Forgotten

By Betty Lowrey

You know death happens but when it hits your circle of friends, you have to stop and take stock of where your own life is going. What could you have foreseen that would have made a difference?Youve always heard there was more to life after death, but now you question the validity. Sure, there are stories of those who died and returned to give a glimpse of whats on the other side, but do you have enough faith and trust in God to believe in everything you read or hear?

Life has worn this group of friends thin. From legal accusations to marriages fraught with problems, Forgotten addresses their strengths and weaknesses. Dans world is rocked when Ellen is diagnosed with cancer, but this couple is grounded in Gods word. Andrews old boss is determined to make him pay for past mistakes. Theres a price on Andrews head and his wife and child are in danger. Marigold and Matts wedding vows are questioned when he leaves Marigold due to his fathers illness to help out on the family farm. Then his mother sets Matt up with an old girlfriend. Have they forgotten their wedding vows? Resentment, distrust and stubbornness reign.

It is the heartbreak Chester and Bitty face that brings them all to their knees. Divine intervention is needed. Does God hear their prayers? One of thier own is dying.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: May 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781512744149

Betty Lowrey

As Debbie's Mom, Betty Lowrey would tell you, losing a child is possibly the most devastating event in life, for a parent.The blessings of family, friends and acquaintances are truly the light, God's blessing to His children. She comes from a fourth generation that "toiled the soil." A farmer's wife and bookkeeper, Betty now writes Christian fiction. Her wish is to offer the plan of salvation in every book she writes.Telling Debbie's story has been a blessing and a trial. Reliving the good, the bad, and the heartbreaking moments are forever engraved on her soul. Until they meet again, Betty continues her and Debbie's work to show and live with Faith, In Spite of the Storm.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

I T WAS A BIG DEAL. She didn't care who said otherwise. Not being accepted hurt. For a moment, Marigold paused to stare at the line of crystal Harriet insisted she bring into the shop. Apparently her birth mother knew what women wanted in their homes.

At the thought of Harriet being her birth mother, Marigold giggled. Only God could orchestrate a plan that brought a child given into adoption some twenty years ago to live two doors down. For the first year she and Harriet could hardly stand each other and for a while it looked as though the second was not much better.

The move from Texas to Missouri after her adoptive parents were killed in a car accident had been the biggest ordeal of her life, until the birth of Matthew John. That hadn't gone well either. Marigold sighed. She had to do better. Her own foolishness had almost cost her life and that of Matt's child, all because his mother would not accept her into the family and she had made Matt promise if she chose to marry him he would give his mother time to like her without the knowledge they had already gone against her wishes. Instead, in the time of secrecy Marigold became pregnant and being young and inexperienced in the matters of pregnancy had almost died taking their son with her. In spite of the trauma, Matt's mother had not accepted his wife nor given any attention to their son.

She shook her head that she had allowed the melancholy of the matter to consume her again; for it did consume her. Standing still for a moment she pondered the injustice of being Vivien Langley's daughter in law. The woman seemed to discard her as a mere frailty to her son's choice, certain in time he would see the folly, divorce Marigold, assume custody of the child and in her words, get on with life.

The phone ringing brought Marigold back to reality. Hello. A smile eased the frown from her face. Why, Haley, you know I'd love for you to drop in to go over your bridal list. Don't fret, we will make time and yes, it is better than trying to discuss your plans on the days you are working.

There was another situation. Haley's in-law's-to-be seemed to adore the girl. The duster picked up momentum as another huge sigh consumed Marigold. Vivien Langley could not possibly understand the lengths she had gone to, trying to ease their relationship. Here was Haley, young and smart but had been in prison for a span of two years and did Jeremy's parents care? No. They embraced Haley as the best thing that had happened in their son's life.

Matt. Marigold's heart ache over his mother eased. Matthew Langley asked only that she respect his mother. While he loved his parent's it was Marigold and their son received the attention Matt felt a marriage demanded. He was the best. If she were able, Marigold would fix the situation immediately for Matt. She lingered, the duster listless in her hand, while her mind thanked God for the wonderful man he had given her. Heavenly Father, silently she prayed. Please watch over our family today.

*Matt*

THE STRUCTURE WAS RISING AS the Phoenix from the ground. Closing the truck door, Matt gathered tools from the back and hurried toward the men laying the sub-floor. Looks like you've got a good start, he said. I think I found the type screws you wanted. I'll just sit them over by your coolers until needed. The men nodded and continued figuring the dimensions to cut the next boards. It was their motto, measure twice and cut once. Matt had to smile. The things they had taught him. It was true he came from a good back ground. On the farm there had been many learning lessons, so to speak, by his father and the aged men that had worked for the Langley's but with these died in the wool carpenters had come years of experience they freely offered to the man Harper Gipson had chosen to manage the projects they built. Their first love was building; someone else could do the over-seeing.

He had come to Gipson Construction looking for a job when his mother made life on the farm difficult. The poison her mind spewed had cost dearly but his love for Marigold was worth the leaving. It was his father that concerned him most. After the heart attack he hadn't bounced back to his usual vigorous self; then he had fallen hurting his back. To make matters worse he had become a frail worrying man. Harper Gipson had hired Matt, liking his work ethics and took him under his wing, teaching him the steps of building houses, standing in the gap when Matt's heart ached for the loss and stability he had known and expected as he grew into management of the farm by his father's side; But look where he was now foreman on a building project for the Cape's number one construction company.

The morning wore on, the studs to the walls going up, the swelter of heat bringing dampness around the collar of the men's shirts and down the back. Man. Matt heard the exclamations as the heat index rose and the men suffered. You could fry an egg on the sidewalk. He listened to the good natured kidding as each man tried to out-do the other.

It was near noon when the truck pulled up to the lot and two men got out. The carpenters went on working as Matt walked toward the new comers. Recognition dawned suddenly as the one in front removed his hat to wipe away sweat. Nate? Matt's step quickened as he closed the distance, his hand out to be pulled into a brusque hug by the older man. Mr. Meyer? Matt found his hand now being wrung in a strong grip by the neighbor next door to his father's farm. What brings you here? A puzzled thought flashed through his mind as he wondered how and why they found him. Is something wrong?

Son? Nate Meyer's eyes held a hit of apology for intruding mixed with a glint of pushing on with what must be said. Could we step over there, he nodded toward a lone tree on the lot that Harper had insisted on leaving because the owner who was building had children that would enjoy that tree. He could hear Harper, "Boyo, can you imagine a tree house in those upper branches? Maybe we will just go ahead and build that for those kids, our gift. What do you think?"

Nate, is everything all right? Concern tinged Matt's words.

No, Son, it's not. Nate glanced to his life-long friend as Wilson Hopkins nodded agreement. When's the last time you've been down to your daddy's farm?

A bit of old south whispered in Nate's voice. Matt's father had come to Missouri in the sixties, to farm land next to a plot Nate was working. Both would later buy the acreage and settle into a life time of tilling the soil. Matt supposed Nate Meyers was a few years older than his father, but the two were best friends, neighbors and confidants. They competed good naturedly with each other, stood together through trials and lent support when needed. Learning Nate, too, was from the South, had cemented the friendship and though Vivien, a local girl had dated Nate and Bill Langley; it was Bill won her hand in marriage.

Matt realized they were waiting for his reply. No, sir, I haven't. Matt shifted uncomfortably wondering if his father had disclosed the problem concerning Matt's leaving the farm when he had been groomed since a child to take the reins so-to-speak, as age closed the door on one and opened the possibilities for another, meaning the farm would go on. Is something wrong?

Well, now, When Nate seemed reluctant to continue, Wilson pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and scrubbed at the sweat running down his cheeks. Maybe it might look like we're interfering but things just aren't right, for one reason or another down there. His eyes met Matt's. Your dad's a blame good farmer and it's like this year he can't cover all the corners.

Corners? Shifting his weight, one foot to the other Matt drew a deep breath to ward off anxiety.

What I mean is, look at this heat, Matt? Wilson shrugged as he turned to Nate. Help me out here. How do we tell our boy, here, that the heat is sapping the fields and his daddy hasn't started the irrigation going and every field is in need. He shook his head as he studied the dust at his feet. Matt, if your folks make a crop this year, someone better go out there and get those fields watered.

Will and I thought long and hard about whether to come or not. Nate slipped into the shortening of his friend's name, his voice kind in consideration they'd both agreed the situation could've been their own. Your dad always makes a good showing but this year, his words ended in a huge sigh.

Let me understand this. My dad hasn't irrigated the crops? That seemed incredulous. Nate? Wilson, that's all we've ever known. Irrigate before the crop became stressed. Why isn't Dad irrigating?

It's like the heart's gone out of him; your leaving, your Ma's attitude. Wilson put out a hand, Don't get me wrong, I'm not judging the situation, just tryin' to make you aware of it. He heaved a deep breath. Your dad needs you, Matt. We don't know whether it's his health or lack of employees that he's not getting things done. We respect him, Matt. Therefore, we don't go questioning his intentions, but we can't stand by and let our friends go down. You see where I'm going with this? He needs you.

What do you mean the employees? Have some of them left? A sniggling thought danced in the back of his mind. What about my mother? Already, he thought he could guess the problem.

Removing the wide brimmed hat he wore, Nate pressed it around in his hands, nervously, glancing to Wilson. Help me out here, but Wilson was silent. When your daddy didn't go out, Vivien tried to make a go at it and for some reason she don't communicate too well with the men. She kind of has this commanding air about her and they won't take orders from her. It's not too good, Matt. You need to look into it. Your brother in law tried but he don't know a thing about farming, him being an architect and all that. The heavy sighs were becoming burdensome, even to Nate; he now just shook his head. He washed his hands of it and your sister thinks your daddy will come around but what we're thinking is maybe not soon enough. Wilson nodded in agreement. You need to go home. Today.

*Harper*

HARPER EYED THE STRUCTURE. IT was going up. Elation coursed his mind. This one was moving right along, all because of Matt's fine handling. Yes, sir. Matt was a leader. His work ethics stood against lack of knowledge and the men were teaching him. He'd built before but ordering supplies in preparation to keep the project going he relied on Bert, the head carpenter to help him out and that was a wise decision. Harper stood there, watching, sizing up; this project was sound. They'd have this house built by Christmas once they brought in the finishing crew and that's what the owner wanted; to be in by Christmas.

He and Matt went over the blue print discussing the wiring and plumbing. Harper ran his business like clockwork. When it was time, the crew for plumbing and wiring would come in off of other projects, do their work and move on to the next house. It was the best way; keeping the building moving smoothly along and avoiding one crew being in the way of the other. They'd been together an hour and Harper was alert to something amiss. His boyo was tense and Harper was trying to analyze the situation.

You want to talk about it? He nodded toward the tree, a good distance from the men overhearing their conversation. When Matt followed, Harper felt the first twinge of unrest in his own mind. Nothing wrong with the baby, is there? Matt's son had entered the world under stressful conditions. Or Marigold?

No, sir. Both are fine. Matt took a deep breath and a moment to compose himself. I don't know where to start.

Just hop in and tell me what's going on.

My dad's friends who are also his neighbors came to visit me this morning and there's a problem at the farm. He scuffed the toe of his boot in the dust. It tears me up, hearing what they had to say. I don't know what to do.

Tell me. Harper leaned against the tree, feeling the bark through the thin material of his shirt that was beginning to stain with sweat. He listened as Matt filled him in on the message the neighbors had brought. What do you want to do? No, let me rephrase that. What do you feel you must do?

Tears were in Matt's eyes. It's a hard decision when I think of leaving this job, giving Marigold the news and having to contend with my mother's bitter ways, Harper, but my dad has been the guiding point of my life and for all that Mother is off on the wrong track these days, meaning her attitude toward my marriage and my wife, she raised me with love and the best intentions.

I know that, Boyo. Harper slipped into his nickname for Matt, the one he used to describe this hard working young man he respected and appreciated. Matt had already faced nearly losing the loves of his life while separated from the parents he loved. And all for a foolish mind set of his mother, Harper thought. I tell you what. I'm going to send you down South in the flat bed to pick up a load of lumber. You go by your parent's farm and assess the situation. Take a couple of days and when you return we'll discuss what you find and go from there. He gave Matt a firm handshake. How's that sound? Good enough?

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MATT TURNED THE KEY, CUTTING off the engine and sat in the truck a moment. Marigold's sign beckoned people to her shop. Through the window he saw Harriet placing items on a shelf and wondered what the two had been up to. Matthew John would be with Harriet's housekeeper. His wife and her birth mother had finally come to turns and were becoming mother and daughter at last. Chagrined in the beginning at their own animosity towards each other, now they allowed their diversities to work for them. Marigold's business had caught on and Harriet loved helping her. He climbed out and went in.

You better watch your step, Ma. Matt's smile widened as he placed one foot on the side of the ladder and reached out a hand to help Harriet down. Even a young chick, like you, could fall.

I'm not your ma. Harriet reached for his hand. You watch your step, Buster. You might need me one day and all this messing around with me might make me decide I can't help you.

Faking a wince, Matt, held onto her hand, making her twirl beneath as though they were dancing. You hurt me, Ma. If I wasn't already married I'd be chasing you around the room trying to snag a date.

You. Harriet blushed, enjoying her son-in-law's frivolity. You are a foolish boy.

Are you two at it again? Marigold handed over a crystal bowl that glistened in the sunlight. Harriet's gamble is paying off, we can't keep the stuff. Who knew? Mixing her choice of niceties in with mine, we are in the business. She did a little dance jig as she sang; We're in the business. We're in the business.

Matt reached for her, pulling her against his body, as his lips found hers. I love you, Mrs. Langley.

I love you, Mr. Langley. She grinned up at him. If I'm not mistaken she loves you, too. Are you early, today?

Harper's sending me down south to pick up a load of lumber. I'll be gone a few days so he sent me home to see my beautiful wife and very active son, not to mention my hard-to-handle mother in law.

Phish. Harriet shook her head. I'll leave you two, on that one. She eyed Matt, shaking her head. Buster, you are so full of it. His laughter followed her into the back room where supplies were kept.

So what's up? I thought Harper usually has supplies trucked in.

No one coming this way and we need it.

Will you have time to go by and see your parent's?

Should I? He was hesitant to keep the information from her but if he told her she would worry and he could delay that concern a few days until he knew more himself.

I think so. Marigold's forehead wrinkled as she frowned. I thought when I sent the oil painting you did of them and Matthew John, your mother was coming around. She sighed. After all, she did send that note saying come for a visit. Matt was smoothing the frown, the feel of his fingertips rough on her skin. Don't worry, love. It may take a hundred years but maybe one day she will accept me.

I live for that day. He gathered her into his arms. It's so hard, Marigold, her treating you with such disrespect. Had I done anything like that as a little boy I'd had my butt spanked but good.

Marigold giggled at the thought. Then why is it so hard for you to discipline Matthew John?

I don't want him mad at me.

I believe you've heard the expression, spare the rod and spoil the child. She leaned back to peer up at him.

His heart was heavy. He wanted to tell her why he was going, but he couldn't. Not yet. I love you, Marigold.

I know. She felt his sadness as she wondered what had entered his thoughts. I love you, Matt.

CHAPTER TWO

T HE DAY WAS BRIGHT, TEMPERATURES already in the nineties when Matt kissed Matthew John and Marigold goodbye. His son's arms around his neck, the sweet little head nestled in the hollow between his chin and his chest melt his heart and Marigold's expression told him she knew something more than lumber for Harper Gipson Construction was on his mind. Sitting his son in the high chair he pulled her close, savoring the moment, saying a prayer that God would watch over them while he was gone.

Just a moment, Farm Boy, Marigold's hold tightened around him, her hand splayed on his back, her eyes closed. I'm asking God to keep you safe; his Angels surround you.

They prayed, silently. Finished, they both had tears in their eyes which they laughed about and then kissed. Matt's hands claimed his wife; she wasn't just in his arms she was in his heart. I love you, Tinkerbell.

I love you, Farm Boy. Don't go chasing skirts while you're gone.

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HARPER HAD WAITED AT HEADQUARTERS. The crews were already at the various locations and he would check on each project later. Did you tell Marigold? He studied Matt as the boyo scrubbed the toe of his boot against the gravel. I know you're worried, Matt but if it helps to know, Dorothy and I prayed about the matter last night and again this morning at breakfast. You won't go without God guiding. We are standing in the gap.

It was difficult. I left it as it is. I wanted to tell her but Harper she has suffered not being accepted by my family and it would just add more worry. Now he stared at his boss. Can you understand? I'll go down, test the waters, so to speak and then we'll discuss it.

Harper offered his hand. God go with you, Boyo. Check in when you start back with the lumber and if I need to send someone for it, in the event you need more time with your folks, I will.

Matt climbed into the cab, keyed the ignition and waited for the rumble of the motor as the RPM's rose and he eased into gear, the sound of air released, the usual vibration of the vehicle began and the big truck moved slowly forward and out the drive onto the highway into the mainstream of traffic. His thoughts were a scrabble of what he would find ahead and what he left behind. Marigold, forgive me for not telling you. I just pray whatever lies ahead does'nt alter our lives.

He made the call to the number Harper provided. Yes, sir, the man at the location replied. The lumber is wrapped. You won't have any worry, there.

Four hours' drive, he arrived at the destination and pulled into the loading zone and handed over the order Harper had set up by phone. Matt watched as the lumber was transferred onto the truck. Leaning against the fender, eating a sandwich from the restaurant across the road, he marveled how smoothly the men secured the load.

You can take these papers into the office. One of the men handed over a clipboard for his signature. Matt signed, pulled forward to the office to receive the bill of laden and was on his way. Yawning, he shook his head and reached for a bottle of water from the cooler. It wasn't the miles or the heat zapping his