The wind stopped blowing, creating an eerie quietness that extended toward the house, despite there being three trucks parked outside. They were going to let her leave again.
Squeezing her eyes closed at the heartache, Ginny started for the side of her car when the unnatural stillness was broken by a scent that had her nose twitching at the appetizing aromas coming from an open window.
She ground her teeth in anger that they were uncaringly sitting down to eat at the same table she had shared with them so many times, while her heart was breaking in two. That anger had her striding toward the porch. She had already decided this would be her last attempt to heal the breach between them. There was nothing left to lose; her fear of losing them forever removed the obstacle holding her back.
Her temper, provoked by the slight they were giving her, had her raising a hand to pound on the door. Before her knuckles connected with the wood, the smell of what was cooking inside became discernable, invoking a faint memory from her subconsciousness. It was her first Christmas morning with them, and Leah had woken her up to open Christmas presents.
When they ran out of their bedroom, Ginny thought they would go down the stairs to see the gifts Santa had left behind. However, Leah grabbed her hand as she instead ran toward Freddy’s room and flung the door open. Afraid of getting in trouble, Ginny tore her hand free as Leah shouted out in excitement. “Wake up, Pa. Ginny and I want to open our presents!” She dove on top her sleeping father’s mattress.
Freddy groaned, then started laughing as he wrapped Leah into a hug. “Santa called and said he wouldn’t be here for a couple more hours. Go back to sleep.”
“Nuh-uh. I don’t believe you. You just want to go back to sleep.” Leah giggled when her pa started tickling her.
Envying Leah, Ginny held back at the door self-consciously.
Freddy looked up, seeing her, and patted the bed next to Leah.
At the invitation, Ginny laughingly ran toward the bed.
“Why didn’t you come in with Leah?”
“I didn’t want to get in trouble for not knocking.” Squirming from Freddy’s tickling fingers, she nearly toppled off the bed. With a quick reflex Freddy caught her, scooting over so she had more room.
“Daughter, family doesn’t haven’t to knock; all you have to do is open the door.”
As the memory replayed in her memory, she dropped her hand to the doorknob, her anger turning into despair. She missed her brothers. They might not be related by blood, but they were as much a part of her as Trudy.
Turning the knob, the door easily swung open.
Tears rose to her eyes at what she saw waiting for her on the other side of the door. All her brothers were lined up, waiting for her in the living room, except for Silas, who was sitting on the bricks of the large fireplace, his face buried in his hands.
She walked over the threshold, and he lifted his head. His haggard expression showed how difficult it had been for him to remain inside the house.
“Why, Silas?”
Standing, his face revealed how much he had missed her and the pain it had cost him. “The door was always open for you; all you had to do was come inside. There were never any locked doors between us and you. The only thing keeping you out was you doubting our love. How many doorways have you walked through without waiting for the door to be opened to you? Yet, with your own, you used it to keep yourself apart from us.”
The truth stung. Feeling guilty, she moved her eyes away from him to the long line where her other brothers stood. Their love and affection were apparent, making her heart clench. She didn’t deserve them. She never had.
The love and acceptance they gave her was built on lies and misconceptions. Freddy had died with the secret that he wasn’t her father; he’d only confided in Silas, leaving her other brothers in the dark. Silas had sworn never to disclose the secret, and as far as she knew, he had kept his word.
The fact that her relationships with her other brothers was built on a foundation of misconception laid heavily on her conscience. Not only had she allowed them to keep believing the falsehood that she was their biological sister, she was responsible for them losing the sister who rightfully belonged in her place.
“Leah is dead because of me. I should have been the one—”
“I’m the only one responsible for Pa and Leah’s death.” Silas’s rugged features turned stern at her words. “I’m the one who gave him the money for the ATV and I forgot the helmets. No one regrets that day more than me. I told you then that the accident was never your fault, and I didn’t want to hear you blaming yourself. I still don’t.”