Page 91 of The School Mistress (Emerson Pass Historicals 1)

I vaguely recalled the incident. If memory served, Ida had been about six months pregnant with Fiona.

“She said Flynn was the strong one. That he’d taken all the strength and that I’ll die young.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How could she have said such a thing to a wee boy? “Theo, this is quite simply not true.”

His round eyes watched me, world-weary and resigned. “How do you know?”

“Because I’m your father. I know everything about you.” I smoothed the bedcovers over his thin legs. “There are all different kinds of strengths.”

“Like what?”

“Flynn and your little sisters are made of solid stock, no question. Your and Josephine’s strengths are more of the kind that come from in here.” I tapped my chest. “You have strong hearts that make you kind and compassionate and so very generous. Did you know that it’s harder to be kind than physically strong?”

“Are you sure?”

“Physical strength is good, too, of course. But as you grow older and become less agile and strong, what remains untouched is what’s inside you. Your kind of strength never goes away. In fact, a kind heart continues to grow larger the longer you live. Kindness takes practice, after all.”

“It does?”

“Absolutely.” I placed my hand on his shoulder. “The way you see the suffering in others and try to help is a great gift to the world. When you become a man, you’ll be a force of good.”

“Why did Mother tell me I was weak? Could she not see what you see?”

I hesitated before answering. Since Ida’s death, I’d struggled to keep my bitterness toward her inside. She was the children’s mother. They deserved to remember the good parts of her. “Theo, your mother was not well. She couldn’t see anything clearly.”

“Like a blind person?”

“No, not like that. Even if a person’s eyes don’t work properly doesn’t mean they can’t see with their other senses. Your mother’s illness made it so her brain saw everything the wrong way. She could only see darkness. No light at all, do you see?”

“Miss Quinn said it wasn’t my fault that Mother went into the snow.”

“Did you think it was your fault?” I stared at him, incredulous and horrified. Had he thought this all along?

“Yes,” he whispered. “I thought it was because I was…” He trailed off. His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked several times.

“Because of what?”

“Being here. Being the weakest.” Tears leaked from his eyes.

I reached into my robe for a handkerchief and used it to soak the dampness from his perfect cheek. “Darling boy. None of your mother’s troubles were because of you.”

“I heard you and the doctor talking about how Mother got sick after we were born.”

“That is true. But it’s not because of anything either of you did, but that there was something in her brain that wasn’t right.”

“Miss Quinn told me that too.”

“And do you believe her?” I asked.

His gaze lifted upward. “I want to.”

In the seconds it took before I answered my little boy, a myriad of thoughts crossed through my mind. Like me, Theo blamed himself for Ida’s death. How many times had I thought if only I hadn’t made her pregnant a third and fourth time? I’d blamed my lust for her troubles. However, if what I was telling my little boy was true, then wasn’t it the same for me? What was wrong with Ida was no one’s fault. Not even hers. I’d blamed her for what was out of her control. She hadn’t wanted to be sick. She’d wanted to live before the mental illness had pushed her into darkness.

“Papa, what is it?” Theo reached from under the covers to grasp my hand. “What’s made you sad?”

“What happened to your mother was no one’s fault. We have to forgive ourselves and her for what happened and move forward.”