want to use this page to give special thanks to special people who were a help, some of whom probably didn’t even know it.
Thank you…
Abby Wick—whose covered bridge will always make me smile. It was one of the highlights of this series, but then that should be no surprise. Having you for a daughter is a highlight beyond description.
Corina Joy Kenney—for how very sweet you are and for allowing me to use your name. And also for having a tough time with those hard c’s.
Todd Barsness—I needed that reminder about the battle we’re in. I had been putting my feet up much too often and forgetting to fight. Thank you for leading the charge. It’s so obvious in your life.
Phil Caminiti—your example has brought salvation so many times. Your words of wisdom and fellowship are very dear. I do not take them for granted. And thanks too to your Denise, whose precious friendship and listening ear have been lifelines for me again and again.
Darwin Parman—your teaching from 1 Timothy was fabulous. I can’t tell you how much I learned. Your hard work was so evident. You made the book come alive.
Bob Wick—you always surprise me. After 25 years, I’m supposed to be able to read your mind, and ofttimes I do, but the surprises just keep coming. Your willingness to keep growing and keep learning is why we have had 25 years. I don’t leave a candle burning for you because you know I would burn down the house, but I hope you can always tell it’s burning in my heart.
Characters
Maddie Randall — recently had a baby
Jace Randall — her husband
Valerie — their daughter
Clara — works for Jace and Maddie
Doyle Shephard — Maddie’s uncle, owns the general store
Cathy Shephard — Maddie’s aunt
Conner Kingsley — owns and operates the bank
Reese Kingsley — Conner’s wife, expecting a baby in the fall
Troy Thaden — Conner’s business partner
Eli Peterson — bedridden man, owns rental properties in Tucker Mills
Scottie Peterson — his wife
Iris Stafford — the Peterson’s cook
Finn — Eli’s man
Pastor Douglas Muldoon — pastor at one of the meetinghouses in town
Alison Muldoon — Douglas’ wife
Hillary, Joshua, Peter, Martin, and Jeffrey — Douglas and Alison’s children
Dannan MacKay — nephew to old Doc MacKay and new town doctor
Grant MacKay — Dannan’s cousin
Annie MacKay — Grant’s wife
Corina MacKay — Grant and Annie’s daughter
Some of the townsfolk:
Mrs. Greenlowe — Reese Kingsley’s former landlady
Mr. Leffler — the bank teller
The Webers — part of the church family
The Peternells—part of the church family
The Reverend Mr. Sullins — pastor at Commons Meetinghouse
Prologue
“I have your mother’s things in order,” the young woman reported to the bedridden man.
“Was it hard?” he asked kindly, his eyes not missing a detail about her. “Did it make you miss her more?”
“At times. And then at other times, I felt as though she were still here.”
“What are your plans now?” he asked next.
“I’m not sure. I’ve found a house where I can board, but I don’t know about income.”
“May I make a suggestion?”
“Certainly.”
“Would you consider marrying me?”
The woman’s face betrayed all the astonishment she felt inside.
“How long have you worked here?” the man asked, changing topics.
“Since I was 12,” she answered, her voice reflecting her confusion even as she wondered what the last six years had to do with his proposal.
“You know you’ve always done more than just assist my mother,” the man began, stating his case. “She so depended on you in the latter years that she would say she couldn’t have managed without you. Well, it’s no different for me. Who will be here to take care of the small details and see to the shopping and the meals? Mother wasn’t the only one to depend on you for those things.”
The woman’s heart crowded with sudden compassion.
“This is not what you really want,” she told him gently. “You’re upset about your mother.”
To her surprise, the man smiled into her eyes.
“I am upset about losing my mother; I’ll miss her more than I can say, but I can’t lose you too. If you stay as my wife, then life can go on as it has, and I’ll have the peace of mind knowing that when I’m gone, you’ll be taken care of.”
The woman looked confused by this as well.
“As my wife,” the man explained, “this house and the properties will all be yours.”
The woman began to object, but the man stopped her.
“Please just think about it. A marriage of convenience is in both our best interests. Take as much time as you need to decide and let me know.”
Feeling a great deal of shock, the woman exited the room. She walked slowly down the open staircase, her eyes taking in the house that had been her home for a long time, a home she could only have dreamt about at
one time in her life.
At the bottom, she looked back up, even though there was nothing new to see. She suddenly realized his suggestion held great merit. She didn’t want to leave, and she did care for him, just as she had his mother.
“I’ll marry you,” the woman said when she arrived back by his side just minutes later. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m very sure,” he told her, smiling again. “We’ll do it soon.”
Like the old friends they were, the two talked about the details for a few minutes more before the woman exited, leaving the man alone.
During the day he was propped up against the headboard of his bed, slightly bent to the side because of his spine, but comfortable nonetheless. At the moment, he was more than comfortable. He was delighted.
It would be a marriage of convenience, but there was another truth involved, one that he would never let her know. For the time he had left, he would know that she would be by his side, but that wasn’t what caused him to sigh with a deep contentment. That came from another fact: He was going to marry the woman he’d loved for years.
One
Tucker Mills, Massachusetts, 1840
Reese Kingsley stood in her bedroom and studied her shape in the tall mirror. Since she didn’t carry extra weight, her protruding abdomen had been obvious in her second month. Now in her fourth month, she was beginning to look as though she might be carrying twins.
She wasn’t. She was sure of that. But the fact that her spouse was the size of a small mountain could explain the additional inches around her middle. As though thinking of him might make him appear, Conner Kingsley came to the door, looking for her.
“Back in front of the mirror?” he teased quietly, which was his way.
“What do you mean back?” Reese turned her back on her reflection, working to look innocent.
“I saw you in this same spot a few mornings ago,” Conner answered, slipping his arms around her.
“I’m sure you mistook me for someone else,” she said.
“I can see how that might happen,” Conner went along as soon as he’d kissed her nose. “There are so many expectant women moving around this house.”
Reese smiled into his eyes, her own voice whispering that she loved him just before she slipped her arms around his neck. For a time the two were in a world of their own, up to the moment when Conner’s stomach rumbled.
“Oh, my,” Reese laughed. “I think I’d better get to the kitchen.”
“Troy started the coffee,” Conner volunteered, referring to his business partner, who also lived with them.
“If I wait long enough, will he start breakfast too?”
With a soft laugh and an arm around his wife, Conner moved them to the door. It was time to head downstairs to start the day.
Maddie Randall held her small daughter lengthwise in her lap, bending slightly to speak into her small face. Three-month-old Valerie Randall smiled into her mother’s eyes, not even remembering she was hungry.
“You slept almost all night,” Maddie congratulated her. “Didn’t that feel nice? So much better than waking up before morning.”
Valerie smiled as though she’d helped out on purpose, and Maddie laughed in delight, scooping her close to kiss her tiny cheek. This was the way Jace Randall, proud husband and father, found them.
“Well, good morning,” he greeted, having just come downstairs. “You two are up early.”
“Yes, but not in the night, so we feel very rested.”
Jace bent and kissed Maddie, and then spoke to his daughter.
“Val, tell your mother that you sleep through every night,” he teased. “I never hear you, so you must not be waking up.”
Valerie gave another smile that assured her parents she was brilliantly taking in every word, and Jace, unable to keep his distance, took her in his arms.
“Very soon now she’ll figure out she’s hungry,” Maddie said, moving toward the stairs. “But I’m going to get dressed anyway.”
“We’ll be just fine,” Jace assured her, eyes still on the small bundle in his arms.
Valerie was beginning to be quite distressed by the time Maddie came back down, but Jace only spoke softly into his daughter’s crumpled face before handing her off when his wife made her appearance.
Pastor Douglas Muldoon was sitting at the desk in his study, head bent over his Bible, when he heard the door. He looked up to see what looked like his wife’s hand, but she didn’t enter. Instead it opened just enough to admit 15-month-old Jeffrey, who giggled and ran when he spotted his father and found himself scooped up into Douglas’ arms.
“How’s my Jeff?” Douglas asked, pressing a kiss to his soft, round cheek.
The little boy hunched his shoulders with delight, smiling into his father’s face. Douglas turned with the little boy to speak to Alison, his wife.
“He was missing you,” she informed him.
“How could you tell?”
“He goes to your chair at the dining table and tries to talk to you.”
Douglas laughed, and Jeffrey put his head on his father’s shoulder. Douglas knew he wouldn’t get any work done this way, but at the moment it didn’t matter.
“How’s your day going?” he asked of Alison.
“I keep getting distracted.”
“By Jeff?”
“Yes, and the garden. I think I put too much on my list.”
“Where’s Hillary?” he asked about their daughter.
“She’s at Opal Berglund’s, helping clean up after their kitchen fire.”
“It was kind of her to go.”
“Yes, it was, but I admit that I had big plans for the day.”
Douglas caught it then. His wife’s oh-so-subtle attempt to get him to watch Jeffrey for a time. Douglas tried not to smile, but it wasn’t going very well. Alison saw the smile that crept into his eyes and had to fight her own grin.
“I have a sermon to prepare,” he tried.
“It’s only Wednesday, and you’ve been working so hard on this subject you know it backward and forward.”
“Nothing much gets by you, does it?”
“Not when I’m trying to get into the garden,” she answered with a coaxing smile.
Douglas shook his head in mock exasperation and agreed. When Alison kissed him and left, he settled himself on the floor to play with his youngest son. It was no end of fun, but it also made him long for a swift return of his three middle children, who were visiting their grandmother in Boston.
“Good morning, Dannan MacKay,” Troy Thaden, who with Conner was one of Tucker Mills’ bank managers, welcomed the new doctor. “Come, have a seat by the desk.”
The men had spoken to each other many times at the meetinghouse and over meals but never talked about Dannan’s personal business interests. Today would be different.
“How are you, Troy?” Dannan asked.
“Doing well. Yourself?”
“Fine. Still adjusting to a new town and letting folks adjust to a new doctor, but coming along.”
“How many months have you been here?”
“Let’s see.” Dannan’s head went back. “I’ve been here about four months, maybe a little more.”
“Is there anyone to visit back in Willows Crossing?”
“Just a cousin and his family. I might go see them this winter if they don’t visit here first.”
“How is it coming with your patients?”
“Most of the time, it’s fine,” Dannan informed him, even as he began to smile. “I had a woman yesterday who came to the office. I could tell she wanted something, but it took a while for her to tell me what it was. I guessed for the better part of ten minutes about what might be bothering her, and she finally blurted it out.”
“Well, that’s progress,” Troy said, smiling in return.
“Yes, but she also told me exactly how she felt about old Doc MacKay leaving, and that he had no business doing such a thing.”
“He heard plenty of that before he
left too.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Now,” Dannan began, “I won’t take up more of your time on this. I’m wondering if the bank owns any small houses that it’s trying to sell right now.”
“Looking to move?”
“It’s just a thought I had, and I don’t believe my landlord wants to sell.”
“Have you asked Eli?” Troy asked. He knew Eli Peterson, Dannan’s landlord, owned several properties in town. “He just might want to discuss it.”
“As a matter of fact, I haven’t met him. My uncle paid my rent for months down the road, so we never got around to my meeting him.”
“Well, it was just a thought. I have two houses, one that’s available now, and one that will be going on the market very soon. I can tell you about them right now or show them to you some other time.”
Dannan was on the verge of saying that he’d like to hear about them, but a man had rushed into the bank, and Dannan knew he was needed.
“Is the Doc here?” the man asked of the teller, even as Dannan and Troy both stood and were noticed in the office alcove.
“There you are,” the stranger said to Dannan. “Can you come? It looks like Cathy Shephard has broken her arm.”
“I’m on my way,” Dannan replied with a calm that was genuine. “Thank you, Troy,” he turned long enough to add. “I’ll check back with you.”
“Certainly, Dannan. Maybe I’ll see you at noon.”
Dannan agreed and slipped out the door. Troy and the bank teller, Mr. Leffler, walked to the front windows. They didn’t speak, but their eyes were directed down the green toward the Shephard home and store, their hearts wondering how the accident had happened.
“Hold still, Cathy,” Doyle Shephard cautioned his wife, having made her as comfortable as possible on the floor of the store office.
“It throbs,” she gasped a little, holding her right arm close to her body, still unable to believe she had fallen down the stairs at the store.