Nine

“But,” the woman went on, “I can get in touch with his daughter and ask her to call you. We know her quite well. She’s been coming to visit him at least once a week during the five years he was here.”

Ginny gasped. “Natasha’s alive?”

The woman laughed. “Alive? That one is more than alive. She’s one of the bubbliest people I’ve ever known. All our residents’ eyes light up when she comes to visit, and you should hear her sing. She has a voice like a nightingale. I’ll be seeing her later today. Even though her father has passed away, she’ll still volunteer a number of hours here each week. In addition to singing and entertaining our residents, she reads to those whose eyesight is waning. We all love Natasha.”

His brows raised, Beemer poked Ginny in the arm. “What? What’s she saying?”

Ginny covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “Natasha is alive, and the nurse is going to have her call us!”

“Give me your phone number, and I’ll make sure Natasha gets in touch with you, Miss—”

“Markham. Ginny Markham.” Ginny gave the woman her number then thanked her for her help. “We’ve found her, Beemer. We’ve found Aunt Margaret’s daughter!”

Both Ginny and Beemer watched the clock impatiently, waiting for Natasha’s call. When it came, Ginny answered, then, after exchanging greetings with the woman, advised her she would be putting her on speakerphone so Beemer could join in the conversation.

“I’ve always wanted to find my mother,” Natasha told them, and it was obvious she was crying. “Now I’ll never have a chance to see her. My father was a wonderful man, but he was very tight-lipped when it came to my mother. All he would say was that she didn’t want me. I guess, knowing I wasn’t wanted, I never put forth the necessary effort to find her. Now that it’s too late, I wish I had.”

“She loved you, Natasha,” Ginny told her, remembering how lovingly her aunt had mentioned her name. “Your birth came at an awkward time in both your father’s and mother’s lives. I don’t know how much he told you, but Aunt Margaret ran away from home at a very young age, with stars in her eyes and high hopes of becoming a dancer on Broadway. That’s where she met your father. He was older and wiser and extremely talented, and she fell head over heels in love with him. Then you came along.”

“I guess I ruined her career,” Natasha said sadly.

“From what we learned in the letter our aunt left,” Beemer explained, “you were only a few months old when your father put you in your stroller and said he was going to take you for a walk.” He glanced at Ginny then cleared his throat. “He—he never came back, Natasha. Aunt Margaret never saw or heard from you or your father again. It nearly killed her not knowing where you were.”

“She said he took me and left? Without telling her?”

Ginny winced. She hated saying anything that would mar this woman’s saintly image of her father, but Aunt Margaret had a right to have her side told, too. “It’s all documented in a letter she left for us. We also have a shoe box full of letters she wrote to you over the years, but she never knew where to mail them.”

“You need to come here to Hendersonville, Tennessee, Natasha, read these letters, and talk to the attorney who is handling your mother’s will.” Beemer’s voice echoed the irritation Ginny felt that Natasha’s father had kept the truth from her. “Perhaps you grew up believing your mother didn’t love you and didn’t want you, but she loved you enough to leave one-third of her estate to you.”

“She even kept a tiny baby ring engraved with your name in it, in hopes of one day finding you and giving it to you,” Ginny added, hoping Natasha would accept Beemer’s invitation.

“I’ll come,” Natasha said resolutely. “I’ll get the first plane out that has a seat available. You said Hendersonville, Tennessee?”

“Yes, but plan on flying into Nashville, and Ginny and I will pick you up. Just give us the time your flight will arrive.”

Ginny smiled at Beemer. For sure, he was one of the good guys.

“You said you were my mother’s niece and nephew?” Natasha asked.

Beemer chortled. “Yes, we’re all cousins, just not blood cousins. Harold, who was really my uncle, took me in when my parents, his brother and sister-in-law, decided they didn’t want me, so I know how you feel. I barely remember my parents, not that it’s any loss.” He gestured toward Ginny. “Ginny’s your mom’s sister’s child. This whole thing’s kind of complicated. Does what I’m saying make any sense?”

A slight laugh sounded on the other end. “I think I’ve got it.”

“Aunt Margaret asked Beemer and me to come and take care of her so she could die at home,” Ginny added. “We’ve been here for nearly a month. She was a wonderful woman, Natasha. We loved her very much. I just wish you could have known her.”

“I do, too, especially after hearing all you’ve told me about her. I guess any story always has two sides.” Natasha hesitated. Ginny thought perhaps she was crying. “I’ll call the airline and then call you right back. I babysit my three great-grandchildren while their parents work, so I won’t be able to stay long. Thank you both for being there for my mother when she needed you, and thank you for going to all the trouble to track me down. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

They told her good-bye, then closed the connection.

At ten o’clock the next morning Ginny and Beemer stood at the exit gate at the Nashville airport waiting for Natasha. They recognized her the moment she entered the gangway. Other than being nearly twenty years younger than their aunt, she was the image of her.

After they hugged one another, Beemer picked up her bags, and they drove to the house on River Road.

“I love this house,” Natasha told them after they’d given her a tour of all the rooms in the stately old redbrick home. “It’s decorated exactly as I would have decorated it. Isn’t that uncanny?”

“Naw, it’s in the genes.” Beemer slipped his arm around her shoulder and steered her back into the living room. “You look and act so much like her that it almost seems she’s here with us. Even your voice sounds like hers.”

“He’s right. You are like her.” With tears in her eyes and a heart filled with gratitude toward God for leading them to her, Ginny motioned Natasha to a chair then placed the shoe box filled with letters in her lap. “Once you read these, I think you’ll feel as if you know your mom.”

Ginny took the ring from the box on the table where she’d set it earlier and stared at it. Her aunt, the woman she’d thought of as perfect, had given birth to a baby out of wedlock and then had to let her go. What a horrible secret to have kept all those years. What guilt she must have carried. Ginny could only imagine how many times Aunt Margaret had held that precious little circle of gold in her fingers, weeping and wondering if her baby had lived or died, if she was happy, maybe even had children of her own.

“I hope so. You have no idea how I’ve longed to see her. I’ve had so many questions. I loved my father, but I always wondered if he was telling me the whole truth.”

“Your mother was a wonderful woman. At that time she had little money, but she purchased this precious ring for you right after you were born and had your name engraved in it.” Blinking hard, trying to suppress the tears that ached to be released, Ginny reached out and touched the circle of gold. “You were too small to wear it safely then, so she was saving it for you until you were older. She never got to give it to you, but she kept it all these years, hoping one day she’d find you.”

Natasha tenderly took the ring and slipped it onto the tip of her little finger. “I wish she had found me. I love it and will keep it always.”

Catching Ginny’s eye, Beemer nodded toward the kitchen. “I don’t know about you ladies, but I’d like a good cup of coffee. Ginny, why don’t you help me put the pot on to brew so Natasha can have a little time to read her mother’s letters. Maybe she’d like some privacy.”

Dabbing at her eyes with a tissue from her pocket, Natasha gave Beemer a weak smile. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

That evening they ate dinner together at a nice Italian restaurant. “Don’t forget we have an appointment at your mother’s attorney’s office at ten in the morning,” Beemer reminded Natasha later when they were back at the house. “This has been a long day. You ladies are probably both tired so”—he winked at Ginny—“I’m going to my apartment. I’ll pick you up about nine thirty.”

Both Ginny and Natasha walked him to the door. He kissed each one on the cheek, said good night and left.

“We’ve been so busy talking about Aunt Margaret, I’m ashamed to admit I haven’t even asked you about your family,” Ginny said, showing Natasha to the room Mrs. Hawkins had so recently vacated. “You mentioned great-grandchildren?”

Natasha’s expression brightened. “Yes. I have four sons and four lovely daughters-in-law and six of the most beautiful, intelligent grandchildren the world has ever known, plus three equally brilliant great-grandchildren.” Sobering she added, “I only wish my family could have known my mother.”

Ginny sighed as she turned back the covers on the bed, remembering all the wonderful times she’d had with her aunt. “So do I, Natasha—so do I.”

The attorney had the paperwork lined up on the desk when they walked into his office the next morning. After introductions he reread the same parts of the will he had read to Ginny and Beemer then explained in layman’s terms exactly what it meant, even the part about the house going to Beemer and Ginny if they decided to marry.

Natasha gasped at his words. “You two are engaged?”

Beemer held up his hand. “No! Ginny and I are—good friends at this point. We—”

He seemed to be struggling for words, so Ginny explained. “This marriage thing was our aunt’s idea. Since we were her only living relatives, and knowing we weren’t cousins by blood, she came up with the idea of playing matchmaker and getting the two of us together.”

Having apparently gathered his thoughts, Beemer jumped back in. “She asked us both to move into her house and care for her so she could die at home. She needed the help all right, but the matchmaking was the most important part of her plan.”

A smile played at Natasha’s lips. “Her plan didn’t work?”

Ginny felt heat rise to her cheeks. “We’ve become good friends, and we have a great time together, but that’s about it. Beemer and I—well, we’ve both been hurt in the past by those we thought loved us, so at this point neither of us is ready for a serious commitment.” That was an evasive, clumsy answer, she told herself, avoiding a glance at Beemer. She hoped Natasha would let the subject drop.

“If at the end of a year Beemer and Ginny do not marry, the house will be sold and the proceeds divided equally among the three of you,” Mr. Barlow told Natasha. “Your mother was quite specific as to her wishes.”

After asking a few more questions and signing several papers, Ginny, Natasha and Beemer thanked Mr. Barlow and headed back to the River Road house.

Once inside, Natasha pulled a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed at her eyes. “Why would my mother be so generous with someone she barely knew? From what you’ve told me, and what I read in those precious letters she left me, I was probably only two or three months old when my father took me away from her.”

Ginny clasped Natasha’s hand in hers. “You were her baby. Her own flesh and blood. The only child she ever had. Wouldn’t you feel the same way if one of your sons had disappeared when he was three months old?”

Natasha nodded. “Yes, of course I would, but one thing puzzles me. Why did my father do such a thing? From all that you’ve told me, and the things I’ve read, my mother was a wonderful person. What happened between them that made him do something so irrational? Was it her fault? His fault? I wish I knew.”

“Maybe it’s best if you don’t know,” Beemer said.

Ginned nodded. “Beemer’s probably right. It all happened so long ago. They were both young and immature. People change over the years. Sometimes regretting what they did in the past, yet not knowing how to make up for it. Maybe that’s what happened with them.”

Natasha gazed off in the distance. “I missed so much, not having a mother.”

“Your dad never married?”

Natasha looked at Beemer. “No. He raised me alone. So many times I wanted to sit him down and demand to know what really happened, but I never did. Then he developed Alzheimer’s, and what past he could remember was muddled up in his mind. By the way, how did you locate him?”

Beemer explained about their attempts using the Internet. “Then my cuz suggested we try a different search engine, and there he was. Featured in an article on the Willow Creek Web site about four people celebrating their birthdays. One phone call, and here you are.”

“Praise the Lord for the Internet,” Ginny added. “I’d prayed and prayed we’d find you.”

Natasha grabbed hold of Ginny’s arm. “You’re a Christian?”

Ginny nodded. “Sure am. I turned my life over to God years ago. So was Aunt Margaret. She was one of the godliest women I know.”

“I am, too! I tried to lead my father to the Lord so many times, but he wouldn’t have any part of it. I’m afraid he died without making his peace with God.” She turned to Beemer. “I guess that means you’re a Christian, too.”

Ginny drew in a breath.

“Not exactly.” Beemer cast a glance her way. “But I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately.”

That’s progress, Ginny thought, hoping Beemer was serious and not making small talk.

“You can’t just think about it, Beemer. You have to make a decision.” Natasha’s voice was firm yet kind. “God wants us to come to Him, but He never forces anyone to do His will. No one can make that decision for you. I learned it the hard way.”

Ginny frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I was always a good person. You know, a good wife, good mother, good and helpful friend. I couldn’t believe, no matter what the Bible said, that God would keep me out of heaven if I didn’t become a Christian. I’d seen people who claimed to be Christians who weren’t half as good as I was. Then, when I was forty-three, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and was terrified. I suddenly realized I knew all about God, but I didn’t know Him. What if, since I hadn’t committed my life to Him, He didn’t hear my prayers? A verse I’d learned as a child kept niggling at my brain. I couldn’t remember the entire verse, but I did remember the part about His knowing His children, hearing their voice and calling them by name. As I faced the fact that I might die from my cancer, I began to see things in a different light. Almighty God created the world, He created me, and He made the rules. Who was I to defy them? Not to follow them? Even a famous ballplayer gets thrown out of the game if he doesn’t follow the rules. Weren’t God’s rules so much more important than those?”

Ginny sneaked a peek at Beemer, fully expecting to see a disgruntled look on his face with all this talk about God. Instead his gaze was fixed on Natasha, as if he were hanging on her every word.

“I’d never thought of it that way,” he finally said, still looking at Natasha. “Though my aunt and Ginny were always talking about God and why I should accept Him, no one ever explained it that way before.”

Ginny felt her heart pound against her chest. Maybe there was hope for Beemer after all. This was the most interest he’d ever expressed in anything having to do with God and the Bible.

Beemer glanced at his watch. “If we’re going to get you to Nashville in time for you to go through security, we’d better move along. Is your overnight bag packed?”

Natasha nodded. “Yes, it’s in the front hall, but I hate to leave. There’s so much I want to know about the two of you. You must come and visit me in Wyoming. I want you to meet my family and them to meet you.” She grinned toward Beemer. “Maybe, if anything develops between the two of you during this year, you can come to Wyoming for your honeymoon.”

Ginny, embarrassed by her words, forced a laugh. “Don’t count on it. We’re both pretty stuck in our ways.”

Natasha smiled back. “I’ll pray about it.”

“I wish you lived closer. I really miss Aunt Margaret. Being with you is like having her here. The resemblance is uncanny.” Beemer picked up her bag and started for the door. “We’ll have to keep in touch.”

Natasha touched his arm fondly. “Yes, we will. Now that we’ve found one another we’ll have to make up for lost time. Maybe you two could come and spend Christmas with us.”

Ginny looped her arm through Natasha’s. “I’d love to spend Christmas with you. I’ll bet Beemer would, too.”

Beemer nodded as he held the front door open. “Yeah, I sure would. I’ve never been to Wyoming. Maybe your sons could teach me to snow ski.”

“Then it’s a date. Mark it on your calendars. We’ll have a great time together.”

Ginny’s heart sang as she followed them to Beemer’s truck. Though she’d lost Aunt Margaret, she still had family.

“Well, kiddo, we found her.” Beemer wrapped his arm about Ginny’s shoulders as they walked across the Nashville airport parking lot after seeing Natasha off.

“Aunt Margaret would be proud of us.” Ginny climbed in his truck and fastened her seat belt while he rounded the front and stepped into the driver’s side.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about what Natasha said. That woman has a good head on her shoulders.” Beemer fastened his seat belt then turned the key in the ignition. “That Pastor Kenneth Peterson is a good guy. I’ve been thinking a lot about some of the things he said at Aunt Margaret’s funeral. You know, about being ready to face eternity and accepting God on His terms. Then when Natasha explained about God making the rules, it all came together and made sense to me. You’ve said many of the same things, just not in the same way.”

Ginny’s heart leaped. Was this the beginning of the answer she’d been praying for?

They drove a few miles before he pulled the truck to the side of the road, bringing it to an abrupt stop on the shoulder. After shifting into park he turned to face Ginny, his expression more serious than she’d ever seen it. Tilting her face toward his, he stared into her eyes. “Ginny, I’m tired of fighting the tug I’ve felt on my heart. I’ve decided it’s time I accept Christ as my Savior like you and Aunt Margaret did.”

Excited and about to burst with happiness, Ginny wanted so much to say something, to shout with joy, but a voice deep within seemed to tell her to keep silent, to let Beemer talk.

“Seeing the way our aunt joyfully faced death and looked forward to spending eternity in heaven touched my heart deeply. I want to be as sure as she was so that when my time comes I’ll be ready.”

Her heart overflowed with delight and praise to God and the way He had used the tragedy of her aunt’s death to speak to Beemer. She cupped his hand in hers and held on tight. This was the moment she’d been praying for. “One of my favorite verses is from First John. It says, ‘If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’ That says it all, Beemer. We have to have faith and trust to accept Him and His word.’”

“It’s that simple? Do I have to confess my sins out loud?”

Ginny couldn’t help but smile. “No, just in your heart. God can hear your innermost thoughts.”

Shedding tears, Beemer lowered his head and, mouthing the words inaudibly, began to talk to God. Ginny watched quietly, her joy exceeded only by her expectations for his future as a Christian.

When he finished, he smiled at her, his face aglow. “Thanks, Ginny. I’ve needed to do that for a long time. I guess my pride kept me from it. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to have things settled with God. I honestly want Him to take over and rule my life.”

God, thank You, thank You, thank You! Ginny cried out within her heart.

But her enthusiasm was short-lived.