Cheyenne and Brett met him at the door.
“When can Pops come home?” Thayne asked.
“If he does well tonight, I’ll release him tomorrow. Dad and Dan are sitting with him right now.”
“How about Dan?” Part of Thayne didn’t want to know the answer, but “denial never saved a body from pain.” Another of Gram’s sayings that Thayne found all too true.
Cheyenne grimaced in sympathy. “Dad has documented quite a few examples that point to some form of dementia over the last couple of days.”
Thayne frowned. “Alzheimer’s like Gram?”
“I won’t know until we run some tests. Dad convinced Dan to let me figure out what was wrong with him. Maybe Dan will be luckier than Gram.”
Thayne could only hope so. He glanced over at his grandmother. He hated losing more of Gram every day, but this week she’d come through like a champ. She’d saved Chloe; she’d stood down a serial killer. He would be thankful for today and deal with the worst . . . when the worst came.
He caught Riley’s gaze and made his way to her. Slowly he bent his head to hers, and she reached up for a long, lingering kiss. He ignored the laughter and shouts around them. He didn’t care. She gripped his arms, and he finally took one last kiss from her and lifted his head.
“Did you plan on putting on a show?” she asked.
“Just reminded us both we’re here to stay.”
“I’m not changing my mind.” Riley picked up her cell. “I received a call from the FBI. They searched Decker’s RV and want me to consult with them.”
Thayne raised his brow.
“I informed them that I’d decided to do a little consulting. I have some paperwork hoops to navigate, but—”
“A consultant can live anywhere.” Thayne pulled her up into his arms. “We have our life. Together. I love you, Riley Lambert.”
She hugged him back before tugging at his shirt. “You need to let Cheyenne see the letter. There’s no point in waiting. Everything’s out in the open now.” She sent a pointed look at the letter on the coffee table.
“You’re right.” Thayne grabbed his sister’s hand. “I have something to show you.”
He handed Cheyenne the letter. She looked down at it and blinked. “Gram’s handwriting.”
“It has to be at least four years old. That’s her normal writing.”
Cheyenne’s hand shook. Brett stood and crossed over to her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “From Gram.”
She slit open the envelope and pulled out a page.
My dearest Cheyenne—
I hope I remember to give you this before it’s too late. I’m going to put a note to myself in the back of my sketchbook. You’re just starting your residency, but I pray you come home to Singing River. We need a good doctor, and Doc Mallard is creeping up on eighty.
I’ve had some bad days in my life. When your grandfather went missing in the war, when we lost your sweet mother, and others I probably won’t ever mention, but yesterday I learned I have Alzheimer’s disease. Lincoln and I cried long and hard, but I think I knew. You may not know this, but a couple of my great-aunts were “soft in the head” as it was known back then.
I’m so sorry for what you and the family will go through. I don’t want to be a burden, and I’ve told Lincoln that, but knowing my stubborn husband, he won’t stick me on top of a hill and let me die with dignity in the old ways of my grandmother’s people. There’s nothing I can do to stop this. I know that. I’ll take the medication and try to stay healthy as long as I can, but I can tell things are starting to disappear from me.
Sometimes my head feels like a television that’s got static. Then it will come back and I see the world again. Please tell everyone that I’m sorry for whatever I say or do that hurts them. I love you all with every ounce of my being.
I could have written this letter to all of you. It’s your choice who you want to share it with. I never told Lincoln or Carson or Thayne because they are in law enforcement, and I never wanted them to be dragged into my business.
The truth began when I was a girl. One of my good friends used to come to school with bruises on the backs of her legs. She tried to hide them. She made me promise not to tell anyone. I didn’t listen. I told my mother and father. Things were different back then. A week later, she didn’t come to school. After another week, we learned she’d died. Fell off the top of the barn, or so we were told. I blamed myself for years, so when another friend married a man who drank way too much, I decided to do it differently. I helped her run.
A few years later I made contact with some friends at church. There’s an organization that moves battered women and children across the country, to a new life. It’s not the ideal solution, but sometimes laws protect perpetrators more than victims.
I pray that I tell you this story before I forget, but I can’t risk it. I won’t be able to help them anymore, Cheyenne. If you’re so inclined, I’m hoping you’ll take on this mission for me. You’ve always had a soft heart. If you choose not to, I’ll understand. Just contact the women at the bottom of this note, and they’ll take your name off their list.
I love you, my beautiful angel.
Your loving Gram
Cheyenne didn’t hide the tears rolling down her cheeks. She walked over to her grandmother and sat beside her, laying her head on her shoulder. “I love you, Gram,” she whispered softly.
Gram patted her head. “Of course you do. Now, don’t look so sad. Today is a good day. We’re having a party. Would you like some ice cream? We can have your favorite. With sprinkles.”
“I’d like that.”
Thayne let out a long, slow breath. “So that was Gram’s secret. Do you really think Pops didn’t know?”
Riley shrugged. “You could ask.”
“Or you could let it go,” Brett said. “Some things aren’t meant to be told.”
Thayne stroked his chin. “Take it from me, Brett. Secrets will bring down more than they’ll protect.”
The doorbell rang. Thayne excused himself, still lost in thought. Quinn stood outside in gloves, holding a leather case.
“What’s going on?”
“We were processing the RV. I thought Riley would want to see this.”
“Come on in,” Thayne said and led him into the sunroom.
Quinn walked over to Riley. “Could we talk out of the way?”
“Sure.”
Thayne led them to Hudson’s study and closed the door. “What have you got?”
Quinn set down the case and flipped open the latch. Inside, side by side, were pairs of what appeared to be wedding rings.
Riley’s slipped on a pair of gloves. Her finger hovered over an engagement ring with a small diamond. “This is Kim Jordan’s ring,” she said softly.
Thayne’s gut turned at the implication. “Six, eight, ten pairs. Only two slots empty.”
“That’s not even the beginning.”
He lifted the velvet shelf. Beneath was a second set, this one completely filled. And finally a third shelf.
“Oh my dear God,” Riley uttered.
“It gets worse,” Quinn said with a frown. “There’s nothing but the rings. No names, no towns, no addresses. We may never be able to find out who belongs to these wedding rings. There are people who don’t know this psycho killed their families.”
Riley stood silent. “I guess we start with couples who died who were in love and happy.”
“Definitely not a happily-ever-after kind of ending, though.”
Quinn shut the case. “I have to return this to the FBI. They’re going to try to follow up. Crosses state lines and all of that.”
“Thanks, Quinn. Good work.”
He nodded. “You too.” He stuck out his hand. “I wasn’t convinced you’d be a good sheriff, but you’ve changed my mind.”
He exited the room, and Thayne looked over at Riley.
“Your gut did that,” he said softly. “How many more would he hav
e killed if you hadn’t recognized the flaw in his plan?”
She closed her eyes and shivered. “I could use a hug.”
He strode toward her and wrapped her in his arms. She laid her head on his chest. “We can find the families,” she said softly. “You and me.”
With a small smile, he pulled back from her. “You want to work together?”
“Why not? What if we open a consulting company, not just me? Singing River Security. We could take cases all over the country. We could help whoever we wanted. We could be based in Wyoming. The best of both worlds.”
“Riley, I have a job.”
“Do you love it?” She bit her lip.
Thayne lifted his gaze and met hers. “I love helping the people in my town. I love being available as much as I can for Pops and Gram and Dad. I don’t love being sheriff.” Thayne glanced at Quinn. “You think a new sheriff who’s been wanting the job for a decade would hire a part-time deputy who used to order him around?”
“I think he’d jump at the chance. You do good work.”
“Then I think we just might have a deal.” Thayne pressed her close against him. “How did you get to be so brilliant?” He kissed her lips. “Does this mean we get to live happily ever after?”
Riley tilted her head. “Of course.”
“It’s about time,” Hudson and Madison shouted in exasperation.
Brett, Cheyenne, and Chloe laughed and looked on.
Gram limped forward and handed Thayne her engagement ring. “Now you can make it official.”
Riley held out her hand, and Thayne slipped the ring on her finger.
Gram grinned. “So when’s the wedding?”
EPILOGUE
The full moon brightened the road in front of Riley on the outskirts of Singing River. Two headlights blinked, and she signaled back. She transferred a duffel full of clothes and several boxes of food and supplies into the back of Cheyenne’s SUV.
Pops had been upset when he’d first learned of Helen’s secret life, but he’d kissed her forehead softly when she’d cried in his arms. She’d only been trying to protect him. Some anger wasn’t worth holding on to. Tonight, Helen Blackwood’s legacy would continue.
Riley knocked softly on the window. Cheyenne rolled it down.
“That’s everything,” Riley whispered. “Did it go well?”
Cheyenne smiled. “Yeah. We’re headed up to the cabin.”
Riley peered into the back seat. A woman hunkered down, the left side of her face mottled with bruises. A small girl nestled at her side. Too thin, too solemn, and a cast on her right arm. “Welcome to Singing River,” Riley said with a smile. “You’re safe here.”
The Wind River Mountains loomed tall in the sky to the east. Riley slipped out of the Jeep and joined Thayne at the edge of the creek. “It’s a beautiful spot, and far enough away from the cabin to be protected.”
Thayne glanced in the direction of the hideaway. “Did everything go as planned last night?”
Riley gave a slight nod and followed his line of sight: the cabin where they’d discovered his grandmother’s secret life, the cabin where a feud had begun generations ago. Both legacies had found new life. One continued on; the other transformed.
“We’re doing the right thing,” Thayne said. “Gram would be proud if she understood.”
Riley slipped her hand into his. “I’ve been thinking,” she said softly.
Thayne’s back stiffened. “Should I be nervous?”
“No. I think maybe I’m the one who should be. I want to take your name when we get married.”
Thayne froze. “What about your career and your reputation?”
“We’re starting a new venture together. I like the idea of Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood against the world.”
Thayne cupped her cheeks and pressed his lips against hers. “Do you know how much I love you?”
“As much as I love you.”
An SUV rumbled up the dirt road. Cheyenne and Brett exited their vehicle, both grinning at them.
“You two need us to leave you alone for a while?” Brett leaned lightly on his cane.
“I’ll try to maintain my self-control.” Thayne smiled. “You bring it?” he asked.
Brett handed over the document. Thayne pulled out the papers Pops had given him along with the new deed.
“Signed, sealed, and delivered,” Thayne said. “All we need is your signature.”
Brett nodded. “I guess the feud is officially over.”
“And the Blackwood-Riverton Alzheimer’s Care Facility has a home.” Cheyenne smiled at her husband. “We’re not Romeo and Juliet anymore.”
“I don’t plan on dying for a long time.” Brett handed the deed back to Thayne and shook his hand. “How about coming over for dinner tonight?” he asked.
Thayne glanced over at Riley. “How about we take a rain check?”
“Gotcha, brother. So how’s the newly minted deputy?” Brett asked.
“Singing River Security already has a case. We’re tracking down the families of Decker’s victims.” He wrapped his arm around Riley. “It’s what we were meant to do.”
“And Quinn?”
“He’s in the sheriff’s job exactly like he should be. He’s even asked Dad to do a bit of consulting.”
Cheyenne frowned at Thayne.
“Don’t worry. Dad’s going to spend most of his time coordinating the building of the facility. It’ll keep him busy but without all the physical stress.”
“Good job, brother dear.” She kissed Thayne on the cheek, and she and Brett headed back to their car before driving away.
After they’d disappeared down the road, Riley leaned into Thayne. “How about Christmas?” she whispered.
He hugged her close. “Are you sure?”
“A Christmas wedding would be a memory never forgotten,” she said.
Thayne held her tight and they looked across the landscape. “Gram might not remember, but her legacy will run through this valley and this town for generations.”
“A legacy of love, of compassion, of protection. She’ll be pleased.”
AFTERWORD
The Singing River series of novels (Forgotten Secrets and Forgotten Legacy) grew in part from witnessing my mother’s battle with Alzheimer’s disease. We have learned to cherish and embrace the small moments of joy even as we navigate through the tears. If we have learned one truth, it is to be thankful for what we still have and not to wish for what used to be.
When I wrote the first book, my mom still occasionally spoke my name and kissed me on the cheek as I helped put her to bed. That is no longer the case; however, she still holds my hand. For that small joy I am blessed.
My mother’s journey has been a long one, and my family would not have survived without our faith, friends, and the support of the Alzheimer’s Association (http://www.alz.org, Alzheimer’s Association, PO Box 96011, Washington, DC 20090-6011). The local chapter of this organization has provided us with knowledge, support, and understanding, and I cannot express my gratitude enough to everyone who has touched our lives.
I am donating 10 percent of the royalties I receive from all the Singing River novels to the Alzheimer’s Association in honor of my mother, my father, and all those who support them as they travel this difficult road. The Alzheimer’s Association’s vision is a world without Alzheimer’s, and I pray for that day.
To that end, I have created the #1MemoryChallenge, an awareness and fund-raising campaign. This effort encourages the sharing of special memories before they are lost as well as support of the Alzheimer’s Association and its good work. You can find out more about my personal story and the #1MemoryChallenge at http://act.alz.org/goto/1MemoryChallenge or at http://www.facebook.com/1MemoryChallenge.
If you have a friend or loved one who is facing Alzheimer’s disease or another form of dementia, it can feel like a lonely battle. Please consider contacting the Alzheimer’s Association (or a similar organization) for assistance, and please suppor
t the association through your time or donations.
You are not alone.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This story has been a labor of love, and those who know me well recognize the joy and the challenges in bringing this book to life. To you all: I thank you.
Anh Schluep—your patience as I fought through this book was more than I could have expected. I will be forever grateful to you for helping me bring this second visit to Singing River to life.
Jill Marsal, literary agent extraordinaire—your understanding, faith, and support never cease to amaze me. I couldn’t travel this road without you.
Charlotte Herscher, editor—your supreme patience, kindness, and insight made this book what it is today, and I will be forever grateful.
Sherri Buerkle—your talent, honesty, and astuteness humble me. Thank you for going above and beyond with this book. The words within are sprinkled with your magic touch. I am blessed to call you my fellow author and dear friend.
To Bobbie Archuleta, our caregiver and lifeline. Mom’s smile when you enter the room is enough to lighten my heart. You, Zoë, and Azri’el have gifted our lives with light and joy during this long, dark journey. You are a blessing to all of us and will always be a part of this family.
And, as always, to Mom and Dad. They live the words in sickness and in health every day of their lives. They are the definition of true love, loyalty, and devotion, and I am honored and blessed to call them my parents.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Thank you for reading Forgotten Legacy, the second book in the Singing River series of novels. I hope you enjoyed it! If you liked the characters, Forgotten Secrets, the first book, is also available.
If you’re interested in my other novels, the Montgomery Justice series is available:
In Her Sights
Behind the Lies
Game of Fear
If you would like to know when my next book is available or want special information and a chance at giveaways, you can sign up for my newsletter at http://www.RobinPerini.com.
You can connect with me online at the following:
Website (www.robinperini.com)
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