Carver put an arm around his mother’s shoulders. “Let it go, Tia. It’s all in the past.”
Tears slipped down the girl’s cheeks. “It’s not all in the past. Because of her, I have epilepsy. Jill is right. God didn’t do this to me. Mother did.”
Jill gasped. How could her young cousin twist her words so horribly?
“All this time, Mother, I believed I embarrassed you. The truth is you never loved me.” Tia dropped into a chair and sobbed.
Lenore glared at Jill. “How dare you tell my daughter that I am to blame?”
The hatred gleaming in her aunt’s eyes pierced Jill. “I told Tia that God didn’t give her epilepsy. I never said you did.”
Uncle Drew walked in. “What’s going on here?”
Carver nodded toward the table.
Positioning himself, her uncle read the words. His face darkened. “Where did this come from?”
Tia looked up, sniffling. “I found it in Jill’s room.”
“So, cousin, you think we killed your mother.” Contempt dripped from Carver’s mouth.
“Is this true?” her uncle asked, his brown eyes soft with hurt.
“No!”
Lenore pointed to the puzzle. “Then what was this doing in your room?”
“I found it the day I arrived.”
“And you didn’t tell us?” Her uncle’s voice was barely audible.
Carver grinned. “Of course not. She believes it.”
“I don’t know what to believe.” Jill bit her lip. “But what if Maggie’s right? What if someone did kill Mother? I’m not saying it was any of you. But someone.”
“Right, cousin, and who might that mythical person be if not one of us?”
“I don’t know. All I want is the truth.”
Carver snorted.
“It’s not easy, Jill,” her uncle said with a kindness that surprised her under the circumstances, “but we all have to accept the fact that Susannah took her life. The security system was on. She was alone in the house. What more do you need to be convinced?”
Tears stung the back of Jill’s eyes. “It would help if I knew where each of you were when Mother died.”
“See?” Carver said. “She thinks we killed her mother.”
Couldn’t they understand? “I just need the whole picture.”
Lenore huffed. “Why should we humor you?”
Uncle Drew took his wife’s hands. “Dear, Jill was kind enough to let us live in this house that you love so much. The least we can do is help her put this all behind her. We have nothing to hide, so what’s the harm?”
Lenore pressed her lips together and shot Jill a venomous look. “All right, if you must know, I drove to Escanaba early that morning and stayed until four o’clock to bid on the last piece I needed for Windtop.”
“Did anyone go with you?”
“So unless I have a witness, I’m a liar?” Her aunt’s dark eyes narrowed. “I went alone, as I always do. Plenty of people saw me.”
“Carver?” Uncle Drew prompted.
Her cousin’s lips curled in disdain. “I was nowhere near this place.”
“He was taking a college exam for Psychology 411 out east,” Uncle Drew added before turning to his daughter. “Tia?”
The girl lowered her eyelids and bent her head.
“She was at home, recovering from a seizure,” Lenore snapped.
Her uncle sat down and laced his short fingers. “And I was at the mill all day, dealing with an equipment failure until the police arrived to tell me of Susannah’s death.”
Jill’s strength drained from her. Everyone had a solid alibi. No wonder the sheriff and the coroner declared her mother’s death a suicide.
“There’s no other explanation for Susannah’s death, Jill.” Her uncle’s voice grew hoarse at the end.
“Your mother was a sick woman,” Lenore said, “and whatever you may think, we had nothing to do with her death.”
Tia looked up, her brown eyes pleading. “Honest, Jill, I didn’t do it,” she whispered. “Aunt Susannah was always kind to me. I’m so sorry she died.”
Jill’s chest constricted. What had she done, letting her doubts carry her so far afield?
“Enough!” Lenore took her place at the dining table. “Jill, stop obsessing about your mother’s death. It’s annoying.” She shook out a linen napkin and placed it on her lap. “Mrs. Fenton, take your ear from the door and serve dinner. Someone get that puzzle off the table. The rest of you sit down.”
Jill and Tia reached for the puzzle. When Tia retreated, Jill scooped the pieces into the box, her heart heavy. Her doubts had now made her more of an enemy in the eyes of her family.
Fitting the lid on the box, she picked it up and paused. She should at least apologize. “I never meant to hurt any of you. I simply wanted to know. Please forgive me.”
No one responded.
Maybe she should reassure them. “I did search but found nothing to suggest that any of you were responsible for Mother’s death.”
No one moved.
“I … I’m not hungry. Please excuse me.” Clutching the puzzle, she fled the dining room.
Leaning her back against her bedroom door, Jill squeezed out the hot tears. “I failed, God. I tried so hard to prove Mother’s death was no suicide, and all I’ve done is alienate what little family I have.”
Worse, she had ruined any chance of God using her to draw the Bradwells to himself. She no longer had any reason to remain at Windtop.
She pulled her suitcases from beneath the bed and began to pack. It would be a long night, but this way, she’d be ready to leave in the morning. When she finished, she sank into Maggie’s rocker, a pad of blank paper on her lap.
Her brow furrowed and her heart lay in shards as she sighed. Why did she always push so hard for what she wanted? Once again, she had plowed headlong into disaster. She could never repair the damage now. All she could do was leave this place where she would never fit in. Leave this place of sorrow. If only she had taken Clay’s advice days ago.
Gripping the pad of paper on her lap, she wrote a farewell letter, signed it, and sat back. The words stared up at her.
Dear Uncle Drew, Aunt Lenore, Carver, and Tia,
I had such dreams that one day we might truly be a family, but once again I’ve messed up. I’m so sorry. Please believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you, either by returning to Windtop or by trying to understand my mother’s death. I see now that, as hard as it is, I simply have to accept her suicide.
It’s too late to disturb you tonight with my decision, and by the time you find this letter, I’ll be gone. Don’t worry. I’ll never trouble you again.
Goodbye,
Jill
She clutched the letter. Was this what God wanted? Or just something she believed was best? “Lord, please. I need to hear from you.”
She retrieved her Bible from her bedside table and opened it. Her gaze fell on the words of Isaiah, “I, the Lord, have called you to demonstrate my righteousness. I will guard and support you.”
What did that mean?
A timid knocking at the door arrested her attention. “Jill, I … may I come in?”
Tia. What did she want?
Folding the letter, she tucked it in her Bible and opened the door.
The girl slipped in, careful to close the door behind her. “I’m so sorry, so ashamed. You’ve been better to me than anyone, even when I haven’t been good to you.” Her large brown eyes swam with tears. “Can you ever forgive me?”
Jill stared at her young cousin. Was this another act? Was the girl setting her up again? She’d had her fill of trouble from Tia. “You had no right to go through my things.”
“I didn’t, but please, Jill, please forgive me.”
For a long minute, Jill studied the girl. If she were acting, her mother should pack her on the next plane to Hollywood.
Her cousin’s gaze went to the bed where the suitcases lay. “You’re not leaving!
You can’t. Not now. In my room, I just asked Jesus to forgive me and gave my life to him, just like Karen kept saying I should.”
“Karen?”
“You know. The girl at church. She was always telling me that inviting Jesus into my life was the best thing I could do. And you know what? She was right. I feel so clean inside.”
Tia’s eyes shone with more than tears. She grabbed Jill’s hands before Jill could pull them away. “You have to stay. I need you,” she said. “I don’t know the first thing about being the kind of Christian you are. Please stay, Jill. Please help me.”
As much as Jill wanted to believe her cousin, could she? Still, it was hard to ignore her pleading as the girl’s eyes searched hers. They reminded her of her own desperate desire just six months ago. Maybe God was accomplishing his purpose at Windtop in spite of all the mistakes Jill had made.
“All right, Tia, I don’t know that much myself, but I’ll stay. For a while.”
The girl threw herself into Jill’s arms and hugged her so hard she couldn’t breathe. Startled, Jill put her arms uncertainly around her cousin.
When Tia pulled away again, her face was wet but full of joy. Jill offered her a tissue from the box on the dressing table.
Tia blotted her tears. “Can you help me pray for the rest of the family?”
This was all too fast for Jill’s sensibilities to take in, but she knelt beside her cousin on the braided rug. They took turns asking God to work in Drew’s, Lenore’s, and Carver’s hearts.
When they finished, Tia stood up. “Thank you, Jill. I think I can sleep now.” She glanced at the suitcases. “Will I really see you in the morning?”
Jill stood, too, still startled by the quick turn of events. “I’ll be here.”
With a smile, the girl left, closing the door softly.
God, is this real? Or was Tia pretending for some reason? Yet, her young cousin’s clear eyes and her words I feel so clean seemed sincere. Until she knew for sure, she would not abandon her.
Pulling the farewell letter from her Bible, she dropped it into the wastebasket.
Chapter Eighteen
The rapping on her bedroom door dragged Jill from a deep sleep. Groaning, she burrowed under her pillows.
Whoever you are, please go away. Hadn’t last night been enough?
When the noise persisted, she pushed the pillows away. “Yes?”
Mrs. Fenton entered with a cheerful wink. “Happy Fourth of July!”
Fourth of July? Her plans to leave today wouldn’t have worked even if she had gone ahead with them.
“Mr. Merrick is waiting downstairs.”
“Clay?” Jill sat upright in bed. “Whatever for?”
“The Bradwells went over early with friends. He waited especially for you. He says to tell you his grandma is expecting you.”
“Oh, my goodness, I promised to help Amelia with the church craft booth.” She threw back the covers. “Tell him I’ll be down in fifteen minutes.”
A quick shower later, she searched through the clothing in her closet and dresser drawers, pulling together the red, white and blue motif the townsfolk favored. She slipped into her red T-shirt, white capris with the blue stars on the pockets, and a blue cardigan. Oh, and her gold necklace and earrings that sported American flag designs. That should do it.
Her gaze strayed to the wastebasket.
Mere hours ago she had planned to leave Windtop and all its problems. But now, Tia was counting on her, and maybe this was God’s way of saying it was not yet time to leave.
Yet a certain uneasiness crept around the edges of her mind.
By the time Jill and Clay arrived with Amelia at Bayshore Park, its amphitheater-like shape echoed with the sounds of booth construction. Men no sooner hammered long boards into square frameworks than the women festooned those booths with red, white, and blue bunting. Metal pipes clanged as burly men set up the children’s train and Ferris wheel rides. Up the hill in the shade of a cluster of trees, a chainsaw burr-upped with short bursts in the hands of the local stump artist as he tested his equipment.
Little had changed. Nor was change needed. The familiar sights and sounds evoked memories of previous Fourth of July celebrations, and her heart squeezed with longing. Yet, after last evening’s disaster, she could hold no more delusions about gaining a warm place in the hearts of her family.
Tia might be the exception. Had the girl truly changed?
A few yards away, Lenore ordered Uncle Drew around the Historical Society booth, never once looking her way though she was sure her aunt knew of her presence. The woman never missed a detail. Yet neither glanced her way. If they were deliberately ignoring her, she couldn’t blame them.
She turned back to the patch of grass where Pastor McGee and Leo were erecting a large dome tent near the park’s entrance. Helen handed her husband the last tent stake which he drove into the ground.
“We’re all set, Amelia,” Helen said. “How do you want the quilts and crafts displayed?”
Clay opened a lawn chair. “Sit here, Grandma, while I bring your quilts from the truck.”
Jill steadied Amelia as she sat in the chair while Pastor McGee fell into step behind Clay and motioned to his nephew.
“Let’s give him a hand, Leo.”
Safely in the chair, Amelia gripped Jill’s hand and winked. “My Sonny likes you.”
Whatever gave her that impossible impression?
The dear woman’s faded blue eyes twinkled. “You two can’t fool an old woman. I’ve been around the block a time or two. You like my grandson, and he likes you.”
Jill couldn’t deny her part, but surely Amelia wasn’t right about Clay. Even if she were, as long as he distanced himself from the Lord, they had no hope of a future together. Her heart ached at the loss.
Wood clacking against wood warned of Pastor McGee and Clay’s return with the card tables and quilt racks. Leo followed with a stack of colorful quilts. While Amelia supervised from her chair and the men returned to the truck, Jill helped Helen arrange craft displays on the tables and the quilts on their racks.
Tia ran toward them from the Historical Society’s booth. “Hi, everyone!”
In the distance, Lenore paused to check on her daughter. When Jill offered a tremulous smile, her aunt scowled and busied herself. Jill took a steadying breath.
Unaware and all grins, Tia halted beside her. “Let me help, Jill. Tell me what to do.”
“Ah … sure.” Was the girl trying to get another rise out of her mother? Tia’s expectant attitude didn’t seem to support that idea. “Pastor McGee, Helen, Leo, this is my cousin Tia.”
Amelia nodded and smiled. “How nice to see you again.”
“Glad to meet you,” Pastor McGee said as Helen reached out to take her cousin’s hand.
Leo grinned. “Didn’t I see you at the service Wednesday night?”
Tia’s cheeks pinked. “I … ah … yes. I’m afraid I wasn’t very friendly. But a lot has changed since then. Right, Jill?”
Jill smiled quietly and nodded. She certainly hoped so.
Leo’s eyes brightened. “How about cluing me in while I get the rest of the quilts from Mr. Merrick’s truck?”
Tia tagged along, she and Leo talking earnestly.
Was it Jill’s imagination, or was Tia really so happy? Maybe … no, it was too early to tell whether her cousin’s claims were sincere.
Once the crafts and quilts had been properly displayed, Amelia reminded everyone of the cookout at her house. “In about a half hour, shall we say?”
“I’ll bring my frosted apple pie squares,” Helen said.
“They’re the best,” Leo confided to Tia with a grin.
Pastor McGee zipped the tent shut. “See you folks soon.”
At Leo’s invitation, a delighted Tia left with the McGees, taking a moment to check in with her parents. Studying the young people’s retreating forms, Jill couldn’t help but notice that Leo actually believed Tia had given her heart to the Lor
d.
If only Jill were as sure.
Jill helped Clay position the picnic table in Amelia’s backyard. While he fired up the grill, she went inside to see what help her friend might need in the kitchen. The spicy aroma of brats and burgers soon drifted through the open window and her stomach growled. She and Amelia burst into laughter.
“It’s been so long since my last cookout,” Jill said, pulling a large bowl of homemade potato salad from the refrigerator while Amelia cut the brat and burger buns.
Making two runs, Jill carried the potato salad and then a crockpot of slow-cooked baked beans to the picnic table. She returned to bring out thick slices of chilled watermelon and had just placed them on the table, along with a pitcher of iced tea, when she heard Tia call out, “We’re here!”
Leo eyed the laden table while Pastor McGee made room for Helen’s dessert. “Looks great! Anything we can do to help?”
“Check with Amelia in the kitchen,” Helen suggested.
The two teens were off in a shot while Jill began pouring the tea. “I guess they’re hungry.”
Leo came back toting a large platter of brat and burger buns while Tia trailed with the ketchup, mustard, pickles, and diced onion.
She giggled, her glow reminding Jill of those first months after she had invited Jesus into her life. Hopefully, Leo’s attention wasn’t the only reason for her cousin’s obvious happiness.
With a long-handled spatula, Clay flipped the last of the burgers. “I could use a platter here,” he said, and Jill hurried to hold the dish while he piled on the grilled meat. She covered the meat with aluminum foil. His gaze caught hers before he quickly busied himself scraping the grill.
Amelia was wrong. For all of her friend’s fond hopes, nothing had changed.
Jill joined the others, setting the meat platter on the table as Pastor McGee asked Leo to pray.
Without a moment’s pause, the young man bowed his head. “Lord, thank you for your many blessings, for this country where we are free to worship you, for loved ones around this table, for your precious blood that paid for our sins. Please bless this food to the health of our bodies and those who prepared it. And Lord, thank you for the new lamb in your fold. Help her to grow strong in you. Amen.”
Her Deadly Inheritance Page 17