The Year of Chasing Dreams (40 page)

“Do you know the first thing I remembered when I came out of that coma?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You. It was like you were in my bloodstream, and firing off so much information I could hardly handle it. I knew what your skin felt like under my hands. What your hair smelled like. You were
my link to my past, a key. Other stuff came real slow, but not you, Ciana. You were fully there.”

She wept quietly.

“I’ll never leave again. I swear. I don’t know how all this is going to turn out. I just know I love you and need to be with you, no matter what.”

Her need for him was just as strong. “Morning’s coming soon.”

“Then just let me lie here with you until it does.”

They came down from the loft when the sky streaked gold and pink. The day was promising to be hot and humid. In the barn, the horses shuffled, neighed with Jon’s scent. He held Ciana’s hand, glanced over at the stalls, drew up short. “Whoa. What have we here?” He crossed to the stall that held the new colt.

“He’s a yearling named Notte. A gift from Enzo.”

Jon pulled back from Ciana, then his gaze swept the horse. “Any strings?”

She arched an eyebrow at Jon. “Tornado booty,” she said coolly. “He’s being thoughtful and nice and thought Notte might eventually add quality to your breeding and training business.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed, then relaxed. “A few years before we can begin breeding him. In the meantime, he eats.”

Testily she said, “I’ll plant more alfalfa and corn. Beauty of owning a farm.”

Jon looked contrite, gave Ciana a nod. “Beautiful horses. Beautiful women. The man has a good eye for both.”

They went into the trailer together, faced the others. Jon
apologized for leaving. “Back now,” Garret said. “Good thing. Someone’s bringing a horse out for you to look over and maybe board here.”

Jon poured himself a cup of coffee, squeezed in at the table. The atmosphere was subdued. Finally Alice Faye set out a plate of pastries, and said, “We all know what’s happened, so maybe we should talk about it. Problem’s not going away.”

Jon’s arm slid around Ciana’s shoulders. “Suggestions?”

Garret and Eden exchanged looks. “Spent some time surfing the Web and learned some things,” he told them.

“What things?” Ciana asked.

“You three”—he looked from Ciana to Jon and to Alice Faye—“have something at the ready that your grandmother never had. One of the perks of living in the twenty-first century. We have DNA testing. You can be tested and find out if you’re related.”

“You mean like on the
CSI
shows?” Alice Faye asked.

“That’s right.” Eden jumped in, as Garret had shown her the Web information and she’d read every word of it. “The test can establish any genetic links between Jon and Ciana. But it’s best if you get tested, too, Alice. That’ll settle everything once and for all.” When there was no response, Eden hurtled ahead. “It can be done at a clinic in Nashville. It’s painless. They’ll just swab the inside of your mouth, send it off, and you’ll get the results in the mail.”

For a minute Ciana wasn’t sure what was scarier—knowing, or not knowing. But not knowing had turned Olivia into a vengeful woman with a secret that had shaken three future lives.

“I’m in,” Jon said, gripping her hand.

“Me too,” Ciana said.

Alice Faye sat at rigid attention.

“The results are private, but there are home test kits,” Garret added helpfully. “But a lab seems more trustworthy to me.”

Ciana said, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Mom.”

“But it’d be more conclusive if I do it too.”

“Better,” Garret said. “It’s about you too.”

Alice Faye gave a look that spoke only of pain, deep and thorough. She buried her face in her hands. The AC units kept humming. The noisy stove clock ground out a faint buzz. After awhile, Alice Faye straightened. “I reckon it makes sense for me to be tested. Find out once and for all who my daddy was.”

Knowing once and for all
. Would this solve a problem? Or open the lid on a box of more? Ciana hoped that knowing was better than not knowing. The test would be conclusive. The future was not.

Jon drove to the clinic in Nashville with Ciana and Alice Faye sandwiched in the front seat of his truck. He turned on the radio, let it blare out country music, making conversation on the ride impossible. It didn’t matter because no one felt like talking. What was left to be said? Ciana had made an appointment, was told they’d first meet with a counselor, then samples of their DNA would be taken that would determine their genetic relationships.

Before driving off, Eden pulled Ciana aside. “Need to tell you something.”

Eden looked nervous and on edge. “Couldn’t bring it up at the table yesterday, but there’s something else that I learned from the Internet.” She wiped sweaty palms down her jeans. Ciana waited expectantly. Eden said, “Just to put your minds at rest, there’s no law against related people getting married in Tennessee. It’s one of nine states that allow even first cousins to marry.”

If the remarks were meant to give Ciana comfort, they
didn’t. “Didn’t know that. What about having children? That all right too?”

The genetics of inbreeding. “I think genetics matter more if you’re brother and sister.”

That idea didn’t free Ciana at all. Marrying kin held a taint that made her squirmy.

“No need to even think about that until you know for sure about your grandfather,” Eden said hurriedly.

It was like looking down a dark well and being unable to see the bottom. “I’ll keep it in mind,” Ciana said, heading toward the truck.

Once the truck left, Eden told Garret, “Hope this works out for them.”

“I do too.”

Eden slipped her hand into Garret’s. “Come with me. There’s something I need to do, and I want you with me.”

She led him to the barn, where they climbed up into the loft, and she opened the old trunk. She dug in one corner and pulled out a gray rectangular box wrapped in an old towel.

“Your mum’s ashes?”

“Time to scatter them. I should have done it sooner.”

“Don’t you want the others here when you do it?”

Eden thought about it, had even planned it that way. But now seemed like the perfect time. “I don’t think they need any more sad moments. Do you?”

Garret took the box and went down the ladder, Eden following him.

They went to the garden, with Soldier at their heels. The large garden had been blessed by sun and rain and was now lush with blooms and budding produce. Because it was early, there was a coolness in the air and a fragrance that Eden always associated with that time of the morning—fresh earth
perfumed with growing things. She stopped in the middle of the acre-sized garden. Tomatoes grew on one side, pole beans on the other. Red and green. Balance. “Here,” she said.

Garret opened the box and extracted a plastic bag, handed it to Eden. She cupped it in both hands, peered at the gray mass inside, knowing that this had once been her mother and that this tangible matter was all that remained. She had told herself she wouldn’t cry, so she bit her lip hard in order to keep the promise. She also realized that she had nothing to say. She looked at Garret. “I—I don’t have any words.”

He touched her hair. “They’re in your heart. You just have to dig them out.”

“What do the Aborigines do when someone dies?”

“Sometimes they cut themselves.”

The idea caused Eden to smile. “Already did that.”

“Then just let go.”

She carefully turned the bag, let the gray dust filter out. It was light, and an unexpected breeze caught it and sailed the powder away. She kept pouring a little at a time until the bag was empty and the blue sky and bright sun had turned the air brilliant and crystal clear once more. “Goodbye, Mother. I hope you’re at peace.” A lump clogged Eden’s throat.

Garret took the bag, stuffed it into the box, and hiked it up under his arm. His other arm went around Eden. They turned and trudged back toward the trailer, the dog close on their heels.

The clinic was located between a hospital and a courthouse, a dour beige building without personality. Inside, the place held no charm, just a front desk, a few chairs. The main business of the place was paternity testing to determine if any
given man had fathered a particular child. Ciana felt a pang for any kid who could be so easily classified to either receive or be rejected for child support, while the question, “Who’s your daddy?” could be answered conclusively in a few days’ time. One person would be happy, another not. DNA paternity testing, a double-edged sword.

The counselor who met with them in a tiny cubbyhole of an office was a man in his forties. He wore a lab coat, but the sleeves were too short and came off looking silly instead of professional. He explained about avuncular DNA testing, of how three potentially related people could be scientifically matched for comparison of genealogy. The three of them would have the inside of their cheeks swabbed, and the sample would be sent off to be tested for genetic markers. A forty-one marker test would be the most accurate, so that’s the one they paid to have.

A tech rolled a long cotton-tipped swab on the inside of Ciana’s cheek and popped it into a plastic tube and sealed it. Jon’s cheek swab was also quick. Ciana’s heart went out to her mother, who shut her eyes and held her breath for the tech when her turn came.

When the process was over, Jon asked, “How long before we know something?”

“Usually only takes a few days,” the counselor said. “But these results might take a few weeks because we’re going for a forty-one marker comparison. Takes a little longer.”

A few weeks, Ciana thought. Until then their lives were on hold.

The three of them returned to the truck. Heat had been building, so Jon turned on the engine and the AC and rolled down the windows. Heat waves shimmered off the asphalt
parking lot. Mesmerized, Ciana watched them dance like puppets on strings.

“Now what?” Alice Faye asked.

Jon shoved the gear handle into reverse. “Now we wait.”

At Bellmeade there was plenty to do while they waited. Two people showed up wanting Jon to help them work with new saddle horses, and he took on the jobs. Ciana was busy cutting and putting up early alfalfa hay and tending cornfields. Eden and Garret took over the garden, left Alice Faye to the trailer where she kept laundry and food prep going. And in a walk that became a ritual, Ciana went to the mailbox at the end of every day. After three days, Jon stepped beside her, took her hand. “Want some company?”