Addison stood at the base of the attic stairs. Why not let the ghosts of her past remain inside a box? The lure of what secrets might lie inside led her one step at a time until she stood at the door and opened it.
She switched on the light and glanced around the chilled and musty interior at memories that belonged to many of the children who had called Hope Ranch home. A rocking horse, a guitar missing its strings, a doll with one eye, a birdcage, a dress form, an antique desk, a cedar chest, and shelves laden with jars filled with buttons of every size and color, books, magazines, and Nell’s rocking chair with a reading lamp next to it. Her place of escape, she used to call it. Addison brushed aside a cobweb.
She let her eyes rove around the room. Searching among the shelves, she discovered a wooden box with her name painted in red letters. Almost with reverence she carried her prize to the rocking chair. Memories, so many memories, flooded over her as she lifted the lid. On top were pictures of her and Ruby Raye, two scrawny little girls holding hands, several of herself on one of the draft horses, and one of her sitting next to a Christmas tree holding an unopened gift. Addison sifted through the photos and laid them aside. A certificate for winning the fifth grade spelling bee, along with a couple of blue ribbons, brought back forgotten memories. She opened a small sketch pad, amazed at the layout of the ranch and an almost perfect rendering of the house, created by a young Addison, and pages filled with dress designs. She sat back in the rocker and closed her eyes, wondering what had become of that young girl’s talent. Carefully laying the mementoes aside, Addison lifted out a manila folder. She undid the clasp and emptied the contents onto her lap—newspaper articles yellowed with age. Reading each report with care left her disappointed. None revealed a clue as to who had left her at the bus station or why. There was even an old police report that stated her name as Baby Anonymous. It was dated December 25. She was no closer to discovering her true identity than she was years ago.
The eagerness that had warmed her had worn off and left her chilled. Suddenly weary, she thought about the twins downstairs who fretted about whether or not their mother would want them, and the big black dog that slept between them as if he were the children’s guardian angel.
She determined that if she ever had a child she would never give it up, no matter the reason. A bit dispirited, she carefully laid the contents back inside the box and replaced the lid. She rose from the rocker and returned the box to the shelf.
By the time she left the attic and had gone to the bathroom to remove her makeup and apply moisturizer to her face, she felt so emotionally tired that she barely had enough energy to change out of her clothes and into her pajamas and crawl into bed. Her body tightened into a ball between the cold sheets. As she lay there, waiting for the bed to warm and her body to relax, she tried to take the same advice she’d given the twins—think happy thoughts so she’d have sweet dreams.
A soft rap on the door intruded into the quiet. Addison forced herself to keep from screaming, Go away. “Who is it?”
Tears welled in her eyes and her bottom lip trembled when Nell entered the room and quietly sat on the edge of the bed, a cup of steaming cocoa in her hand. Addison reached over and turned on the lamp. She scooted against the headboard. Neither woman spoke.
Addison broke the silence. “A long time ago, I remember you telling Ruby and me that nothing in life ever comes easy.” She set the cup aside and allowed Nell to wrap her in a comforting hug. She heard herself say, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice, “Why is life so damned difficult?”
Nell held both of Addison’s hands. “If I knew the answer I’d tell you.” She met Addison’s eyes, seeming to feel her pain as well. “A while back I saw a commercial on the television advertising one of those DNA kits to test your ancestry. If you think it’d put your mind to rest about who you are, I’ll gladly pay for it.”
Silence filled the room again.
Nell inhaled deeply. “I’m just an ol’ fool. What do I know?”
Addison wiped at a tear that threatened to fall. “Don’t put yourself down, Aunt Nell. You’re a wise and wonderful woman. In many ways, I know who I am and what I’ve become, and how hard I’ve worked to get to this point in my life. It’s not so much that I want to know the name of the woman who gave birth to me, or the man who was my sperm donor, but the why… If she didn’t want me, why didn’t she give me up for adoption instead of abandoning me in a bus station? Why didn’t she at least pin a note on my dress with my real name and age?”
She swiped the tears. “I can tell you one thing. If I ever have a child, he or she will always know who they are and that they are loved without measure.” Her heart pounded with a mixture of emotions. “Aunt Nell, I appreciate your generous offer. I’ve also considered getting a DNA test. Part of me is afraid of what I’ll learn about my biological parents and another part of me says what’s done is done. Remember when you used to tell me to let sleeping dogs lie? Maybe someday I’ll do the test that will specifically determine my biological parents.”
“There’s no rush. You’ll know when the time is right and, good or bad, whatever the results, I’ll be right here to support you.”
In a choked voice, she managed to say, “Aunt Nell, you are my real mother and the only one that counts.”
She brought Nell’s arthritic hands to her lips and kissed them. Nell’s voice hitched. “My dear sweet, Addy, you have filled my heart to the point of overflowing.” She kissed the top of Addison’s head and bid her sweet dreams.
Addison turned out the light and slid deep beneath the quilt. A heady sense of freedom filled her. She had gained a true sense of belonging.
Chapter Twenty
A week before the Christmas festival, a young soldier disembarked from a Boise State transit bus at the Meadow Creek bus station. Inside the ticket office she asked directions to the sheriff’s office. Outside, the sun moved across the sky, doing little to warm the temperature or boost the soldier’s confidence.
She was a bit embarrassed and at the same time honored, while striding along the sidewalk through the town, that people stopped and thanked her for her service. Four blocks later, she marched up the steps to the sheriff’s office. In a moment’s hesitation, she turned as if changing her mind about entering. She hated to admit how panicked and unprepared she felt for meeting the twins she’d birthed but didn’t know.
Heaving a sigh and mustering her courage, she pushed open the double doors and walked into the office’s warm interior.
Millie looked up from her book. “Can I help you?”
The young soldier said, “I’m Private J.J. Wallace, to see Sheriff Wade Grey. The Red Cross said he has information about my children.”
“Oh, my lord, you’re her! I mean, we’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” Millie offered a contrite smile. “I’m rambling, aren’t I? Sheriff Grey is on a call. I’ll let him know you’re here. Would you like some coffee while you wait?”
“How long?”
“How long, what…oh, sure, ten or fifteen minutes at the most.” Millie pointed to the coffeepot and cups. “Help yourself.” She picked up the shortwave radio mic and contacted Wade.
While they waited, Millie said, “I’m sorry about your grandmother. We were all friends in high school… Nellie Hopewell, Clare, me, and some others, but that was eons ago. Except for Nell, we lost touch with Clare when she moved to Seattle. The children are staying out at the ranch with Nell.”
J.J. squared her shoulders. She had learned to close off her emotions. She was a soldier; who could blame her? “I didn’t know my grandmother was sick. Didn’t know she’d died until I got word from the Red Cross. ” For lack of something else to say, she stowed her rucksack in a corner and walked over to the aquarium. “Nice fish.”
After she removed her jacket and hung it on the coat rack, she took a cup and filled it with coffee. The cup’s warmth felt good to her cold hands.
For want of conversation, Millie said, “You’re just in
time for Meadow Creek’s Mistletoe Market and the Jingle Mingle. Don’t you just love the holidays?”
J.J. cut her gaze back toward the aquarium. “I don’t give much thought to the holidays, ma’am.”
“Yes, well, make yourself comfortable. Sheriff Grey should arrive any minute.”
J.J. was grateful when the woman opened a book. She toyed with the idea of cancelling the rest of her leave and returning to Fort Riley. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them looked straight into Wade’s.
She squared her shoulders and, from force of habit, almost saluted.
****
A corner of Wade’s mouth twitched into a parody of a smile as he observed the woman wearing a man’s-cut blonde hair, her blue eyes void of emotion. “Relax, Private Wallace.” He indicated the chair for her to sit. “We were getting concerned that perhaps the Red Cross hadn’t made contact with your unit. Allow me to express my condolences regarding your grandmother.”
“Thank you, sir. It took a while for me to get stateside. I went to Seattle first to visit my grandmother’s grave, and to settle some of her affairs. I have fifteen days before reporting back to base.”
Wade kept his eyes on her face. He understood her lack of emotion. From the report he’d received, her detail had been deep in terrorist territory. She’d been deployed for more than a year in some of Afghanistan’s most treacherous areas. “Understood. How much time do you have left before your enlistment is up?”
The question seemed to take her by surprise. “Thirty days, sir. I had planned to re-up. Now, I’m not sure.”
“I’ll come straight to the point, Private Wallace. What do you plan to do about your children?”
“That’s the part I’m not sure about, sir.” She cut her glance toward Millie. “May I speak candidly?”
Wade nodded.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again as if collecting her thoughts. “When I was a kid, my old man was a slacker. He couldn’t stay sober enough to hold a job. We moved around. I lost track of how many trailer parks we lived in, how many schools I attended, all the new and different faces—I never got to make any real friends. When he and my mom died, I went looking for love and found it in all the wrong places. I was seventeen and pregnant when my grandmother took me in. I had no job skills and was basically illiterate. When the twins were nine months old, I was slinging hamburgers at a truck stop and hanging out with the wrong crowd. It was only a matter of time before I ended up pregnant again. Gram suggested I join the Army. It’s been the worst and the best five years of my life.”
She rubbed her hands down the legs of her fatigues. “Most of my five years I’ve been deployed.” She pierced him with a frank gaze. “I don’t know my children, and to be honest, I’m scared to death to meet them.”
She swiped a hand under her nose as a couple of tears welled in eyes that held a light of defiance. “I’m a damned good soldier, sir, but I’m not at all certain that I’m mother material.”
Wade stood and walked over to Millie’s desk. “Hand me the letter to Santa.”
Millie opened her desk and removed the envelope. She gave him a questioning look as she handed it to him. He returned to his desk and sat, toying with the red envelope. He leaned forward. “Read this.”
J.J. removed the letter and unfolded it. Her eyes darted back and forth across the page.
When she looked up, she saw the emotions that stormed in Wade’s eyes when he ordered, “Out loud, Private. Read it out loud.”
She cleared her throat, “Dear Santa, all me and my sister want is for our mommy to love us. We promise to be extra good and collect the eggs, even if that old hen pecks us, and we’ll feed the horses, and make our beds. We like living with Aunt Nell. She’s nice, but can you bring our mommy home from the Army?”
Her bottom lip trembled, a sign that she struggled to hold the tears at bay. “What kind of life can I give my kids, huh? If I reenlist, who will take care of them when it’s time for me to redeploy? If I separate from the Army, I’m unemployed and with no place to live.”
She didn’t cry. Soldiers didn’t cry. She raised her chin and spoke with as much dignity as she could muster. “You got an answer for that, Sheriff?”
Wade sighed deeply, as if he resented being cursed with this assignment. “Joey and Julie are temporarily guests of Nell Hopewell at her ranch.”
She swallowed hard and sat up straighter. “So why can’t they continue to stay there? I’ll send money for their support.”
Wade kept his eyes on her face. “Nell Hopewell is seventy-five years old and with a bad heart. Does that answer your question?”
The realization that she was backed into a corner was a slap of surprise. Like a caged animal looking for an escape, J.J. paced back and forth, stopping occasionally to look at the fish and then at Wade. “I apologize, sir, for coming across as a hard-assed bitch. The truth is I don’t know what to do. One thing is for certain—I refuse to give the children false hope.”
An unexpected voice filled with anger said, “I was abandoned by my mother, and even after all these years, I’ve never understood why she didn’t want me. How dare you even entertain the idea of leaving the twins wondering why they weren’t good enough for you to want them.”
Addison stood there, shocking them all with her presence. She continued, “Joey and Julie are bright and precious and already fear you don’t love them. Instead of slinking off like a coward, the least you can do is explain why you’re choosing the Army over them.”
Wade wasn’t certain whether he was glad or frustrated at Addison’s arrival and her outburst.
J.J. rose from the chair, her arms stiff at her sides and fists clenched. “Ma’am, my children and what happens to them are none of your business.”
The expression on Addison’s face and her rigid stance reminded him of a she-grizzly ready to attack anyone who messed with her cubs. He positioned himself between the two women. “Private Wallace, this is Addison James. She’s the owner of Hope Ranch. The children have become quite attached to her.”
A slow smile spread over his face, and he stared at Addison for a long moment. His manhood itched, and he wished he could throttle the sensation. “I see you’ve got the cast off.”
Her voice softened. “About ten minutes ago. I rode in with Emmett. He’s down at the feed store.” She shifted her eyes back to the woman in uniform. “Private Wallace—ˮ
“Please, call me J.J.”
Addison tried to keep her tone light. “J.J., I…we’ve all promised the twins the best Christmas ever. In fact, they are models in this year’s children’s Mistletoe fashion show. Bottom line—there’s a spare bedroom at Hope Ranch. I’m personally requesting you give the children three days of your time. Get to know them, and…and let them believe Santa Claus answered their wish. After Christmas, if you choose the Army, I’ll pay the airfare back to your base.” She extended her hand. “Deal?”
A hush fell over the office. Only the soft whirring of the fish tank’s pump interrupted the silence. For a moment, Wade was certain the young mother would ignore the olive branch Addison was extending, and walk out the door.
J.J. accepted Addison’s hand. “It seems the sensible thing to do.”
A horn beeped. “Grab your belongings, J.J.—Emmett doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The wind chilled J.J.’s cheeks as she followed Addison down the steps and to the red vintage pickup. She tossed her gear into the back of the truck and climbed in next to Addison.
After the introductions were made, J.J. sat in silence, taking in her surroundings. Emmett said, “I was a Marine, myself. Thirty years. So was our sheriff. In fact, he retired just three years ago. He served a lengthy stint in Afghanistan, too.”
She glanced over at the man. He didn’t look like a Marine. He just looked old. He was tanned and lean, and his hair was streaked gray. His jeans were worn and his denim jacket faded blue. The hands that gripped the st
eering wheel were calloused. From years of hard work, she guessed. So unlike her worthless father. “Good to know, sir.”
She squeezed her hands into a ball and fell silent, not encouraging further conversation. She found it difficult that she was actually on her way to meet her children. Gazing out at the countryside, she marveled at the cows and horses that lifted their heads in curiosity to watch the truck pass by. At one point she watched a squirrel shimmy along a wooden fence to leap onto the bough of a tree.
She peered through her sunglasses at the rolling, snow-covered expanse that stretched out before her. This beautiful land. She could easily see herself settling here, if only she had a way to support her children.
An uneasy feeling coursed through her.
Emmett maneuvered the truck up a gentle slope, and then up another hill before turning into a tree-lined driveway that led up to the two-story house, barely making it to the porch before a young boy and a big black dog came racing out to greet them.
J.J.’s heart beat like a wild thing against her chest. It reminded her of her first firefight with a group of terrorists. Except this six-year-old child wasn’t the enemy. It had been a lifetime since she’d seen Joey and his sister, and if circumstances and places had been different she wasn’t sure she’d have recognized him.
She opened the door and climbed down from the truck.
He smiled up at her. They were the bluest eyes she had ever seen. The blood rushed to her head, and her knees threatened to buckle.
Nell and Julie walked out onto the porch. The little girl grabbed blindly at Nell’s sleeve and whispered, “Is that her?”
“My word,” was all Nell said.
Fighting the crippling sensation that had taken over her legs, J.J. stood rooted. Dear God, they are beautiful children.
Nell hugged the sweater closer to her body. “Well, don’t just stand there. Come in out of the cold. Wade called to let us know we’d have a special visitor. Emmett, can you stay for a bit?”
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