Cherished Secrets

by C. B. Clark

  Carrie Ann shook her head. Vivian was full of surprises. She could only imagine the concerned-and-loving-aunt act she’d put on to convince Janine to let her take Bonnie. Once Vivian set her mind to do something, nothing stood in her way. Janine hadn’t stood a chance. Vivian and Leland going to Seattle and picking up Bonnie explained her friend’s frantic phone calls. She’d been trying to warn her Bonnie was on the way.

  What was in the old shoebox? What was so important Vivian wanted her to look through her mother’s effects now when she should be doing so much else? She left the bathroom and headed up the stairs to her room.

  She sat on the hardwood floor, her back resting against the side of the bed and placed the battered shoebox on her lap. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the lid and set it aside. She picked up a photograph from the small stack of pictures lying on top. Two young girls, their thin arms draped around each other’s shoulders, grinned back at her, their eyes filled with happiness. A small, spotted pony stood in the background grazing on a patch of tall grass, and she remembered Vivian telling her of the horse she’d had when she was young.

  This was the first photograph she’d seen of her mother as a child, but she knew right away the small girl with two, white-blonde braids hanging past her narrow shoulders was her mother. The older girl in the photo with her auburn hair tied back in a severe ponytail, had to be Vivian. No mistaking the fierce look in her pale eyes.

  The next three photos showed the same two girls smiling and happy. The close bond between them was unmistakable. Another photo, a studio portrait, taken a few years later, was of her mother as a girl of thirteen or fourteen, teetering on the brink of adulthood. Her long, shiny, blonde hair and slim build were the same, but the expression on her youthful face was hard, her eyes cold. Gone was the happy innocence of childhood; replaced by something darker, almost sinister.

  She picked up the last photo. This one showed the two sisters, dressed in colorful party dresses sitting on a porch swing and squinting under the bright summer sun. Flowers bloomed in the background. Her mother appeared to be in her early twenties. Her youthful prettiness had blossomed into stunning beauty. Vivian must have been in her early thirties at the time the photo was taken, her face already showing the harsh lines marking it today.

  The picture was disturbing, but she couldn’t pinpoint what unsettled her. Holding the photo up to the light streaming through the window, she examined it more closely. The women’s smiles were forced; her mother’s blue eyes hard and cold. Vivian’s wounded. Both women’s bodies were stiff. A void separated them on the swing’s seat, one she sensed neither wanted to cross. Gone was the closeness and happiness evident in the earlier photographs. Again, she wondered what had happened to cause such a drastic change.

  She put the photographs down and looked at the small diary nestled in the box. Her mother’s name, Caroline Jane Morgenstern, was etched in faded gold lettering on the cracked, red, faux-leather cover. A ripple of excitement trilled along her spine. Vivian had always been reluctant to discuss her younger sister. In spite of the questions Carrie Ann asked, Vivian managed to avoid providing any answers. This diary was her chance to find out what her mother had thought and felt.

  Her hand trembled as she opened the book and turned to the first entry. The date at the top of the page indicated the words had been written when her mother was ten years old. Just a year younger than Bonnie. The first entries were written in a neat, childish hand. Tears filled Carrie Ann’s eyes, and the words wavered in front of her as she read of the excitement and drama of birthday parties, Christmas gifts, and a child’s hopes and dreams for the future.

  As the months and years passed, the entries grew sporadic and then stopped. Nothing new was written in the diary until Caroline was almost thirteen years old. These new entries chilled Carrie Ann. Gone was the cheerful recounting of daily events; replaced with darker, angry, almost frightening thoughts, as if two different people had written them.

  The writing was sloppy. Words were misspelled, the sentences long and confusing, filled with hatred and vitriol. A theme ran throughout—Caroline’s growing hatred and jealousy of Vivian. Carrie Ann’s stomach clenched as she read of her mother’s scheming to exact revenge on her older sister.

  She closed the diary, unable to read any more of her mother’s angry ramblings, but the acrimonious words written so long ago were emblazoned on her mind. Had her mother really been such a vengeful person? Why? What had happened to cause her to hate Vivian so much?

  A tap on the door startled her.

  The door swung open, and Vivian stepped into the room. She sat on the desk chair and pointed at the photographs and diary spread across Carrie Ann’s lap. “I’m sure you have some questions.”

  Questions? She had a million, but where to start? “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You have to understand.” Vivian tucked her lips over her teeth. “Caroline was complicated. She was a striking child and grew up to be an even more gorgeous woman.” Her eyes softened. “You look a lot like her, you know.”

  Carrie Ann held up the diary. “After reading this, I don’t think that’s much of a compliment.”

  A veil of sadness clouded Vivian’s pale eyes. “I was an only child for the first ten years of my life. My parents had given up on having any more children, but then Mother discovered she was pregnant. From the moment she was born, Caroline was treated like a princess. She was so pretty, so delicate, everyone adored her.” The corners of her mouth lifted. “I loved her too. She was my own little doll.” Vivian’s thin, veined hands twisted in her lap. “Something happened when she was eleven years old. It changed her forever.”

  Carrie Ann sucked in a tremulous breath. “What?”

  “Our father contracted tuberculosis.” Vivian met Carrie Ann’s gaze, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Times were different then. In those days, TB was incurable. If you became infected, you were removed from your family and home and sent to isolation in a sanitarium. You didn’t have a choice. It was the law.” She wiped her eyes with a tissue. “Most people never recovered from the disease. They died in those places.”

  “Your father?”

  Vivian nodded. “I never saw him again. He was in the sanitarium a month before he succumbed.”

  A lump grew in Carrie Ann’s throat.

  “Mother was sick as well,” Vivian continued. “I looked after her, tried to help, but…” Her voice fell away. “They put her in the san as well.” Vivian’s eyes were red-rimmed.

  Carrie Ann inhaled a shaky breath. To lose her father, and then her mother so soon after, when she was so young must have been awful for Vivian. “But you and my mother were okay. You didn’t get TB.”

  Vivian stared out the window, her gaze far away as if reliving those tragic times. “A few weeks after Mother passed away, Caroline began coughing. She ran a high fever. I couldn’t let them take her to the sanitarium to die. She was eleven years old and all I had left.” She met Carrie Ann’s gaze. “I didn’t tell anyone she was ill. I cared for her, bathed her, fed her, tried every remedy I could find. Nothing worked. She grew weaker every day. I feared I’d lose her.” She shrugged. “But then one morning, the fever was gone, and her health slowly returned. I was elated. I loved Caroline. She was all I had left. My only family.”

  “I don’t understand.” Carrie Ann shook her head. “You saved her life. Why was she so angry with you?”

  Vivian aged before her eyes. “Caroline’s body recovered. Her mind didn’t. She was a different person after the fever. I took her to doctors, but no one could determine what had happened. The general consensus was the high fevers she’d suffered while in the throes of TB had affected her mind.”

  “How was she different?” Carrie Ann asked, though she knew. She’d read Caroline’s bitter words in her diary.

  “She grew sullen and secretive. She was always angry. Nothing I did was good enough.” Vivian wiped her eyes. “The situation grew worse when I met Jonathon Bradstone.” Vivian�
�s eyes took on a hollow look. “We fell in love. He asked me to marry him, and I accepted. I couldn’t wait to be his wife. And then Caroline…” Her voice trailed off.

  Carrie Ann tried to imagine Vivian young and in love. She’d married Leland soon after Carrie Ann had come to live with her, but Carrie Ann had never seen any real affection between the two, let alone love. Vivian’s voice drew her out of her thoughts.

  “Caroline wanted Jonathon and set out to seduce him. She was so beautiful. What man could refuse her? They became lovers, and he called off our engagement and asked her to marry him. He told me she was his soul mate, and he couldn’t live without her.” She paused and blinked at Carrie Ann as if suddenly remembering she was in the room. “Caroline grew tired of him soon after. Once she achieved her goal, she didn’t want him anymore. She broke off the engagement. Poor Jonathon was brokenhearted. He killed himself a week later.”

  Silence descended over the room. The old house creaked around them. Somewhere downstairs, Bonnie giggled.

  “Caroline moved away not long after, and we didn’t keep in touch, though I heard she’d married and had you.” Vivian’s voice was a thin thread. “You must understand it wasn’t her fault. If Jonathon had really loved me, she wouldn’t have been able to take him.” She blew her nose. “When your parents died in the fire, the lawyer for their estate contacted me. Your father didn’t have any living relatives, and your mother had named me in her will as your guardian.”

  Carrie Ann sank back against the bed. “You must have hated having to raise me. I was a constant reminder of Caroline’s betrayal.”

  Tears once again filled Vivian’s eyes. “I always wanted you, Carrie Ann; from the second I found out about you, I wanted you.”

  Carrie Ann fought back the flood of tears threatening to overwhelm her. “Why didn’t you ever show you cared?”

  “I was afraid you’d blame me for what happened to your parents.”

  “Blame you? Why would I blame you? The fire wasn’t your fault. It was an accident.”

  Vivian dabbed at her brow with a shaking hand.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” Carrie Ann was almost afraid to ask. “You always told me the fire was accidental.”

  Tears streamed down Vivian’s lined face. “I tried to stop her. You have to believe me.”

  A numbing cold seeped through her. “Tried to stop what?”

  “Caroline contacted me.” Vivian’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “I hadn’t heard from her in six years, but she phoned and wanted to see me. She said this was our chance to reconcile, to be sisters again. I left Cooper’s Ridge right away and drove to Portland to see her.”

  Vivian shuddered. “The second she opened the door, I knew something was wrong. The house was a mess, books strewn across the floor, furniture overturned, glass shattered. There was blood on Caroline’s nightgown.” She inhaled a shaky breath.

  “She held a knife in her hand. I asked her what had happened, but she wouldn’t tell me. Instead, she led me into the dining room. The mess was even worse there, and then I saw your father lying in a pool of blood. I ran over to see if I could help him, but I was too late. He was dead. I told Caroline to call the police, but she acted as if she hadn’t heard me. The knife was clenched in her hand and she stared at me with those awful vacant eyes.

  “I…I asked her what had happened, and she said they’d had a fight. Simon had found out she’d had an affair with another man. He threatened to leave her, and she killed him. No one was ever going to leave her again.” Vivian inhaled a shaky breath. Her hands gripped the sides of the chair as if to stop from keeling over. Recounting the terrible events of so long ago was taking a heavy toll. Her body trembled, and her face was a white mask of exhaustion.

  Carrie Ann blinked away her tears. “You don’t have to tell me any more now. You should rest. We can talk again later.”

  Vivian continued as if she hadn’t heard her. “I studied the woman standing before me, and I knew Caroline was insane. She needed help. I grabbed the phone to call the police, but she ran out of the room. I was afraid she’d hurt herself so I ran after her. She was in her bedroom, the door locked, but I smelled gasoline.

  “And then the explosion happened. I guess I lost consciousness because the next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor in the hall. The smoke was so thick I could barely breathe. Flames crackled from behind Caroline’s bedroom door. She was inside the inferno. I staggered to my feet and slammed against the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Something was blocking it. Then I heard you crying.”

  “What do you mean?” Carrie Ann blinked. “I wasn’t in the house that night. I was at a neighbor’s.”

  “That’s what I told you. How could I tell you the truth when the truth was so awful?” Vivian dabbed at her brow. “I found you in the closet in your bedroom buried under a pile of clothes. You must have crawled in there when you heard your parents fighting. There was so much smoke, but the flames hadn’t reached your room. I carried you outside.

  “I heard sirens in the distance. I saw your innocent face, and I knew what I had to do. I refused to let you live with the knowledge your mother had killed your father and then killed herself; far better for you never to know the truth.

  “I called Leland. He knew who to bribe to make sure the fire was ruled accidental, and your parents’ deaths became another senseless tragedy.”

  Carrie Ann rubbed her aching head.

  “Don’t make the same mistake I did.” Vivian’s voice was raw with emotion. “No matter what else she did, your mother loved you. She’d have been proud of the woman you turned out to be, proud of the mother you are. Bonnie is a wonderful child, and all because of you.”

  “Why are you telling me this now? After all these years?”

  “I don’t want any secrets between us anymore. It’s time you learned the truth.”

  The truth. Carrie Ann snorted. “We have more in common than I thought. You’ve lied to me all these years, exactly like I’ve lied to Bonnie and to Declan.”

  “I did it for you, Carrie Ann, to protect you. Please believe me.”

  Carrie Ann’s stomach knotted. She’d used the same words to justify not telling Bonnie about Declan. Was what Vivian had done any different? Didn’t the fact she’d wanted to protect her niece show how much she cared? The same way Carrie Ann cared for Bonnie and wanted to protect her? For the first time, she understood Vivian, and with understanding, came the beginnings of forgiveness.

  As if reading her thoughts, Vivian tottered across the room and bent down and wrapped her thin arms around her.

  Carrie Ann stiffened at the unexpected embrace. No more secrets, no more lies. As the affirmation rang through her, she relaxed and hugged Vivian. “Thank you.”

  Vivian released her. “For what?”

  “For bringing Bonnie here. You were right. She needs to know the truth.”

  “It’ll be okay. I promise.” Vivian turned and shuffled out of the room.

  Carrie Ann wiped her damp eyes and inhaled a deep, steadying breath and followed her aunt. Here goes. God help me. Here goes.

  Chapter 24

  “This isn’t a good time, Declan.” Vivian’s voice echoed up the stairway.

  Carrie Ann paused at the top of the stairs, her heart pounding as she listened to the confrontation below.

  “I don’t give a damn. I want to see her now.”

  She stiffened at his angry voice.

  “I don’t care what you want, young man.” Vivian used her most authoritative voice. “This is my house, and I told you my niece does not want to talk to you.”

  “Fine. I’ll talk to Bonnie.”

  Carrie Ann’s heart froze, and she bounded down the stairs. “What do you want, Declan?”

  “We need to talk,” he bit off, his eyes hard. “Now.”

  “Declan.” Vivian refused to back down. “I already told you, now is not a good time. Come back later when you’ve calmed down.”

  Carrie Ann’s heart warmed at Vivia
n’s pit-bull-like protection. The last thing she wanted was to fight with Declan. She had to talk to Bonnie. She opened her mouth to tell him to leave, but hesitated at the fierce determination in his dark eyes. He wouldn’t leave until he said what he’d come here to say. “I’ll talk to him.”

  Vivian’s eyes were questioning.

  Carrie Ann nodded. “It’s okay.”

  “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” Vivian walked away.

  A strained silence followed her departure. Carrie Ann’s mouth was dry, her palms damp.

  “Let’s go for a walk.” Declan’s face resembled a stone carving, but his eyes blazed.

  Her heart beat a trip-hammer in her chest. She didn’t want to go anywhere with him. But the challenge in his dark eyes changed her mind. He thought she was afraid of him. Like everyone else in town. The words he’d uttered yesterday reared before her. She’d hurt him enough. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

  Grabbing her coat from the hall closet, she followed him out of the house. They walked down the driveway and across the road to a narrow, dirt path almost hidden by overgrown vegetation. Her heart fluttered as she realized where they were going.

  Walking single file, she followed him, shoving branches out of her way and stepping over roots and exposed rocks. The burble of running water reached her, and in another hundred yards, they broke through to a small clearing on the bank overlooking the river.

  Their clearing.

  The trail from her aunt’s house was a private shortcut, one they’d taken countless times when they were teenagers. She perched on the same flat rock she’d sat on two days earlier when she’d followed him from the motel.

  Declan remained standing, looking out over the rushing river, his hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans.

  Water splashed and gurgled as the river flowed over rocks and around sweepers. She inhaled the fresh scents of damp moss, tree sap, and fish. Puffy, white clouds scudded across the soft blue sky, and streaks of sunlight filtered through the overhanging trees, dappling the ground.