Heritage

by Davis, Mary

  She pulled away from him. “I need to take a shower and get ready before we leave.”

  He stood and grabbed his coat. “I’ll come back in about an hour. Will that be enough time?”

  “Perfect.”

  He left and returned an hour later. When she let him in, he handed her the spiral notebook Dancing Turtle had left him. “I read through this while I was waiting. Read the last entry.”

  “ ‘I have found my Charlotte at last. I will contact her tomorrow and together we will find our granddaughter.’ ” She glanced up at him. “That’s me,” she added before turning back to her reading. “ ‘I almost have all the information. If Charlotte and I are not able to find her, please find our granddaughter and tell her we love her.’ ” When she looked up again, tears rimmed her eyes.

  “See the date. That’s the night he died in his sleep.”

  “He never got to talk to Charlotte?”

  He shook his head.

  “That’s so sad to look for the one you love your whole life, and then when you find her, you die before you can see her.” She wiped a tear that ran down her cheek. “I’m not going to let that happen again.”

  He handed her a snowsuit. “You can wear this.”

  Seventeen

  Will pushed his snowmobile out of his shed. Rachel eyed the machine with about as much enthusiasm as his students on finals’ day.

  “I’m nervous.”

  About the snowmobile or seeing Charlotte? He patted the handlebar. “This is perfectly safe.” He handed her a helmet with goggles and helped her put it on, adjusting the strap under her chin; then he put on his. He straddled the machine and started it then held a hand out to her.

  “I appreciate you doing this.” She climbed on behind him.

  “No problem. Hold on.”

  He drove out of town to the beach at British Landing and stopped at the frozen lakeshore. “There it is. The ice bridge. Our link to the outside world.”

  “What are all the trees for?”

  Small evergreens dotted the way across the ice. “They mark the way so we all know where the ice is thickest. Wouldn’t want to fall through.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “As long as we stay near the trees.”

  “How does. . .whoever. . .know where the ice is safe?”

  “You can see where the ice starts forming first, and that is generally where it will be thickest. And those that have been on the island for several decades have an instinct about it, I guess.”

  “Where did all the trees come from?”

  “Christmas. The people who have one save it until the bridge freezes. When the ice melts in the spring, they slip quietly into the water. A sort of recycling program. Ready to go?”

  “Are you sure it’s safe? Maybe we should wait until we can take the plane off the island.”

  “This is perfectly safe. People have been driving across this for two days.”

  Just then two snowmobiles pulled up beside them and headed out across the bridge.

  “See. People are anxious to get off the island. I don’t know if we have ever lost anyone on the ice bridge. No one since I’ve lived here.” He wouldn’t tell her that he’d only lived on the island for five years. But that was long enough to hear stories to know the bridge was safe. He also wouldn’t tell her about the man three years ago who lost his snowmobile through the ice trying to test if the bridge was solid enough. He’d phoned from St. Ignace to say he was safe but not to let anyone else try to cross. The ice bridge never did freeze solid enough that year to be usable. And this year’s bridge didn’t look like it would last very long.

  “Ready?”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Yes.”

  He pulled down his goggles and drove out onto the firm ice. He liked the feel of her arms around him but couldn’t help feeling some measure of guilt. He could have easily borrowed a snowmobile for her to drive herself, but he wanted her close to him, even if they were both bundled up to their eyeballs.

  Was it really so wrong to want to be near the woman he loved? Yes, he’d told her he was her friend and he was. He would be her friend until she was ready to be more. Until she could fall in love with him back. He hoped that would be soon.

  ❧

  “I told you the ice bridge was safe.”

  Rachel wasn’t sure if she was glad to be on the other side or not. If she couldn’t get off the island, she couldn’t see her grandmother. If she couldn’t see her grandmother, then there would be no chance of rejection. She should have tried harder to get the number and just called her. Rejection was easier when you didn’t have to look the person in the eye, but she physically wanted to see the woman whose features she had inherited.

  New fallen snow allowed them to drive all the way to Charlotte Coe’s house. When Will came to a stop and cut the engine, she laid the side of her well-covered face against the back of his coat. This was it.

  Rachel had encircled Will’s waist with her arms, and he put his hand over hers. He gave them a squeeze but didn’t move to dismount the snowmobile until she released him.

  He took off his helmet and goggles and helped Rachel remove hers; then he pushed down the scarf from around his mouth. “Ready?”

  She loosened her scarf as well. “What if she won’t see me?”

  “What if she will?”

  “What if she tells me to go away? I will have no one then.”

  He cupped her face in his gloved hands. “I can’t make you any promises about your grandmother, but I can promise you this: Regardless of how this meeting goes, you will have me, and you will always, always have the Lord. He will never ever leave you. You are part of His family now.”

  “I know, but with no physical family, I just feel alone. By not meeting her,” she pointed toward the house, “I will always have her. If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, then I’ll have lost her forever.”

  “You won’t know unless you go up to that door and meet her. If she doesn’t want to see you, then you start building a new family of Christians, people who will stand beside you no matter what.”

  But she desperately wanted to have a family of people related to her. “Would you go up and make sure she still lives here? But don’t tell her who I am. I want to do that.” She needed a moment alone to gather her courage.

  He nodded and walked up the shoveled path.

  Lord, give me the strength to accept whatever my grandmother’s reaction is. But I really want her to love me.

  She could see the front door open, but the screen door remained closed, and Will spoke with the woman who answered. There were several exchanges back and forth before the door closed, and Will came back down the path. “She thinks we are here to swindle her out of her life savings, but it is definitely her.”

  “You’re sure.”

  He nodded. “She said so. You are going to have to come to the door and tell her who you are.”

  She walked up the path and rang the bell. The old woman wouldn’t come to the door. She rang several more times, but all attempts were ignored. Great. Her grandmother wouldn’t see her—not for who she was but for who she thought she was. “What do we do now?”

  He shook his head. “I guess we leave and try another day.”

  She didn’t want to leave. She’d had misgivings about coming, but now that she was here, she wanted to meet her grandma. What else could she do but leave? They walked back to the snowmobile as a man, buttoning his coat, came out of the house across the street, heading toward them. “Can I help you?” he called.

  She pointed toward the house. “We wanted to see Charlotte Coe, but she won’t talk to us.”

  “Charlotte keeps to herself. What do you want to see her about?”

  Should she tell him? She took a deep breath. “I believe I’m her long lost granddaughter.”

  The man snorted. “Sorry. I just find the long lost relative a bit hard to swallow. She’s just a lonely old woman living out her days. She doesn’t have any
thing.”

  “She might have love for me. I want to know if she really is family. That’s all I want from her.”

  He tossed a glance at Will. “And you?”

  “Just a supportive friend.”

  The man turned back to her. “I actually believe you. You have her eyes. I’m Randy Dern.” He held his hand out to her. “I’ll see if I can get Charlotte to open her door.”

  She shook his hand and took in a relieved breath. “Thank you.” Then she followed him up to the door.

  “Charlotte, it’s Randy. Open the door.” After a moment, a lock clicked as if being unlocked and the door cracked open. “Can we come in?”

  “Them two are trying to take all my money.”

  Rachel’s heart went out to the old woman. To be living alone and afraid.

  “They just want to talk to you.”

  Rachel leaned a little forward so her grandmother could see her. “My name is Rachel Coe. My mother’s name is Barbara, and I believe she was your daughter.”

  The door slowly swung open as Charlotte stared at her. “My baby Rachel?”

  Charlotte knew her! Tears welled in her eyes, and she nodded.

  Her grandmother stared for a moment then fumbled with the lock on the screen door. “I can never get this thing to work when I want it to.”

  “Lift up on the button on the side,” Randy said.

  She did so and finally was able to unlock the door. “Well, move out of the way. I can’t rightly open the door with you blocking the way.”

  Randy chuckled at her rebuke. “I’ll just be on my way. You have a nice visit.” Randy turned to Rachel and said in a low voice, “It will be good for her to have family around.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  Rachel and Will stepped inside, and Charlotte closed the door behind them. “Let me take a good look at you.”

  Rachel unwound her scarf. Will took it from her and then her coat.

  Tears filled Charlotte’s eyes. “I know you are a grown woman, but would you mind if this old woman gave you a hug?”

  Her emotions crashed over her. This woman loved her, even though she didn’t know her. “I would like that.” A tear slipped down her cheek.

  Her grandmother wrapped her thin arms around her, and she hugged the frail woman back. She had family even if it was only one relative.

  Her grandmother stepped back from her with tears on her own face. She pulled a tissue out from the cuff of her green cardigan sweater and dabbed at her eyes. “My, how you have grown since the last time.”

  She wiped her own tear away. She had met her grandmother before? “You’ve seen me before? I don’t remember.”

  Her grandmother nodded. “In this very house. I’m not surprised you don’t remember. You were only eighteen months old. You were here for three days; then Barbara took you away. Never saw you again.” Tears rimmed the old woman’s eyes. She waved her hand in front of her face as though willing them away. “You would sit in my lap in that rocking chair, and I’d read to you.” She pointed to an old wooden rocking chair, then went over to a basket beside the TV and brought back a book. “This was your favorite.” She handed her a children’s book with a bird on the cover.

  Rachel caressed the front of the book. “Why did my mom leave and never come back?”

  “Barbara and I’d had a fight as we usually did. She was a strong-willed one, she was. I came home from work, and the two of you were gone. That is the only time I ever saw you.”

  She wasn’t sure what to call this woman, so she awkwardly used her first name. “Charlotte, do you know who my father is?”

  “When you were little, you called me Gumma. I would be honored if you would call me Grandma—but I’ll leave that up to you.”

  “I would like that. . .Grandma.” It felt right and natural.

  Grandma smiled. “Barbara never did tell me who your father was. Way back when, we had fought, as usual, and she had left, as usual. It was three years before I heard anything from her again. She showed up on my doorstep, out to here with you.” She held her hands out in front of her stomach. “No husband. I told her she should have learned something from my mistakes. We fought again, and she left. When she came back again, you were a toddler. I told her the two of you were welcome to stay, but she needed to get a job to help out. The next thing I knew, she was gone. And you with her.”

  So it was her mother’s choice not to keep in touch with family. Why, Mom? I could have grown up knowing my family instead of being alone.

  Grandma blinked several times. “Where are my manners? I never offered you anything to drink. I have orange juice in the refrigerator. Coffee or tea. It will only take a jiffy to heat water in the tea kettle.”

  “Tea would be nice.”

  Grandma looked at Will, whom they had both been ignoring. “And you?”

  “Tea will be fine.”

  Her grandma left, and Rachel turned to Will. “I’m sorry for ignoring you. I got so caught up in finally meeting her.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You should take every moment you can to get to know her. You are finally getting the family you wanted. I’m enjoying watching the two of you.”

  “You really don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. I’m merely an observer.”

  When Grandma came back with mugs of tea, she handed one to each of them and sat in the rocking chair. The rocking chair her grandma had read to her in. Grandma turned her attention to Will. “My bad manners seem to be coming out all over the place. I didn’t even let my granddaughter introduce you.”

  “I’m Will Tobin.”

  “I don’t see a ring on either of your fingers.”

  “I’m just a friend. I gave Rachel a ride over the ice bridge from Mackinac Island on my snowmobile.”

  “It’s nice to have good friends you can depend on.”

  Will was certainly a good friend, but she thought of him as something more. But what?

  Suddenly, her grandma stood. “Oh here, let me show you something.” She left and returned with an old shoebox. She sat on the couch next to her and slowly removed the lid. The box was full of old photographs. She started digging and pulled out a picture of a dark-haired toddler holding a pink kitty, grinning so hard her nose was crinkled up. “This is my favorite picture of you.”

  Rachel took the picture. “This is me?”

  “When you squeezed the paw it would meow. It would make you laugh every time.”

  “I remember that cat. I don’t remember it ever meowing. The batteries probably ran out, and Mom never replaced them.”

  “How is Barbara?”

  “Mom passed away seven years ago. Cancer.”

  Her grandma shifted the box to her lap and got up, leaving the room. Rachel watched her leave, and her own ache at losing her mom welled up inside her again. She hadn’t been a great mom, but she was the only one she had. And Mom had loved her.

  Will scooted next to her. “She probably needs time to adjust to such sad news.”

  “That news is never easy to take. Or to give.” She sifted through the pictures; several more of her as a toddler, her mom’s high-school pictures, and others of people she didn’t know.

  After a while, her grandma returned and sat back down. She took out each picture and told who was in each. She came to one of twin black-haired boys about nine years old. “This is the only picture I have of your grandfather. He’s the one on the left.”

  Her heart beat faster. But who was the one on the right? Charles or Lewis? She was almost afraid to ask. She wanted so much to be Charles’s granddaughter. He had wanted her, searched for her. She pointed to the boys in the picture from left to right. “Charles and Lewis?”

  “Yes. I was several years younger than them. Lewis used to tease me, and serious Charles would always come to my rescue. I really loved them both.”

  “But Charles is my grandfather?”

  “Yes.”

  She gave a mental sigh. What a relief. What little she had been allowe
d to know about Lewis’s side of the family had not been that great. She would much rather be the granddaughter of the brother who might have actually wanted her. “What happened? Why didn’t you and Grandpa ever marry?”

  “Lewis used to always say he was going to marry me. I never took him seriously. And I never fell in love with him. Charles was my champion. We pledged our love to each other under the stars before God. We somehow thought that would make what we were about to do all right. It didn’t, and I became pregnant. Charles wanted to marry me, but I saw the wedge it was driving between the two brothers. So I left. I knew if I left I could never come back. I knew it would take time for their relationship to heal. I would give them a lifetime if that was what it took.”

  Even a lifetime hadn’t been enough. She felt so bad. Grandma had given up a life with the man she loved so that Charles and Lewis wouldn’t have a breech between them. She didn’t have the heart to tell her that her sacrifice had been in vain.

  Will looked at his watch. “We need to be going. We don’t want to risk being out on the ice after dark.”

  When she stood to leave, Grandma grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “You will come back, won’t you?”

  Grandma looked as afraid as she was to lose what little family she had. “I promise, and you have my phone number on the island.”

  “I don’t have service. Call Randy’s; he’ll let me know you made it.” Grandma turned to Will. “You take good care of my little Rachel.”

  He smiled. “I will.”

  Eighteen

  Tomorrow night she would make dinner for Will. Maybe their relationship would start moving forward. She was tired of just being his friend and his regular comments about him coming over to see her—just as a friend—and how it was nice for them to be friends. He wanted more, and now she felt she was ready for more. But there was something that was bothering her. She would take care of it first, then she’d stop by the store to get a couple of things she needed for tomorrow night’s meal.

  The sleigh taxi stopped in front of the library. She paid the driver and got out, keeping one hand securely in her pocket. One of the horses shook his head, jingling his harness. She stepped inside and up to the circulation desk. “Is the head librarian here?”