lived with Momma and Daddy and me, so it’s not as if you weren’t around when Daddy decided I wasn’t worthy of being a member of this family. He chose not to believe me when I told the truth. And the only way to get back into this family was to tell a lie.
“I don’t want to do that anymore. What I want is your apology. And you know what, even if I had done something bad with Colton, I’d want your forgiveness. But if I can’t even get an apology, how could I ever hope for forgiveness?”
She headed toward the door.
“Jessica, you come back here.”
She stopped and spoke without turning. “No. If you want to have a relationship with me, you know where to find me. You know what you have to do. Just apologize. That’s nothing more or less than Daddy wanted from me.”
She took a few more steps toward the door and stopped again, turning this time. “And one other thing. You should know that I’ve been offered a job in Miami, and I’m seriously considering it. So don’t wait too long. I might be gone soon.”
* * *
Professor Hawkins spent four hours excavating the “treasure” Topher and Jackie had discovered. The woman was so meticulous that the little boy quickly lost interest when he discovered there were no more jewels in the small hole. Eventually, Jackie had scampered off to climb the tree.
The Reverend also left early, excusing himself to finish tomorrow’s sermon. And Ashley left soon after that, needing to take care of her house guests.
Professor Hawkins widened the hole in the hope that more artifacts would be found, but nothing else turned up. She took half an hour to study a pile of ballast stones near the tree and confirmed the family’s suspicion that they had once been the foundation of Rose Howland’s cabin.
“I know it doesn’t seem like much, but it’s quite a find,” she said.
“I’m not sure the powers that be will be so happy about it though,” Topher said as he walked her back to her car.
The only salvageable portion of the box had been the brass hinges, but the inkwell and brooch were now safely in Professor Hawkins’s possession. She would take them back to Charleston and confirm the dates.
And then Ashley would have to decide what to do with the artifacts. By rights they should be donated to the museum the town was planning as part of the new City Hall.
Topher had only just learned the scope of the project, and he now understood why Jessica wanted to win the bid. The building would be large and include government offices as well as a museum and community meeting rooms.
Rose Howland’s letters should be displayed in the museum, and the truth about Rose and Henri needed to be further researched and ultimately revealed. It was time for people to accept the true history and not the story the Howlands had wanted told. The truth was that Rose Howland had defied her father at every turn.
Topher said goodbye to the professor and made his way back to the cottage, his mind turning toward Jessica now that it wasn’t otherwise occupied.
Had she returned from Miami?
Had she had a good time there?
Had she gone partying at some trendy place in South Beach? He could almost imagine her dressed in something sparkly, even though she usually dressed conservatively.
Boy, he’d love to buy her something expensive.
Damn. The itch was there, and he wanted to scratch it. But he had no hold on her.
So instead of calling her, he settled into his rocking chair with John Grisham’s latest book. He’d have to get used to this new life he was living.
An hour later, his phone rang. It was probably Erik, calling about the latest land deal, which was proving more expensive than either of them liked. But when he saw the caller ID, his heart soared. It was her.
An insane joy bubbled up inside him as he connected the call. “Hey,” he said, sounding exactly like the besotted idiot he’d become.
“Hi.” Her voice sounded tense.
“What’s the matter?”
“We’ve got a problem with the house.”
“Oh. What?”
“It’s kind of complicated. I thought maybe…” She stopped speaking midsentence, sounding awkward.
“What?”
“Well, I thought we could meet for dinner or something to talk about it. But, um…”
“What, dammit?” He ground his teeth as a familiar frustration surfaced.
“Sorry. I just don’t want to be seen meeting you at Rose Cottage—or any of the restaurants in town for that matter.”