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If I had the power to give you anything besides the material things you now possess, it would be love. I pray your heart is open to it, and if not yet, that it will be soon.
Follow your heart, and do not let anyone stand in your way of doing so. And while my fervent dream is that you will love the Lilacs as much as I have since the day my husband brought me to it, it should not be an encumbrance.
My attorney will help with any decision you make. Whether you want to make it your home and fill it with the love and laughter it’s never known or if you choose not to remain, you will not be judged.
I am a very old woman and fear I’m rambling now. There are journals I kept over the years beneath this letter. They are there for you to read if you want to know more about the family you never had the chance to meet.
I would ask for forgiveness, but I know I don’t deserve it.
Your great-grandmother,
Cena Rooker Covert
I held the letter out to Beau, who took it.
“This is dated the twenty-fourth of December.”
I nodded. “The day before she died.”
He set the letter on the table, opened his arms to me, and held me while I cried.
EPILOGUE
SAM
Four months later
Beau and I spent countless hours reading Cena’s journals and letters, and sorting through her photos. With his help and Juni’s, I was able to piece together my family history.
There were letters Manley Jr. received from private detectives he’d hired, each one telling him they were sorry, but they could not find proof that Pilar Marquez had ever existed. The last letter, the one that said they’d finally found Pilar, her daughter, and granddaughter, arrived just days after he’d died.
After the snow melted, we visited the cemeteries where generations of both Coverts and Rookers were buried. I’d spent so much time looking at all the photos that, when I visited some of the graves, I could picture the person in my mind. It was odd, meeting your relatives after they were dead, but that was what it felt like I was doing.
Juni gave me a copy of Cena’s favorite books, and sometimes, I’d go sit by her gravestone and read to her.
Beau always came with me, sat by my side, held my hand, and continued reading when I was too choked up with emotion to continue.
There were still mysteries left unsolved. Like why Ursula, my grandmother’s sister, had left her husband when her twin boys, Jimmy and Johnny, were only three years old. I suppose it explained, in part, why she’d never told Manley how to find my grandmother.
The other thing no one could figure out was why Patricia Rooker, Cord’s mother, had never told her children about the family she left behind in East Aurora or even why she’d left. I knew Cord was disappointed I hadn’t found a single photo labeled with her name or any mention of her in Cena’s journals.
We never met Hoss Schultz, but he sent a letter, terminating the contract between Schultz Wineries and Lilac Lane. It was dated the day after Jimmy Rooker was taken away in an ambulance before being charged with attempted murder.
From that day on, Beau and I ran the winery, as we’d planned to anyway. He’d increased the hectares devoted to grape growing in time for spring planting, and we hoped to double our production within five years.
“There are my beloveds.”
I looked up at the smiling face of the man who tomorrow would become my husband. He kissed my forehead and scratched Wanda’s ears.
“I’m so glad we decided to get married here in East Aurora. It feels right, you know?”
Beau smiled. “It’s home—our home.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“On the subject of our wedding, I’ve a gift for you.”
“Beau, you didn’t have to get me a gift. I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t get anything for you.”
