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Anna asked with concern, “Why are you crying, Mama?”
“Because I’m happy and because I miss my family so much.”
Anna looked to her father for help.
“I’m okay, Anna. It’s just that everything here reminds me of them. Don’t worry.” Regan gave her a kiss. “Maybe in the spring, we can all go to Arizona or they can come here. I wrote them all about you.”
“You did?”
“And I know they’re anxious to meet you.” She looked to Colt. “You too, good doctor.”
“Looking forward to meeting them as well.”
“Anna, let’s take all this to the kitchen and put it away. Tomorrow we make tortillas!”
Later, after Anna was asleep and Colt was in his study reading about a medical convention he planned to attend, Regan sat at the dining room table to read the letters and the telegram she’d received. She opened the telegram first and was surprised to see that it was from her Uncle Andrew in San Francisco. It read:Regan. Received query from banker Arnold Cale. Accused you, a colored woman—his words—of pretending to be my niece. Wanted you arrested. Sent him back very sharp reply. Any problems going forward let me know. Love, Uncle A.
So, Cale hadn’t believed her, to the point that he wanted to turn her over to the law. In a way she understood his suspicion, she was a Colored woman but due to slavery there were many mixed raced families in the country. She’d spent a considerable amount of coin at Miller’s store. Did he think she’d stolen it? She could only imagine his face when he received her uncle’s reply. She thought tomorrow might be a good day to visit the esteemed banker and ask if he’d prefer she place her money elsewhere.
She then turned to her letters. The one from her Aunt Eddy was a short note that sent her love, and a request that Regan let her know if she needed anything else. She also sent assurances that she and Uncle Rhine were doing well and that they missed her. But it was Portia’s letter that gave her pause:
Dear Sister Mine,
I hope you and your doctor are well. Kent and I are doing fine. We’re having a house built on Mr. Blanchard’s land, and I can’t wait for it to be finished so we can move in and make it our home. How are you? I hope this adventure you set out on has borne fruit and your doctor adores you. Kent and I combined our honeymoon in San Francisco with the Colored Women’s Suffrage meeting we were planning before you left for Wyoming and it was a grand affair. Frances Ellen Watkins Harper spoke and she was a rousing articulate force of nature. We jumped to our feet more times than I can count to applaud her stirring words. On a more disturbing note, I saw our mother while in the city as well. She looked me in the face, startled, and walked by me as if she’d never seen me before. I was heartbroken. I’ve no idea if she lives there or was visiting. Aunt Eddy was incensed by Corinne’s snub and is hiring a Pinkerton to ferret that out. I know you said you consider Corinne dead to you but I believe that you, like me, long to at least speak with her. I will let you know if anything comes of this. In the meantime, know that I love you and miss you. Please write to me soon. Portia.
Regan read the part about Corinne again and sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
She looked up into Colt’s concerned eyes. “My sister saw our mother in San Francisco.”
“And?”
“Although Corinne recognized her, she walked past Portia as if she didn’t.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“My aunt plans to hire a Pinkerton to find her, but I don’t agree with that. Corinne made her choice. She didn’t want us. We’ll carry that hurt for the rest of our lives, but arranging a meeting with her as Portia wants won’t change anything, at least not for me. Aunt Eddy gave us enough love for three lifetimes. I don’t need Corinne.”
He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. “Other than that, is your sister and her new husband well?”
She nodded. “They’re having a house built.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I am. I’m just sad that Corinne broke Portia’s heart again. I don’t know why my sister doesn’t accept the situation and move on.”
“Maybe she’s hoping for a reconciliation.”
“You’re probably right, but it isn’t going to happen. That she treated Portia like a stranger shows what she thinks of us. There will be no reconciliation.” Regan rose to her feet and slipped her arms around his waist and he hugged her tight. She didn’t need Corinne. She had his love, Anna’s love, and the love of her family in Arizona. “Thank you for loving me,” she whispered.
“Always.” He lifted her chin and said firmly but gently, “Always.”
She fit herself against him again. Content.
Chapter Sixteen
The next afternoon, Regan went to pick up Anna from school and saw the children outside playing tag while Dovie Denby, Colleen Enright, and Lucretia Watson stood talking with the teacher, Mr. Adams. He was a tall, string bean of a man with dark collar-length hair and a dour face centered by a long thin nose. As Regan walked over to join them, she noted his tersely set features and wondered what the conversation might be about.
