Before I realized, Emily snatched the envelope from my hands. “If you don’t read this right now, I will. I swear I will open it and read it out loud so you will have to know what your mother’s last wishes were. If you never know, then you will never be able to move on, and I can’t deal with crazy Claire. I need you sane and focused.”
I reached up and snatched it back, intending to zip it up in my purse, but the look on Emily’s face made me change my mind.
“Okay, I’ll read it. But I can’t do it by myself. Will you sit with me, Em?”
She slouched down across from me and touched my hand. “You know I’m here for you, Claire.”
She watched as I unfolded the letter, still unable to force myself to look at the writing on the page. I fumbled with the envelope, reading my name over and over, letting my eyes roll over each letter; Claire Isabelle Mayfield.
“Claire. Are you alright? Do you want my help?”
I lifted my head so our eyes met. I could barely see her through the tears that threatened to spill over. If I was already this emotional, how would I possibly get through the reading of the letter? I relinquished the pages to Emily and nodded my consent for her to begin reading its contents.
Emily cleared her throat and began to read.
My Dearest Daughter Claire,
I’m sure that if you are reading this after I’m gone that you have a lot of questions. I can’t promise to answer all of them, but I promise an explanation of the inheritance you have been informed of by this time. I know the lawyers will explain the technical details, but I will explain the emotional side.
I had hoped I could be brave enough to tell you about all of this years ago, but the more time that passed, the more afraid I became of your reaction. I’m sure you’re angry now as you read this, but it was never my intention to hurt you, but to spare you hurt by keeping the knowledge of the inheritance from you.
I’m sure you’re wondering why we didn’t live like royalty in the Blackwell Manor, but I had to hide it all from your father, who would have stripped us of every penny, and I would have nothing to leave you now. Please understand, I had to keep it a secret in order to keep him from stealing it.
Another part of me wanted no part of the money or the estate since my true identity had been kept from me until I was 18 years old. I felt like such a prisoner all those years in the orphanage, being kept by the ones who could no longer take care of me…well, I don’t expect you to understand that part, but you know what a free spirit I am.
When I met your father, I thought I would finally have someone to share the inheritance with, but I was wrong. He knew about it before he married me, and only married me to get his hands on it. When I denied the rumors and convinced him they were nothing more than rumors, he left. After he left, I found that I was pregnant with you. I met Frank and Ida, and the rest is history.
I want you to enjoy what I couldn’t. I want you to accept this inheritance as your own and not mine. I only ever wanted it for you. It was never really mine because I couldn’t accept it, but I need for you to accept it and enjoy it because I never could. I hope your first thought is not to sell it, but to live in it and someday raise a family in it. From what I hear, the manor is well overdue for the laughter of children.
Love,
Mom
Emily looked up at me to check my reaction. We both grabbed for napkins to wipe our tears. Neither of us said a word about the letter. Instead, we joined the party being thrown in my mother’s honor.
Luckily, Emily got the hint without much explanation, so I was now on my way to Wellington with Ben. Nervousness mixed with anticipation over seeing what my mother had sacrificed for me. At the same time, I couldn’t help but feel the same mix of emotions toward my road-trip buddy. He wore jeans and a blue dress shirt, left un-tucked from his pants. His shirt matched his blue eyes. His brown hair seemed to have a little more gel than it had a few days before, and I could smell just the right amount of cologne as I sat across from him in his white Mercedes. He was quiet for most of the trip, commenting occasionally about a particular landmark here and there. I nodded as he talked, but for the most part, I looked out the window at the landscape of rolling hills and rows of maple and oak trees that had already begun to change color.
“Do you have any questions before we get there? If you feel like talking about it, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”
He was trying to pull emotions from me that I wasn’t ready to feel, but I had to admit, he did seem like a person who was easy to talk to, and I had a million questions.
“I suppose I am kind of curious to find out how run down the property is. How long has it been unoccupied? Since just after my mother was born? That’s a lot of years to sit and decay.”
“The property itself is actually well preserved. Both homes are brick, and the orphanage is stone, though you can’t get to the orphanage from the grounds of the manor or the cottage. You have to take the service road to get to it. When my father’s firm took over the property twenty-six years ago, they contracted a groundskeeper to maintain the entire property. It isn’t perfectly landscaped, but it isn’t too overgrown either, so I’m told. My father told me the porch and the scrollwork around the roof peaks could use a fresh coat of paint, and a few of the slate roof tiles have come loose. But for the most part, it looks very nice for its age.”
I didn’t need that much information. I’d hate to hear what his answer would be if I had a real question.
I remained quiet, only nodding as he continued to explain the layout of the property that even he hadn’t seen yet. I couldn’t really picture it in my head. I supposed it was one of those things where you had to be there to understand it fully.
CHAPTER THREE
Ben pulled his Mercedes into a gas station off the main road, apologizing for not checking his gauge before we left his father’s office. I didn’t mind stopping. I needed a bottled water, and an excuse to stall just a little longer. Part of me was eager to see the estate, but most of me dreaded the thought of seeing it for the first time without my mother by my side.
Once we were back on the road, I tried to relax, but I felt tense knowing we were very close to our destination. I clenched the armrest as the property came into view in the distant horizon. Ben took his hand off of the wheel and placed it on my hand that clenched the armrest and gave it a squeeze.
“Are you alright?”
I stole a glance at him. “Just drive a little slower. I’m not eager to get there in such a hurry.”
Ben slowed his speed, but his hand remained on mine. It was strangely comforting to hold his hand as we drove nearer to the mysterious estate my mother intended for me to call home. As we approached the property, my stomach tightened as well as my grip on Ben’s hand. He pulled over to the side of the road near a wooded area that temporarily blocked the manor from my view.
I looked over at Ben nervously. “Why did you stop?”
As he looked into my eyes, I felt a strong urge to lean in and kiss him, and for a moment, it seemed he had the same idea in his eyes.
“I think you need a minute to prepare yourself, and I need a minute for the feeling to come back in my hand.”
He smiled at me as he pulled his hand away and began to spread his fingers out, massaging the palm with his other hand.
I put a hand over my mouth to cover my smile. “I’m sorry. Was I squeezing a little too hard?”
He relaxed his hand. “Just a little bit. I don’t mind holding your hand, but it won’t do you much good if you continue to cut off my circulation.”
He took my hand gently and patted it with his other hand. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”
I looked into his blue eyes, wishing I’d been able to meet him under different circumstances. He was sensitive, kind, smart, good looking, he smelled heavenly, and I really wanted to kiss him.
“I suppose I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s go see the pot of gold at the end
of this rainbow.”
Ben smirked, and I started laughing at the stupid comment I’d made. It was the first time I’d laughed since my mother’s passing. It felt good, despite the fact I was laughing at myself.
As Ben steered the car onto a narrow lane, I looked out at the canopy of trees that bordered the road. Ahead, I could see a tall iron gate that enclosed the property. Ben pulled up to a call box and pushed the button. Modern camera equipment swiveled on the top post of the call box as though surveying our every move.
“What’s with the camera?”
Ben shrugged. “I would guess the state had it installed to prevent security problems.”
A woman’s voice came over the intercom asking for identification, and Ben held up an ID badge from the State Attorney’s Office with his face on it.
The gate slowly opened, and we proceeded down the long, tree-covered lane that led to the orphanage. A two-story building the size of a large school stood before us, ivy climbing the limestone walls and framing the many windows. Ben parked the car in the circle drive in front of the steps that led into the building, then, looked over at me with an unsure look.
I let out a heavy sigh. “Let’s do this.”
He waited for me to open the car door as though he expected me to chicken out, and I half wondered if my legs would hold out as I climbed the stone steps of the building. Now at the door, it was too late to turn back. Another call button created another delay, but we were finally buzzed in.
Once inside, we were greeted quietly by two nuns in full dress, their heads adorned with the traditional habit. We followed them into a reception area where we were asked to sign in.
I tugged on Ben’s sleeve forcing him to lean down so I could whisper in his ear. “Don’t they know who I am?”
“I’m sure they do. I called them yesterday to announce your arrival today,” he whispered back. “Just follow along. I’m sure it’s just a formality to keep track of who visits the facility.”
I shrugged it off and signed my name. The nun who’d introduced herself as Sister Mary Ellen took the clipboard and set it aside without even looking at the names we signed, then, waved a hand for us to follow her down the hall and up a set of stairs. I guessed she was giving us a tour of the orphanage, so I followed closely behind Ben.
Sister Mary Ellen led us into a room filled with steel cribs where three babies slept quietly. “This is where we keep them until they reach between two and three years old,” she whispered. “Feel free to look around, while I check on the older children. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Without another word, she left Ben and me in the large room alone with three sleeping babies. I stepped nearer to Ben so we could talk without disturbing the children, when one of them began to stir. I looked at him with a look of desperation, but he motioned his hands for me to check on the child. My eyes widened with fear. I’d never spent enough time around any children to know what to do with them. Even Isabelle had never been left in my care, and I’d only held her a few times while Emily stood by.
I shuffled my feet a little closer to the crib where a little girl who looked a little younger than Isabelle looked up at me with watery blue eyes. Her cheeks were round, and her dark blond hair blended with a hint of red in the folds of curls that framed her face. I stood there, frozen in the child’s stare. I didn’t dare look away for fear she would begin to cry. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Ben walking toward me and I motioned with my hand for him to stop, unable to take my eyes off the little girl. Something in her eyes kept me locked in her gaze as she stared at me with an innocent trust I didn’t dare break by leaving her side.
Sister Mary Ellen broke the spell of the child’s enchantment as she burst into the room, toddling after a slightly older child who taunted her. As the little girl looked in the direction of the commotion, I took the opportunity to take a step back from the crib, which startled her. I watched as she pulled herself up by the crib rails, then, held her arms outstretched toward me. Once again, my eyes locked with hers, but I didn’t step into her reaching arms. Her face began to twist with despair and tears filled her eyes.
“Momma,” she called to me with outstretched arms, her eyes boring into my soul.
Sister Mary Ellen walked up to the crib and stood beside me.
“Normally we let potential parents chose a child, but this little one seems to have chosen you.”
I nearly choked with fear. “No. I’m not here to…”
“Feel free to pick her up,” she interrupted me. “I’ll give you a few more minutes to get to know one another while I take this one to the playroom.”
She grabbed the hand of the wayward little boy and disappeared from the room before I could say another word.
I looked at Ben with desperation in my eyes, then, back at the waiting child. The child with trust in her eyes for me. The child who’d mistaken me for her momma.
Before I realized, Ben stood behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“The child obviously wants you to pick her up. What harm can it do?”
“It could do a lot of harm. She thinks I’m her momma, and Sister Mary Ellen thinks I’m here to adopt a child.”
The child continued to reach further toward me.
“Momma.”
She cried out to me with an eagerness that scared me into submission. I reached clumsily for the child. I had no clue how to pick up the child without breaking her. I tried to lift her, but she was much heavier than I’d remembered Isabelle being. The crib rails were so high, I struggled to lift her from the crib, but Ben assisted me.
He motioned me to a rocking chair. “It might be easier if you sit with her.”
I sat in the chair. That was definitely easier than standing awkwardly, worrying I might drop her.
“I’ve never really held a baby before,” I confessed.
Ben nodded knowingly. He sat across from me using body language to instruct me, allowing me to mimic his cradling pose. I cradled the little girl and she cuddled her head on my shoulder. I had to admit, it was almost comforting to hold her, and a part of me liked it. I rocked the chair gently, fearing if I stopped she may begin to cry again.
Sister Mary Ellen walked back into the room. “Has your husband had a chance to hold her?”
Ben and I looked at each other bewildered.
“He’s not my husband. “
The nun looked back and forth between us. “How soon is your wedding?”
Ben smiled at me, then, turned to Sister Mary Ellen. “I haven’t proposed yet.”
My eyes widened as I watched Ben, who seemed to be enjoying the mix up.
“Well I suppose we could begin the adoption process if you had a date in mind.”
My face heated as Ben flashed me a boyish grin. He seemed to be enjoying the nun’s mistake a little too much.
“Sister Mary Ellen, this man is my lawyer, not my husband or my fiancé. Well, actually his father is my lawyer, and I’m not here to adopt a child. I merely wanted to tour the facility.”
She eyed the little girl I was still cradling in my arms with a nervousness I couldn’t blame her for.
I stood abruptly, still holding the child. “I’m Claire Mayfield, and I own this place.”
I was shocked by the sound of my own words, but they’d already left my tongue, and it was too late to take them back. Ben looked at me with a curiosity that showed even he didn’t understand my outburst.
Sister Mary Ellen straightened. “Please pardon the misunderstanding Miss Mayfield. I was expecting a young couple to apply for adoption this afternoon. I was not aware you would be coming today.”
I fumbled an apology as I tried to relinquish the little girl into the nun’s waiting arms. She clung to me, crying out to her momma. Sister Mary Ellen gave in to the child, allowing her to remain in my arms as she soothingly patted her back to calm her down.
“This is the first time Sophia has spoken in the three months since her arrival…”
At t
he mention of her name, the blood drained from my face, and my knees felt weak. I knew I’d better sit back down with the child before I actually did drop her. I tried to listen to the nun rattle on about Sophia’s parents being killed in an automobile accident, and something about the state placing her in the orphanage because no relatives came forward to claim her.
Once I was safely back in the chair, I ignored Ben and Sister Mary Ellen as I rocked the child to calm her. I said her name out loud as I smoothed her hair and cuddled her close to me. She had called me Momma, and as frightened as I was by the very thought of such a thing, little Sophia was the exact age my own daughter would be if I’d ever had one. I was tempted to choose this little girl just as much as she had chosen me, but reality still stung. I had no husband, and wasn’t even dating anyone, so how could I possibly consider that I could give this frail little soul a proper home?
When Sophia fell back asleep, I looked to Sister Mary Ellen to help me place her carefully back into her crib. Once we were out of the room, the nun spoke very boldly to me.
“Can I burden you to return to visit with Sophia? She hasn’t opened up to anyone of us here, and I am afraid that if she stays in her shell she will never have the opportunity for adoption.”
Ben nodded to me as though he thought it was a good idea.
“Do you mean as a volunteer?”
“I suppose that would be one way of looking at it, but I’d like you to come here to spend time just with Sophia. Perhaps your presence will get her to open up a little more and feel more comfortable with strangers. She has exhausted herself with a lot of crying since she’s been here, and she doesn’t sleep well. The doctor says she’s in perfect health, but she hasn’t worked through the shock of losing her parents. Since she opened up to you, I’d hate for her to revert back and become an unhappy child.”
The Apothecary's Daughter (Romance/Mystery/Suspense) Page 4
