"About your father, I truly don't know who he is,
but if you want, I'll help you find out."
"I'd like to know. At least I
think
I
would." Katherine shook her head. "Zach warned me that first day. He
told me I was going to stir up all kinds of trouble, and I have."
"Come with me," Claire said. "I want to
show you something."
"I—"
"It's not far, just the top of the ridge."
After a moment, Katherine stood up and followed her
grandmother out of the garden. They paused at the top of the hill and looked
out at the valley.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Claire asked with a
sad smile.
"Yes. It reminds me of my mother's quilt."
"It was Margaret's favorite spot besides the
garden."
"I feel like she somehow called me home."
Katherine uttered a self-deprecating laugh. "I know that sounds crazy. She
had nothing to do with my finding the quilt. In fact, she hid it from me years
ago."
"If she really didn't want you to come home, she
would have gotten rid of the chest. She would have thrown it away and then you
would have never known."
"Maybe she didn't get a chance. I'm sure she didn't
expect to die that young."
"No, but when Margaret took the chest with her, I
had hopes that someday it would bring her home. Instead, it brought you home."
"This isn't my home," Katherine said firmly.
"It could be."
Katherine crossed her arms in front of her chest and
looked out at the widespread valley, the squares of fences, the colors spread
out before her like the quilt that comforted her. She'd never felt like she
belonged anywhere until she'd come here, to
But how could she embrace the town, the people, who had turned their back on
her mother? She had to leave.
But how could she leave? When she was half in love
with the land and more than half in love with Zach.
The thought of the man in whose arms she'd slept made
her sigh. She wondered how he'd feel about her being related to the Stantons,
the family who'd practically adopted him. How odd that they'd turned their back
on their own daughter and yet taken in a teenage boy and raised him with love.
Were her grandparents monsters or flawed human beings?
Did they deserve her love, her understanding, or a legacy of mistrust and
dislike passed down from her mother? Katherine had never felt more torn in her
life.
"It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" Claire
said.
Katherine didn't know if Claire was talking about the
view or the secrets that lay between them. She wondered how the valley could
look so peaceful when her life was in utter chaos.
"Come home with me, Katherine. I want you to meet
your grandfather. I want you to see your mother's bedroom. I want you to give
us a chance. I know we don't deserve one, but I'm asking anyway. Will you come?"
Chapter
20
"
S
it down,
Zach,"
Harry said from his armchair in
front of the fireplace in his study. He waved his hand to the seat across from
him. "We need to talk."
Zach hesitated. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk. He
didn't like the look in Harry's eyes, the expression of utter weariness and
dejection making his shoulders bow, his head droop.
Don't count on
inheriting the old homestead.
"Please," Harry said.
Zach walked across the room and sat down on the edge
of the armchair across from Harry. He glanced over at the fireplace, at the
cold dark ashes, and felt a chill run through his body. Something was terribly
wrong.
"There's been some trouble," Harry began.
"I heard about J.T.," Zach said, turning
back at Harry. "Will he be all right?"
"I don't know. Claire went to the hospital to be
with Mary Jo." Harry paused. "You know, Claire loves Mary Jo and
Leeanne as if they were her very own daughters. In many ways they replaced
Margaret in her heart."
Zach knew he was in trouble now. Even though Zach had
heard stories about the wayward
spoken to Zach about Margaret, not once in the last eighteen years.
"Well, I'm sure J.T. will pull through. He's a
tough son of a bitch."
"I'm not overly concerned with J.T. at the
moment," Harry said, pressing the tips of his fingers together. "I've
found something out, something very disturbing. It's going to change
everything. I thought I knew what to do, but now I find myself faced with a
situation I never imagined would come to pass. Maybe if your father hadn't come
back to town
…"
Harry cleared his throat and looked straight into Zach's
eyes with so much pain and disillusionment that Zach felt himself getting
smaller by the second. He couldn't let Harry say it. He'd hidden behind the lie
for far too long. In fact, ever since he'd told Katherine the story, he'd known
that it was time to come clean, to really stand in front of Harry as a man, and
not as the boy he'd once been.
He'd mocked Katherine for wanting to hang on to a
dream, when he'd done exactly the same thing. "You had to know sooner or
later," Zach said abruptly. "I just wish I'd been the one to tell
you." He couldn't let Harry ask the question. He had to confess. It was
his only chance for redemption.
"Zach?" Harry questioned, his voice shaking
over the one short word.
"Yes, I did it. I took Claire's wedding ring
eighteen years ago and covered it up until I could afford to buy a replacement."
Harry looked stunned, shocked, as if he hadn't heard
the words before. As if
told him. If he had, the old man wouldn't look so completely surprised.
"Well…"
Harry took a deep
breath. "Well."
Zach felt his heart drop to his feet. He'd just
exposed the one thing he'd tried to hide. He'd just set himself up for the fall
of a lifetime. Damn his father and his insinuations.
"You took Claire's wedding ring?" Harry said
finally. "I had no idea."
Zach looked up at the ceiling, praying for divine
intervention, maybe a lightning bolt to strike him dead. But nothing came. He
apparently had to live long enough to tell the truth, to face the music.
"Yes, I took her ring. My father told me he
wouldn't leave me behind in
gave him something to take in my place. He wanted Claire's ring, and I stole it
for him."
Harry's eyes didn't leave his face, and Zach forced
himself not to turn away. If he saw rejection and disappointment and anger, it
was only half of what he deserved.
"Claire's wedding ring was found some time back,"
Harry said.
"A copy. I bought her a new one." Another
long punishing stare set Zach's teeth on edge. But he wouldn't flinch. He wasn't
a scared kid anymore. He was an adult, and he had to take responsibility for
what he'd done. He was glad it was finally out in the open. He had no more
secrets, nothing left to hide.
"You bought Claire a new ring, exactly like the
old one?" Harry seemed to have trouble understanding what Zach had told
him.
Zach nodded. "It took me a while to match it. When
I took the ring I wrote down the inscription, so I wouldn't forget."
Harry slowly got to his feet, picked up the iron rod
by the fireplace, and poked at the ashes in the grate. Zach wondered if the old
man was contemplating bringing it down on his head.
"I'm sorry," Zach said, feeling helpless. "I
know an apology doesn't cover it. What I did was wrong. Very, very wrong. I
regretted it every day since. I'll tell Claire the truth," Zach said, "as
soon as she gets home."
Harry set down the poker and turned to him.
"You will tell her the truth, because there have
already been too many lies told. But I'd ask you to wait a few days. Claire has
enough to deal with right now."
"What do you mean?"
"What I wanted to talk to you about."
"It wasn't the ring—"
Harry cut him off with a shake of his head, a
momentary smile crossing his lips. "I'm afraid you confessed for nothing,
Zach. Your father hasn't spoken about a ring. In a way, I wish he had. It would
have been easier to deal with. No,
Harry sat down in his chair, his shoulders slumping
with fatigue, and Zach was once again struck by the fact that something was
terribly wrong, and it obviously made his long-ago theft pale in comparison.
For that he was grateful, but the look of distress on Harry's face made him
realize that whatever had happened was about to change their lives.
"A long time ago, I, too, made a big mistake,
Zach." Harry pressed his fingers together once again as he put his
thoughts together. "I sent my daughter, Margaret, away, and when she didn't
come back—when I couldn't find her—I told Claire that our daughter had died."
Zach's heart skipped a beat. "You mean she's
still alive?"
Harry immediately shook his head. "No, not
anymore. But she didn't die when I said she did. The only thing buried in the
plot at the
Zach blew a silent whistle through his teeth and sat
back in his chair. This went beyond his wildest imaginings. Hell, it went
beyond anything
"I wanted to ease Claire's mind, you see."
Harry looked at him imploringly as if Zach could absolve his conscience. "I
wanted to stop her from fretting every day about whether or not Margaret was
all right, if she was alone, if she was healthy, if she was hurting. When I
couldn't find Margaret, and I tried to find her, believe me, I figured it was
hopeless and better for Claire to get on with her life."
Zach didn't know how to reply. He was shocked to think
that Harry could have faked his own daughter's death. Those weren't the actions
of the man he knew, the man he held up on a pedestal of integrity and honor.
Harry no longer seemed quite as tall as he used to be.
"Does Claire know about this now?" Zach
asked quietly.
"Yes. As you can imagine, she's furious,
heartbroken, devastated." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I never
thought it would come out. As the years went by, I thought we were safe. I
thought if a miracle occurred and Margaret came home, even though it would be a
shock, Claire would forgive me, because she'd have her daughter back. That didn't
happen."
"What did happen?"
"Somehow your father came up with information I
couldn't find to save my soul."
"My father?" Zach felt his body stiffen in
anticipation of another crushing blow.
"Yes."
Zach's mind whirled with possibilities. He knew his
father had a new game, but he didn't get the tie-in with the
bury Margaret in the cemetery?"
"Apparently he did."
"When did he figure that out?"
"I don't know. It doesn't matter. What does
matter is what I'm going to do now. You know I hired a private investigator a
few weeks ago. You never asked why and I respected that."
"As I respected your right to privacy."
"You've been like a son to me, Zach, or maybe I
should say grandson. Even though what you did with Claire's ring was wrong, I
know you're a good man. That theft came from the hand of a distrustful, scared
sixteen-year-old. You wouldn't do it again."
"I'd like to think I wouldn't."
"I've watched you grow up. I've watched you
change. I've watched you learn to respect yourself."