It was the first week of February, and Rainwater and I had just returned from a much deserved week-long honeymoon in Vermont. The resort where we’d stayed had been so kind to move our reservation at no charge. I discovered that people were inclined to help you when you tell them that someone had tried to kill you.
It was a wonderful trip, but I was happy to get back to Charming Books, sell books, and teach. While we were gone, Richard covered my classes for the week. He owed me, and I had no trouble cashing in on the favor.
Rainwater wasn’t due back to the department until the next day, so he stayed in the shop with me while I walked around and made note of all the impractical changes my grandmother had made since I left.
I held up a volume of poetry. “Why on earth would Grandma Daisy put this in the science fiction section? It makes no sense. I’d never be able to find it if I needed it.”
Rainwater looked up from the book he was reading by the fire. “How do you know it was Grandma Daisy? It could just as easily have been the bookshop itself.”
“No, it was Grandma Daisy. She did it just to mess with me.”
The front door opened, and Imogene came inside. We had asked her to meet us at the shop at four that afternoon. She was a half hour early. Neither Rainwater nor I were surprised.
“I hope I’m not too early,” she said.
Rainwater stood up.
Faulkner cawed from his spot in the tree. As of last week, he had just been able to fly again after Hank had sprained his wing. He and Emerson, who was asleep in his cat bed by the hearth, had received a lot of praise and treats since they’d saved my life. Faulkner was particularly basking in it.
Imogene looked at Rainwater. “Do you have my book?”
He nodded. Since Hank pleaded guilty to the murder of Heath and took a plea deal for a shorter stay in prison, there would be no trial. Without a trial, there was no reason to hold Imogene’s book as evidence any longer.
Rainwater walked over to the sales counter and pulled a plain brown box from under the counter. He set the box on the counter and lifted the book out of it. He carried the book over to Imogene and placed it in her outstretched hands.
Imogene held the book close to her chest. “I’m so happy to have it back. It felt like I had lost a piece of myself. It was never about how much money it was worth, or what I could do with the money if I sold it. If it had been, I would have sold the book long ago.”
Rainwater removed a piece of paper from his jacket. “I have something else for you. This is a researcher in Massachusetts. I spoke with her. She does have access to a lock of Thoreau’s hair. It’s from a hair wreath that his mother had made of all her children when they were young. Perhaps that’s where Heath got the idea to tell you about the wreath in the first place.”
Imogene stared at him.
“She is willing to do a real DNA test for you. Free of charge. She seemed eager to delve into the research, and since the academic article that Dr. Richard Bunting wrote about you was so well-received, there is academic interest to see if your family’s story proves true.” He held the piece of paper out to her. “This is her name and number.”
She took the piece of paper in her hand and closed her eyes for a moment as if she was in the process of absorbing its power.
“What are you going to do with it?” I asked breaking the silence.
She lowered her hand, uncurled her fingers, and stared at the paper. “I—I don’t know. What can I do?”
“You can call the researcher and have a conversation,” I said. “It’s a start.”
She curled protective fingers around the paper. “How do I know that she really has Thoreau’s hair? What she has is just as much of a story as the one I have told.”
“You can’t know,” I said. “You just have to decide what you want to do with it, and if you decide to do the DNA test, you have to decide if you believe it.”
“But I know that I’m Thoreau’s descendent. I know I am.”
“Then why do the test?” Rainwater asked. “If you know, what more do you need? Is the validation really necessary?”
She blinked at him like she’d never considered this before, and maybe she hadn’t.
“What do you want to do with the information if you can prove it to be true?” I asked.
“I—” She looked down on the ground. “I never thought about that before. I have been so intent in proving it true; I’ve never made it to the next thought.” Her voice wavered. “I just want to know and want the world to know. For the acknowledgment.”
It was the most honest thing I had heard Imogene say since I’d met her. She wanted the recognition. The problem was, there would always be doubters even if the DNA test came back in her favor.
“Sometimes you don’t need to know without a shadow of a doubt,” I said. “Sometimes the mystery of the possibility is enough. You need to weigh the possibility of disappointment against the mystery of it all. If you’re doing this just for yourself, do you really need to? If you’re doing this for others, will it be worth it?”
“I suppose those are the questions I will have to ask myself.” She looked at Rainwater and me, and back again. “Thank you for returning my book.” She shuffled out of the shop.
Rainwater looked at me. “What do you think she will do?”
“I honestly don’t know.” I winced as queasiness washed over me for a second time that day. It seemed to come in waves, and later in the day they became tidal waves. I had done my best over the last week to ignore them, but it was impossible to now. Thankfully, Rainwater had his back to me as he went back to the fire and his book. At least that’s what he I thought he was doing.
He reached behind the couch cushion and held something behind his back. “I have something for you too.”
I blinked at him. “What is it?”
He handed me a long jewelry box.
My hands hovered over the box. “What is it?”
“There is a very easy way to find out what’s in the box.”
“But what is it for? It’s not my birthday, and Valentine’s Day is two weeks away.”
He grinned. “Does everything need an explanation?”
“Well, yes,” I said seriously.
He chuckled. “It’s the gift that I wanted to give you our wedding night before everything went crazy with Roma’s death. When I finally thought to give it to you, I knew it needed a few changes, so I had those made while we were on the honeymoon.”
I stared at him.
“Are you going to open it?” He laughed.
“Okay, okay.” I pulled on the blue ribbon and it fell away from the box. Rainwater took the ribbon from my hand. Carefully, I opened the lid. Inside, on a velvet pillow, was a necklace. I recognized it right away. “It’s the birch tree.”
“That’s right. A silversmith in my tribe made it for me. One day, when you weren’t paying attention, I took pictures of the tree from every angle, so that she would have something to work from.”
“It’s beautiful. It looks just like the tree.” I peered more closely at it. “Is that Faulkner in the branches?”
He nodded and pointed at the bottom of the charm. “And that is Emerson at the base, taunting the crow. It’s just like real life. I decided after the dynamic duo saved your life, they needed to be added in.”
“It’s such a thoughtful gift. I love it so much.” I looked up at him. “And I love you.”
“I love you too. Let me put it on you.” He took the chain from my hand, stepped behind me, and clasped the necklace around my neck. His fingertips brushed the back of my neck. Just as he did, a wave of dizziness overtook me, and I bent at the waist.
Rainwater rubbed my back. “What’s wrong? Violet, are you all right?”
I still felt a bit woozy, but I was able to stand up. I leaned on my husband. It still felt odd to think of Rainwater in this those terms. With all that had happened since the wedding night, it was crazy that we were here, and I had this news to share. “It’s not something wrong. It’s something right.”
“Right?” The Cascade Springs chief of police stared at me. I’ve stared into those unusually colored amber eyes and lost myself in them so many times, but this time, he was the one who seemed to be lost.
My face broke out into a smile. “Very right. I know it’s sooner than we’d planned, but…”
His mouth fell open. “No!”
“Yes,” I whispered.
Rainwater’s eyes went wide, and he placed a hand on my stomach. “We’re having a baby?”
I nodded with tears in my eyes.
He lifted me off of the ground and crushed me in a massive hug. “Oh no.” He set me on the ground again. “I shouldn’t have done that. Are you all right? Is everything all right?”
I patted his arm. “I’m fine, Chief.”
Emerson leaped from his cat bed and rubbed his lithe body against our legs. Faulkner cawed and flapped his wings.
His eyes glowed golden. “I can’t believe this.”
“You’re happy?” I didn’t bother to hide the anxiety in my voice. “I know we wanted to wait.”
“I’ve never been happier in my life.” He grinned. “Should we find out the gender? I know it’s a little early yet. Some people don’t want to. We never talked about if we want to find out.” He was chattering away faster than I had ever heard him talk.
“It’s a little early yet,” I said. “But we don’t need the test.”
“Why not?”
I smiled up at him and then looked at the birch tree in the middle of my shop—a tree that one Waverly woman after another had cared for and protected for over two hundred years. “It’s a girl. That much I know.”