Page 32 of A South Hill Christmas Keepsake
Ruthie hesitated, then gestured toward the sofa. “Well, sit then. If we’re talking about ghosts, might as well be comfortable.”
“I understand you were a teacher,” Hannah Leigh said.
“Yes. I taught my whole life.”
She got the ball rolling. “Did you ever marry? Have children?”
“My life was abundant with love for every child I ever had the privilege to teach. I loved them all. Even the bratty ones, bless their hearts. Wasn’t their fault.” She touched her fingers to her lips. “I tracked their successes, mourned their failures, helped when I could. I never married or had children of my own.”
“Because of Henry?”
She blinked. “It sounds ridiculous. You won’t understand. Nobody does.” She looked away. “You know when you’ve experienced the love of your life. I could never leave that behind. I still cling to that special time we spent together.” Her eyes wandered to the side table.
Hannah Leigh caught Nate’s attention, pointing to where Ruthie’s attention had turned.
He noticed the ornate frame there. “Miss Danvers, is that a picture of you and Henry,” he asked.
“It is.”
Nate had stepped into plenty of homes over the years. Some gave off the vibe they’d soaked up decades of love, loss, andlaughter and kept them all. In this little apartment, this whole woman’s life fit neatly inside.
“Do you remember that night?” Hannah Leigh asked as they sat.
Ruthie nodded. “Every bit of it. Sometimes I forget what day it is, but I’ll never forget him.”
“Henry Bell must’ve been very special.”
She nodded. “Sweet man, always carried a notebook and a camera. Very smart, too. He was doing an important story for the paper about changes to the railroad that were affecting the east coast. He was in town over a month. We knew he’d have to leave eventually, but he got the news just before Christmas that his next assignment required that he leave right after Christmas. Neither of us wanted it to end.”
“I guess it was harder right at the holidays.”
“I think the hard part was that our feelings had grown so quickly. He was even spending time with my family. He’d show up at school with flowers. The children loved that. They’d tease he was my boyfriend.” A grin brightened her face. “He was so much more than that.”
“But he had to leave.”
“I begged him to stay, but he couldn’t. When my parents saw how upset I was, they forbade me to continue talking to him. My heart wouldn’t allow it though. That’s when we started leaving letters in the dogwood for each other. Every single day there were letters.”
“Do you have the letters?”
She nodded. “Tied with a ribbon from the last gift he’d given me. I treasure everyone. He wrote beautiful letters.” Pausing, she took in a tired breath. “He promised we’d be together. He asked me to meet him under the dogwood. Said he had something important we needed to discuss. But he never came.”
“The snowstorm,” Nate said.
Her voice wavered. “Yes. If you’ve never experienced thunder snow, it’s a real thing. The thunder introduced snow so thick you couldn’t see across the street, but I went to meet him. I waited as long as I could, but it was so cold, and so wet it was heavy. Even my eyelashes had ice in them. I tried to stay. I even sangO Holy Nightto keep myself brave. Told myself if I could hum it three times through and he still hadn’t shown, I’d go home.”
Her eyes teared. “I made it all the way through. Three times. No Henry.”
Nate’s brows knit together. “Did you ever find out why he didn’t show?”
“No, but I suppose he made something of himself in the city and just forgot about me and South Hill.” She shrugged. “I suppose it was for the best. City life wasn’t for me.
Silence settled between them, heavy and tender.
“You can trick a mind into forgetting, but not a heart. I let that part of mine stay buried under that tree.” Ruthie looked down at her folded hands.
Hannah Leigh looked like she was swallowing back tears. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Ruthie smiled gently. “I knew my one true love. I just wasn’t his. Some people live a whole life and don’t feel that.”
