Under the Dog Star: A Rachel Goddard Mystery #4 (Rachel Goddard Mysteries) (41 page)

Rachel saw a flicker of amusement on Marcy’s face and felt like whooping in triumph. The numbness was wearing off. Maybe Marcy was ready to start connecting with the world around her.

“Don’t worry about anybody else,” Rachel said. “You need to concentrate on settling in and getting to know your grandparents and your father. I hope you realize how happy they are to have you and David here.”

“They seem nice.”

“They’re good people, Marcy. I know you don’t remember them, but they remember you, and they never stopped loving you.”

“David’s happy now.”

“And I hope you will be too.”

After another silence, Marcy asked, “Who am I now? Is my last name Porter? I’m not Marcy Hall anymore, am I?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Rachel placed an arm around Marcy’s shoulders and pulled her close. “The name might change, but you’re the same person you always were. So many people care about you and want you to be happy. I know it’s a big adjustment—it’s a
huge
adjustment—but please give your grandparents and father a chance to show you how much they love you.”

This had seemed the best outcome to Rachel, and only now was she beginning to see how difficult it would be for Marcy. Her uncle and a man she considered a brother had teamed up to kill the man she thought of as a father, her older sister had almost died, her uncle had locked her and her brother in a cage in a dark shed. She had gone from a white family to a black one, from a cold but comfortingly familiar home to one so different it might as well sit on another planet. The one thing Rachel didn’t pity Marcy for was losing the luxuries of the Hall household. Compared to a cold, loveless mansion with all the creature comforts, a humble but loving home was the hands-down winner.

A tap sounded on the open door. “You about ready to go?” Tom asked.

Marcy pulled away from Rachel’s embrace as if she’d been caught doing something forbidden.
How can I leave her here?
Rachel thought. She wanted to scoop Marcy up and take her home and be a mother to her.

Crazy thoughts. Crazy feelings. She had to surrender Marcy to her family and allow them to help her heal emotionally.

Rachel hugged the girl again, felt Marcy relax just enough to hug her back. “It’s going to be all right,” Rachel whispered. “It really is. And you can call me anytime you want to talk. I’ll be back to see you again. Lots of times.”

She forced herself to let go of Marcy and walk out of the room.

Abel and Lucinda Porter, their son Raymond, and their grandson David sat around a big table in the old-fashioned kitchen. A wonderful sweet aroma filled the room. Mrs. Porter had a cake in the oven, and all the ingredients for chocolate icing sat ready on a counter.

David and his father had been laughing, Rachel realized with a jolt. She wouldn’t have thought David was capable of it. He hardly looked like the same boy anymore, with a not-quite-believing-it elation replacing his habitual sullenness. He had what he wanted. He had his father back.

“Is Marcy all right?” Mrs. Porter asked Rachel. “Should I go look in on her?”

“She’s putting her things away. I think she just needs a little time to herself.”

“Well, then, I’ll let her be until dinnertime. I’m cooking up a treat for her. David tells me she can’t resist chocolate cake.”

“If we don’t get out of here,” Tom said, “you’re going to have me lining up for a piece.”

“I can make a chocolate cake,” Rachel said. “Let’s go home and I’ll prove it.”

“Dr. Goddard, before you leave—” Raymond stood and held out a hand to Rachel. “I want to thank you for going out to Leo’s place to find my children.”

She smiled and shook his hand. “I’m glad it’s working out for all of you.”

After a round of goodbyes and promises to get together again soon, Tom and Rachel took their leave of the reunited Porter family. As they walked out into the chilly autumn afternoon, Tom put an arm around Rachel. “I know this is hard,” he said, “but she’ll be all right. You believe that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I believe that. And sooner or later I’ll pull myself together and start acting like I believe it.”

They climbed into Tom’s pickup truck, which they’d used to cart Marcy and David’s belongings from the Hall house. A social worker had brought the children from the temporary foster home to the farm.

Rachel buckled her seat belt. “Did you tell the Porters about the trust fund?”

“No.” Tom turned the key in the ignition. “They’ll find out from Vicky Hall’s lawyer. It won’t affect the kids’ lives now, anyway. It’s for their college educations.”

“It’s the least Mrs. Hall can do for them, after the way she’s treated them.”

“Let’s be grateful she’s giving them up without a fight.” Tom drove down the driveway toward the road. “Soo Jin says Vicky’s tying up loose ends before she dies.”

Rachel expelled a sour laugh. “Loose ends? Is that how she sees two kids she stole from their family?”

“It’s over, Rachel.” Tom braked at the end of the driveway and reached over to brush her cheek with his palm. “You have to step back now and let it go.”

“I know. I’m trying, I really am.” She drew a deep, calming breath, let it out. Marcy’s plight had struck too close to home for Rachel and dredged up all the emotional turmoil of her own childhood. But she refused to wallow in it, and she had no reason to doubt that Marcy was in good hands.

Tom turned onto the road and they set off toward home. “It all worked out for the best. Leo’s gone. He can’t hurt the kids anymore. Ethan and Rayanne and Pete are in jail. The dogs are safe—”

“Thank you for not charging Jim Sullivan for working with Leo. He’s a good farm vet, and he doesn’t deserve to lose his career.”

“Leo forced him into it,” Tom said. “I don’t want to ruin the man’s life.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes. Rachel watched the hills and fields they passed and couldn’t help wondering how many more abandoned dogs would have to be rescued from starvation as winter took hold in the mountains.

“Rachel,” Tom said, “will you do something for me?”

“Of course.” She turned to him. “What is it?”

Tom reached for her hand. “Will you stop making a face every time you look at my mother’s wallpaper and just pick out what you want to replace it, so we can get started?”

Rachel almost laughed, but she stifled the impulse when she realized Tom wasn’t laughing. He glanced at her with eyes as solemn as the questions he hadn’t spoken aloud.
Can you think of my house as ours, as your home? Will you promise to stay with me?

For a moment the old panic gripped her, sucked the air from her lungs. She was a pretender, she wasn’t who she said she was. She could never forget that she had another life, a shadow life, suspended in time but always waiting to reclaim her. Would she ever stop feeling this loneliness, an ache so deep and familiar that she couldn’t imagine its absence? Her life before she met Tom had been so bizarre he couldn’t possibly comprehend what she’d been through, however much of the story she shared with him. He seemed to realize that. He hadn’t pushed her to tell him every detail. She had almost begun to believe he might love her even though there were dark places in her heart and mind he could never enter.

“Rachel?” he said softly, his hand gripping hers but his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “What do you think?”

“Blue,” she said. “Blue paint for the bedroom. I’m not sure yet about the rest. But no more flowered wallpaper. Please.”

Tom smiled, a slow sweet smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and lit up his face. “Let’s meet for lunch at the Mountaineer tomorrow. We can stop by the hardware store afterward and pick up some paint samples.”

“It’s a date.” How easy it was to make this huge commitment, she thought, even when she was scared to death she was going to do everything wrong.

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