Always With Me

by Barbara Freethy

  "I'm working on that, but at the moment, no. I'm not trying to take Hailey away from her grandparents; I just want to see her. I'm talking to Mitch Carver as well as to a lawyer in an attempt to make that happen."

  "It sounds complicated," Adam said, crossing his arms in front of him.

  "It is complicated, not only by facts, but by misunderstandings and grief."

  "So, you weren't married to Rebecca? Nor did you adopt her daughter?"

  "No. But I lived with both of them for four years."

  "According to Mr. Carver, you were responsible for getting their daughter into drugs, which led to her death."

  "That isn't true," he said tersely.

  "All right, putting that aside, if the Carvers have legal custody of Hailey, and they don’t want you to see her, you don't see her," Adam said flatly. "Not until you get a lawyer to tell me otherwise. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Perfectly."

  "Don't be such a hard-ass, Adam," Lizzie said. "Hunter knows Zach. He's a good guy."

  "I'm just doing my job."

  Zach didn't want to be the source of tension between the Cole siblings, but he was happy that Lizzie had spoken up for him, even though she didn't know him very well.

  "So how are things coming at the camp?" Adam asked, switching into a friendlier tone. "Has Hunter bitten off more than he can chew?"

  "It's a big project," he conceded. "We'll have initial drawings into the city next week."

  Adam nodded. "I hope that goes well. You might consider having Hunter be the point person with the building department. Ron Carver has a lot of friends in local government. Anyway, I need to take off. Please remember what I said."

  "I'll walk out with you, Adam," Chelsea said. "I want to talk to you about one of the kids in my class. I'm concerned about his welfare."

  As Adam and Chelsea left, Zach turned to Lizzie. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

  "I wish I could do more," she said, a worried gleam in her eyes. "I know Mr. Carver has a lot of influence in this town. I would hate to see him use it against the camp."

  "If that looks to be the case, I'll bow out. Hunter can hire another architect."

  "But you've already done a lot of work."

  "It doesn't matter. The camp needs to be reopened. But even if I step away from the project, I won't leave Whisper Lake. I need to talk to Hailey."

  "I didn't know Rebecca well. I met her a few times over the years, but I remember hearing about the fire and her death. It was sad. I didn't realize there was a child left behind."

  "It is sad," he agreed. "But I'm not the Carvers' enemy, and they need to realize that."

  "If I can help in any way…"

  "I'll ask. Thanks for the offer."

  "No problem. And just so you know, Adam is a good guy. He can sometimes see things very black and white, but when it comes down to it, he usually does the right thing."

  "I'm sorry the Carvers put him in the middle of a private situation." He paused, thinking he needed a jolt of caffeine to clear his head. "Maybe I will have a coffee."

  "Of course," she said, moving over to the credenza. "Do you take anything in it?"

  "Black is fine. You're a good hostess."

  "It's all I ever wanted to be," she confessed, as she filled a mug. "Even as a child, I was the one hosting the tea parties. I started out as a party planner, but when my partner and I had a chance to buy this inn, I knew this was what I really wanted to do. I've always loved the lake. My grandparents used to live here, and my parents brought us here all the time when we were kids. Now with Chelsea and Adam working here, it's feeling even more like home. If I could get my parents and my two other brothers here, it would be perfect."

  "Where is the rest of your family?"

  "My parents and my oldest brother Grayson are in Denver. My other brother Nathan is currently in New York. We'll see if he hears the call back to the mountains." She paused. "I'm also very excited to have Hunter and Cassidy settling here. Hopefully, more of the Callaways will come for a visit."

  "I've heard a few stories about Hunter's very large family."

  "There are a lot of us," she said with a smile. "I've missed some of the family drama, not being in San Francisco, but my mom keeps in touch with her siblings, so she's almost always in the know. Is your family in Denver?"

  "Not anymore. My family is very small compared to yours. And while you'd think that would make us closer, it has actually had the opposite effect."

  Sympathy filled her gaze. "You've had a rough year, haven't you?"

  "Unfortunately, yes."

  "I'm really sorry about what happened with you and Rebecca and Hailey. I hope you can find a way to work it out."

  "I'm going to give it my best shot."

  Chapter Seven

  "Hi, Mom," Gianna said, as she stepped into her parents' house that evening and gave her mother a hug.

  "Hello, honey. I'm glad you made it. How was your day?"

  She set her purse down on the table in the entry. "Busy. I got a lot of questions, not all of which I could answer. I'm going to run them by Aunt Lois tomorrow morning and see if she can give me some tips. I know art, but I don't know furniture that well."

  "No one knows the antiques as well as your aunt does. Come into the kitchen. Your dad is watching the Rockies take on the Giants."

  She wasn't surprised to hear that since her dad had always been an avid baseball fan. She followed her mother down the hall into the great room at the back of the house, which combined the kitchen, dining room, and family room in one large space. Her dad was sitting in a brown leather recliner, a newspaper on his lap, the remote control in his hand.

  "Hi, Dad." She walked over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  "Gianna," he said, a cool note in his voice.

  "Why don't you turn that off, Dave?" her mother suggested. "So we can talk."

  "It's the ninth inning," he protested. "I'll let you two catch up."

  "We're all going to catch up," her mom said firmly. "And the Rockies are up by five, so you can mute the sound at least."

  "Fine," her dad grumbled.

  She sat down on the couch next to her mom. "How was the party at Linda's house last night?"

  "It was all right," her mom said rather carefully.

  "Why don't you tell her the truth?" her dad put in.

  "Dave."

  "You wanted me to talk. Now you want me to be quiet?" her dad asked, an irritated note in his voice.

  Her heart sank. This visit was not starting out well. "What happened at the party?"

  "Jeremy was there." Her dad gave her a pointed look. "He mentioned that he saw you yesterday, that you seemed unapologetic about calling off another engagement."

  "I don't think that's exactly what happened. He was making fun of me at the café. I didn't appreciate his humor. I also don't like that he's talking crap about me all over town."

  "Well, you've given him plenty to talk about." Her dad moved his recliner into the upright position, his brown eyes hard. "He didn't say anything that wasn't true."

  "Dave," her mom interjected. "Gianna hasn't done anything wrong."

  "She led on three different men. How is that not wrong?"

  "I didn't lead on anyone," she defended. "I just changed my mind, and each situation was different. They also didn't happen in one year. Jeremy and I ended our relationship seven years ago. I'm sorry that I've embarrassed you and Mom, that I've put you in a bad position, but I'm not sorry I called off the weddings, because they weren't right."

  "Are you sorry you said yes in the first place?" he challenged. "One broken engagement is understandable, maybe even two, but three? Why do you keep saying yes?"

  "That's a good question. I really thought I loved each of them. But as time went on, as the wedding date got closer, I realized it wasn't right."

  "Which is a good reason for calling the wedding off," her mom said.

  She gave her mother a smile, grateful for her support. "I'm sorry I've d
isappointed you both," she said, turning her gaze back to her father. "Clearly, I need to do some serious thinking about what I want in my life."

  "Yes," her dad agreed. "I never expected you to be so flaky, Gianna."

  She winced at his words. "I'm going to do better. I know I've made mistakes. I can't blame everything on the guys. I think the problem is I don't know who I am." As the words came out, she realized she was moving into dangerous territory.

  A shadow ran through her mother's gaze, and her dad's lips tightened. She hadn't intended to bring up the photo she'd found or the fact that she might want to look for her biological parents, but she'd inadvertently gotten there anyway.

  "You're going to blame your actions on the fact that you're adopted?" her father challenged.

  "That's not what I meant. It's that I've come to realize I tend to be whoever these guys want me to be—at least in the beginning—and then I see what I'm doing, and I realize I'm not really the woman they want, and they're not the man I want. I don't know if that makes sense."

  "Why would you try to be someone else?" her dad asked.

  "I need to figure that out."

  "Hopefully, you do that before you accept another ring."

  "You don't have to worry about that. I'm taking a break from romance."

  "Good," her father said, his gaze moving back toward the television.

  "I'll get dinner ready," her mom said, getting to her feet. "Gianna, why don't you help me?"

  She followed her mother to the kitchen. "What can I do?"

  "I actually have everything under control, but I thought the two of us could chat."

  "Good call. What did you make?"

  "Roast chicken with mashed potatoes and glazed carrots."

  "Another one of my favorites. You're bringing out all the hits."

  "I try," her mom replied, a strained look in her eyes. She checked the oven, then added, "It will be a few minutes. Do you want something to drink?"

  "Not yet." She paused. "Maybe I shouldn't have come. I could leave."

  "Don't you dare. You and your father needed to talk."

  "I'm not sure it did any good."

  "It's a start. You do need to figure out what you want in your life and who you want to share that life with, but it's what you said about not knowing who you are that makes me a little sad."

  "I wasn't just talking about being adopted; it's that I can't seem to really be myself."

  "Maybe it is about you being adopted. I know you've been curious for most of your life. But I thought you'd made your peace with it."

  "I have. Or I thought I had," she mumbled. "I love you and Dad. You're my parents. You're wonderful. I couldn't have asked for a better family."

  "But you still want to know who your real mother is."

  "Not my real mother—that's you. My biological mother."

  "Perhaps you should try looking for her. I'm not sure you'll get far, but maybe just taking that step will make a difference."

  She licked her lips. "I did find a rather interesting photo last night. I had to pick up boxes and furniture from the camp for Aunt Lois, and in one of those boxes was a picture of a teenage girl. She was wearing a locket, exactly like the one I had."

  Her mom's eyes widened. "Really? Who was she?"

  "I have no idea. There was no name on the picture. And it was at least thirty years old, maybe more. I know the locket wasn't that special. It could be a coincidence."

  "Do you have the picture?"

  "It's at the apartment. Do you want to see it? I could bring it by tomorrow."

  Her mother's gaze filled with uncertainty. "I don't know. Maybe this is something you need to do on your own."

  Guilt ran through her. "I don't want to hurt you, Mom."

  "I know that. But you have questions. You should try to get them answered. You have my blessing."

  "Well, she doesn't have mine," her dad suddenly barked out, as he got up from his chair and came toward the kitchen. "You're now going to go off on some search for a woman who gave you away? Why don't you look for answers inside yourself instead of everywhere else?"

  "Dave, it's okay that she has questions," her mom said.

  "No, it's not, Jeannie. I think this picture you found is just another distraction, another reason for you not to examine your own actions too closely, Gianna."

  She couldn't say her father was completely wrong. Searching for her mom did feel like a good break from feeling bad about ending her relationship with Jeff. But she couldn't make herself feel better by hurting her parents. "You're right. I don't need to do anything with the photo."

  "He's not right," her mom said, shooting her dad a dark look. "We've danced around this subject before—when you lost the locket at camp, when you graduated from high school, when I got sick…it's time. I want you to figure out who you are and if you need to find the woman who gave birth to you to do that, then you have my support."

  Her father rolled his eyes and stomped out of the kitchen.

  "Don't worry about him," her mother said. "He's being protective of me. But I understand your desire to know your personal history. I might feel the same way."

  "Really?"

  "Really," her mom said, meeting her gaze.

  "Maybe I am just looking for a distraction from my problems. I want you to know I didn't come home with the intention to look for anyone. It was the camp; it was seeing Zach again, and then the photo."

  "Wait! Zach?" her mom interrupted. "Isn't that the boy who took your locket? The one you cried over for weeks after you came home that summer?"

  "That's the one. I ran into him at the camp on Thursday."

  "What on earth was he doing up there?"

  "He's the architect on the remodel. He's friends with the new owner."

  "Well, that's quite an interesting turn of events."

  "Yes. He's definitely the last person I expected to see there. He brought back a lot of memories, some of which had to do with the locket, which he again denied taking. I think I believe him now. Maybe I did just lose it. Or someone else took it. Anyway, I saw him, and then I found the photo, and everything started to snowball."

  Her mother nodded. "That's completely understandable. You know, Gianna, I've always felt a little insecure because we didn't share blood, but that's my problem, not yours."

  "I love you so much, Mom. I don't want you to ever doubt that."

  "I love you, too. But you should try to find your biological mother, because if you don't, you'll always wonder."

  "She could be horrible."

  "I wouldn't wish that for you. I wouldn't want her to disappoint you."

  Her mother's generosity only added to her emotional conflict. But there was a part of her that knew she did need to at least try to find an answer to the question that had plagued her entire existence.

  "Why don't you show the picture around town?" her mom suggested. "Put it up in the store. A lot of people come through there. Someone might recognize her."

  "That's an interesting idea. But once I do that, I won't be able to take it back. Are you ready for that? Will Dad be ready for what might come?"

  "We can handle whatever happens. The real question is—can you?"

  Gianna was still thinking about her mother's question on Saturday morning as she drove to her aunt's house. And she still didn't have an answer.

  While it was nice to have her mom's blessing, her dad would not be happy if she pushed forward. They hadn't discussed it over dinner, a meal that had been so forced with trivial conversation, she'd been relieved when it was over. It was the first time in her life that she'd felt out of place within her own family. She needed to think hard about how a search would affect their relationship.

  She parked in front of her aunt's one-story ranch house, located several miles from the downtown area, on a woodsy lot, with a view of the lake. While her parents preferred to live close to the harbor and their business, her aunt had always liked quiet when she was done with work.

  Gr
abbing a tote bag filled with treats, she walked up to the front door and used the key she'd gotten from her mom to open the door. Her aunt was on crutches, but it was still painful for her to move around.

  "Hello? Aunt Lois?"

  "I'm in the sunroom," her aunt called back.

  She walked down the hall and into the sunny sitting room with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the water. Her aunt was in a big armchair, her casted leg up on the ottoman, a pile of books on the table next to her, and her laptop computer on the ottoman.

  "How are you?" she asked, leaning down to give her aunt a hug.

  Lois was her father's younger sister, and like her dad she had dark-brown hair and eyes, but whereas her father was always more guarded, her aunt had an open, welcoming expression.

  "I'm doing all right," Lois replied. "My friend Pam comes by every morning to help me bathe and dress. Then she makes me breakfast and puts lunch and dinner in the fridge. I'm going to gain weight while I'm healing."

  Since her aunt was genetically blessed with a lean frame, Gianna didn't think she had to worry about that. "I'm glad you're eating and that you're being well cared for," she said, perching on the chair across from her aunt.

  "I'm blessed with good friends and a very caring niece. How is the store?"

  "I opened yesterday, as I told you, and we had a busy afternoon. I sold a few pieces. Nothing particularly big, but hopefully that will change, and I can get some of the furniture out of the back room and into the store."

  "I know it's crowded. I had just gotten new inventory when I broke this damn leg."

  "And you now have more inventory from the camp."

  "Well, don't worry too much about what isn't in the showroom already. I can catch up when I get back."

  "I will keep putting items on display as we get space. I need to confer with you on the pricing of various pieces, though. I took some photos and wanted to run through them with you."

  "That was very smart of you," her aunt said approvingly.

  "By the way, I saw two very cool guitars in the back room, one signed by Halston Cooper, who is a huge country-western singer. Should I get those on display? I think they'll sell right away for a lot of money. In fact, I was looking at your website and thinking they should be on the front page."