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“Matthew Logan could probably help us work out something that would make everyone happy, Grandmother.”

  “Yes, tell your friend Matthew I want to see him. The three of us shall sit down and work it all out. Oh, Meggie, I feel so much better having this out in the open. I think it was killing me holding it all inside like that.”

  Meg took the cup out of Grandmother’s hands. “You must need a rest, Grandmother. I’ll talk to Matthew, and we’ll set up a time to meet with you.”

  “Good, good.” Grandmother closed her eyes. “And when I wake up, I’ll give a call to one of your grandfather’s old friends. I think he might know what to do with those berries.”

  Meg leaned over and kissed her grandmother’s cheek. A little smile fluttered across Grandmother’s lips. “Thanks, Grandmother,” whispered Meg as she gathered the tea things. “Thanks for telling me all this. I know it wasn’t easy, but I really appreciate it.”

  As Meg tiptoed from the room, she could hear Rosa in the laundry room, singing as she worked. Meg quickly rinsed out the cups and pot, and slipped out the back door.

  She sat down on the front porch steps and slowly replayed all that Grandmother had just told her. It was amazing—utterly amazing. Suddenly it was all beginning to make sense, how entangled all their lives had been for three generations. Even after Meg had completely removed herself from her family, the threads that tied them together had reached out to her and eventually pulled her back. Back home.

  “Thank you, God,” she said quietly. “Thanks for bringing me back. Not just back home to Crandale, but back home to you. You knew all along exactly what I needed. I’m so thankful that you never gave up on me, and so glad to be home. I’ll never, never leave again!”

  EPILOGUE

  It was a perfect fall day. Crisp nip in the air, clear blue sky, just a slight breeze blowing in off the sea. Perfect conditions for a cranberry harvest.

  Cal had already predicted that this year’s harvest would be more than twice as big as last year’s. And last year’s hadn’t been bad, all things considered. Grandmother, true to her word, had called up Greyson Landers, an old buddy of Grandpa. Greyson’s family owned a big cranberry-processing company on the East Coast, and in no time Meg was set up with an account. Her berries were harvested right at their peak.

  “Let her rip, Jason!” yelled Meg from below. Everyone cheered as the first bog began to flood. As the water level slowly rose, everyone bustled about setting up equipment. Tom was arranging the big wooden booms that would float on the water, and Matthew was gassing up the new beater that Meg had purchased just last month. Meg watched with pleasure as the dark red cranberries floated up to the surface of the water.

  “Do you want me to start up the beater yet?” called Matthew. He was hunched over, studying the water level of the flooded bog. He looked right at home in his rubber hip waders held by thick suspenders over an old gray sweatshirt. “Come here, Meg,” he called. “I need your professional opinion.”

  “I don’t think the water level’s high enough,” said Meg as she squatted beside him and peered at the submerged plants and floating berries.

  “Maybe not,” said Matthew with a grin. “But look at this.” He plunged a closed fist into the water and pulled it out again. Then he opened his hand and held it up in front of her. Meg’s eyes grew wide as she stared at the glistening ring lying in the palm of his dripping hand.

  “What is it?” she gasped, staring at the diamond surrounded by dark red rubies, just the color of ripe cranberries.

  He took her hand in his. “Something I picked for you.” He looked into her eyes. “Will you have me, Meg? You already know how much I love you. Will you marry me?”

  “Yes!” she cried as she threw her arms around him. After a long embrace, he slipped the ring onto her finger.

  “Hey, you two!” yelled Cal. “Better check that water level. We need to get that beater running, Matthew.”

  Matthew winked at Meg. “I’m getting right on it, Pop!”

  “Well, this was one sure way for you to get back into the cranberry business,” Meg teased as Matthew wheeled the beater into the flooded bog.

  “Sure, and with lots of fringe benefits,” called Matthew. “Shall I start her up then, boss?”

  “Go for it!” Meg grinned, studying the ring on her hand. She felt like shouting for joy.

  The machine started up, and before long, more and more cranberries became loosened from the submerged plants and floated to the surface.

  “Aunt Meggie!” cried Ashley as she ran back and forth along the edge. “Here they come! Just like jewels floating on the sea!”

  Meg laughed and gave her little niece a hug. The other two girls were ready with their plastic rakes. They would gather the shining cranberries onto the elevator that Abner was running. Abner still had his ups and downs, but he had changed greatly in the past year. He was trying his best to be a good father and husband and cousin, and that’s all any of them could ask.

  Meg, Erin, and Abby began slipping the floating booms into place on the bog. The booms would corral the berries into one area so they could be loaded onto the elevator. Meg had paused for a moment to adjust the suspenders on her hip waders when Erin cried out. Meg looked up, startled. Erin was pointing to her hand.

  “What’s that on your finger?”

  Abby stopped and looked toward Meg as well. Meg blushed and quickly explained.

  “Well, it’s about time,” said Abby as she gave Meg a hug. “Welcome to the family, Sis!”

  Erin hugged her, too. Then Clive looked up from where she and Jason were getting the big truck ready and gave Meg a big thumbs-up.

  “I helped pick it out, Meg,” called Clive. “Doesn’t it remind you of cranberries?”

  Meg grinned. “That’s exactly what I thought!”

  There wasn’t much time to chat. Everyone had a job to do. Even Siggie had come out to help. He was overseeing the shaker that cleaned the stems and debris off the berries. Meanwhile, Phoebe and Rosa were working in the kitchen, getting a big lunch ready for the crew.

  The only one missing this year was Grandmother. She had slipped away peacefully in her sleep just after last year’s harvest. And, whether or not it was biblically correct, Meg liked to imagine that Grandpa and Sunny and Grandmother were all looking down from heaven and delighting in the harvest.

  Meg glanced over at Matthew and smiled. Maybe someday her own children would participate in this tradition. And hopefully the story of God’s goodness and how he brought Meg back home to restore the bog would be passed down from generation to generation.

  * * *

  Dear Reader,

  When I started this book, my goal was to create three generations of strong women and show how their lives impacted one another as they all sought their place in the world. But, as is often the case, my story began to take on a life of its own; and before long I realized that the main theme was really about forgiveness. Since I know better than to argue with my stories, I let this one transport me down its bumpy road of hurts, heartaches, bitterness, and ultimately forgiveness. And now that it’s all said and done, I can see how it takes us to the place where we need to live—a place called grace.

  Like Meg, many of us try to unravel the mysteries of our past generations in hope of shedding a little light on life’s current conflicts. And often, understanding will follow, and we will say, “Aha, so that’s why Aunt Claire is so introverted.” And without a doubt, this type of knowledge is a helpful tool to foster empathy and deeper levels of understanding.

  But occasionally we forget to take the next step. And that’s when we become stuck in the process of trying to understand the reasons behind everything, and consequently tend to overlook the power of grace. It’s easy to forget that forgiveness is often the most important key to healing a broken relationship; or that love can cover a multitude of sins.

  I hope Meg’s story will challenge you, as it has me, to try to live in a constant state of forgiveness—both in receiving
and giving. Because I’m certain that God desires for us to forgive others as naturally as we breathe in and out. Perhaps that’s why He gives us so many opportunities to practice. Not to mention how He forgives us over and over, again and again.

  About the Author

  Melody Carlson is the bestselling author of more than 200 books, including the Diary of a Teenage Girl series. She has won various awards for her writing, including the Gold Medallion and The Rita Award, which was won for Homeward. She and her husband divide their time between the beautiful Cascade Mountains and the coast of Oregon. Writing is both her work and passion.

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