In Strange Woods - Claire Cray Page 0,68

were a more meaningful way to reckon with a history like this.

“Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to hold onto the past here,” Beau mused, reaching out to tap his cigarette into an amber glass ashtray on the coffee table. “This land is haunted by people who were robbed of their chance to be remembered. What gives us the right to lay our history in their place?”

“Like a curse, you mean?”

“No, no. Not a curse. These woods are full of as much love as sorrow. They’ve taken care of me all my life, and many others. They even brought you back to me.”

“But why were we split up in the first place?” James insisted, frustration tightening like a band around his chest. “Why didn’t we grow up together? Why did Ruth come here to give birth, and how did we end up with two different women? And why didn’t anyone ever tell us?”

Beau watched him with a faint, rueful smile before stubbing out his cigarette with a shake of his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “And at this point, I can’t promise anyone does.”

It sounded like Beau was content to dwell in the realm of mystery. James wasn’t sure he could do the same. Despite the exhilaration of their reunion, the thought of never knowing the truth of it all—the reasons behind Grace’s choices or why she’d hidden so much from him—was so heavy on his soul that it was starting to sink again.

“James,” Beau murmured with a look of concern, running a hand gently through his hair. “You’re here now. Isn’t that what matters?”

“Why did she do it?” James demanded, his eyes brimming with tears again. “Why would she take me, pretend to be my mother, leave you here and never tell me? And lie about where we came from, and not give me a chance to…”

“I know.” Beau wrapped an arm around him with a sympathetic murmur. “I’m sorry. I wish we could ask her.”

James nodded, trying hard not to start crying again.

“Grace would have had her reasons,” Beau said softly, rubbing his arm. “Her father had lost his mind. That’s why they ran, why they were hiding here. That’s why they didn’t tell anyone where they were. They were scared of him and what he might do. And Grace, a teenage girl—to watch her mother die like that, alone in the woods with two infants…surely she did the best she could.”

James nodded again tearfully, overwhelmed by the feelings swirling inside of him. The unending pain of losing his family, the unbelievable joy of finding Beau, the desperate need to make sense of it all. “Can you tell me more?” he asked. “Anything you’ve heard about Ruth and Grace and what happened that day?”

“Sure.” Beau’s hand moved to the nape of his neck, stroking his hair with a tender look. “I suppose it started the day Ruth married Robert because she was pregnant with Grace. Charlie once called it the biggest mistake he’d ever had to watch someone make.”

“Who is Charlie? You called him grandpa?”

“Daisy Ann’s father. Ruth’s uncle. If Ruth is our mother, that makes him our great-uncle. But I called him my grandpa, yes, and he took care of me whenever Daisy Ann disappeared.” Beau’s eyes drifted off, as if wandering through memories. “Ruth was set to inherit this land. Robert thought he was marrying into a fortune. Of course the Woodstocks have been cash poor for generations now. There’s no money in timber while it’s standing. But he thought he’d bide his time. The year we were born, 1993, Ava Woodstock had died and left it all to Ruth. Robert thought payday had arrived. But she refused to cash in. Not one acre, not one tree. Apparently, Robert exploded. Maybe that was why she left. Or maybe it was because she was pregnant, and it wasn’t his.”

“He’s not our father?”

“No. Robert was in a car accident just after Grace was born. Everyone knew he couldn’t have any more children. But no one knows who the other man was. They were living in Salem at the time. Just past the end of the Creek County grapevine.”

James nodded slowly. Grace had been honest, then, about not knowing who his real father was. “So she hid the pregnancy and ran.”

“So it appears. Robert denied knowing she was pregnant, and so did everyone else they knew.”

“Then what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Beau said with an apologetic look. “According to Charlie, he came by for a fishing rod he’d left