EXPECTANT BRIDE-TO-BE

by Nikki Benjamin

  To Jack, something about what the woman knew and claimed not to know just didn't jibe. When he pointed that out to Abby and her sisters, they all nodded in agreement.

  "We looked through Larissa's personal papers, hoping to find some clue as to what really happened when we were born," Abby explained. "All we found was a copy of my birth certificate. That left us with even more questions since it lists different details than Jessica's birth certificate does."

  Abby took the folded document from the pocket of her jumper and handed it to Jack. As he looked at it, she continued.

  "We thought if we could find the midwife who delivered me, maybe she could fill in some of the blanks for us. But we're not sure exactly how to go about it."

  "I could do some research on the computer at the clinic," Jack offered, as anxious as Abby and her sisters were to solve the mystery surrounding their birth and separation. "Since we're closed for the day, we would be the only ones there, so you can come along, too, if you'd like."

  "Oh, yes," Abby, Sarah and Jessica agreed in unison.

  Then Abby's stomach let out a ferocious growl, and she groaned as the others laughed.

  "Sorry about that," she muttered, her face red.

  "No problem," Jack assured her, taking her by the hand and pulling her to her feet. "We'll stop and grab some burgers on the way to the clinic, then you three can eat while I surf the Net."

  Finding the midwife who had delivered Abby turned out to take much less time than Jack had anticipated. Though she must have been at, or beyond, retirement age, Henrietta Winslow was still listed in the state's directory of licensed and certified nurse/midwives, and the address given for her was the same as the one written down as the place of birth on Abby's birth certificate.

  A telephone number was given, as well, and Jack offered to make the initial call since he could truthfully tell whoever answered that he was a doctor looking for a midwife.

  With Abby, Sarah and Jessica sitting around him in his office, watching him with eager expectation, he dialed the number. After three rings, he was greeted by a woman's harried-sounding voice. Jack gave his name and asked for Henrietta.

  "Henrietta is my mother-in-law," the woman replied. "She's retired now and living in a nursing home." After a pause, during which Jack heard her yelling at someone named Bert, she came back on the line and added, "She'd been having a lot of health problems lately and I just couldn't cope with her here."

  Jack expressed his regrets, then asked if the woman would mind giving him the name of the nursing home where Henrietta now resided.

  The woman hesitated, then asked suspiciously, "Why do you want to know that? Did you used to work with her or something?"

  "Years ago," Jack answered, hoping he would be forgiven such a bald-faced lie since his intentions were good.

  "Oh, well, okay then. She's in the Golden Meadows Nursing Home on Apricot Lane

  , about fifteen miles east of downtown Vegas."

  The woman gave Jack the home's telephone number, as well, and he wrote it down along with the name and address. Then he thanked her and said goodbye.

  Three pairs of bright blue eyes fixed on him as he looked up from the pad of paper he'd been using.

  "You found her?" Abby asked.

  "Yes, I found her," Jack replied, holding up the piece of paper on which he'd written the pertinent information.

  "Can we go to see her now?" Jessica stood and slipped her purse strap over her shoulder, obviously ready.

  "She's in a nursing home on the east side of Las Vegas, about an hour and a half drive from here." Jack glanced at Abby. Along with Sarah, she, too, was standing now. "Are you sure you're up to it?"

  "Oh, yes," Abby assured him. "I'm fine now that I've eaten. And I don't think any of us could stand the anticipation of waiting until tomorrow or the next day."

  "All right, then. I'll take you," Jack said.

  "Thank you, thank you, thank you," Abby cried as she came around the side of his desk to give him a hug that was anything but perfunctory.

  Jack held her close as long as she let him, relieved that she was willing to include him in what might prove to be a very traumatic encounter for her and her sisters.

  He wouldn't have allowed them to make the trip alone under any circumstances. But he had been afraid Abby might refuse his offer out of a misguided sense of pride.

  She had to know, as did Sarah and Jessica, that at least some of what the midwife could tell them might not be too good. He didn't want any of them to have to deal with whatever secrets of the past the woman chose to reveal on their own, most especially Abby.

  She had overcome so much alone already. Jack wanted her to know that as long as he could draw breath, she would never have to face another demon on her own again.

  Though with Sarah and Jessica a part of her life now, maybe she wouldn't really need him anymore—

  Shoving that particularly disheartening thought out of his mind—at least for the time being—Jack locked up the clinic, settled Abby and her sisters in his car, and headed for the highway leading out of Promise.

  As the miles spun away, Abby, Sarah and Jessica sat quietly, hardly saying a word. Jack could only imagine what they were thinking. And he hoped against hope that by day's end they wouldn't be sorry they had set out on this journey into their past.

  * * *

  Chapter 22

  « ^ »

  Abby was more grateful than she could say that Jack had offered to take her and her sisters to see Henrietta Winslow. Sitting on the passenger seat of his car, she spent most of the nearly two-hour drive gazing out the window at the rather bland scenery.

  In the back seat, Sarah and Jessica sat together, poring over the two photograph albums containing pictures of Larissa, Hank and Judith, and herself as a child growing up in Promise that she had dug out of a box for them before they'd left for the clinic.

  Jessica had shown her the old photograph of their father and the more recent one of their grandfather that she carried in her wallet, providing faces for the names of the family Abby had never known she had.

  Abby had seen at once why Larissa had fallen in love with Lawrence Walker. He had been a handsome man with a humorous glint in his eyes all those years ago. He hadn't looked like the type who would totally abandon a woman pregnant with his child even though he'd been married. And maybe he wouldn't have if he hadn't died in a plane crash.

  From what Jessica and Sarah had said about Stuart Walker, he didn't seem like the kind of man who would have abandoned two of his three granddaughters, along with their mother, either. Obviously, he hadn't known about them. But someone had—the same someone who had arranged for Deidre Walker to adopt her dead husband's daughter, Jessica.

  Why hadn't that person told Deidre about her and Sarah? And why had their father's true identity been kept a secret from Larissa?

  By the time they reached the nursing home on the outskirts of Las Vegas, Abby's head was spinning with unanswered questions. From the solemn looks on Sarah and Jessica's faces, they, too, had become more and more puzzled by what had, and hadn't, happened almost twenty-seven years ago.

  "Do you want me to come inside with you?" Jack asked as he pulled into a parking place and shut off the car's engine.

  "Yes, please," Abby replied, shooting him an appreciative glance.

  Holding on to his hand for moral support, she led the way with him to the home's double glass front doors, Sarah and Jessica following along behind them.

  The long, low, one-story brick building set on a small patch of lawn with neatly trimmed shrubs dotted here and there looked nice enough. Inside, it was cool and clean and quiet. The woman sitting at the reception desk looked up from the magazine she was reading and greeted them with a welcoming smile.

  "May I help you?" she asked, her eyes widening as she noted the striking resemblance of the three young women.

  "We've come to visit Mrs. Henrietta Winslow," Jack said.

  He introduced himself as Dr. Jack R
andall, then added that he had spoken to Mrs. Winslow's daughter-in-law earlier in the afternoon and she had approved of their visiting her mother-in-law.

  "Oh, yes, no problem," the receptionist replied. "We encourage family and friends to visit as often as possible. It really helps to keep everyone's spirits up. Let me make sure Mrs. Winslow is in her room."

  A quick call to the nurse on duty confirmed that Mrs. Winslow was in her room. She was also up to seeing her visitors, but only for half an hour or so since she had been a bit under the weather the past few days.

  "Her room is through that doorway and down the corridor," the receptionist advised, gesturing to her right. "Room 115 on the right side of the hallway."

  "I can wait for you here if you'd like to talk to Mrs. Winslow on your own," Jack said as they started toward the doorway.

  Abby didn't mind having Jack along. In fact, she wanted him with her just in case Mrs. Winslow couldn't answer their questions. But she had her sisters' feelings to consider, as well. She looked at them questioningly, and to her relief, they smiled and said in unison, "No, please, come with us," then laughed along with Abby and Jack.

  Together, they walked down the corridor to Mrs. Winslow's room, and paused on the threshold to knock tentatively, announcing their presence.

  "Come in," a querulous voice instructed them.

  As they entered the large, brightly sunlit room, Abby's gaze was drawn to the elderly woman sitting in a wheelchair by the window. Her close-cropped hair was iron gray, her face lined with age, her mouth downturned in permanent dissatisfaction. But her hazel eyes were sharp and clear, and wearing a pretty pink robe, she looked much sturdier than Abby had anticipated.

  "And who are you?" Mrs. Winslow demanded, her frown deepening as she looked at Abby.

  A moment later, though, her mouth opened in an O and her eyes widened with surprise as her gaze slid past Abby to Sarah and Jessica.

  "I'm Abby Summers, Mrs. Winslow," Abby said, moving farther into the room. "And these are my sisters, Sarah Daniels and Jessica Walker."

  The three stood in a semicircle with Abby, in the middle, as their spokeswoman, while Jack stayed near the doorway, hands in his pockets, taking a back seat to the proceedings, yet seeming ready to step in, if necessary, to help in any way he could.

  "Summers, you say?" Mrs. Winslow sat back in her chair and nervously licked her lips.

  Again, her gaze shifted to Sarah, then Jessica, before settling on Abby once more. Though she didn't admit it, she seemed to recognize the name.

  "My mother—our mother—was Larissa Summers."

  "I see," Mrs. Winslow murmured, her tone still noncommittal.

  "Your name was listed on my birth certificate as the midwife who delivered me almost twenty-seven years ago," Abby continued. "I was born at the house where your daughter-in-law now lives. I believe my sisters were also born there and that you delivered them, as well. And I think that you might know how and why Sarah and Jessica were separated from our mother."

  For several long moments, Henrietta Winslow stared silently at Abby, making her wonder if the woman knew anything beyond the fact that she had delivered them. Or maybe she knew more, but was afraid to admit it because she had been involved in something illegal.

  "We're not here to cause you any trouble, Mrs. Winslow," Jessica said kindly, her thoughts obviously running parallel to Abby's.

  "What's done is done," Sarah added. "But we're hoping that by knowing why we were separated we'll be able to make peace with the past."

  Mrs. Winslow hesitated a few seconds longer, then nodded her head once, her mind obviously made up.

  "You're right. I did deliver all three of you, and a difficult delivery it was. A woman by the name of Cecelia Winthrop came to me with your mother. Said she was expecting twins. Also said she would pay me handsomely to handle the delivery and keep quiet about it. I had kids of my own and I needed the money, so I agreed.

  "Apparently, the Winthrop woman had made some kind of financial deal with the Summers woman, too. As I understood it, she was supposed to take one of the babies for herself and leave the other for Miss Summers. Seemed to have a lot of money, that Winthrop woman, and she wanted a baby, but on the quiet, you know? Didn't want the babies born in a hospital. She had her own lawyer lined up to make it all legal, too.

  "As it turned out, the birth was more involved than I anticipated because there were three of you instead of the two we were expecting. Poor Miss Summers passed out toward the end so she never knew about the third baby. The Winthrop woman insisted we keep it a secret, and she paid me extra not to say anything. She took two of you with her when she left, and I figured it was just as well—two of you growing up in a wealthy home and all.

  "I'm not proud of what I did. Hiding the third baby from Miss Summers was wrong. I admit that. But I really needed the money back them…"

  Abby stared at Mrs. Winslow, too stunned by her revelations to speak. Beside her, Jessica drew an audible breath.

  "This Mrs. Winthrop," she began, her voice quavering. "Can you … can you tell me what she looked like?"

  "A short little thing, blond hair, lots of makeup and jewelry. Not really pretty, but she knew how to make the most of what she had," Mrs. Winslow replied.

  Jessica rustled around in her purse, pulled out her wallet and slipped a photograph from it.

  "Is this the woman you knew as Cecelia Winthrop?" she asked.

  Henrietta Winslow took the photograph Jessica offered her and studied it closely, then looked up at Jessica, obviously puzzled.

  "Why, yes, that's her," she said. "She looks older here." She tapped the photograph with her finger. "Even so, I recognize her."

  "Deidre…" Jessica murmured, sounding betrayed. "Deidre knew about all three of us from the very beginning, but she kept it a secret. She had a hand in separating us, too. And she had Grandfather believing all these years that I was the sole surviving offspring of his only son."

  "She must have taken me with her, too, Jessica," Sarah said. "But then, I got sick…"

  "And Deidre wouldn't have wanted to risk explaining how she came to have two newborn babies, one of them seriously ill, to hospital personnel, so she just left you there and took me home to Willow Springs," Jessica added.

  "And Larissa took me home to Promise thinking she had done the best she could for each of her two daughters," Abby said. "Even if she had known our father's real name, with Deidre posing as Cecelia Winthrop, she would have never known that the woman so eager to adopt one of her babies was his wife, and still a part of his wealthy family."

  "What a mess." Jessica took the photograph from Mrs. Winslow and angrily shoved it back in her wallet. "And all instigated by my mother, who no doubt was more interested in maintaining her status within the Walker family than anything else.

  "If she had really cared about our father and our grandfather, and if she had really cared about me—about us—she would have told Stuart the truth about Larissa's relationship with Lawrence and the three granddaughters she had borne for him."

  Abby didn't know what to say to Jessica, and neither, it seemed, did Sarah. Each put an arm around her, though, offering what comfort they could, aware that she was angry on their behalf as well as her own.

  "Thank you for being so honest, Mrs. Winslow." Jack stepped forward as he spoke to the old woman, who looked as if she'd had a weight lifted from her shoulders.

  "I should have spoken up sooner, but I was too afraid," Mrs. Winslow allowed. "And anyway, who would I have told? Cecelia Winthrop wasn't even a real person. And poor Miss Summers—what could she have done?"

  Abby turned to Jack gratefully, as did Sarah and Jessica. He reached out and enveloped them all in a reassuring hug, then stood back and touched Abby on the cheek.

  "Let's head back to Promise, okay? We can decide what to do next on the way home."

  The three sisters thanked Henrietta Winslow, then followed Jack's lead back to the car, chattering as they went.

  "I k
now what I'm going to do," Jessica stated in a determined tone. "I'm going to call Grandfather and have a long talk with him just as soon as we get back to Promise."

  "Maybe we ought to just go back to Willow Springs. All of us," Sarah said, including Abby with a slight smile. "Then we can tell him, and Deidre, all that we've found out."

  "We should go to see Hank and Judith first though," Abby interjected.

  "Oh, yes, we should do that first," Jessica agreed.

  "Then we'll go to Willow Springs and talk to Stuart," Sarah said. "He'll know best how to deal with Deidre."

  "He most certainly will," Jessica muttered, her tight smile not nearly enough to hide the pain she had to be feeling at her adoptive mother's betrayal.

  * * *

  Chapter 23

  « ^ »

  During the drive back to Promise, Abby, Sarah and Jessica agreed on a plan of action based on what Henrietta Winslow had told them about their birth and subsequent separation. The next day, Sunday, Abby would take her sisters to meet Hank and Judith. Then, together, the three of them would head for Willow Springs to confront Deidre in front of their grandfather, Stuart.

  The woman had obviously taken terrible advantage of Larissa, keeping her in the dark about the Walker family while offering her money she must have desperately needed to give up one of her babies for adoption. Deidre had been equally unfair to Stuart, too, hiding from him the fact that he actually had three granddaughters instead of just one.

  Had Deidre been an honest, decent person, Larissa would have been able to raise all three of her children without having to struggle, and Abby, Sarah and Jessica would have grown up together as they should have.