Emma's Secret
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Text copyright © 2013 Steena Holmes
Published by Amazon Publishing
P.O. Box 400818, Las Vegas, NV 89140
ISBN-13: 9781477800669
ISBN-10: 1477800662
This book is dedicated to all those who fell in love with Emma and wanted to know more. Without you, there would be no story.
CHAPTER ONE
J
une 20
I found her.
I was driving in a neighborhood that I’d never visited before. I had been headed somewhere else, but now I can’t remember where. I’m not even sure how I got to be in that part of Kinrich—I rarely go there anymore unless it’s to my special spot on the lake. Jack thinks I was there for groceries, but I prefer going to Hanton for my shopping, even though it is farther away.
Call it fate or divine intervention or just a deep awareness. If my mother were here, she’d say it was God’s angels directing me, but God turned His back on me a long time ago. Or maybe it was the other way around. Either way, it was destined that I was to be there, at that time and place, for a specific reason.
My poor little girl was wandering all alone. I don’t know how she got to be so far from home or why she was alone, but I’m so glad I saw her as I drove by.
My sweet little Mary has come home!
No, not Mary. Her daughter. My second chance.
Such a brave little girl to be out by herself. She kept telling me that she wasn’t alone, that her small stuffed lion was watching over her. As I
buckled her into the backseat, she introduced me to her little toy, which she called Tiger. What a sweet little girl.
She didn’t talk much; only cried a little before she fell asleep. The poor thing must have been exhausted.
Jack was confused when I brought her home. She looked so much like Mary, almost her twin. Of course, we never knew Mary had a daughter; why would she tell us? Or rather, why would she tell me? But I can’t believe she’d let her little girl be out on the streets by herself. Jack wanted to call Mary, to find out why she never told us about her daughter, but I stopped him.
No. She’s now our little girl. Our second chance. God knew that she needed to be loved and that we were the perfect people. This is our gift.
She is our precious little Emmie.
Megan burrowed deeper under the covers, arms tucked tightly to her chest. She didn’t want to open her eyes. Not yet. The desire to hold on to her dream a little longer was too strong.
Instead of another nightmare of Emma disappearing, last night’s dream was as if her little girl had never been kidnapped. They’d gone for a picnic as a family; there was a cabin in the background and a field of flowers with butterflies flitting about. Emma was running among the flowers, her laughter filling the air as she and the butterflies danced. Peter sat beside her on the bright-red blanket—funny that she remembered its vibrant color. She could almost feel the soft wool beneath her legs and the gentle breeze upon her cheek.
Megan smiled to herself. She’d been so happy in her dream. Peter was with her, and Alexis and Hannah played off to the side.
But the part that held her eyes closed was the heavy feel in her arms and the soft cooing of a baby. Megan couldn’t see the baby’s face and didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl, but she knew the child was hers.
Once upon a time, they’d been a happy family, and if Emma hadn’t gone missing, maybe things would have turned out differently.
The sound of Emma’s laughter still rang in her ears. Such a beautiful sound. One she no longer heard very often.
Megan rolled over and patted the sheets but found them empty. Again. Lately, Peter had been leaving earlier than normal, not even waking her up for her run. She splayed her fingers across the sheets and realized he must have woken up some time ago; his usual spot was cool.
With a sigh, she rolled over and rubbed her eyes. When she opened them, she saw a solemn Emma staring down at her.
For a very brief moment, Megan wished for that happy little girl from her dream instead of the quiet one in front of her. Just as quickly, Megan pushed that thought away.
“Emma, sweetheart, why are you up so early?”
Emma shrugged and held out the book she’d been holding to her chest.
Megan mustered a smile as she swung her legs out of the bed and sat up. She saw the new recipe book she had bought the night before and left on the kitchen table. She preferred to do her shopping at night, leaving the girls at home and away from prying eyes. She hated the stares and sweet words of encouragement from those who meant well. Emma always tensed up. Megan didn’t like putting her daughter in situations like that.
With the kids on summer break, she thought it would be a good time to do some baking with them. Emma seemed to enjoy helping out in the kitchen, so when Megan had spotted the copy of
Kids Can Bake Too
while she had been out shopping, she didn’t
think twice about buying it, even though she had a cupboard full of cookbooks.
Megan glanced at the clock and groaned. She’d slept in and probably already missed Laurie for their morning run.
“It’s a little early to be baking, isn’t it?”
Emma shook her head and tendrils of hair escaped the braid Megan had plaited the night before. Her daughter’s brows furrowed, and Megan caught the way her fingers tightened around the book.
“Let me shower and have some coffee first, okay?”
A sparkle shone in Emma’s eyes, and a glimmer of the girl from Megan’s dream peeked through. Maybe it wasn’t too late to have that girl back.
To see the smile on Emma’s face was all it took for Megan to give in. It was a rare treat. The counselor said it would take time for Emma to readjust to her new life, but Megan hadn’t thought it would take this long. Emma needed time, the counselor kept saying. Time to grieve, time to accept the change in her life, and time to accept her new family.
That last bit was what hurt the most. They weren’t her
new
family. They were her
only
family. If Megan could, she would erase the last two years when Emma lived in that country farmhouse with an old couple who could barely take care of themselves. But if time was what Emma needed, then time was what she would get.
“Why don’t you pick out a recipe and wait for me downstairs?”
Emma turned on her heels and skipped toward the door. She paused before tilting her head and then gave Megan a questioning look.
“Promise, Mommy?”
Megan smiled. She couldn’t help it. Even though it had only been a month since Emma’s return, she still cherished every time her baby called her Mommy.
“Of course. I’ll be right down.”
She picked up the towel Peter had left on the floor of their bathroom. A month ago, her goal had been to find her daughter and heal the rift in her marriage. Now it was to help her daughter heal while continuing to look for a way to stop her marriage from crumbling.
Setting his cup of tea on the coffee table, Jack sat down in Dottie’s old chair and reached for the multitude of bags she kept to the side of it. Last week, he’d found a box full of knitted scarves, mittens, and hats tucked away at the back of the guest-room closet. He’d taken them into town and dropped them off at the Catholic church. The priest promised that they would find use in wintertime. It was hard getting rid of Dottie’s things, but he felt like he didn’t have much time left, and the last thing he wanted was someone else going through her things when he wasn’t around anymore.
The first bag he grabbed held balls of yarn. Pink, white, and yellow. Jack dug his fingers into the yarn and knew right away that these had been meant for Emmie. Dottie was forever knitting that girl homemade dresses and doll clothes. He considered tossing it all in the donation box, but something stopped him. He wondered whether Emmie’s mom knitted? Maybe she would appreciate the yarn. He could mail it to her and explain…what? That Dottie bought it to make Emmie things? That would not go over well.
