His Family

Her brow furrowed as she came to see that as a possibility.

“It could have happened any number of ways,” he went on, subtly reeling her in. “Did you ever move when you were growing up?”

“Twice,” she replied. “Friends of my father’s helped us.”

“Could have happened then. The boxes fell over, and the lids got mixed up. Or maybe one of your parents adding something to the boxes inadvertently did it.”

She stared into his eyes with a sort of horrified awe. “That’s…grasping at straws.”

“Is it?” He held the branch for her when her fingers grew lax and a branch was about to scratch her face. “You were convinced by the old clippings that they must have been intended for you. But since the test proved that wrong, then the other possibility doesn’t seem that far off, does it?” He let that sink in for a minute. “If the clippings weren’t for you, then who else is there?”

CHINA WOULD HAVE liked to push him onto the fragrant grass. Since the day she’d first set eyes on him, he’d stood determinedly in her way. He didn’t believe she was his little sister returned; didn’t believe she wanted no money, just family; blocked at every turn her attempts to be friends with him. Even now, when all she wanted to do was leave, he put up another roadblock.

She didn’t want to stay another minute, was embarrassed and disappointed that she’d turned everyone’s life upside down quite needlessly, as it turned out. But what if he was right? What if, somehow, the lids of the boxes had gotten mixed up and her adopted sister, Janet, was their flesh-and-blood sister?

She met Campbell Abbott’s dark gaze. He stood there like the locked gate he’d been since she’d arrived—an inch or two shorter than his brothers, but broader in the shoulders, and more inclined to seriousness than they were. He’d prevented her from ever feeling completely welcome, and now he wanted to prevent her from leaving!

She turned away, headed for the parking lot. “I’ll call her and tell her to get in touch with you,” she shouted back at him.

He caught her arm at the edge of the parking lot and turned her to him. “You can’t do that,” he said with surprising gentleness. “You can’t just take off on Mom. We all have to talk this out. Come to a solution. And if your sister is our sister, you can’t expect to be able to stay out of it.”

She could expect to, but of course it wouldn’t happen.

Janet was prettier, smarter, loved by everyone for her unfailing good humor and quick wit. China had never resented her for it, only envied her. China was basically shy, but inclined to speak her mind if the situation warranted. The courage she’d required to present herself to the Abbotts as possibly their daughter/sister returned had been huge.

Her grief that she wasn’t theirs was softened somewhat now by the suggestion that Janet might be Abigail. China and Janet had squabbled as children but come to appreciate each other as they grew older. Though Janet had the brains and the boys, China had the domestic skills that kept their home going after their mother died.

They now loved and respected each other, and the last time they’d been together, before each had set off to solve the mystery of her cardboard box, they’d vowed that whatever came of their searches, they would be sisters forever.

“China.” Campbell spoke quietly as his family hurried toward them en masse. “You can’t leave them yet. Please.”

There was something to be said for having reality thrust upon you. It seemed to alter time. Just fifteen minutes ago, she’d been sure she was Abigail Abbott and the report she was about to open would prove it.

Now it seemed as though that moment had been aeons ago. She was not an Abbott. She was still China Grant, the same woman she’d always been. The heady excitement of discovery had been doused, but there was something comforting about familiarity.

Chloe threw her arms around her and held her closely. “You must not leave,” she said, her voice tight with emotion. “We’re all agreed. You may not be my daughter, but you’ve become an important part of the family.”

Chloe leaned back to look into China’s eyes, her own sweet and pleading. China opened her mouth to reply, but Chloe interrupted. “Yes, I know you have a life of your own. A small business you must keep track of. But we need you, too. Killian tells me you’ve done a wonderful job helping run the estate, and if Campbell chooses to leave us to conquer new horizons, then you must stay and help us until we find someone to replace him, oui?”

China would have loved nothing more than to make a little niche for herself with the warm and wild Abbotts, but it didn’t seem fair to the real Abigail. Especially if that was Janet. But maybe she did have to stay long enough to help them determine if indeed she was.

“I’ll stay until I can find my sister, Janet, for you,” she said.

When that met with a confused expression from the rest of the family now pressed around them, Campbell explained his theory about the boxes.

Killian and Sawyer, both with the fair good looks of their father’s first wife, frowned at each other, then at Campbell. “You really think this possible?” Killian asked.

Campbell made a noncommittal gesture. “Seems that way to me. How else would you explain that China has everything in that box that would relate her to us, but she isn’t Abby? Yet she has a sister the same age, adopted at about the same time, who’s gone off on her own quest with a box identical except for the contents?”

Sawyer raised an eyebrow. “He might have a point,” he said to Killian. “You don’t think he’s smarter than us, after all, do you?”

“Never happened,” Killian grinned. “Well, how do we find your sister, China?”

China tried to remember the town in Canada’s north mentioned on the birth certificate in Janet’s box. That was where Janet had intended to begin her search. “Somewhere in the Northwest Territories. I can’t remember the town, but she’s staying at an inn there—I have the name and number written down in my book at the house. I’ll call tonight.”

China was suddenly flanked by Cordie, Killian’s pregnant wife, and Sophie, who was engaged to marry Sawyer. They led her toward the Abbotts’ limousine, with Sophie’s daughters—Gracie, 10, and Emma, 5—dancing along ahead of them. Sophie’s seven-year-old son, Eddie, hung back with the men. “You have to stay for the wedding,” Sophie said. “We’re thinking about Labor Day.”

“Oh, I…” China tried to formulate an excuse, certain she could locate Janet, stay just long enough for the DNA test, then find a graceful way to leave.

“I need you for a bridesmaid.” Sophie, who’d grabbed China’s hand, tightened her grip.

“And you won’t want to leave without seeing my babies.” That was Cordie. Her babies weren’t due for another four months.

China let them talk, smiling cooperatively at all their suggestions of what she must do, privately making plans to be gone within two and a half weeks at the most. Three days to get Janet here from wherever she was and tested, then two weeks for the results of the test.

Daniel, the Abbotts’ chauffeur, opened the door of the long black Lincoln and the women piled inside, along with Daniel’s wife Kezia, the Abbotts’ cook and housekeeper. Killian lifted Tante Bijou out of her wheelchair and into the other side, while Sawyer folded the chair and put it in the trunk.

Chloe, tucked into the facing seat with China, wrapped an arm around her and patted her shoulder. “All will be well,” she promised with the determined smile China had grown used to since Chloe had been home. “Trust me on this.”

“I’ll call Janet right away,” China promised.

“I mean,” Chloe corrected, “that all will be well with you.”

China smiled and nodded politely, knowing Chloe wanted her to feel a part of their family. While she appreciated that, she’d just received irrefutable proof that she wasn’t. It would be hard to explain to anyone how bereft she felt.

It wasn’t as though she’d had an unhappy childhood. The Grants had been loving and kind to her and Janet. She didn’t remember specifically being told she was adopted; it was as though she’d always known. Her father had told her over and over that she and her sister were special because they’d been “chosen.”

Still, she’d felt the need to know where she’d come from. Her mother had always said that she knew nothing about their natural families, only that the doctor through which they’d adopted the girls said China’s mother had been a single woman dying of cancer, and Janet’s mother, also single, had been killed in an automobile accident.

They’d always accepted that, and neither had ever instituted a search for their biological parents for fear of upsetting their adoptive parents. Then they’d discovered the boxes in the attic and realized that what they’d been told wasn’t true.

It suddenly occurred to China that if Campbell’s theory was correct, the truth about her life was somewhere in Janet’s box. Somewhere in northern Canada.

IN HER BEDROOM overlooking the back lawn, part of the apple orchard and the small house where Daniel and Kezia lived, China sat at the antique desk, trying to decipher her sister’s handwriting. She’d received a forwarded letter from Janet just a week ago. It was brief and to the point.

I’m staying at the Little Creek House Hotel near Fort Providence. I’ve finally tracked the godmother’s name on the birth certificate to this town. Very thinly populated. Have learned she went to live with her son, but no one I’ve talked to so far knows where that is. Got my work cut out for me, I guess. Hope you’re having better luck. Love, Jan.

She’d included the telephone number of the hotel.

A cheerful masculine voice answered. “Little Creek.”

“Hello. May I speak to Janet Grant, please?” China asked.

“I’m afraid she’s away for several days,” the man replied. “May I take a message?”

“Away?” China repeated.

“Yes. She’s hired a guide and gone to Jasper’s Camp. It’s several days by foot. I’m afraid there’s no cell phone reception there.” He again offered to take a message.