here in town? Who is she?”
Cain glanced at Sophie and then returned his attention to the road. “The shutterbug is Martha Barker. She married straight out of high school. Her married name is Martha Garrison—my mother.”
NINE
“Y our mother?” Sophie asked.
“I don’t know why I was so surprised. Truthfully, I should have thought of it sooner. My parents were born and raised in Promise. They know just about everybody.” Cain grinned. “I bet your mom and mine had the same teachers. Promise is a small town, but back then it was even smaller.”
Sophie picked up the photo and stared at the image. “Do you think your mom will remember my mother?” She couldn’t hide the wistfulness in her voice. “I’ve never met anyone other than my father who could tell me anything about her.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Cain took the picture from her fingers and slid it into his shirt pocket. “Let’s go ask her.”
“Now?” She tucked her hair behind her ear and grimaced as she looked down at her T-shirt and jeans. A wave of panic washed over her. How should one dress when meeting a woman who could hold all the answers to the millions of questions in her heart? How well had Cain’s mother known hers? Would she remember her? Would she be able to fill in the blanks, answer all of her questions about a woman who had mattered so much to her and yet whom she’d never met? And would Martha Garrison know anything about her father’s real identity? Or hers?
“Hey,” Cain gave her a playful tap on the arm. “Don’t look so scared. My mom doesn’t bite. I’ll give her a call and ask her to meet us at the house.” He lifted his cell phone.
Sophie reached out and grabbed his arm. “Wait!”
Cain held the phone in midair and stared at her.
“I…I want to meet your mother. I do,” she said. “But I want to visit my mother first.”
Cain lowered the phone and raised an eyebrow. “Your mother is buried in Promise? I don’t understand. She isn’t buried in the Weatherly family plot?”
Sophie smiled at his puzzled expression. “No. She’s buried in Crossroads Cemetery under her married name of Clarkston. Dad thought it would be better that way. We’d come back to Promise twice a year and visit her grave. We were never here more than a week or so…but I still think of Promise as my home.” She fought back the tears burning her eyes. “Or at least it used to be. In the days when I thought I was a Clarkston. Now I don’t know who I am and I don’t have anywhere to call home.”
“Home is where your heart is, Sophie. And it sounds to me like Promise fits that bill.” He gently rubbed her shoulder. “I’d be honored to go with you to visit your mother.”
Sophie squatted down, placed the handpicked bouquet of flowers on the grave and ran her fingers across the name Elizabeth Ann Clarkston on the headstone.
“I’m here, Mom. I know it’s not one of my usual visits and Dad’s not with me this time but I’m here. I wish I could talk to you and tell you all the horrible things that have been happening and ask you for your advice.”
She glanced up at Cain standing at the edge of the grave, turned back to the headstone and lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “I’m afraid, Mom. I’m so afraid. And the worst part of it all…” She glanced over her shoulder again and saw that Cain had walked a few feet away to give her privacy.
“Everything’s one big lie. I’m not Sophie Clarkston. I don’t have a clue who I really am.” She stood and stared down at her mother’s grave. “Did you know, Mom? Or did Dad lie to you, too?”
A breeze blew across the back of Sophie’s neck and sent a shiver down her spine. Someone was watching her. Quickly, she swiveled her head and looked around. Cain stood about four graves away, his back to her, looking out at the horizon. To her left, some distance away, she saw an elderly woman holding a Bible at another grave. They
Cain glanced at Sophie and then returned his attention to the road. “The shutterbug is Martha Barker. She married straight out of high school. Her married name is Martha Garrison—my mother.”
NINE
“Y our mother?” Sophie asked.
“I don’t know why I was so surprised. Truthfully, I should have thought of it sooner. My parents were born and raised in Promise. They know just about everybody.” Cain grinned. “I bet your mom and mine had the same teachers. Promise is a small town, but back then it was even smaller.”
Sophie picked up the photo and stared at the image. “Do you think your mom will remember my mother?” She couldn’t hide the wistfulness in her voice. “I’ve never met anyone other than my father who could tell me anything about her.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Cain took the picture from her fingers and slid it into his shirt pocket. “Let’s go ask her.”
“Now?” She tucked her hair behind her ear and grimaced as she looked down at her T-shirt and jeans. A wave of panic washed over her. How should one dress when meeting a woman who could hold all the answers to the millions of questions in her heart? How well had Cain’s mother known hers? Would she remember her? Would she be able to fill in the blanks, answer all of her questions about a woman who had mattered so much to her and yet whom she’d never met? And would Martha Garrison know anything about her father’s real identity? Or hers?
“Hey,” Cain gave her a playful tap on the arm. “Don’t look so scared. My mom doesn’t bite. I’ll give her a call and ask her to meet us at the house.” He lifted his cell phone.
Sophie reached out and grabbed his arm. “Wait!”
Cain held the phone in midair and stared at her.
“I…I want to meet your mother. I do,” she said. “But I want to visit my mother first.”
Cain lowered the phone and raised an eyebrow. “Your mother is buried in Promise? I don’t understand. She isn’t buried in the Weatherly family plot?”
Sophie smiled at his puzzled expression. “No. She’s buried in Crossroads Cemetery under her married name of Clarkston. Dad thought it would be better that way. We’d come back to Promise twice a year and visit her grave. We were never here more than a week or so…but I still think of Promise as my home.” She fought back the tears burning her eyes. “Or at least it used to be. In the days when I thought I was a Clarkston. Now I don’t know who I am and I don’t have anywhere to call home.”
“Home is where your heart is, Sophie. And it sounds to me like Promise fits that bill.” He gently rubbed her shoulder. “I’d be honored to go with you to visit your mother.”
Sophie squatted down, placed the handpicked bouquet of flowers on the grave and ran her fingers across the name Elizabeth Ann Clarkston on the headstone.
“I’m here, Mom. I know it’s not one of my usual visits and Dad’s not with me this time but I’m here. I wish I could talk to you and tell you all the horrible things that have been happening and ask you for your advice.”
She glanced up at Cain standing at the edge of the grave, turned back to the headstone and lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “I’m afraid, Mom. I’m so afraid. And the worst part of it all…” She glanced over her shoulder again and saw that Cain had walked a few feet away to give her privacy.
“Everything’s one big lie. I’m not Sophie Clarkston. I don’t have a clue who I really am.” She stood and stared down at her mother’s grave. “Did you know, Mom? Or did Dad lie to you, too?”
A breeze blew across the back of Sophie’s neck and sent a shiver down her spine. Someone was watching her. Quickly, she swiveled her head and looked around. Cain stood about four graves away, his back to her, looking out at the horizon. To her left, some distance away, she saw an elderly woman holding a Bible at another grave. They
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