Sorrow is better than laughter, for sadness has a refining influence on us.” –Ecclesiastes 7:3 (NLT)
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We were sitting in the office drinking the coffee Doc had made. The door was open to the back cell room and when Lucius hollered out we could hear him plainly, “Doc, thanks for the coffee. Yuh need to be teachin’ that kid how to make decent coffee.”
I stood up moving to the doorway. “That’s part of the price you pay for bein’ locked up. Bad jailhouse coffee. Fortunately for you, Doc is kind.”
Lucas had a large grin on his face when I looked over at him, and gave me a nod. The kid had grown up. Yeah, he was still young, but he was gettin’ to fill out, and he was gaining experience.
My thoughts were jostled when the preacher came bursting back into the office. “Doc, it’s the Widow O’Dell! I think she’s frozen to death.”
Doc took one long last swallow. “Let me get my coat, and I’ll be with you.”
“How’s Greta?” I asked stepping toward the preacher.
Wide-eyed, he turned my direction, “Oh, she’s fine. Plenty of firewood,” he said, then nodded toward Lucas. “Seems that Lucas found the time to fill her kitchen full and there’s still plenty outside.” He stopped, then added, “She thinks she might have lost some hens though.”
I had already grabbed my coat to go with them. As I left the office I saw that Lucas was throwing his coat on, and was coming to the front with a shovel. Yep, the kid was going to be a good one.
There was no need to hurry and in fact, with the deep snow we couldn’t go very fast. If Mrs. O’Dell was dead there wouldn’t be much that could be done. We didn’t bother knocking when we came to her house but walked right in to a room that felt like a meat-locker. There Merry O’Dell sat, in front of a stove that was stone cold. Looking around I saw wood in the corner, and that puzzled me.
Doc knelt by her to do his examination, whilst the preacher and I just looked on. “I see wood, what do you think happened?”
“She had been very depressed for several days,” answered the Parson. “I wonder…”
Doc stood up, turned to face us. “I think she just up and died. From what I can tell, she didn’t bother to feed the stove and fell asleep,” he stated bluntly. “I’ll stop by Parker’s to let him know. Since she’s frozen there’s no need to get her moved immediately.”
“Doc, do you know if she had any family, left a will?” My mind was working. It had been my experience to have to contact next of kin on numerous occasions.
“I don’t know much about her family. Dick was a prosperous man and left her well off when he died a year or so ago, but I only came around once or twice to see her,” responded Doc, scratching at his cheek. “Shame,” he muttered, then headed toward the door. “I’ll stop at Parker’s then go on home. Edith will wonder what’s happened to me.”
“Miles she has a will,” the Parson assured me. “I’ve been ministering to her recently. I’m not saying that this was a deliberate act, planned out, but I do think she did nothing to stop it.”
“Convenient, huh,” I muttered.
“You might say that. She has been lonely since her husband died,” he stopped, to look at the woman seeming to rest peacefully in her chair. Shaking his head, he spoke, “I don’t begin to understand.” The preacher paused, still shaking his head. “I do know we have to trust in the Lord. He is the righteous Judge. Whatever He does and decides is right.”
“Amen to that, Parson,” I agreed. “Where’s the will?”
The preacher pointed to a room. “It’s in a little desk in her bedroom.”
“Why don’t you go get it, and then it might be a good idea if we shouldn’t check on some of the other elderly, especially those livin’ alone.”
He nodded, then moved to the widow’s room. In a few minutes he had returned holding a sealed envelope in his hands. Returning to me, he stopped to look at the lady. Reaching down he tried to adjust her hands, but she was too stiff. With a sigh, he stood and began walking to the door.
Following him outside, I wondered how…