Tracie Peterson & Judith Miller - [Lights of Lowell 01] (44 page)

‘‘He’s a good man.’’

Kiara smiled. ‘‘Aye, he is. And ya’re a good woman, and God is callin’ ya to forgive yar husband. He can na hurt ya anymore, unless ’tis in this manner. If ya go on like this, then Bradley Houston’s wounds will go on as well. Make yar peace, Miss Jasmine.

Forgive him for what he’s done. If ya don’t, ya’ll end up holding yar son a grudge because he’s the only part of Bradley Houston that’s left alive to blame.’’

Spencer began to fuss and Jasmine looked across the room to her son. Blaming her son for Bradley’s mistakes . . . the insight of Kiara’s words made her heart ache.

‘‘Why don’t I take him to the nursery and change him for ya?’’

Kiara suggested. ‘‘Then ya can nurse him.’’

‘‘Thank you.’’ She watched Kiara lovingly lift the baby in her arms. She spoke calmly as she crossed the room with the boy. Jasmine looked to the ornately molded ceiling and sighed.

‘‘Oh, Father, I see the truth. I see what you’ve been trying to show me since Bradley died—maybe even before that. It’s hard to forgive him, but I want to, Lord. I’m asking you to help me forgive him. I don’t know what caused his heart to be so black, for surely he must have been tender and good at some time in his life.’’

She thought of Spencer and how Bradley might have been very much like him as an infant. No doubt his parents had been quite proud and joyous over his birth.

‘‘Help me, Father. I want to forgive and forget the past. I want to forgive Bradley for all that he did against me, for I never want any of it to come between Spencer and me.’’

‘‘Here he is,’’ Kiara called as she returned with the baby. ‘‘He’s mighty hungry and ready for his Christmas breakfast.’’

Jasmine laughed and took her son in her arms. ‘‘Come, my little one.’’ She nuzzled him to her and smiled down into his open eyes. ‘‘My precious little one.’’

The Christmas revelry did much to lift her spirits. Jasmine was quite pleased to receive a lovely ruby brooch from her grandmother, an heirloom that had once belonged to her great-grandmother on her father’s side. She was also deeply touched by a gift of lace from Kiara and a red ribbon for her hair from Paddy.

‘‘Why, Paddy, it’s absolutely perfect and it goes very well with my new brooch.’’ The boy beamed.

‘‘I picked it out meself,’’ he said proudly.

‘‘Aye, I can be vouchin’ for that,’’ Rogan said. ‘‘He took nearly an hour doin’ so.’’

Jasmine laughed. She was so glad that Kiara and Paddy, along with Rogan, had agreed to spend part of their Christmas with them.

‘‘And here’s my gift,’’ Nolan said, reaching behind the couch to pull out a large parcel wrapped in cloth. ‘‘I hope you like it.’’

Jasmine tilted her head to one side, trying to ascertain what Nolan had brought her. As she reached to take the package, Nolan waved her off. ‘‘I’d best hold it while you untie the string. It’s quite heavy.’’

Jasmine worked to unfasten the bindings. When she’d managed this, she pushed back the cloth and gasped. ‘‘Oh!’’

‘‘It’s my family,’’ Nolan explained. ‘‘A family portrait when I was five.’’

She looked into the faces of the Houston family. Bradley’s parents sat regally, while a very young Nolan and a smiling Bradley, fifteen years Nolan’s senior, stood on either side.

‘‘I know it might seem a strange painting, but I wanted you to believe and know that Bradley was not always a bad person. When I was young he was a loving and nurturing older brother. All who knew him were impressed with his manners and gentle nature. At times he seemed more like a father than a brother.’’

Jasmine looked to Kiara and then her grandmother. ‘‘What happened to change him?’’ For the first time she honestly cared to know the truth.

‘‘He would never admit it, but I believe the mantle of responsibility made him old before his time. He was very close to our father, and he longed only to impress him. Little by little it consumed his life—he soon gave up everything that was important to him, even a young woman whom he cared for very much. They had been friends from a young age. They were to be married, but the business distanced Bradley from her and by the time he realized what he had lost, she had married another.’’

‘‘How very sad,’’ Jasmine said, feeling genuine sorrow for her husband.

‘‘I wanted you to have this portrait of our family because it was made at a time when we were all very close and very happy.’’

‘‘Thank you, Nolan. This will be a special gift for Spencer. I will prominently display it that he might take pride in his heritage.’’ She met Kiara’s gaze across the room. The girl smiled broadly.

The forgiving had begun.

That night in her bedroom, Jasmine sat nursing her son. Spencer grew more sleepy by the minute, his eyelids lifting heavily, then closing again. She almost hated for him to fall asleep. With Spencer awake and nursing, Jasmine didn’t feel quite so alone.

‘‘Oh, Spencer. You’ll never know your father firsthand, and in some ways I think that a better way. Yet you are the best of him.

You are the love that he should have known.’’ The baby finally stopped nursing, closing his eyes in sleep.

Jasmine put him to her shoulder and patted him gently on the back. ‘‘He loved you—there’s no doubt of that. I think he honestly loved you more than anyone. You actually made him smile.’’

She thought of her dead husband and the past and knew there was nothing there for her. Nothing but sad memories of a hopeless relationship that could never be put straight. Kiara was right: forgiveness was the better path.

Still, her son was without a father now. She thought of Nolan’s kindness and generous spirit and had to admit that those qualities had always attracted her. She had no desire to be untrue to her vows; she was simply sad that she had never seen those qualities in her husband.

But there was hope. With God, there was always hope.

Putting Spencer in his cradle, Jasmine knelt down and smiled.

‘‘We are in His hands, Spencer, and there’s no other place I’d rather be. We’re going to be fine—you’ll see. For God has already seen our tomorrows and has smoothed the path before us. He has woven our lives as a tapestry of hope. Hope in His love. Hope for all of our tomorrows.’’