“And Cameron. And so many others.” Gwen stared at the steep slope of the mountain below and felt another stirring of grief from within.
“Are you okay?” Peter asked, laying his hand on her back.
“I’m not sure. I can’t stop thinking about the moment when the wave swept Valerie away, the second when she let go of the handle of the carriage. It must have been awful, losing her grip on it. And when she went back, and he was gone ... it’s a mother’s worst nightmare. The guilt she must have felt over losing her grip ... she would never have forgiven herself for that.”
Peter rubbed his hand in small circles between Gwen’s shoulder blades. He said nothing. He simply waited for her to express her feelings.
“At least I finally understand who she was,” Gwen said, “and why she lived alone the rest of her life and never had any more children. It’s hard to be brave enough to try again. Or maybe she didn’t think shedeserved a second chance after failing to protect Cameron that day. I’ve felt that way myself, even though I know, rationally, that it wasn’t my fault.”
Peter rubbed her back again.
“In the end,” Gwen continued, “I think Valerie’s career and her music was how she dealt with the memory of it. Writing music might have been therapeutic for her. Or perhaps it was the ultimate distraction.”
Gwen knew all about distraction to avoid anguish. But by avoiding her own pain, she’d allowed herself to stay trapped in the past. All she’d wanted since Eric had left was to have her old life back—her life without the pain from losing Lily, when her heart had been whole.
But it was impossible to go back. You could only go forward. Gwen looked up at the sky.
I don’t want to die alone like Valerie. I want to love and be loved.
A part of Gwen began to feel a new understanding about why Eric had felt the need to leave her. It wasn’t just because of her grief and how she had shut him out. He’d wanted children, and he had feared she’d never be able to move on after what had happened. They hadn’t been on the same path with their grief or what they’d wanted in the future. Their timing had been off.
But was she ready to move on now? Was she ready to dive into a new life on the other side of the loss?
Peter cupped her elbow in his hand. “Come here.”
She turned to him, and he gathered her into his arms. She melted into the warmth and comfort of his embrace.
“I’m sorry for what happened to your daughter,” he said. “No one should have to go through something like that. I don’t know why bad things happen the way they do.”
She rested her cheek on his shoulder. “It’s part of life, I guess. It’s painful sometimes. But thankfully, not always. I guess that’s whatJeremy was trying to tell us. That we need to cherish and enjoy the good days.”
Peter spoke softly into her ear. “Make hay while the sun shines. At least when we’re not running from the cops.”
Gwen laughed and drew back, but there were fresh tears in her eyes. “I’m so glad you came to me with that newspaper clipping. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for letting me be a part of your research. It changes everything I thought I knew about Valerie’s life, and it’s helped me to look more consciously at my own.”
They both faced forward to take in the view again.
“And I have to confess something,” Gwen said. “Part of the reason why I was so invested in the possibility that Valerie’s child might be alive somewhere was so that I could relinquish some of her fortune. I wanted there to be other family members besides just me—because after Lily died, I didn’t want the pressure of being solely responsible for the safekeeping of the Scarlett Fontaine legend and her financial estate. I’m the only heir, but I’m childless now. Who will I leave it to after I’m gone? Who will care enough to look after things and not let it become a soulless corporate machine?” She shook her head at herself. “That probably sounds so lame.”
“Not at all.”
The sun emerged from behind a cloud, and Gwen felt its warmth on her cheeks. As she stood in the changing light, she pondered what Valerie might have wanted.
“We’ve always taken on charitable causes,” Gwen said, “but I think what I’d like to do now is start a foundation for single mothers who need help getting by on their own. In Valerie’s name, of course.”
“That sounds like a noble endeavor.”
“I’ll talk to my parents about it when I get home.”
They stood for a while at the top of the mountain. Then Peter turned to her. “I think, after this, I should go to Valdez if I’m going towrite about what happened. What about you? Will you go home now? And talk to your husband?”
Gwen inhaled the fresh scent of the pine forest. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I still don’t know what’s going on with him and Keri—I don’t even think Eric knows—and that needs to be resolved.”
They stood side by side, looking over the rail.
“It would certainly be beneficial for me to see Valdez,” Gwen said, “as the curator of Scarlett’s museum.”
“Yes,” Peter replied. “But it’s not the same as it used to be. Even if we go, we won’t see the town that existed then. It’s all gone.”
