* * *
The real Thornton Hughes walked across the deck to greet them. A spitting image of her grandfather, it was utterly uncanny, Rain thought, as she took in the sight of her uncle for the first time. He was tall like Luis. Same bulbous nose, same kind eyes, same wild hair, though devoid of the white strands she remembered in her grandfather’s mane.
Thornton greeted his aunt first. “It’s lovely to meet you,” he said extending a hand to her. Marge’s eyes misted as she took in the sight of him. “It’s lovely to meet you, too, dear. I see my Maggie in you.” She smiled weakly before extending her hand to have Rain join in closer to them.
“Hi, I’m Rain,” she said. “It’s a real pleasure to have this opportunity. Thank you for coming. I can’t imagine what the last few weeks have been like for you.” She still couldn’t believe the real Thornton, her grandfather’s child, was standing right in front of them.
“Actually, I’m the one who’s sorry for what you had to go through on my behalf and what has brought us here today. However, I must admit, it’s been a lifetime of wondering and questioning for me to locate my bloodline. I never felt I should, as I was loyal to my adoptive parents’ wishes. They’d been so very good to me. I was told early on that my biological father searched to find my mother to learn the truth, as he never really believed that she’d died while giving birth. When my father found out about me, he was filled with shame and remorse. My adoptive parents encouraged me not to contact him, because they told me that he’d never told his current wife about his past … or me, for that matter … I also learned my biological grandfather strongly disapproved of my parents’ relationship and if we reconnected it just would bring more harm than good … but I’m happy to finally hear the other side of the story regarding my birth. So, thank you,” Thornton said with obvious deep gratitude. “I’m hoping you’ll be able to fill in a few gaps.”
When Thornton smiled it was like looking directly into the eyes of her grandfather, Luis. She was saddened that her grandfather had felt so much shame that he’d hidden the birth certificate from everyone in his family and selfishly held his own grief. Rain plucked the book from beneath her arm and handed it to him. Her eyes filled as she handed him the copy of Always You. “A story about your biological parents. I think you should have this. I’m sure it’ll fill in a few of those gaps you were referring to.” She presented the novel as if she was handing over something sacred. And she was, the story of his biological parents—their true love story. “Your father wrote this, he’s the author.”
“Thank you,” he said, and his eyes danced with elation just as her grandfather Luis’s had. The mannerisms so similar, it instantly transported Rain back to her youth. It was like looking back in time.
Rain couldn’t help but smile inwardly with pride. She wondered if it reflected on her face, too.
Rex came and jumped on Thornton’s leg excitedly. As if he was reconnecting with an old master.
“Rex! Rexy! Stop that!” Marge scolded. The older woman then turned to her nephew and said, “I’m so sorry for my dog’s behavior.”
“It’s all right,” Thornton said calmly as he knelt graciously to pet the pup.
“He gets a little overexcited sometimes, I think he just needs a run out on the grass.” Marge said apologetically.
“Shall we?” Thornton said, tapping his leg and leading the dog down the deck stairs and onto the grass. Marge followed, but Rain stayed behind to give them a moment alone to converse, and to get to know each other.
Rain leaned her arms atop the deck railing and watched from a distance as Thornton and Marge reconnected. The waves curled onto shore rhythmically, like breaths of time, breathing in and out—in and out.
Rain realized then that she’d finally honored her grandfather’s writing, as she watched the two bridge the gap of lost years between them. Marge’s introduction to her sister Maggie’s son, and a man seeking the truth of his ancestry. She couldn’t erase the shame of her great- grandfather, Lorenzo, for keeping them apart this long, but somehow, finding the truth, and uncovering the real story, made it all better somehow.
As she looked around and felt her heritage wrap around her like a giant hug, it was if she’d never left the Northwoods, never been with Max, and felt as if she was now living, a different chapter, in a completely different novel.
Rain realized, after carrying the torch, that she was now the writer of her own unwritten story. Sometimes within a storyline the details could easily be overlooked, or exaggerated, or are nowhere near the truth. She still had the chance to change the narrative of her story and move forward. And many blank pages begged to be written as she looked over her shoulder and noticed Jace sending her a wide, satisfied grin. And Julia wiping a tear from her eye as she, too, watched everything unfold.
One thing Rain felt, deep within her gut, and she was sure of it … she had found home.
Recipes
Rain’s Pesto Chicken Marinade for the perfect summer barbeque
4–6 chicken breast fillets, pounded thin
1 cup loosely packed Fresh basil (Rain suggests if you have access to a local farmers market, that’s a great place to find some!)
1 tbsp chopped fresh oregano (ditto on the farmers market!)
4 garlic cloves
½ cup parmesan cheese
¼ cup lemon juice
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
¼ cup olive oil
*skip the pine nuts (can’t find them at the local market in the Northwoods of WI anyway)
Fresh pasta noodles or serve with roasted vegetables on the grill
Directions:
Pound the chicken with a mallet within ½ inch thickness (then set aside)
Place the basil, chopped oregano, garlic, parmesan, lemon juice, and Dijon in the food processor, and process until combined.
Gradually add the olive oil, with the processer running, until smooth.
Reserve ½ cup pesto
Coat the chicken fillets with the remaining pesto and marinate at least an hour or overnight if time permits. (If marinating overnight, be sure the chicken is in a sealed tight container—freezer bag or plastic wrap—so that basil doesn’t turn brown.)
Place chicken on a disposable pan and cook under a medium grill for 5 minutes on each side or until cooked through, brushing with any remaining marinade during the cooking process.* Can throw on the grates at the end to sear lines.
Serve over buttered noodles with remaining pesto or with roasted root vegetables or roasted Yukon gold potatoes.
Also available by Holly Danvers
(Writing as Holly Quinn)
Handcrafted Mysteries
A Crafter Quilts a Crime
A Crafter Hooks a Killer
A Crafter Knits a Clue
Author Biography
Holly Davers grew up devouring every mystery novel on the shelf of her local library. She lives in the Midwest with her husband and 3 chickens, where she’s already plotting her next novel.
This is a work of fiction. All of the names, characters, organizations, places and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real or actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reaction to the recipes contained in this book.
Copyright © 2021 by Sherry Rummler
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Crooked Lane Books, an imprint of The Quick Brown Fox & Company LLC.
Crooked Lane Books and its logo are trademarks of The Quick Brown Fox & Company LLC.
Library of Congress Catalog-in-Publication data available upon request.
ISBN (hardcover): 978-1-64385-632-2
ISBN (ebook)
: 978-1-64385-633-9
Cover illustration by Jesse Reisch
Printed in the United States.
www.crookedlanebooks.com
Crooked Lane Books
34 West 27th St., 10th Floor
New York, NY 10001
First Edition: July 2021
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Murder at the Lakeside Library Page 25
