He made love to her that night, a love that claimed her body and soul. With the sheets twisted and sweaty, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
When she woke the next morning to the sound of Suzie and Zeus calling from the paddock, she knew that her life had been completely and irrevocably changed.
Her eyes sought his face, relaxed and trusting in sleep. She was right where she wanted to be, and that could be any place in the world that held Rory.
EPILOGUE
Three weeks later
“CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?” Rory called out to her over the noise of the crowd milling around the raised platform where they stood waiting for the fund-raiser to kick off.
“Where did all these people come from?” Peggy asked, recognizing faces she routinely saw in the phlebotomy clinic. She and Rory had moved in together just ten days ago, the most wonderful, exciting ten days of her life. With Mrs. Webster’s help, the community was holding a huge fund-raiser for Haiti.
Rory rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. “They’re here because of you, I suspect,” he said, his smile surrounding her, suspending all rational thought.
“Or maybe it’s you they’ve come to see. There are a lot of eligible women here tonight.”
“What’s that saying? I only have eyes for you?”
“Lyrics to a song, more likely,” she chided, waving at Ned Tompkins. He’d dropped by when he’d been told she was leaving for six months and offered to do whatever she needed done. He and her dad had agreed to look after everything for her.
Grant Williams joined them at the podium. “You’re not going to believe this. Eden Harbor and the surrounding communities have raised a little over ten thousand dollars for completion of the orphanage. All in less than three weeks. I’ve never seen a more generous group of people in my entire career.”
“That’s fantastic!” Rory said as he hugged Peggy closer to him. She loved the feel of his arms around her, the soft flannel of his shirt against her cheek, the feeling of inclusion, the love they shared, all of it wrapped up in this moment.
Nestled close to the man she loved, she couldn’t imagine being happier than she was right now.
As the three of them stood together, Neill Brandon came up to them. “Sorry. I’m a few minutes late. Sherri had an ultrasound. Everything is looking good.”
“That’s wonderful,” Peggy said, hugging him. “Where’s Sherri?”
“She and Morgan should be here pretty soon. They were busy discussing colors for the nursery.”
“Congratulations,” Rory said, shaking his hand vigorously.
“Thanks. I guess I’d better get organized.” He turned to Grant Williams, and they began to discuss the information session, which was to be followed by an evening of food and a silent auction.
“Are you happy?” Rory whispered in her ear.
“Yes. I am. I’m a little overwhelmed by the response to your fund-raising efforts.”
“I’m the new kid on the block. It was your connection to the community, the parents of the kids you tutor, your contacts with patients that did all this. Not me.”
She looked up into his eyes, swaying slightly as she held his gaze. “I’ve never done anything like this before. All the reading I’ve done for the past three weeks about Haiti, I couldn’t help but talk it up at work, I guess. What’s more amazing is the way I feel. It’s so different.”
“Meaning?” he asked, his hands lightly caressing her back down to her waist.
“It feels good to share what I have. To be a part of doing something good for others. Donating money is easy, but being involved is so much more rewarding, in a very personal way. I’m so glad I met you. My life has changed completely.”
“So has mine,” he said, his fingers lingering on her waist, tugging her even closer.
They stood close to each other, part of a team. Peggy wanted him to kiss her but knew he wouldn’t. She’d discovered that underneath Rory’s bravado lay a very shy man.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Neill said. “Welcome and thank you for coming this evening. Grant Williams, the head of the orphanage project in Haiti, is going to speak to you about the plans for the orphanage and tell you how successful the community has been in aiding this project. Please welcome Grant Williams,” Neill said, stepping back from the podium to stand beside Rory and Peggy.
So absorbed in being close to Rory, Peggy only half listened to what Grant had to say. In only a few weeks, she had come to love Rory in ways she’d only imagined. She had begun to see how her parents had been so close, so in tune with each other. She had begun to understand how two people who loved each other, holding back nothing, could have decided that her mother’s pregnancy was a totally shared event. That having another man’s baby completed them, rather than separated them. Loving someone meant loving everything about the person without condition.
She glanced around the room, wondering where her father could be. That was the other new exciting part of her life. Her father was a kind, generous man. He’d told her about his family, about how his great grandfather had been one of the original settlers in the area. Hearing her dad talk about Eden Harbor gave her a whole new connection to the community she loved.
Yet as she stood there, it wasn’t just about a family connection to the community she loved, but a love for Rory that she intended to carry for the rest of her life.
A movement near the back of the room caught her eye. Her father had just walked in...with her mother. Her breath caught in her throat. What was her mother doing here? She met her father’s glance from across the room. He was holding her mother’s hand and they looked so happy. She probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Her dad had told her that he and her mom were talking the past few weeks. He seemed so hopeful, so excited when he told her she couldn’t help but wish that they could get back together.
She waited for the pang of resentment over seeing her mother, but there wasn’t one. She couldn’t resist looking in her mother’s direction to see her eyes shiny with tears as she gave a tentative wave. Peggy waved back, leading some in the crowd to glance around, curious as to whom she was waving.
When Grant finished speaking, it was Rory’s turn. Keeping his arm around her, they walked to the podium together. She listened as Rory spoke of his love for Haiti, of his need to volunteer, to offer his support to those who were less fortunate. When he finished, the crowd clapped and cheered. Rory reached to turn off the microphone.
“That was great,” she murmured close to his chest.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Peggy’s happiness filled her heart. The moment hung suspended between them. “Rory MacPherson, will you marry me?” she said, hearing her voice dance across the room. Mortified, her hand flew to her lips. “The microphone is still on!” she gasped.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Rory said to the accompaniment of claps and cheers.
“Kiss her,” the crowd called out.
“With pleasure,” Rory said, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the breath from her lips.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from RESORTING TO THE TRUTH by Lisa Dyson.
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Resorting to the Truth
by Lisa Dyson
CHAPTER ONE
Two months ago
CHARLOTTE HARRINGTON SAT alone in her living room, clutching the sealed envel
ope bearing her name, which was written in her deceased mother’s handwriting. The August sun had set a while ago. The only illumination in her Newport, Rhode Island, home was the fluorescent bulb in the lamp on the end table next to her.
She had no idea how much time had passed since her recently discovered twin sister, Allie Miller, had left with Charlotte’s neighbor, Jack Fletcher. They’d helped Charlotte unload her car after she’d returned from her Boston art show and wanted to give her privacy as she read her mother’s last words.
Charlotte placed the envelope on her lap and wiped her damp palms on her jeans. She’d crinkled the edge of the envelope from grasping it so tightly the moment she’d found it buried in a box of ticket stubs and other memorabilia her mother had saved. If not for the phone call that evening from Felicia Malone, a woman who claimed Charlotte’s mother had been seeing Felicia’s husband nearly three decades ago, Charlotte wouldn’t have gone searching for clues to the truth in her mother’s memory box. Charlotte had stored the box under her bed to sort through later, thinking nothing of significance was inside. The way the letter had been hidden under other memorabilia, she could only assume she wasn’t supposed to find it until after her mother’s passing. The idea made Charlotte even more curious about the letter’s contents.
During their phone conversation, Felicia had claimed that once a week, before Charlotte was born, her husband and Charlotte’s mother would meet at a movie theater and then go to a hotel room afterward.
Charlotte sniffed. More than a year had passed since losing her single, adoptive mother, but the grief Charlotte thought she had under control rolled over her like a tsunami.
She ran a finger across her name on the envelope. The stationery was familiar. Her mother had obviously written the letter shortly before her passing. Charlotte had supplied the stationery when her mother had wanted to write notes to friends after her health had begun to quickly decline. Her mother had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and died a few months later.
Turning the pale yellow envelope over, Charlotte noticed the flap was barely sealed. Her lips twitched slightly. Mom had disliked the taste of envelope glue.
Charlotte slipped a finger under the flap and broke the seal. Even before she removed the contents, she could tell there were several handwritten pages.
She wiped her damp hands on her jeans again and pulled the pages from the envelope. She unfolded the letter, which featured a bouquet of white daisies—her mother’s favorite flower—in the upper-right corner of the first page. Charlotte recognized her mother’s tiny penmanship instantly. She swallowed the lump in her throat and began reading.
My dearest Charlotte,
As you read this letter, please know that my love for you knows no bounds. Even in death, which I know is imminent, my love for you will never end.
Tears welled in Charlotte’s eyes, her mother’s words too blurry to read. She blinked a few times and wiped away the tears running down her cheeks. Why hadn’t she grabbed some tissues before she sat down?
She sniffed and continued.
I’ve always been honest with you about your adoption, but there are details I’ve left out. Details I always thought I’d have time to explain, but I don’t want to add to your burden with my illness coming on so quickly. Hopefully, you are reading this after you’ve recovered emotionally.
You and I have talked openly about your adoption. How I brought you home as an infant, and you’ve been the light of my life ever since. But there are things I didn’t tell you. Maybe because I selfishly wanted you all to myself. It was always you and me against the world. I have no excuse that will make up for not telling you that you have a twin sister.
She had known! Charlotte tossed the letter aside, unable to continue as the sudden anger at her mother roiled inside her. No wonder she’d hidden this letter for Charlotte to find later. Her mother must have known how betrayed Charlotte would feel.
Why had her mother kept Charlotte’s twin sister, Allie, a secret? The sisters had lost out on so many years together because they hadn’t known about each other.
Charlotte and Allie had met by accident at a wedding two months ago, twenty-nine years after they’d been adopted by different families. Charlotte’s existence had been a huge surprise to Allie’s adoptive mother, but apparently Charlotte’s mother had always known.
Charlotte stood and paced in front of her sofa, clenching and unclenching her fists. Why on earth would her mother have kept such news from her? The entire time Allie and Charlotte had been looking for confirmation of their relationship, Charlotte had been positive her mother had been clueless about Allie.
Charlotte needed to know more. She picked up the letter from the sofa and continued reading, still pacing the room.
I want you to be able to find your sister, so you need to know that you weren’t born in upstate New York like your birth certificate says, but in Rhode Island. The lawyer who handled your adoption, Gerard Stone, had a forged birth certificate made for you at my request. It’s the birth certificate you’ve used your entire life, and I always dreaded the day someone would realize it was fake. But that never happened. Thankfully, it was never necessary for you to apply for a replacement.
You were born in Cranston, Rhode Island. The lawyer dealt with many female inmates at the correctional institute there who found themselves pregnant while incarcerated and wanted to put their newborns up for adoption. I met Gerry Stone when I worked at Malone and Malone, the CPA firm in the same shopping center as Gerry’s office.
Charlotte and Allie had already uncovered most of this information. The fact that it was the now-deceased Gerard Stone who had arranged for the forged birth certificate was the only new information. Allie and Charlotte had originally suspected they might be cousins and not twins because though they were unmistakably identical and born on the same day, they were born in different states.
Or so they thought until they were able to track down their original birth certificates in the lawyer’s files a few weeks ago. That ascertained they were twins, both born in Rhode Island, and then confirmed by the DNA results she and Allie had received in the mail that very day.
I was well aware that Gerry did things that weren’t quite legal.
No kidding. Forging a birth certificate, selling babies, separating twins. Those were probably only a few of his transgressions. Who knew what else that man had been up to?
I must admit I never would have dealt with him if not for the man who was the love of my life.
Huh? Charlotte’s mother had never mentioned a man. Oh, a few she’d dated in high school and college, but no one she had been serious about. Was she talking about Felicia’s husband?
Hank was a good man, a very good man, and he loved me, too. If he hadn’t already had a wife and children, he would have married me. Instead, I made him choose and he stayed with them. I understood, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. When Hank made his choice, I found another job because he and his wife owned the CPA firm I worked for.
This was all before you were born. I never could have adopted you without Hank’s help. He gave me the money I needed for the adoption. Not a loan, a gift. That’s how much he loved me. He didn’t want me to be alone and knew how much I desperately wanted a child, a family, because, as you know, I have no living relatives.
Charlotte had been a parting gift. Instead of jewelry, he’d helped her mother buy a baby to ease his conscience. A thirty-thousand-dollar payoff.
Hank died a few years ago, and I sat in the back of the church during his funeral. I left before the family filed past so I wouldn’t cause them more pain. As much as I will miss you, I look forward to reuniting with Hank when my time comes.
Charlotte paused. She had felt that her mother had given up after being diagnosed. Was Hank the reason why? She could have gone through an experimental treatment, but her mother had decided not to explore the option.
I hope you can find a way to forgive me for not sharing this information with you years a
go. The more time that passed, the harder it became to tell you because I knew you’d be hurt and angry. Losing you and your respect would have been more than I could have endured.
Several years ago, I began a search for your birth mother. I thought you might someday want to know your family medical history. Your mother’s name is Barbara Sherwood. Unfortunately, she died from a drug overdose a few years after you were born. She didn’t name a father on your original birth certificate. I have no idea whether you have any other living relatives or where your twin sister is, but I hope you will take this information and find her so you’re not alone.
Again, I hope you will someday be able to forgive me and remember that everything I have ever done was because of my love for you.
Charlotte read the letter a second time and then dropped it onto the coffee table. She put her hands over her face and shook her head.
Her mother had lied to her. Not just a little lie, but a series of lies that had continued nearly three decades.
No wonder her mother had hidden this letter for Charlotte to find after her mother’s death.
Charlotte had believed her mother was the epitome of honesty. She had recently bragged to Allie that her mother would never have kept her twin’s existence a secret if she’d known about it. She was the kind of person who would return to a store if she’d been given too much change, just to correct the mistake.
Charlotte’s text message alert sounded on her cell phone. She picked up the phone from the dining room table. The message was from Allie.
Checking to make sure you’re okay. Jack and I are here if you need us.
She’d been truly blessed to have found Allie, and their meeting had been purely accidental. Charlotte’s friend Jack had taken her to a family wedding. His cousin was marrying Allie’s younger brother. After Jack confused Allie for Charlotte a few times, both he and Charlotte met Allie. Charlotte found her sister, and Jack fell in love with Allie. Charlotte couldn’t be happier for the two of them. In fact, she and Allie’s mother, who had warmly embraced Charlotte like a daughter, had been instrumental in getting them to face their feelings for each other.
Sweet on Peggy Page 25
