by Hope Ramsay
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ashley had watched the lover’s quarrel unfolding in her rose garden and driveway. Jenna, with tears in her eyes, and Jude St. Pierre looking like he’d just been kicked in the head by a mule.
So something had happened between them when they’d disappeared that day everyone showed up to paint the vicarage. Looking at Jude’s face as Jenna pulled out of the drive, Ashley couldn’t help but feel for him. He looked as if his heart was breaking.
She sure knew what it felt like to have a broken heart.
Like Jude, she wasn’t all that happy that Jenna had checked out early. Even though Ashley was selling the house, every dollar in rental income was precious.
She opened the front door. “Has she gone for good?” she asked.
He turned, blinking at her. “I guess so.” He looked shell-shocked.
“Can I get you something. Some iced tea? A cookie?” Not that tea and cookies would mend what was wrong with him.
He shook his head.
Ashley was about to close the door to give the poor man a moment to pull himself together when Patsy Bauman pulled her old Lincoln Town Car into the drive. She hopped out, looking a little frantic, which was kind of amazing for Patsy. Her gaze landed on Jude as she said, “Oh my goodness, she’s gone, isn’t she?”
Jude turned toward Patsy, and his expression changed. His brows lowered, and his gaze narrowed. “What did you say to her? How could you have thrown her out? You know she came here hoping to connect with you and Harry. She’s your family.”
“I didn’t…Well, it was mostly…Oh, dear…” Patsy stumbled a little, and Ashley shot out of the doorway to steady the older woman.
“What happened?” Ashley asked.
“Well,” Patsy said on a long breath, “I think I may know who paid for your roof.”
“Who?”
“Jenna.”
“Why?”
“Maybe for the same reason she bought advertising for Barrier Island Charters,” Jude said, his voice low, a sheen in his eyes conveying his emotions.
“What?” Ashley asked.
“She told me she wanted to invest in us. I guess that’s what happens when you’re as rich as she is,” Jude said.
“She’s rich?”
“She’s Robert Bauman’s heir,” Patsy said. “The bastard I wanted nothing to do with.”
“You know, I liked her. A lot,” Jude said. “But I don’t know what the hell she meant when she told me she wanted to invest in me. That sounds like banking, not…” His voice trailed off.
“Oh dear,” Patsy said in a frail, angst-filled voice.
Jude sprang into action. “Let’s get her inside,” he said as he took Patsy’s arm and helped guide her into the library, where they settled her into the big mohair chair.
“Are you sure she said the word ‘invest’?” Patsy asked.
“Yes. I am sure, because to be honest, I wanted more from her than that.”
Just like that the lightbulb flicked on in Ashley’s brain. She knew exactly who might be able to untangle this situation. “Wait right there,” she said to both of them.
“I have no plans to move,” Patsy said in her drama-queen voice as she laid her head back against the chair.
Ashley turned and dashed through the door and across Lilac Lane to the vicarage. It was midmorning on a Friday, and she hoped Reverend St. Pierre was in his office working on Sunday’s sermon. And hopefully this week’s sermon wouldn’t cause as many problems as last week’s.
She knocked on the door and waited. And waited.
She was about to leave when the door opened, and there he was, dressed like a proper preacher for once in a black shirt and a Roman collar. He gave her a smile that did something untoward to her middle. “Ashley, what can I do for you?”
“Not me. You said the other day that you were used to being a chaplain, ministering to people in crisis? Well, I’ve got two people across the street who are definitely in crisis, and one of them is your little brother.”
“What? Is Colton in trouble?”
“Not Colton. Jude. He wants to know why the woman he’s fallen in love with thinks he’s an investment and not something bigger than that.” She folded her arms across her chest and tried to give him one of Jackie’s pretend x-ray stares. He, like Superman, was impervious.
But at least he sprang into action, following her back across the street and into the library. Where he got up in Jude’s face and tried to explain last week’s sermon, which Jude hadn’t heard until this moment.
And after that, he turned toward Patsy and said, “Last week’s sermon was all about taking a chance on a broken heart and investing in love. I think this week’s sermon is going to be about kindness.” He got down on one knee and looked right into Patsy’s eyes. “Tell me the truth. Wouldn’t you love to have a granddaughter who would go to Piece Maker meetings with you every week, who would help out when there was a need, who would undertake kind gestures without being asked, and who would love you? Does she have to have the right DNA for that to happen? I guarantee you, if you open your heart you’ll discover that Jude isn’t the only one who’s fallen in love with Jenna these last few weeks. I think maybe you have too.”
He stood up and came face-to-face with his brother. “You did fall in love with her, didn’t you?”
Jude looked away, avoiding eye contact.
“Okay, so I get it. You’re scared about being like Daddy. But you are nothing like him, Jude. And Jenna is nothing like Momma. Momma was a party girl who led Daddy down a treacherous path. All Jenna wants to do is invest in you.”
“Yeah. That’s not enough. And that’s not what you were saying in your sermon anyway.”
“No? Be honest with me. She’s the one who convinced you to go see Junior and start this whole discussion about a nonprofit, isn’t she? And if you stopped to think for a minute, she’d probably be one of those rich folks we were all talking about last night who’d be willing to contribute to the cause. Or do we want to exclude her money for some reason?”
“Um.” Jude blew out a long breath. “She paid to have Reel Therapy salvaged. And that pissed me off for some reason. Like she was saying I couldn’t afford it.”
“Well, that was true. You used your share in Old Granny’s place as collateral for the loan to pay for it, right?”
“I guess. But I’m capable of running Barrier Island Charters. And—”
“I know. We’re here to encourage you. Jenna especially. When someone gives you encouragement, it’s a blessing and a gift.”
His gaze snapped back toward his brother. “I guess.”
Micah shook his head. “You know, I talked with her the day she gave me the check for Ashley’s roof. She said something interesting you both should hear.”
“What?” Jude asked.
“She said that she admired Ashley because she’d taken the risk of working for herself instead of relying on the security of a steady job. I got the feeling that Jenna is a little in awe of both of you because you have firsthand experience in running a business, and all she has is a pile of money she inherited from a man she doesn’t know. A pile of money that she’s worried about, not because she fears losing it, but because she is compelled by her beliefs to find some way to use it for good. It’s a requirement of her religion.
“So I want you both to think about the fact that maybe she came here because she needs to invest in people. Maybe that’s why God handed her all that money and sent her here.” Micah turned around and gazed at Ashley out of his deep brown eyes.
Once again something stirred inside her. Something she didn’t want.
“What Jenna did wasn’t charity, Ashley,” Micah said. “It truly was an investment, but the kind where she’s not looking for a monetary return. It’s a deep thing with her, a part of her belief system. She does something kind for you, and you are able to pass it on to someone else. Somewhere, sometime. And that gives her good karma. When you turn your back on an investmen
t like that, it makes her feel as if she’s made the world a darker place. And for Jenna, that’s a disaster.”
“But why me?”
“Because you needed help, and she admires you. It’s as simple as that. And it’s not a sin to need help, Ashley. We all need help. And the Lord provides. In this case, the Lord sent you Jenna Fossey. I’m certain of that.”
He turned back toward his brother. “Are you going to chase after her, or what?”
“Um…” Jude continued to study his shoes.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, when Momma left, didn’t you want Daddy to chase after her?”
“Yeah.”
“And weren’t you furious when he didn’t?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. So? You don’t want to be like Daddy, do you?”
Jude looked up into his brother’s eyes. “No, sir,” he said.
“All right, you get in your truck and you follow her.”
“I don’t know where she went.”
“She’s probably driving to Charleston to get a plane back to Boston or New York,” Patsy said. “I’m sorry, Jude. I think this is all my fault. And I feel so bad about it. She didn’t know. She was trying her best. She came to us because she wanted a connection, and we…” Her voice hollowed out and tears cascaded over her cheeks. In that moment, Patsy truly looked her age.
“Don’t worry,” Ashley said, giving her friend a quick hug. “Jude will bring her back. Won’t you?” She looked up at Jude.
“There you go,” Micah said, giving his brother a little man-hug. “It’s not just you with a stake in this. I think all of Magnolia Harbor is rooting for you to go get that woman and bring her home where she belongs.”
Her gas gauge was reading almost empty, and her bladder was reading almost full. She hadn’t made much progress, less than forty miles, and it had taken her the better part of an hour and a half because of an accident on Route 17 that was all but cleaned up by the time she passed the spot.
It was confirmation of something that, even out here in middle-of-nowhere South Carolina, there could be traffic jams.
She pulled off the highway and into a Citgo station with a mini-mart in McClellanville, which didn’t look like it was much of a place.
She filled up and used the restroom and then pulled to one side of the parking lot to check flight times and availabilities to New York. She’d decided to have a conversation with Milo because there wasn’t any other place to go.
The thought left her hollowed out. She’d definitely left in a huff, and now that an hour and a half had passed, she was no longer running on sheer emotion.
And there was no need to rush to Charleston if she couldn’t get a flight anytime soon. She took the phone out of airplane mode and was mildly surprised to discover she had several bars of service, even out here in the boonies.
And then the phone went into text alert mode, beeping at her as one text message after another came rolling in, along with at least a dozen voice mails.
She checked. All but one of them were from Jude.
She sat in her car, the sounds of the highway coming through her open window like white noise or static in her head as she read one message after another, all with a similar terse message:
Don’t go.
Come back.
Patsy regrets what she said.
Call me.
Please.
And then her phone beeped again and a message came in from Milo:
Jenna, would you be so kind as to get in touch at your earliest convenience? I have some information about your father.
Good old Milo, he even texted in British English. And this particular text was time stamped forty minutes ago—not long after they’d ended their phone conversation.
She blew out a long breath. Did she want to talk to Milo now? She’d decided to go back to New York. They could chat then. On the other hand, hadn’t she asked him for information about her father?
Back when she’d thought her father was Jamie Bauman. Good grief, was she about to go on another journey of discovery? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“Much,” she muttered out loud.
She took a few deep breaths and felt a little calmer before she punched the call button and Milo’s voice came over the line. “I’m so glad you returned my call,” Milo said. “Not ten minutes after we concluded our conversation, my associate came into my office with some information that’s relevant.”
“Relevant to what?”
“To the question of your parentage. I have in my hand a report from the man who used to be your grandfather’s head of security. It’s dated nineteen months ago, shortly after Aviation Engineering had a meeting at iWear’s corporate headquarters about the possibility of a joint venture in the area of advanced automotive optics. I believe you are familiar with this meeting because you were there and were briefly introduced to Robert.”
A shiver worked down her back. “I was. He stopped in for about a minute and a half. Just long enough to shake some hands. He hadn’t been expected.”
“No. He hadn’t been. But he’d seen you walking in with the group. And the moment he saw you, he wanted to meet you.”
“Ew. That’s disgusting. You—”
“Robert was not that kind of man, Jenna. He wanted to meet you because he thought you looked like his son. So much so that he insisted on interrupting that meeting. And when he heard your last name, he knew. He detailed his security team to secure a sample of your DNA, which they did by going through your trash. A DNA analysis was done a year before Robert died. You are most definitely Robert Bauman’s granddaughter.”
“They went through my trash?”
“Robert was a bulldog when he wanted something. And he wanted you, my dear. As his heir.”
“But I don’t understand. If he wanted me as his heir, why wasn’t he interested in me before he died?”
“Well, he died suddenly, before he had a chance to get to know you. And, by the way, his prior will provided for his money to go to the foundation. Patsy and Harry were never going to get any of it. Robert and Harry had irreconcilable differences.”
“I’m not talking about after he went through my trash and violated my privacy. I’m talking about when I was a little kid. Why wasn’t he interested then?”
Milo said nothing for a very long time, and since Milo excelled at the pregnant pause, Jenna braced herself. “Well, I don’t think he knew about you.”
“What?”
“I don’t think your mother ever told him about you.”
“Patsy said that they found out about me when I was a baby, and Mom told them I wasn’t Jamie’s child. Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know. But I have a guess.”
“Okay. Guess, then.”
“I think she must have known that they both blamed her for Jamie’s death. She must have lived in fear that a rich man like Robert Bauman could swoop in and take you away forever. I’m guessing that’s why she lied to Harry and Patsy. And I have no record of any meeting between Robert and your mother, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there had been one.
“In fact, I think it’s curious that your mother moved to Connecticut before you were born. You spent your first four years there before she returned to Boston. I think she was hiding you.”
The traffic on Route 17 was a bitch. There’d been an accident just north of the bridge across the Santee River that backed things up for miles. Jude didn’t know whether the backup was a gift or a curse.
Once the traffic cleared, he drove like a madman, bobbing and weaving through traffic until he spotted a nondescript Hyundai parked right under the sign at the Citgo station this side of McClellanville. There were probably a million steel-gray Hyundais out there, but when the wind lifted a few strands of Jenna’s honey-colored hair through the open driver’s window, he knew he’d found her.
It was almost as if the wind wanted him to find her.
Lucky. Lucky. He pulled alongside the rental, but she
barely noticed. She was looking down. Reading his texts or ignoring them? His heart lurched in his chest.
Suddenly the fire that Micah had lit under him faltered. Okay, so he’d come after Jenna. What happened if he couldn’t convince her to come back?
Damn.
He hopped down from the truck and circled around it. He approached Jenna’s open window from the back of her car like a traffic cop. She was still looking down when he leaned into the window. “Hey,” he said.
She started and looked up. And Jude lost himself in those wide-spaced, big brown eyes with their red, puffy lids. It looked like she’d done a whole mess of crying. Not just the abbreviated jag in the rose garden but maybe all the way down the road.
And then it occurred to him that she didn’t resemble a woman who was happy to be running away. And now that he thought about it, on the day Momma left, she’d been happier than a jay on a spring day. He remembered the way she stared down Daddy and told him she was looking forward to her independence.
“You need to come back,” he said.
She blinked. “Why?”
“Because I need you to invest in the nonprofit my family is creating to save the seagrass.”
“That’s it? You just want my investment?” The corner of her mouth twitched when she said this, and he heard his own words come out of her mouth.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t understand what you meant. And here’s the thing. I don’t know where you were last night, but I came by the cottage. I was on fire, Jenna, just so excited to tell you that I’d spent a couple of hours talking to a Gullah lawyer I know who’s ready to help us with all the legal work needed to start a nonprofit to save the seagrass. And I never would have done that without you. I took you to meet my aunts as a way to discourage you, and instead you turned it all around and ended up giving me a life-saving idea. And I guess my pride got in the way when I found out that you’d paid for Reel Therapy’s salvage. You didn’t have to do that, you know?”
