Chapter 30

Clara wiped her streaming eyes. “Your father, William, and your mother went on a few dates, but their relationship wasn’t serious, at least not on your mother’s part. They were just friends. She met Angus Crawford at a party in Vancouver hosted by close friends, and the second she saw him, she fell in love.” Clara blinked back tears. “Do you believe in love at first sight, Athena?”

“Of course not.” She tore her gaze from Clara and stared into her mug to hide her lie. An oily scum floated on the surface of the cooling coffee. She hadn’t believed in love at first sight. That was the stuff of romance novels, but then she met Russ. Now she wasn’t so sure.

“Your mother loved Angus with all her heart. And he loved her.” Clara’s voice cracked. “Their…their affair lasted six months.”

A knot twisted in Athena’s stomach at the thought of her mother loving the tall, spare, dour Angus Crawford. “What happened?” Though she knew, oh, she knew the ugly truth. The letters had revealed all the sad details.

“If you read those letters—” Clara pointed a shaky finger at the stack of envelopes. “—you know the rest. Your mother became pregnant. Angus wasn’t ready to settle down. He offered her money for an…an abortion, but she refused.” Clara sought Athena’s gaze. “She loved you even then.”

Athena wiped her face, surprised at the dampness.

“His rejection broke her heart.” Clara blotted her damp eyes with the soggy tissue. “But the good Lord has a plan, and in the end, the situation worked out for the best. William loved your mother. He offered to marry her and help her raise you. He didn’t care that you weren’t his biological child.” Her lips trembled in a shaky smile. “He was a good man, and he was head over heels in love with your mother. He’d have done anything for her.” She huffed out a shaky breath. “She grew to love him, and they were happy. You saw them together. You know that. They had a good relationship.”

Athena’s head throbbed. Was this sordid story of love and rejection really her life, or was she in the middle of a soap opera? “So, Dad knew about me? I mean—” She clenched and unclenched her fingers. “He knew Angus Crawford was my father.”

Clara stared out the window. “That didn’t matter to him. He loved you and your mother with all his heart.”

Athena couldn’t dispute her aunt’s claim. Her father had loved her. In countless ways he’d shown her the depth of his love. He’d comforted her when she was frightened, tended to her scrapes and bruises, and read to her even when she was long past the age of needing a bedtime story to fall asleep. Grabbing her cup, she lurched to her feet and crossed to the sink and dumped the cold coffee. She hefted the coffee pot and refilled her cup. Setting her cup on the table, she topped up Clara’s cup from the pot and sat.

She scooped two heaping tablespoons of sugar into her cup and stirred. The clatter of the metal spoon against the ceramic cup added to the pain in her throbbing head, so she stopped stirring. In the ensuing silence, she asked the question that had haunted her since she’d discovered her mother’s letters. “Why did Mom and Dad move to Shelter Island? Angus Crawford owned the island. Wouldn’t Mom have wanted to be as far away as possible from the man who’d broken her heart?” She wrapped her chilled hands around the hot mug.

Clara’s hand shook as she poured creamer into her cup. A puddle of white slopped onto the table. She grabbed a handful of tissues and mopped up the spill. “You…you were only a few months old when Angus reappeared. He was having second thoughts, and he wanted to be part of your life. No matter what your mother said, he wouldn’t leave her alone. He was determined to be your father.” She lifted her mug with both hands and sipped.

Athena drummed her fingers on the pine tabletop. She wanted to grab her aunt by the shoulders and shake the truth out of her, but one look at the elderly woman’s pale, stricken face, and she gripped the edge of the table and held back. “Go on. Tell me the rest.”

“Angus wanted to acknowledge you as his daughter. Your mother and he argued for months over your custody.” Fresh tears filled Clara’s eyes, and she tugged more tissues from the box and mopped her face. “He was rich and powerful. Your parents realized they couldn’t win a custody battle. His team of lawyers was too good.” She sniffled and dabbed her eyes. “They reached a compromise. Your parents agreed to move to Shelter Island where Angus would have limited access to you. In return, he promised not to tell you or anyone else that he was your biological father.”

Athena’s heart stalled. “My parents moved to Shelter Island because of me? I thought living off the land on an isolated island was their dream. I thought they were like hippies or free spirits.”

“The situation worked out. Before long they realized they liked living on the island. Fortunately, Angus was a busy man, and his visits were infrequent.” Clara’s mouth tightened. “Once he won, he lost interest in them. And in you.” She placed her hand over Athena’s. “Your parents loved you. They never regretted anything, not you, nor living on the island. Not for one minute. You must believe that.”

Athena struggled to digest this news. The tale was too incredible not to be true. The letters she’d found in Angus Crawford’s safe backed up Clara’s story. Her heart ached at the pain her mother must have suffered in loving a man, discovering she carried his child, and then being cast aside. To rub salt in the wound, she’d been forced to live in close proximity with her ex-lover, forever under his control.

Her memories of her parents’ relationship were filled with laughter and affection. They’d loved each other. And they’d loved her. No question. Clara was right. They’d enjoyed living on the isolated, rugged island. She flattened her palms on the table. “Do you have any idea why Angus would have had all those photos?”

Clara shook her head. “I suppose he wanted to keep an eye on you as you grew up.”

Athena nodded. That was the conclusion she’d drawn. The thought of Angus Crawford creeping around and spying on her was unsettling to say the least, but his actions were also sad. He’d missed out on a relationship with his daughter, and the only way he could connect with her was through stolen photographs.

She met Clara’s gaze. “There’s something else I have to show you.” She fished in the front pocket of her jeans and tugged out the baby bracelet and set the fragile chain on the table. “I also found this.”

“What is it?” Clara stared at the chain.

“I think it’s my baby bracelet.” She pointed at the inscription on the tiny gold ID plate.

Clara squinted at the engraving. “You’ll have to tell me what it says. My old eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

“The name Margaret and a small heart are engraved on the ID plate.” Athena picked up the fragile gold bracelet and rubbed the cool metal between her fingers.

“You found that bracelet in Angus’s safe with the letters?”

Athena nodded.

“Your mother must have given the chain to Angus as a keepsake after you were born.” Clara struggled to her feet. “Maybe he cared more for you than we thought. Why else would he have taken all those photos? He kept your mother’s letters and your baby bracelet all these years in his safe. They were important to him.” She pushed out her bottom lip. “That must be why he left you his estate. He didn’t have to leave you a penny. No one knew you were his biological daughter. He could have endowed everything to Russ.”

Athena had heard enough. She jumped to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “Angus Crawford gave me the creeps. He still does, even if he’s dead. I’ve always known he was involved in what happened to my parents. That’s why he left me his estate—guilt. That’s the only reason.”

The doggie door burst open, and Otis squeezed through the opening. Tail wagging a mile a minute, he trotted to Athena and laid his shaggy head on her lap as if he sensed her distress.

She buried her face in his soft fur, breathing in his musky dog smell.

“I’m sorry, dear, but I’m having a hard time processing all this.” Clara wrung her hands. “We’ve talked about this. Angus didn’t harm your parents. What would he gain?”

“I don’t know, but you can be damn sure I’m going to find out.”

Clara’s cup clattered as she set it on the table. “Be careful, my dear. You may not like what you learn.” She pursed her mouth. “Sometimes the truth is worse than the not knowing.”