The Marvels of Prairie Creek

Chapter Forty-Six

Summer Skye was twelve the year Jane was born. This alone sent Jane on an online quest to find her. She spent much of the afternoon searching, but had no luck finding any trace of the missing girl.

She knew it was crazy to think Summer might be her biological mother. Yet she searched anyway. What if Jane's adoption had taken place among family? Summer was her adoptive mom's cousin, after all.

First cousin, twice removed.

She compared Liberty's picture to the scowling teen Jane suspected was her birth mother. There was, perhaps, a slight resemblance. Was this girl Liberty's granddaughter? Could this be why Jane's parents had had little contact with extended family? Had they distanced themselves from the cousins, afraid she'd be reclaimed by those with closer ties?

And then there was the money.

Genevieve and Vivian had conspired to send Jane a check upon the death of her parents. Genevieve's explanation that it was recompense for a long-ago favor now seemed suspect. A kind note would have sufficed to the granddaughter of the woman Genevieve wished to thank. Why send so much money? Why add Jane to her will and double the amount? Was it really out of generosity? Or another reason entirely—entitlement to an inheritance? Prett and Genevieve had once commented on her resemblance...to whom? Other than the girl in her own photo, Jane hadn't come across anyone with her features.

Jane rubbed her forehead and sighed. She could drive herself crazy with these wild speculations.

I should just ask Genevieve.

But would the matriarch give her a straight answer? If Jane had learned anything these past few weeks, it was that the old woman held her own fair share of secrets.

She stared at the stack of boxes along the wall. Somewhere in there lay John and Vivian's research into Catherine. Pushing aside her mental exhaustion, Jane picked a box from the stack and dived into the papers within.

*****

Two weeks later, Jane still hadn't found anything new. The box she'd picked had contained documents regarding the Montgomery-Westfall oil and lumber businesses. Prett declined the task of determining what should be saved and what should be shredded, saying George would be better suited for the job. Jane suspected he just wanted to avoid her. With the Reverend around every day, Jane didn't get a chance to ask Genevieve any discreet questions.

Now she sat alone in the office. Genevieve was down for her nap and George had left on errands. When the doorbell rang, Jane stood to answer, but Holly bounded down the front stairs and beat her to it. A man's voice inquired and Holly replied, their voices muffled through the office's closed French doors. Holly accepted a large envelope and wandered out of the foyer, reading the address.

Jane returned to her chair with disappointment. She'd once had money to order things online, too. She missed the frequent deliveries.

She lifted the lid off another box and flipped through the labels: Land Deeds. Crochet. 1966 Buick Riviera. 1978 Taxes. Open House.

Either Vivian had developed dementia in her later years or whoever had boxed up the files hadn't bothered to keep them in any semblance of order.

Mineral Rights. Mother's Funeral. John's Life Insurance. Catherine.

Catherine.

A sharp pain shot through Jane's stomach. She pulled out the slim file. Inside was a yellowed newspaper clipping announcing Catherine's marriage to John Montgomery, Sr. along with folded papers that turned out to be divorce pleadings and the final divorce decree. The remaining item was their wedding photo: Catherine pretty and smiling, John Sr. proud and stern.