Ryder arrived back in the bedchamber just in time to see — or, rather, to hear — Meredith’s father draw his last breath.
After a second’s disbelief, the silence of the room was shattered by a loud wail from Melissa, who crumpled into her brother’s arms, sobbing broken-heartedly. By the bedside, her mother rocked back and forth in her seat, sobbing quietly to herself, while Ellen, who had become as fond of the rest of the family as she was of Meredith herself, placed a hand on her shoulder, in an attempt to comfort her.
Only Meredith remained composed, standing up and, still clutching her father’s hand, bending to drop a kiss on his paper-thin cheek.
“Goodbye, Pa,” she said simply, kissing him again. “And thank ye for everything ye ever did for me. I’ll never forget it.”
As Ryder hovered uncertainly in the doorway, reluctant to interrupt such a private scene and yet longing to run forward and comfort her, Meredith’s eyes swept the room, the relief in them apparent when they finally latched on to him, standing by the door.
“Ryder!” she said in a sob, her voice breaking with emotion. “Oh, Ryder, yer here! Thank goodness yer here!”
She did not allow herself to cry until she was in his arms, her head pressed into his shoulders as the tears finally flowed. And as he held her tightly, murmuring words of comfort into her dark hair, Ryder was surprised to find himself weeping along with her. For her father, for her — and, of course, for himself. The old man in the bed had been the closest thing to a father figure he’d ever had, and although he’d only known him for a few short weeks, the lessons he’d learned from him were carved into his heart.
From Edward, he had learned that it was not simply physical strength which made a man, but what lay within. By the time Ryder had met him, Edward's own strength had already been failing, but his heart, and his love for his family, had still been strong. It was the kind of strength, Ryder realized, that would never die and could never be beaten out of a man. Indeed, it was a strength he had passed on to his children — and to Ryder himself.
“I wish I had kent him for longer,” he said, so softly that only Meredith could hear. “I wish ye could have had him for longer. If there was anything in the world I could do to bring him back for ye —- nay, for all of us —- ye ken I would do it. I wouldn’t hesitate.”
“I ken. And I love ye for it.” Meredith’s eyes, as she looked up at him, were filled with tears, which spilled down her pale cheeks as if they would never stop. And as he wrapped his arms tightly around her once more, Ryder realized that the other lesson he had learned from Edward was that, when you truly loved someone, their pain was yours and could hurt as much — or even more —- than your own.
Now that he was gone, it was up to Ryder to look after his daughter and the rest of the family — his family. And, at last, he finally felt equal to the task.