Page 29 of Whirlwind

I pulled out of the Tingle and drove out of Meager to the family ranch, about fifteen minutes northwest of town, gunning down the old road that led through the property to the main house.

Mom’s car was here. Dad’s SUV. Gigi’s. Pastor Robinson was getting out of his car, adjusting his jacket. In my rear view mirror, my cousins’ cars were right behind me.

Uncle Maddox stood at the end of the drive and turned upon hearing the rumble of my Cougar entering the large driveway. He raised his hand, a grin splitting his face, and I waved in return. I parked and adjusted my big black sunglasses on my face.

Here we go.

I got out of the car, smoothing down my miniskirt. Yep, still wearing last night’s fab outfit.

“Hey, hey, Violet.” On a soft chuckle, Uncle Mad, my dad’s baby brother, wrapped an arm around my shoulders, giving me a squeeze and a kiss on the temple.

“Good morning.” I hugged him.

“We’re all here. Let’s go,” announced Uncle Mad.

Dad and Mom were up front with Pastor Robinson. They turned their heads and I waved at them. Mom smiled, Dad lifted his chin, his face stony.

We all strode up the small path to the grassy knoll which wasn’t fun in these boots, but I managed.

So willful am I.

At the freshly painted black gate of the family cemetery, Grandpa waited for us all on his horse. He’d probably already been out in the pastures.

“Did you take the morning off today, Uncle Mad?”

“No, I pulled another muscle in my back, so I took this service as an excuse not to get on a horse first thing this morning. Don’t tell your grandpa. I may be his ranch manager, but I’m still his kid and there’s never any excuse to not be on your horse.” He leaned into me. “You doing okay? I mean, today’s got to be rough…”

I slid my arm through his. “I’m fine.”

“Uh huh.” He glanced down at me, taking me in from head to toe.

I laughed.

Grandpa got down from his horse and tied his reins to the gate. He went in alongside Dad and Mom. Last time all the Hildebrands gathered here was for Grandma Holly’s burial three years ago. That had been difficult, rough.

This, now? A whole other level of difficult, rough.

We came to a stop in front of Five’s massive tombstone. Bigger than all the others, engraved ornately. Did that make us all feel better? Pastor Robinson positioned himself before it, facing us with that placid smile I found so very irritating. Did he take pointers from those preachers on TV?

“Today we celebrate the memory of young Marshal who was taken away from his family much too soon. We pray his soul rests at the right hand of the Lord with all his family in Heaven.”

If that’s true, God bless you, Grandma Holly.

Clearing his throat, he opened his prayer book and recited a Psalm. I shut my eyes in the glare of the sun, the heat prickling over my flesh.

Every year on this day Jessa, Mom, Dad and I would come here together, flowers in hand. But as this year marked ten years since the fire, since we lost Five, Dad had decided to make it an event, not just a moment.

The Psalm reading over, my mother propped a bundle of vivid purple irises and red roses against her son’s tombstone. She stepped back and reached out her hand to me. I moved forward and took it. She needed me to take her hand, she needed me to stand there in front of his tombstone next to her and Dad. I didn’t look at that engraved glossy piece of rock. I didn’t want to.

“Blessedarethey that mourn:fortheyshallbe comforted.” Pastor Robinson clasped his prayer book in his hands. “We have gathered here today to seek and to receive comfort.Our hearts have ached all these years over young Marshall’s untimely passing.”

Ached indeed.

“It is our human nature to want to understand everything that happens in this life, but that isn’t possible. We need to rely on God when things seem unclear.”

I grit my teeth.Nothing about that night is unclear, Pastor Robinson. Nothing.

“Let us trust that the Lord ministers to our hearts and gives us strength as we…”

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