“Or it could be the reality. You’re not going to know until you follow your hunch. Tell me what it is.”
“It may come to nothing. But my mother and I did use the same old-fashioned appointment calendar, and I have this box at the ranch—something my father gave me when I was little—to keep photos, souvenirs and mementos in. I was wondering if Eva might have something similar.”
“Good idea. Where do you want to start looking?”
“We could start here…but that would be stalling. I’ve always kept mine on a shelf in my closet.”
“Let’s go.”
Eva’s bedroom opened off the library. Maddie gripped Jase’s hand tightly as they crossed to the closet. “It might not be here. She could have rented storage space. It could be at Eva Ware Designs.”
“Let’s see.” The moment Jase opened the door, he heard Maddie’s breath catch. There were two boxes on the shelf above the neatly hung clothes. One was labeled Taxes; the second box was red and unmarked.
“The red box—it’s exactly the same as the one my father gave me. What are the odds? He must have sent it to her.”
Without a word, Jase lifted down the box and carried it back to the library. Then they sat down on one of the leather couches and Maddie opened it.
It was filled with photos and letters from Mike Farrell. Maddie lifted them out one by one. Most of them marked milestones in Maddie’s life—her birthdays, graduations.
“This was my very first jewelry show,” Maddie said, giving him the picture.
“The photos have been handled, Maddie. Look at the worn edges. Eva looked at them.”
She met his eyes. “But she never called, never came to visit. And I can’t just blame my mother. My father went along with whatever it was they decided. I don’t understand it.”
Jase lifted an envelope out of the box and examined it more closely. “This one is addressed to your father, and it’s never been mailed.”
“Open it.”
When he did, they read it together.
May 15thDear Mike,
It seems strange to be writing to you after all these years. You, of all people, know what a coward I am. I’m afraid to pick up the phone. And if you don’t answer this letter, I’ll understand.
I’m regretting the agreement we made all those years ago. You told me I would, and you were right. I just couldn’t see it at the time. Of course, keeping me informed about Maddie’s life through photos helped.I’ve been to her Web site, and her designs are beautiful. I haven’t been nearly as good about sending pictures of Jordan. But at least you have the ones when she was competing in horse shows. And when you’ve sent presents, I’ve seen that she’s gotten them—even if I didn’t tell her who they were from. She’s a talented young woman with a very good head for business. I’m fortunate to have her with me. You were right about that—and so many other things. I owe you a great deal.
Enough stalling. I’m writing because I wonder if it’s time that we brought the girls together. I’ve been struggling with the idea for over a year now. They’re both out of college, independent young women. What do you think? I’m so afraid that they’ll hate me for what happened.
And perhaps after all these years, you’re happy with the way things are. Let me know and I’ll abide by your decision.
I hope this letter finds you well.
All my best,Eva
Jase waited while Maddie skimmed the letter a second time. “She wrote it but she didn’t send it. He wouldn’t have gotten it anyway because he died on the twelfth of May that same year. But I would have received it, and I would have probably opened it and read it.”“Perhaps she changed her mind and called your father after all.”
Maddie sighed. “There were so many calls after he died.”
“And if she’d asked for Mike, you would have told her that he’d passed.”
“Yes.” She glanced again at the letter. “This raises even more questions than it answers. I’m so afraid they’ll both hate me. Why would we hate her? Because it was her idea to separate us?”
“Perhaps.” Jase took the letter and placed it on the table. Then he took her hands in his.
“So a year ago, she was thinking about bringing us together, and when my dad died, she changed first her mind and then her will? Why wait until she was dead to bring us together?”
“You may never get all the answers, Maddie. And you may not get the ones you want. But I can theorize about the timing. You’ve discovered how focused Eva was on her work. But at the time she wrote the letter Jordan had been working at the Madison Avenue store for about a year. She’d come back after six years in college and graduate school, and she was insisting that she and Eva spend time together—having lunch, going to the theater, shopping. Eva was getting to know Jordan as an adult, and perhaps she wanted to know you too. Then when your father died, she may have lost her courage. Perhaps she was afraid of losing both of you if she revealed what she and Mike had done.”
“So she arranged to have us meet after she was dead? What a waste.”
“I agree.” Jase leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers. “You know, we don’t have all the answers yet. You were both born in Santa Fe and there may still be people who remember your mother being there, however briefly. I’m betting Jordan is investigating that possibility.”
“We have to call her, fill her in. And find out why she’s had her cell phone off for the past few hours. But now that Adam and Dorothy are in police custody, she should be safe, right?”
“She should be, but I’m going to ask D.C. to stay out there for a few more days.”
Maddie drew out her cell phone. But before she punched in the numbers, she turned to him. “Whatever questions or criticism I have about my mother, she did one thing right with her will.”
“What’s that?”
“She brought you into my life. I’ll be forever grateful to her for that.”
“Ditto,” he said, and he pulled her closer for a kiss. He would be forever in Eva’s debt for bringing him Maddie.