Heartwishes

  At twelve-thirty, she got a text from Joce.

  Did you hear Sara’s news?

  She typed back that she hadn’t heard anything about Sara.

  Joce wrote back:

  Call me or come over and I’ll give you lunch and tell all.

  It was the break Gemma needed. She practically ran to her car and was at Joce’s beautiful old house five minutes later. The door was ajar, so she pushed it open. She very much wanted a tour of the house, but from the cacophony it seemed that both babies were crying.

  Joce looked exhausted and frantic. “They’re dirty at both ends,” she said.

  Gemma didn’t reply, just took a baby and stripped him/her—it turned out to be a him—and plunked him down in a sink full of warm water. Like magic, he got quiet.

  Joce looked at her in awe.

  “My sister taught me how to do this.”

  For the next few hours, she and Joce worked like a team, with washing babies, feeding them, then washing again, and redressing. Joce never stopped telling Gemma thanks. When the babies were ready to go down for their second nap, it was three hours later.

  “Why don’t you lie down and take a nap yourself?” Gemma said to Joce. “I’ll listen for the babies and look after the house.”

  “I couldn’t allow that,” Joce said. “You’ve done too much already.”

  Gemma had to practically push her up the stairs, with Joce saying thanks at every step.

  While they slept, Gemma toured the house on her own and got the laundry done, cleaned up the kitchen, and put the living room back in order. When everyone was still asleep, she checked the fridge and found ingredients to make a meat loaf. She smiled as she worked, remembering Colin teasing her about her meat loaf, which she’d never made for him.

  At a little after five Joce came downstairs with two smiling babies in her arms. Gemma took one.

  “I can’t thank you enough for this,” Joce said as she looked in the oven window. “Sometimes I get so overwhelmed I can’t think. If it weren’t for friends like you I don’t know how I’d manage. I don’t know how Sara is going to cope. She knows so few people outside of Edilean.”

  “Are you saying she had her baby?”

  “Good heavens! You came over to hear the news and I forgot to tell you. Last night Sara had an emergency C-section and delivered twins.”

  Gemma quit bouncing the baby and stared at Joce. “Twins? Didn’t she have a sonogram so she knew how many kids she was having? Or did she just not tell anyone?”

  “She didn’t know. The second baby was positioned behind the front one in such a way that no one saw it on the sonograms.”

  Gemma was having trouble collecting her thoughts. “At the barbecue, Sara wished for . . .”

  “I know. She wished for twins.”

  Gemma sat down at the kitchen table, the baby held firmly to her. “Boy or girl?”

  “Two boys. Mike said he’s already ordered martial arts gear for them.”

  “How is he?”

  “Excited. Bewildered. Scared out of his mind.”

  “I wish—” Gemma began, then swallowed. “I mean, I hope that they come back here and live.”

  “Me too, but Mike has a couple more years to go before he can retire. Now that his friend Frank is going to be living here, he really wants to be here too.” Joce looked at Gemma. “You don’t think there really is anything to this Heartwishes Stone, do you?”

  “No, of course not,” Gemma said, but she didn’t sound convincing. She glanced at the wall clock. It was five-forty-five. “I have to go. I have a date with Tris at six.”

  “Date? But Colin—?”

  “Not that kind of date,” Gemma said. “A date to gain information.” She put the baby in her high chair and kissed her.

  “Let me know what you find out,” Joce called as Gemma ran to the front door. “And I’ll never be able to thank you enough for today. I feel like a new woman.”

  In his office, Tris greeted Gemma warmly, his hands on her shoulders as he kissed her cheek. He was wearing his white doctor’s coat and looked very professional.

  Four women were there, all of them looking at her in speculation—and as though they were ready to fight to protect Tristan.

  He led her back to his office and closed the door behind her.

  “Are they your harem?”

  “Pretty much,” he said as he took off his white coat. “At least they think they are. And besides, they think you’re stepping out on Colin.”

  “Or are they angry that I’m going out with you?”

  Tris chuckled. “Would you like to go to my house for dinner? I have a refrigerator full of food.”

  “I’d love to,” she said.

  As they left his office, she couldn’t help being glad when Tris told the women who worked for him that if he was needed, he’d be at home. “With Gemma,” he added.

  When they were outside, she said, “This is going to be all over town.” Somehow, that didn’t bother her. “Should I follow you in my car?”

  “Sure,” he said as he got out his keys.

  As Gemma followed Tristan in her car, she couldn’t help but be curious about where he lived. They went down a road she’d never seen before that seemed to go into the nature preserve that surrounded Edilean. They left the paved road and turned onto gravel, but when she still didn’t see a house, she began to wonder if he lived in a tent on vacant land. There was another turn, then they came to cattle bars, and he drove over them.

  To her left, through the thickly wooded area around them, she saw a sparkling blue lake with ducks swimming about. Ahead of her was the house. It wasn’t large, but it was lovely. Better yet, it was in an idyllic setting, with the lake directly in front of it.

  She stopped behind Tris and got out of her car. It was wonderfully quiet, with only the sound of birds and the wind in the trees. “This is gorgeous,” she said. “Have you lived here long?”

  “All my life, and my dad grew up here too. It’s called the Aldredge House and part of it is old. Not old by Edilean standards, no eighteenth century, but it was built in the 1840s.”

  “For that time period, shouldn’t it be a modified Colonial?”

  “I think it was, but generations of Aldredges changed it.”

  She walked toward the lake to look up at the house. It was two stories, with windows all along the front, and she saw a chimney above the roofline. She could imagine sitting by a fire on snowy days. On the far left was a low-roofed room that seemed to be all glass. “Is that a conservatory?”

  “Yes,” Tris said. “My ancestor who built the house was a master gardener.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ve been known to frequent a nursery now and then. Come inside and I’ll show you the rest of it. You have to tell me what’s old and what’s new.”

  “Ah! A challenge,” she said as she followed him in a side door. They went into a large hallway, with a tile floor and an oak staircase at the end.

  “Old,” she said, then nodded toward the door to the right, silently asking if she could open it. It was a large family room, with bookcases and a big TV, very cozy. It took only a glance to see that the room was newer than the hall and she told him so.

  Across the hall she opened a door to a long room that was wide on the right but narrowed at the other end where she saw the kitchen with its dark cherry cabinets. “This is old and I don’t think it’s always been one room. So how’d I do?”

  “Perfect,” he said. “My mother had the walls torn out on this side. Right after Addy was born, Mom told my dad that she wasn’t going to be stuck alone in the kitchen, and that if he wanted dinner on the table he damn well better let her see what her kids were up to. Two days later, the walls were down.”

  “I think I like your mother.”

  “Me too,” Tris said. “Can I make you a drink?”

  “Can’t. I’m driving, but if you have it, I’ll take a tonic water with lots of lime juice.”

  “Comi
ng up.”

  “Mind if I . . . ?” She nodded toward the door to the conservatory, and he waved his hand for her to go. It was a beautiful room that looked like a Victorian garden. And as she’d gathered from his self-effacing tone, Tris was also good at gardening. Plants—mostly orchids—were everywhere, hanging from the ceiling, in floor pots, all in a lush display that made her want to sit in one of the wicker chairs and read. What she liked best was that Tris didn’t confine the larger plants but had them growing out of the ground that surrounded the beautiful hand-painted tile on the floor.

  Tris handed her an icy drink. “This is the only room that no one has touched. My dad said it was the favorite room of my great, great, etc. grandmother who built the house, and that she spent most of her time here.” He leaned forward to remove a dead leaf from an oncidium orchid. “She was one of the women who had a baby with no husband.”

  “In normal circumstances, that wouldn’t be interesting, but since it’s been remembered for so long, I think there’s a story there. I’d love to hear more about her. What was her name?”

  “Louisa. I don’t know much about her, but Joce said she called my grandfather and talked to him about our family. He said that Louisa Aldredge’s child’s birth certificate said her brother and his wife were the parents.”

  “I’m sure that’s what was considered the proper thing to do at that time,” Gemma said. “So . . . Sometime in the 1830s or 40s Louisa Aldredge had a baby out of wedlock, had to give him up, so she built herself a house in the wilderness, and lived here all alone with her plants.”

  “You are as romantic as Sara,” Tris said, grinning. “I’ll have you know that when my dad remodeled these rooms, he found surgical instruments dating back to about the time the house was built. And there were also some toy trucks from about that time. My guess is that Louisa built so far out of town so her clients wouldn’t be seen going to a female doctor. And I think she lived here with her son.”

  “Sounds like you know quite a bit about her.”

  Tris shrugged. “Aldredges, male and female, tend toward medicine, so it wasn’t a big leap to figure it out. Now, to more important matters.”

  “The Heartwishes Stone?” Gemma said quickly.

  “I was thinking more in the lines of food. I have a housekeeper who comes in twice a week and brings me things she cooks at home. She likes to experiment, so I never know what’s waiting for me.”

  “Let me guess,” Gemma said. “She’s young and pretty and unmarried.”

  “Have you met her?” Tris asked, his eyebrows raised, and they laughed together.

  She couldn’t help her amusement at the way Tris pretended not to know that women fell over themselves over him. She’d seen grown women halt in the street when they saw him, and Tris would smile at them in a shy way, as though he had no idea why they were gaping at him.

  He opened the refrigerator door and began pulling out bowls that were covered with plastic wrap, and handed them to her. There were several vegetable salads, cold meat and chicken, and little cubes of cheese.

  As they unwrapped the food and put the bowls on the table, they talked. Neither of them suggested heating the meal. Gemma wanted to ask Tris about the Heartwishes Stone, but she also wanted to let him tell her in his own time.

  “So what’s with you and Dr. Burgess that you don’t trust him?” Tris asked as soon as they sat down at the table.

  “Nothing I can put my finger on, but I think maybe he might want to find out what he can about my research so he can publish it.”

  “You think the Fraziers’ family history will entice some editor to put it in print?”

  “You know very well what he’s after,” Gemma said.

  “Oh, that.” Grinning, Tris looked at his plate. “I think you’re right. He’s been grilling everyone in town about anything he can find out about the Stone. This morning Ellie said that if he tried to pry more information out of her, she was going to set his skinny butt on the slicing machine.”

  Gemma laughed. “He does have skinny legs, doesn’t he?”

  “Ellie said he was complaining that everyone in town is so secretive.”

  “And by that he means The Seven.”

  It was Tris’s turn to laugh. “So that’s what we’ve become, is it? Wasn’t there a movie about us?”

  “You mean The Magnificent Seven, and it had nothing to do with the lot of you.”

  “Maybe it will once you write about us,” Tris said. “This morning after you left, Dr. Burgess asked me about the robbery case Colin is working on, but I said, quite honestly, that I didn’t know anything.”

  “I hope the robbery will become the latest gossip around town and overshadow the Stone.”

  “I heard that there were a couple of break-ins and that kids probably did it,” Tris said.

  Gemma looked down at her glass. “I don’t know much more than you do.”

  “Did you hear about Sara?” Tris asked.

  “Yeah. Nice, huh?” Gemma was quiet for a moment, then said, “All right, enough chitchat. You said you think you found the Heartwishes Stone. I want to see it—if that’s possible, that is—and I want to hear every word of the story.”

  “Nell found it,” Tris said as he went to the side of the room and swung out a framed photo on a hinge to expose a little wall safe. He quickly turned the combination, took out what looked to be a lady’s silver compact, and handed it to Gemma.

  It was surprisingly heavy. As she examined it, she saw that it was pretty but scarred in the front, as though someone had pried it open. Based on her knowledge of history, the little case looked to be late Victorian or Edwardian. It wasn’t remarkable in the least, but rather plain.

  “My sister and Nell took a couple of screwdrivers and a chisel to open it.”

  “I understand curiosity,” Gemma said as she lifted the lid. The inside was filled with lead. She looked up at Tris.

  “Go on, take the top layer off,” he said.

  Gemma was able to get her thumbnail under the lead and peel it upward, the lead bending as she lifted. Inside was a pretty little necklace. There was a little gold cage holding a tiny chip of some kind of stone. Gemma held it up to the light. “Uncut diamond?”

  “Yes. I had my cousin Kim look at it, and it is a diamond, but it’s not worth trying to cut it into a shape.”

  Gemma kept holding it aloft and looking at it. It was pretty but oh so simple—and so much smaller than she’d imagined. And she’d seen it before. “This was on Landy.”

  “What an excellent memory you have,” Tris said. “I can see why you’re good at research.”

  “How did you get Nell to give this to you? You didn’t . . . ?”

  “Steal it? I should be so clever. I had to trade her two Helen Kish’s and one Heidi Plusczok for it.”

  “And they are?”

  “Doll designers. I swear that child is going to be a negotiations lawyer. And thank heaven for eBay or I never would have been able to get them.”

  Gemma kept looking at the necklace. “Where? When? How?”

  “I’d like to say it was my powers of deduction, but it was just a hunch. And I still don’t know for sure if that’s what the letter you found was talking about. Anyway, the day you were hurt, Nell said that Landy’s necklace was blinking.”

  “I remember her saying that, but I paid no attention to it,” Gemma said.

  “Me neither. Nell lives in a world of her own. But I guess my brain registered it. Remember when I had to leave the barbecue for Mr. Gibson’s heart attack?”

  “Of course,” Gemma said. That had been the day she was so angry at Colin—and it seemed like a lifetime ago.

  “By the way, it was an anxiety attack, and he’s fine now. I was quite annoyed at being called away, and I was planning to go back to the party. I called my sister at the hospital in Miami to see how her husband was. He’s fine, but Nell wanted to talk to me. She took the phone and went in the hall and started in on an incoherent story about her father
taking Landy’s necklace away from her and I had to save it.”

  “Why would he take his daughter’s necklace from her?” Gemma asked.

  “My brother-in-law thought it came from the church jumble sale. He thought it might be valuable and someone could be missing it.”

  “Nice guy.”

  “He is,” Tris said. “But the truth was that Nell had lied to her mother about where the necklace came from.”

  “Ahhhh,” Gemma said. “And the plot thickens.”

  “Right. My devious little niece stole the necklace from me.”

  “Okay, so now I’m confused. Wouldn’t you have noticed that you owned a necklace encased in lead and silver?”

  “I would have if I’d ever seen it. Nell told me over the phone that she just happened to find the necklace behind the man.”

  Gemma smiled. “I guess you know what that means.”

  “Oh yes. Every child who has ever lived in this house since it was built has been fascinated by ‘the man.’” He motioned for her to follow him as he walked toward the fireplace. On the far end of the big mantel, a four-inch square of wood had been inserted. On it was carved the profile of a handsome young man. He wore the stiff collar of the early nineteenth century, and his hair curled about his neck. His cheekbones were high, his chin firm. He looked almost exactly like Tristan.

  “An ancestor of yours, I take it,” Gemma said.

  “I assume so. I always thought he looked like my father, but my mother said he looks like all the Tristans. The name goes back a long way in my family. Anyway, no one knows who he is for sure, and as kids all of us wondered about him. One of our favorite rainy day things to do was to make up stories about him. Colin used to say he was a man who fought for justice in secret.”

  “That sounds like him,” Gemma said, smiling. “It’s my guess he was the father of Louisa’s son.”

  “That’s what I think too, but that wasn’t something the adults were going to tell the children, was it? Whoever he is, no one today knows for certain why he was chosen to be immortalized in the end of a fireplace. My mother wanted to take the tile out and frame it. She was always afraid it might catch fire, but Dad wouldn’t let her.” Tris looked at Gemma. “It’s a good thing she didn’t.” Reaching out, he touched the bottom left corner of the square, then the top right, then he pushed in the middle. The little square sprang open to reveal a hole inside the mantel.