John continued. "Wade's no good for a fine girl like you."
"Yes, John, I know," Perry whispered.
A violent coughing spell consumed him. When he finally grew calm, she lifted his head, allowing him to drink.
"Mary," he whispered in a voice raspy with illness and age. "I need to see Mary."
Hunter moved to the door to call his grandmother but found her already heading up the stairs. She must have known John needed her. She hurried into the bedroom.
"John." A smile creased her damp cheeks. "John, you're awake." Mary propped on his bed and held his large hand in both of hers. Tears rolled down her wrinkled face, blocking out all awareness of anyone else in the room. Hunter moved his grandmother's rocker close beside the bed so she could sit more comfortably.
John looked up at his beautiful wife of almost fifty years. "You know, Mary, I wouldn't have traded a day of my life with you."
"Nor I," she whispered.
"I've loved you every minute since I first saw you in that pink bonnet at church." Though John's voice was low, his words were clear.
"I know, John. You don't have to talk, you need your rest." Mary kissed both of his cheeks as she pushed the gray hair off his damp forehead.
John shook his head from side to side. "Darling, I've never lied to you and I'll not start now. I have no more time. From the first I've always prayed that if God saw fit not to take us together, He'd take you first. I never wanted to leave you alone."
Tears were running down Mary's old cheeks like tiny rivers through rocky soil. "No, John. No, don't leave me." Mary's words tore at Perry's heart. She knew she should leave this couple alone in their last few minutes together, but the power of their emotions had overwhelmed her.
John's hand patted Mary's softly. "You got to understand. I'm going first, but it's not bad." He stopped to build his strength, then continued with little more than a whisper. "I'll wait for you just beyond. I'll be there when you need me. I'll be waiting, I promise. Hold my hand tight. I'll be with you through this."
Mary held his hand with both of hers as he whispered, "Now don't you be afraid, my love. I'm only stepping through the door ahead of you. I'll be on just the other side waiting. I wouldn't want to go into heaven without my Mary at my side." As his voice faded, so did the life within him. Mary let out a gasp of pain as half of her being died within her.
"John!" Mary cried. "John?" As she cried softly, Hunter and Perry watched John's face relax in eternal sleep. After a moment Hunter dropped to his knees and buried his face in the covers of the bed.
Perry instinctively reached to stroke his blond hair. He wasn't crying or praying. It was as if John's death had pulled all the energy from the room. She moved beside Mary's slumped body and encircled the old woman's shoulders with her arms. Mary looked up into Perry's face. "My John's gone," she whispered. "He's waiting for me now.''
Tears ran unchecked down Perry's face. "I know," she whispered. "I heard him promise."
After a long minute Mary turned with tear-filled eyes to Perry and Hunter. "I'd like to be alone with John for a few minutes. Hunter, would you go tell Hank what he needs to do? Perry, I'd like you to speak with Eva, if she hasn't left yet." Mary paused as she saw their worried looks. "I'm fine, I just want to rest here a minute with John." Mary was still holding his hand. "Please ask that no one come up until I call."
Hunter stood and crossed to his grandmother's side. He bent and kissed her cheek before moving away. As he passed, Perry saw unshed tears in his eyes. Yet his fists were tight as he fought for control.
Without a word she followed him to the hall. As they stood together in the darkness Perry sobbed. "I'm sorry, Hunter."
He placed his arms around her, but he seemed far away, in his own private grief. She could feel a wall between them. He didn't want to share his pain with anyone.
"I'll go down and make the arrangements." He moved away. If she hadn't seen the pain in Hunter's eyes when John died, she'd have never known how deeply he felt his loss.
An hour later both the doctor and the minister were downstairs waiting for Mary. The minister seemed impatient and displeased at having to wait. He showed his displeasure by frowning at Perry as she poured his third cup of coffee. He mumbled to the doctor, "I feel sure Mary will want to make a large donation in John's name to the building fund."
The old doctor knotted his mouth into a wrinkled prune and refused to speak to the reverend.
Hunter made all the arrangements and put Hank to work on the coffin. He stood tall and silent by the windows, staring at the winter night. Perry wanted to comfort him, but his rigid stance held her back. It said to all that he needed no one. He made no effort to talk with the doctor or the minister but cocooned himself in silence.
Dr. Moore finally broke the vigil. "Perry, perhaps it would be better if you and I went up and checked on Mary. She's been up there a long time."
Perry was hesitant to break Mary's wishes, but the doctor added, "I'll just look in on her."
Reluctantly she followed the old doctor up the stairs. He listened at the door for a moment but heard nothing. As he opened the door they saw Mary sitting in her rocker, by John, still holding his hand.
"Mary," Dr. Moore said as he stepped into the room.
She didn't move as the doctor neared. Perry reached for a shawl to cover Mary's shoulders, for the night and death's hand had chilled the room.
"Mary?" Dr. Moore's words were laced with a lifetime of friendship. "Are you all right?" He touched her shoulder in concern.
Mary's body slumped forward, first half onto the bed, then melting toward the floor. Both Dr. Moore and Perry dropped to her side, fearing she'd fainted. The doctor lifted her head gently with old, unsteady fingers and lovingly closed Mary's eyes.
"No!" Perry shouted, not believing what she saw. "No!" She screamed, moving beside Mary, trying desperately to awaken her.
The doctor stopped her efforts. "It's no use, Perry. She's already cold; she's been dead some time."
"No," Perry sobbed.
The old doctor lay Mary's head down lovingly and put both his hands on Perry's shoulders. "Perry, don't you see? It's the way they wanted it. Mary's heart has been weak for many years. She just couldn't live without him."
Both turned as Hunter burst into the room. For a moment he looked confused, not believing what his eyes told him. He darted to his grandmother and lifted her into his arms, holding her tenderly, as a father carries a sleeping child.
"I'm sorry, Hunter," the old doctor whispered through his tears.
Hunter placed her on the bed beside his grandfather's body. He stared down at her in disbelief.
Something fell from Mary's lap as he lifted the body. Perry bent and picked up a tattered old pink bonnet and handed it to Hunter. He turned the old hat in his hands as if examining a great treasure. "He said he fell in love with her when he first saw her at church in this." He lay the bonnet beside Mary.
"Hunter," Perry whispered, "I'll go downstairs and tell the others."
He nodded sharply as she watched his self-control stretch tight. He stood at the edge of the bed, staring at the bodies of his grandparents. "They were my shelter from the world when I was a child. I thought they would live forever."
Stepping away, she was unable to watch the pain in Hunter's face any longer. She moved slowly downstairs, in no hurry to share her heartbreaking news. Her mind ran over all that must be done. She knew that Hunter and Wade were the Williamses' only living relatives, so there was only one to notify except those already in the house.
Midnight had passed to the steady pounding of Hank's hammer in the barn by the time all the plans were made. Perry instructed Eva and her daughter to begin cooking for any company who might come in tomorrow. They were thankful for something to do. Perry said good night to the doctor and returned to the main room.