the number. When Noah answered, she said, “I’ll be there Saturday afternoon,” and then hung up before he could say anything. She didn’t need his thanks, or even twice what she was making. She just needed a lot less guilt about not making a bigger effort to visit or call Miss Janie and a lot more peace in her heart, and once her decision was made and she’d given her word, she had both.
The day started off well, and there didn’t seem to be many good days anymore. At least not since Noah had moved into the big old rambling two-story house with Miss Janie. Ever since the doctor discovered that she had a rare form of bone cancer a few months ago, the dementia seemed to be on a fast track.
Thank God Teresa had said she’d come back to Birthright and help. At least he hoped that her terse phone call had been serious and that she really was going to show up that day. Once he had her number, he’d tried to call her back a couple of times, but she hadn’t answered.
“I love this screened porch and the smell of roses.” Miss Janie took a long breath. “I was scared when Mama said I had to come here to live, but I’m glad she did. Aunt Ruthie was a wonderful person. Did I ever tell you about my girls?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am, and I believe they might be coming home soon.” Noah knew he was her only living relative, which was why he’d come home to Birthright, Texas, to stay with her.
“They had beautiful black hair,” Miss Janie sighed.
There was a moment of silence, and then she went on. “And even though folks say that a baby’s eyes change from when they’re born, I know they stayed brown like their father’s. He was a very handsome boy. I want to see my girls before I die, and I don’t care how much money you spend to find them.”
“They’ll be home soon. It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?” Noah tried to steer the conversation away from the girls. When she mentioned the two girls she had fostered, she got weepy. To see his sweet great-aunt cry broke his heart.
She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Why are you still here anyway? I hired you to find my girls, not make my breakfast.”
“I’m your great-nephew, Noah. I used to come see you fairly often,” he said gently.
She narrowed her eyes and stared at him for several more seconds. “You’re Luther’s grandson, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Luther was your brother, and his son was Adam. I’m Adam’s son, Noah,” he explained like he did at least twice a day.
“Adam and Noah, just like in the Bible. Daddy used to preach about those two men, and David and Daniel. Were they twins like my girls?” she asked. “I have trouble remembering what Daddy said about them.”
“No, they lived in different times,” he told her.
“I wanted to keep my girls.” She teared up. “In those days we didn’t get an option about keeping our babies.”
Two years ago, when she’d been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, she’d told him about the twin girls she’d given away at birth and had insisted that he find them for her. He’d had to jump through a few hoops, but he finally located them—in El Paso, Texas—and found out that they’d died together in a car wreck when they were twenty-five years old. One had been married two years without any children; the other one had still been single.
When he’d told her about her daughters, Miss Janie had wept for a week, and then one morning she’d come out of her bedroom and asked him if he’d found her girls. He was hoping that when Teresa came back to Birthright, if she did, Miss Janie would forget all about the babies that she’d birthed and concentrate on at least one of the girls she had fostered when they were teenagers.
Janie’s gray eyebrows knit together, and she tilted her head to the side. From the few pictures that Noah had seen of her, she’d once had brown hair. Now her thin hair had grayed, and her blue eyes had faded, as if so many of the memories of her life had washed out from her mind. “What month is it?”
“Today is the first day of August and it’s Saturday,” Noah replied. “It’ll be fall pretty soon, and then winter will come on fast after that. Then it will be too chilly