Cut and Run(55)



“I can’t imagine Sierra allowing a rift between you and a sister to stand.”

“As sick as she was, she was very clear and direct about that.”

“Have you and your sister worked through it?”

“Neither one of us is good with talking through our feelings. I suppose any shrink would advise that we delve deeper. But we do okay. We have each other’s backs.”

Faith pulled her sunglasses from her purse and slid them on. “I’m not a fan of all the introspection. And I’ve done more of it in the last few days than I have in my entire lifetime.”

“Maybe it’s like anything else. The more you do it, the easier it gets.”

“We shall see.”

“What was it like growing up with your parents?”

“I was close to my mother, but she died when I was fifteen. Dad and I were never close but looked out for each other until I went to college. We kept up at holidays and during vacations after that.” She traced the lifeline on her palm, noticing for the first time that its base was forked.

They drove in silence the remainder of the journey, and when he pulled up in front of the hospital, she removed her sunglasses and carefully replaced them in her purse. “Feels silly to sit and talk to an unconscious woman. No way of knowing if she can hear me, but I have to believe I’m making a difference for her.”

Light caught the hard edge of his profile. “When my wife was dying and drifting in and out of consciousness, I talked to her a lot. Even the last few days when she never woke up. But I believed she heard me. I believed she knew she wasn’t alone at the end.”

Faith tightened her hand on the strap of her purse. “I miss Sierra. She had the most biting sense of humor. The shelter board meetings were always more fun when she was there. Whenever we had a budget meeting, she always brought doughnuts. Her favorite was chocolate glazed.”

“I forgot about that.” He gripped the steering wheel. “No one really talks about her anymore.”

“If you ever want a Sierra story, ask me. I’ve got a few. We got into our share of trouble once or twice.”

“Trouble?”

This conversation was more personal than sex, but Faith wasn’t sure how she felt about bonding. “I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

“Counting on it.”





June 1, 1988

I held you in my arms today, minutes after you were born. The stars in the sky were bright and clear as I carried you away from the ranch toward the future you were destined to have. I named you Faith, because I have faith that what I did was right. You will have a bright future, and I will always protect you.

Love, Daddy





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Wednesday, June 27, 4:00 p.m.

Faith got out of the car and hurried into the hospital toward the elevators to Macy’s unit. She waved to the nurses in the small office behind the station as they gathered around platters of food. They were laughing, smiling. She nodded to one she recognized from yesterday and headed toward Macy’s room.

Until a DNA test was run, Faith couldn’t technically be considered Macy’s family, but when the nurse looked up at her, she said cheerfully, “Your sister made it through the day. She’s a strong woman.”

Sister. The word felt natural.

“Good. Can I see her?”

“Sure. Don’t stay long.”

“Did she have any other visitors today?”

The nurse checked her computer. “Standard hospital personnel visited this morning.”

“And they all checked in with the police guard?” Anyone could put on scrubs and blend into a hospital setting.

“I assume so. There didn’t appear to be any issues with the guard on duty.”

“Did anyone stay long?”

“They all stayed less than five minutes.”

“Thank you.”

As she turned she heard, “Faith?”

Margaret Slater was dressed in a pale pink skirt and matching jacket. Her graying hair was pinned into a stylish twist, and her delicate diamond earrings sparkled. Her gaze was quizzical as she stared at Faith. “Did we have a meeting here today?”

“No.” She thought back to the email she’d sent to Margaret regarding the fundraiser, and it felt like a million years ago. “Are you here for the fundraiser?”

“You know me—I’m always planning.” Margaret kissed Faith on the cheek. The older woman’s trademark soft perfume wafted around them. “I’m meeting with the head of the department. We’re setting a date for next year’s gala. What are you doing here?”

“Visiting a friend.”

“Who on earth do you know that’s here?” Margaret glanced toward the uniformed officer in the hallway. “They’re protecting someone. Is that who you’re here to see?”

“I can’t discuss this, Margaret.”

“You’ve always been able to tell me everything.”

“And I will when I can.” She had been afraid to ask Margaret about her adoption but now was too desperate for answers to not ask. “Margaret, what do you know about my adoption? Mom and Dad never talked about it, and I just thought since you knew them then that you might know.”

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