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His father turned toward him and patted him on the shoulder. “That her biological child died. In the hospital the day after Hattie gave birth to him. I brought someone here who can explain it better than I can.”
A tall, well-built man came walking toward them from the side entrance to the gardens. With his dark hair and intense expression, he had an air of authority about him.
“I knew you wouldn’t take my word for it, Grayson. Because of the past you don’t seem to believe in me very much or in a single thing I say,” Tanner said with a doleful expression. “So I hired one of the best PIs in the country.” He gestured toward the stranger. “This is Parker Donahue.”
Hope knew that name! Parker Donahue had worked with Callie’s biological brother, Mac Donahue, to find her. From what she knew of Parker, no one could ever question his investigative skills.
Parker locked gazes with Grayson. “I’ve been looking into this matter for the last few weeks, Grayson,” Parker said in a firm but compassionate tone. “I did some digging. It wasn’t a cakewalk either. Those old records were elusive. But I managed to piece some things together. Hattie Alexander gave birth at a hospital in Florida. That hospital is one of the oldest in the country. It still exists. There was a nun who handled all the babies born at that hospital in nineteen forty-two. Sister Angela Callahan.” Parker dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Sister Angela died five years ago at the ripe old age of ninety-seven. When she died she left behind confessions of situations she’d mishandled. She was at the hospital the day Miss Hattie delivered her son. At the same time another young woman also gave birth to a son. This young woman died in childbirth. After Miss Hattie left the hospital to go home her son’s health deteriorated and he passed away.
“No! That’s crazy!” Grayson cried out. “You can’t prove this is true.”
“It’s all here in a confession from Sister Angela. She switched the babies at the request of Tuck and Patricia Alexander. When they discovered the baby had died they vowed never to let their daughter know. They knew she’d never recover from the guilt. So when Hattie returned to the hospital the next day, a plan was set in motion. Identities were swapped. Miss Hattie was told her baby was adopted when in reality her baby Patrick was dead.”
“Her parents loved her enough to want to spare her from the knowledge her son had died.” Tanner clenched his teeth. “They were trying to spare her.”
Tears flooded Hope’s eyes. Miss Hattie’s past was filled with such tragedy. The weight of it had rested on her shoulders for decades. It made Hope want to bury her head against Grayson’s chest and sob for all that Miss Hattie had endured and lost. In the end she had probably sensed it when she saw Tanner in the park and realized he wasn’t her Patrick.
“They were far from perfect, but in the end, they did want to shield her from pain,” Hope acknowledged. “They loved her.” In many ways it reminded her of her own parents. Her parents had made a multitude of mistakes with her, but they continued to love her. And they had shown their devotion to Ella time after time. As her mother had said, they couldn’t change the past, but they could surely shape the future.
Grayson hadn’t said another word. His skin was pale and little beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead.
“So, what about your real parents? Don’t you want to find them?” Hope asked Tanner, darting a glance in Grayson’s direction. He looked shattered. Her heart ached for him. He had done so much to try and establish his familial connections here in Savannah. It had all led to a dead-end.
Tanner shrugged. “I’ve spent my adult life researching adoption and writing about it. I was seeking an understanding of who I was. And by exploring it, I think I found those answers. I really don’t need anything more. The people who raised me were pretty great individuals. They weren’t perfect by any means, but they chose me and they loved me. That’s enough.” He glanced over at his son. “And I hope it’s enough for you too.”
Grayson raked a shaky hand through his hair. “It just…I can’t believe we’re not related to Miss Hattie. Everything I’ve been feeling since I’ve been here in Savannah has convinced me of a true connection. This isn’t what I expected to hear.”
“It’s a shock,” Hope said, placing her hand on Grayson’s shoulder. He looked so beaten down and broken. Grayson’s reasons for seeking out a connection to Savannah House had been genuine. He was still that little boy who’d been sent away by his parents. He was still searching for meaning. She prayed Grayson knew she was in his corner for the long haul. Whatever he wanted or needed—she would be by his side.
He shook his head. “Everything I thought was true isn’t true at all.”
Tanner frowned. “Grayson, nothing has really changed. I’m still your father. And I’m committed to working on our relationship. You have a really beautiful life. The possibilities are endless. You still have a connection to Savannah House. Through Hope. Everything happens for a reason. You just have to figure out why God sent you on this journey.”
“There’s not always a silver lining in every situation,” Grayson sniped. “Sometimes there’s absolutely no meaning, no grand plan.”
“Grayson, I know how disappointed you are,” Hope said in a gentle voice. She reached out for his hand but he moved away from her. There was a dullness radiating from his eyes that frightened her. He looked so completely lost.
He held up his hand. “Hope, I need some time to process all this. I need to be alone. I’ve got to get out of here.”
**
With a heavy heart he made his way across the gardens, sidestepping going back into Savannah House. He couldn’t possibly face anyone right now. He just needed to get as far away from this property as he could. He’d just discovered he really didn’t belong here.
“Grayson!” Hope’s voice called out after him. He turned around to see her running after him. When she caught up to him, she was out of breath.
“Don’t let this change anything. You’re still a part of Savannah House. And you’re still a huge part of my life, Grayson. Let’s work through this together.”
He shoved his hand through the hair at the crown of his head. Being with Hope right now was dangerous. He could feel himself threatening to explode. And he desperately didn’t want to do it in front of the woman he loved. She was gentle and lovely and she didn’t deserve to see him lose it. He didn’t want to scare her. Or make himself look badly in her eyes. But he needed to blow off some steam. He needed to be alone.
He clenched his jaw. “I know. I just…I really need to go. I can’t be here right now. I’ll give you a call later,” he said, backing away from her and walking toward the side entrance to the edge of the property.
Grayson could hear Hope calling after him, but he didn’t stop this time. Couldn’t stop. He hopped in his car and roared away, leaving behind all his heartache and pain. He didn’t even look up to see Savannah House in his rearview window. It would be far too painful.
Hope. Sweet, loyal Hope. He didn’t want her to see his pain up close and personal. He didn’t want her to watch him combust. Grayson had never allowed a woman to see his hurts before. All his life he’d been taught to be strong and to keep a stiff upper lip. Right now he felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under him. The truth twisted painfully in his gut.
He was struggling to wrap his head around everything that had happened in the last few hours. Grayson couldn’t explain the reasons why he felt such a deep connection with Savannah House. It made absolutely no sense now since he wasn’t kin to the Alexander family. He felt so deflated. He’d felt such a strong tie to a family legacy that wasn’t even real. And he felt anger blossoming inside his heart. For so long his father hadn’t been honest with him. A detailed conversation would have explained everything. But just like always his father had sat on information until it blew up in Grayson’s face.
Dear Lord. Show me the way. I’m all mixed up inside. I thought I’d finally found a place to call home. Somewhere I was tied to by way of my heritage. Who am I?
