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  “I wanted to tell you,” Corrie said. “A dozen times, at least, I tried. But you always seemed to have something going on in your own life and I didn’t want to burden you with more.”

  “Oh, Mom, I can’t imagine you going through this alone. You were so young….”

  That sufficiently elevated Roy’s guilt. When Corrie answered their daughter, she didn’t blame him, nor did she discount how agonizing a time it had been.

  “I was fortunate to have supportive parents,” she explained. “They never pressured me one way or the other when it came to deciding my baby’s future. Mom and Dad backed me one hundred percent.”

  The doorbell chimed. “That’s Gloria. We were planning to go shopping at the mall.”

  “I’ll get it,” Roy said. He was closest to the front door.

  Gloria’s eyes widened when Roy let her into the apartment. “I believe we’ve met,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Linnette’s father—and yours.” He heard the gasp behind him as his family took in what he’d just said.

  Gloria gave him a slow smile. “I wondered when you’d figure it out.”

  Roy hugged her, nearly choking on emotion. Then he turned to face his family, one arm around Gloria’s waist. “Corrie, this is our daughter.”

  Corrie rushed forward, tears flowing down her face, and threw her arms around Gloria. “Oh, baby,” she murmured. “My baby.”

  “Gloria,” Linnette said in a shocked voice. “You? It’s you?”

  Gloria, who was weeping now, nodded. “You can’t imagine how excited I was when I discovered you were my new neighbor. It seemed like fate when you moved in practically next door.”

  “I felt a bond with you from the beginning,” Linnette told her.

  Gloria wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Now you know why.”

  “How did you find us?” Corrie asked.

  “Through my grandmother. Apparently she knew your mother and, when Gran heard Corrie was pregnant, she approached your mother on behalf of her daughter and son-in-law. It was a private adoption.”

  “I should’ve known that,” Corrie whispered, “but I was so lost in my own pain I didn’t pay much attention.”

  Roy reached for her hand and gripped it hard.

  “My mother never said a word,” Corrie said, frowning, “not even in her journals. Perhaps she was afraid I’d read them one day—which I did.”

  “What made you come and look for us?” Mack wanted to know.

  Gloria looked at him, then stared out the window, unseeing. “My parents were killed five years ago in a small-plane accident. Dad loved to fly, and the three of us had scheduled a day trip to Fresno, where Dad was hoping to buy property. I had to cancel at the last minute, not knowing I’d never see my family again.” Fresh tears gleamed in her eyes. “My grandmother, who was my only surviving relative, helped me bury them.” She swallowed hard and waited before continuing her story. “Losing her daughter devastated Gran. When she knew she was dying, she told me I had another family and that I should look them up. She couldn’t bear the thought of me being alone.” There was another pause. “She died a week after telling me.”

  “So you were able to track us down easily enough. But why did you address the postcards to me?” Roy asked.

  Gloria glanced down. “I was hurt and angry. I saw my original birth certificate and realized you hadn’t signed off on the adoption. My grandmother said you weren’t in the picture. I felt you’d abandoned my mother, so I wanted you to wonder—and worry.” She paused, swallowing hard. “I don’t feel that way anymore.” Her gaze slid to Corrie. “You love her and—your children. I see that now. I know I should’ve gone about this differently. But once I started mailing the postcards and everything, I didn’t feel I could stop until you found me. Do you understand what I mean?” At Roy’s silent nod, she said, “It was wrong and I apologize for that.”

  Linnette stood and walked over to Gloria, placing both arms around her. “Right or wrong, I’m so grateful you found us,” she breathed. “You can’t imagine how much I’ve always wanted a sister. Do you remember, Mom?”

  “Yes,” Corrie whispered, still fighting her emotions.

  “At first I wasn’t going to do it,” Gloria said, facing Corrie. “I figured you hadn’t wanted me, so I didn’t want you—which wasn’t true. However, I wasn’t planning to intrude on your life. But then I learned you’d married my father and that I had two full siblings.”

  “It took me a while to work it all out,” Roy said. “Still, I—”

  “Just a minute,” Mack interrupted. “Aren’t you in police work? Just the way Dad used to be?”

  Gloria nodded.

  “Hey, Dad,” Mack said. “You finally got your wish. One of us followed in your footsteps.”

  Roy smiled. He had his family with him. His whole family.

  Forty-Six

  Grace stopped at the house on Rosewood Lane on her way home from the library. It was the Monday following Easter. Little by little, she’d moved most of her possessions to Cliff’s house—clothes, books, important papers. Saturday morning, Cliff had brought his truck and they’d packed up the last of her things, except for the larger pieces of furniture. He wanted her completely moved into his home. However, Cliff had suggested she not leave the house vacant much longer, fearing it would invite vandalism. Grace thought that was unlikely, since there wasn’t much crime in Cedar Cove—but then she remembered that incident of arson in the park.

  Her husband—she wondered if she’d ever grow accustomed to thinking of Cliff as her husband—was right. It was time to reach a decision, hard though that would be. The small house on Rosewood had been her home for more than thirty years, and she found placing it on the market a painful and difficult prospect. But Grace was afraid that renting it out would be too much extra work for her and Cliff, and she didn’t want that.

  Kelly had been born while she and Dan lived in this house. Both Maryellen and Kelly had attended elementary school around the corner. The girls had gone through the traumatic teen years here. When they’d grown up and moved away, Grace and Dan had briefly experienced the empty-nest syndrome.

  The neighbors on Rosewood Lane were her friends. When Grace had gone back to school for her degree in library science, Mrs. Vessey across the street used to baby-sit the girls after class until Dan got home from work. Mrs. Jennings down the road had two daughters the same age as Grace’s. They still compared notes. These days their conversations were mostly about gardening.

  Her rose garden. That was something else Grace didn’t feel she could leave. Working on her roses had brought her such comfort in those early months after Dan’s disappearance.

  At the thought of her dead husband, Grace grew teary-eyed and sad. Kelly and Paul had recently announced that they were expecting another child. Dan would have loved his grandchildren. He’d loved both girls; she’d never doubted that, although he’d felt closer to Kelly. He’d been alive when their youngest daughter learned she was pregnant with Tyler. Until Dan’s body was found, Kelly had refused to let go of her belief that he’d return, with a perfectly logical explanation of where he’d gone and why.

  That was never to be. The demons that haunted Dan had been merciless and unforgiving. How she wished he could have talked to her about his ordeal in Vietnam. Perhaps then, the outcome might have been different.

  His suicide was her life’s greatest tragedy.

  Because Dan was on her mind, Grace went out to the garage, which had been her husband’s domain. She missed not having Buttercup at her side.

  As she walked through the garage, turning on the lights, Grace remembered the day she’d discovered that Dan had destroyed the last Christmas gifts she and the girls had given him. At the time she’d been filled with rage and grief, incapable of understanding why he’d done something so cruel. She’d assumed he hated her, hated his life with her. She’d assumed wrong. The person Dan hated was himself. She understood now that Dan hadn’t considered himself worthy of th
ose gifts. Because of that, he’d repeatedly turned his back on any good thing life had to offer.

  Most of what was in the garage had belonged to Dan. Grace didn’t know what to do with his tools or the expensive tree-cutting equipment. Sell it, she supposed. Other than a few photographs—and her memories—this was all that was left of her dead husband. Kneeling on the cold concrete, she peeked inside a couple of the cartons and saw books and old magazines. How sad that Dan’s legacy to his family was reduced to a few cardboard boxes.

  “I thought I’d find you here.” Cliff’s gentle voice came to her.

  Startled, she glanced up, surprised to find it dark outside. “What time is it?” she asked.

  “Almost eight.”

  “No!” She couldn’t believe she’d been in the garage so long. It felt like only a few minutes. Unable to resist checking her watch, she confirmed that Cliff was right.

  “Is there anything you need to take back to the house?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “This was Dan’s stuff.”

  Cliff stepped into the garage. “You’re wondering what to do with it now?”

  Grace smiled, grateful her husband understood. “I could always give it to the girls, I suppose.” Although what Maryellen and Kelly would do with it was another question.

  “That isn’t really the problem, is it?” Cliff said softly. He looked around, although she was sure he’d been here a dozen times. “You don’t want to let go of the house, do you?”

  When he said this, she recognized her reluctance for what it was. “No,” she confessed. “No…I can’t. Not yet.”

  “Then keep it.”

  “You don’t mind if we rent it? Even though dealing with tenants is a bother…”

  “Grace, no. Of course I don’t mind. It’s your home to do with as you wish. And if we choose the right tenants, it won’t be much bother.”

  She felt a great sense of relief and slipped her arms around Cliff’s waist, hugging him close. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “For what?” He sounded amused.

  “For loving me.”

  “That, my dear,” he said, lifting her chin so she could look into his eyes, “is the easy part.”

  “I love you so much.” Her feelings for him, and her lingering grief over Dan, brought her close to tears.

  His arms circled her. “I know you do.” He kissed her forehead. “Are you ready to come home now?”

  Grace nodded. Home, she told herself, was wherever Cliff was.

  With his arm about her waist, he led her out of the garage. “You haven’t had dinner, have you?”

  “No.” Now that he mentioned it, she realized how hungry she was. At that very moment, her stomach growled as if to verify the fact.

  “Do you want to stop somewhere in town and eat?” he asked.

  She smiled gratefully. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

  Despite not having reservations, they decided to try The Lighthouse, which was doing good business for a Monday night, if the packed parking lot was any indication. When they got inside, Justine seated them immediately—to Grace’s pleasure and gratitude. As they ordered a glass of wine, she noticed Cal and Linnette McAfee. They sat not far away, their heads close together. This was definitely a romance in the making. Grace wasn’t sure what had happened, but all at once those two seemed to be a real couple.

  “What’s going on between Cal and the McAfees’ daughter?” Grace asked in a low voice, leaning toward her husband.

  “I don’t know,” Cliff answered. Their eyes met above the menu and Cliff raised his eyebrows. “I asked Cal the other day and he pretended not to hear. I guess he doesn’t want to tell me. I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s a very private person.”

  “I thought he wasn’t interested in Linnette.”

  Cliff shrugged. “That’s what he’s been saying for months, but from all appearances, his feelings have changed—a lot.”

  Grace didn’t see much of Cal these days. By the time she left the ranch to drive into Cedar Cove, he was already busy with the horses, either in the barn or one of the pastures. In the evenings, Cal gave the newlyweds their privacy. Grace hadn’t said more than a few words to him in the two and a half weeks since they’d returned to the ranch.

  “Judging by the way he’s acting, I’d say he’s in love,” Cliff said in a low voice.

  “What makes you so sure?” Grace asked, although she shared his suspicion.

  Cliff’s mouth twitched. “Cal Washburn walks around with a dopey look most of the time.” He hesitated, and a smile lit up his face. “As a matter of fact, so do I.”

  Her husband’s words warmed her heart. “Me, too,” she whispered. “Me, too, Cliff.”

  Cliff set aside his menu and reached across the table for her hand. She was grateful he’d read her mood so accurately. She needed this time just for them, in a place that was neutral, that wasn’t her house or his.

  Seeing that they were ready to order, the waitress hurried to the table, pad in hand. Grace chose the halibut in shrimp curry sauce, and Cliff asked for a T-bone steak.

  Both dishes were excellent. Grace was thrilled that Cedar Cove had such an outstanding restaurant. She was proud of Justine and Seth and the success they’d made of this enterprise. Having worked as a commercial fisherman, Seth knew good fish and seafood, and served only the freshest. She could see that owning a restaurant was demanding, but so far the couple’s marriage seemed to be withstanding the pressures. Grace hoped that wouldn’t change.

  When they’d finished, Cliff paid their bill. “Ready to leave?” he asked.

  Grace told him she was. While Cliff retrieved her coat, she saw that Cal and Linnette were lingering over coffee; Grace smiled at them but they were completely absorbed in each other.

  In the parking lot, where she and Cliff had both left their vehicles, he insisted on checking her car. She followed him home, arriving a minute or two after him. He waited for her outside the house while she parked in the space he’d cleared in the garage. When she joined him, Cliff placed one arm around her shoulders. Yawning, he covered his mouth with the other hand.

  “Is that a hint, Cliff Harding?” she teased and playfully elbowed him in the ribs. He had a vigorous sexual appetite, although they were still a bit shy with each other. She knew exactly what he meant—he wanted to go to bed…and not because he was tired.

  “Well, I guess you could say so.”

  She laughed and slipped her arm around him, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s late, isn’t it? We should’ve been in bed hours ago.”

  “Yes—extremely late. So we’d better get a move on.”

  Grace smiled to herself. After all, she wanted the same thing her husband did.

  Forty-Seven

  Cecilia woke from a sound sleep at Aaron’s first cry. She groaned inwardly and glanced at the clock-radio on the nightstand—4:10 a.m. It’d been four hours since she’d last nursed. Aaron was hungry again and he wouldn’t return to sleep until he’d been fed.

  Ian rolled over when she climbed out of bed. “Need any help?” he asked sleepily.

  “No thanks, sweetheart.” It wasn’t as if her husband could give Aaron his breakfast. Breast-feeding was a new experience; she’d never had the opportunity to nurse Allison. She’d pumped her breasts, wanting to believe that her milk would somehow provide the sustenance to pull Allison through her medical crisis. Sadly, it hadn’t.

  Carefully lifting Aaron from his crib, she shushed the newborn, who was crying hard enough to wake the neighbors. Cecilia soothed him with gentle whispers as she changed his diaper and settled in the living room rocker. Singing softly to him, she unbuttoned the front of her nightgown and gave a slight gasp when her hungry son latched onto her nipple.

  Ian’s barely discernible laugh caught her attention. “I have a strong son,” he said, walking into the room. He was barefoot and wore only the bottom half of his pajamas.

  While Cecilia rocked and nursed the baby, Ian sat across from
her.

  “You don’t need to get out of bed for this,” she felt obliged to tell him.

  “I know. I wanted to. It’s been two weeks now, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of watching you nurse our son.”

  She brushed the tiny wisps of hair away from Aaron’s sweet face and gazed down at him in utter amazement as tiny milk bubbles formed at his mouth.

  “From the first moment I saw you, I thought you were beautiful,” Ian whispered.

  “Oh, honey, stop.” His compliments embarrassed her.

  “You were,” he said with a sigh. “But you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do right this minute.”

  His words filled her heart. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He seemed about to say something else, but paused, as if caught up in the emotion of the moment. After a while he said, “I’ve been thinking about us finding a house to rent. Maybe with an option to buy.”

  She smiled at him quickly. “I’d like that. Where?”

  Ian shrugged. “Cedar Cove. I want our son to have a real yard to play in and a neighborhood with other families, other kids. Living in a duplex is fine for you and me, but we have a baby now who’ll need room to grow. What do you think?”

  “Let’s start looking today!”

  “I’ll check with a rental agent to see what we can find.”

  Cecilia nodded, excited by the idea.

  As soon as Aaron was satisfied, he fell asleep. Holding him over her shoulder, Cecilia rocked for several minutes until she felt she could place him in his crib again without fear of waking him.

  Ian crawled into bed and pulled aside the covers so she could join him. Cecilia curled up against her husband, but after a few minutes, she shifted away in an effort to get comfortable. Ten minutes later she was back.

  “Want to tell me what’s on your mind?” Ian suggested when her restlessness didn’t end.

  “I don’t want to keep you awake,” she protested.

  “It’s either you talk or you wake me every time you roll from one side to the other. I might be on leave, but I still need my sleep.”