“Take care of her, Henry. I love her—that hasn’t changed. But I need some answers. I owe my sister that.”
“ I know,” Henry said.
And Patrick realized, with a shock, that Henry really did. Because if all of this was true, Henry had a sister, too.
Patrick wanted to say more. But he couldn’t form the words. So he just turned and walked down the path.
Laney ’s not Fiona’s daughter. How can this be happening?
CHAPTER 27
Rockland, Maine
T hree and a half hours later, Patrick pulled up to the Maine home. It was a large two-story white colonial with black shutters, and flowers blooming along the front. A tree swing lay still under a towering willow twenty feet from the house.
The Chandler helicopter had dropped him forty miles away. As Henry had promised, a Jeep had been waiting for him, directions programmed into the GPS.
Patrick sat behind the steering wheel, watching the house. He’d noticed the electronic surveillance as he drove up the long drive, and he’d had to request access at the gate. So Victoria knew he was here—yet no one appeared. He was grateful. He needed a moment to prepare himself, to brace himself for the conversation to come.
His mind still reeled at everything Laney had told him —and at the heartbreak on her face. He knew he needed to be there for her, but first he needed answers. He owed Fiona that. He owed Laney that. She believed what she told him. He needed to find out if it was true. Taking a deep breath, Patrick stepped out of the car.
He walked up the stone path. It was quiet, a slight wind blew, and the sun felt warm. It was a peaceful spot. It helped calm his emotions.
The front door opened when he was still five feet away.
A tall, muscular man , in his fifties, with dark brown hair, stepped back to allow him entrance. “Father Patrick, I’m Ralph. Victoria is expecting you. Follow me, please.”
Patrick stepped in and Ralph closed the door behind him , then led him down the hall without a word. Ralph stopped at a door at the end and gestured for Patrick to enter.
The room Patrick stepped into was a large study. Two couches framed a brick fireplace on the right. On the left was an antique desk with a silver tea set. Victoria stood in front of a chaise lounge, her back to a bay window that looked out on an incredible garden.
“ Victoria?” Ralph asked.
“ That’s all, Ralph. Thank you,” she replied.
With a nod to Patrick, Ralph took himself back down the hall.
“Father Patrick, can I offer you some tea?” Victoria indicated the tea set on the desk.
The normality of the offer pushed Patrick ’s anger to the surface. This woman had brought all this drama and heartache to his family, and now she was offering tea?
He strode across the room. “Tea? No. I don’t want any of your bloody tea. What I want are answers.”
Victoria pursed her lips, her back going straight. “Of course. Could we at least sit?” She gestured to the couches.
Patrick gave an abrupt nod. He tried to swallow his resentment. He needed answers, and his anger would only cloud the conversation.
“ I take it Laney has spoken with you,” Victoria said as she took a seat.
Patrick sat down across from her, leaning forward. “Yes. She’s convinced you’re her biological mother and that my sister was only her unofficial adopted mother. I don’t see how any of that is possible.”
Victoria took a breath. “It’s true. Delaney is my biological daughter. Your sister’s child died an hour after she was born.”
Patrick stared at her. Who the hell was this woman? “Why should I believe you?”
Victoria took a folder off the table. “I showed these papers to Laney: the blood work.” She pulled one sheet of paper from the folder. “I didn’t have a chance to show her this one. It’s a DNA test between her and Henry.”
Patrick took the paper, checking the subjects ’ names. “This says John and Jane Doe.”
Victoria nodded. “Yes. I didn’t
“ I know,” Henry said.
And Patrick realized, with a shock, that Henry really did. Because if all of this was true, Henry had a sister, too.
Patrick wanted to say more. But he couldn’t form the words. So he just turned and walked down the path.
Laney ’s not Fiona’s daughter. How can this be happening?
CHAPTER 27
Rockland, Maine
T hree and a half hours later, Patrick pulled up to the Maine home. It was a large two-story white colonial with black shutters, and flowers blooming along the front. A tree swing lay still under a towering willow twenty feet from the house.
The Chandler helicopter had dropped him forty miles away. As Henry had promised, a Jeep had been waiting for him, directions programmed into the GPS.
Patrick sat behind the steering wheel, watching the house. He’d noticed the electronic surveillance as he drove up the long drive, and he’d had to request access at the gate. So Victoria knew he was here—yet no one appeared. He was grateful. He needed a moment to prepare himself, to brace himself for the conversation to come.
His mind still reeled at everything Laney had told him —and at the heartbreak on her face. He knew he needed to be there for her, but first he needed answers. He owed Fiona that. He owed Laney that. She believed what she told him. He needed to find out if it was true. Taking a deep breath, Patrick stepped out of the car.
He walked up the stone path. It was quiet, a slight wind blew, and the sun felt warm. It was a peaceful spot. It helped calm his emotions.
The front door opened when he was still five feet away.
A tall, muscular man , in his fifties, with dark brown hair, stepped back to allow him entrance. “Father Patrick, I’m Ralph. Victoria is expecting you. Follow me, please.”
Patrick stepped in and Ralph closed the door behind him , then led him down the hall without a word. Ralph stopped at a door at the end and gestured for Patrick to enter.
The room Patrick stepped into was a large study. Two couches framed a brick fireplace on the right. On the left was an antique desk with a silver tea set. Victoria stood in front of a chaise lounge, her back to a bay window that looked out on an incredible garden.
“ Victoria?” Ralph asked.
“ That’s all, Ralph. Thank you,” she replied.
With a nod to Patrick, Ralph took himself back down the hall.
“Father Patrick, can I offer you some tea?” Victoria indicated the tea set on the desk.
The normality of the offer pushed Patrick ’s anger to the surface. This woman had brought all this drama and heartache to his family, and now she was offering tea?
He strode across the room. “Tea? No. I don’t want any of your bloody tea. What I want are answers.”
Victoria pursed her lips, her back going straight. “Of course. Could we at least sit?” She gestured to the couches.
Patrick gave an abrupt nod. He tried to swallow his resentment. He needed answers, and his anger would only cloud the conversation.
“ I take it Laney has spoken with you,” Victoria said as she took a seat.
Patrick sat down across from her, leaning forward. “Yes. She’s convinced you’re her biological mother and that my sister was only her unofficial adopted mother. I don’t see how any of that is possible.”
Victoria took a breath. “It’s true. Delaney is my biological daughter. Your sister’s child died an hour after she was born.”
Patrick stared at her. Who the hell was this woman? “Why should I believe you?”
Victoria took a folder off the table. “I showed these papers to Laney: the blood work.” She pulled one sheet of paper from the folder. “I didn’t have a chance to show her this one. It’s a DNA test between her and Henry.”
Patrick took the paper, checking the subjects ’ names. “This says John and Jane Doe.”
Victoria nodded. “Yes. I didn’t
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