Page 12 of Fearless

Chapter Six

Naples, Florida

“She loved you in her way, Sean.”

Turning to the older woman sitting across the table from him, he nodded. “I know that, Martha. Brenda was good to me.”

Brenda’s sister gave him a look that reminded him so much of his stepmother, he felt his heart twist a little. Brenda had died in her sleep two days ago. Within hours of being back in his cabin from his trip to Wisconsin, Martha had called with the news. He had never had the chance to pick up Hank from the pet sitter. Adding another layer to his already heavy heart, he hadn’t bothered to repack and had just headed back to the airport.

The funeral had been a quiet, lonely affair with just him and Martha in attendance.

“I know Brenda had her issues,” Martha said. “Our parents were strict, unaffectionate people. They raised two daughters to be just like them. Years ago, when she called and told me she’d gotten married, I about passed out in surprise. I figured we’d both be old maids. Then when she said she had a stepson, too, I thought, ‘Whoa, that’s not going to go well.’ But she surprised me.”

Sean gave a huff of wry laughter. “She and my dad were a good match.” He shrugged and added, “I don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t taken care of me after he died.”

Martha nodded slowly. “Yeah. You know she wasn’t much of a talker. Kind of kept everything inside her but never had anything but good to say about you. And, of course, Emma, too.”

Would there ever come a day that his heart didn’t hurt when he heard his daughter’s name?

“Emma made a difference in both of our lives.”

Martha eyed him like she was trying to decide something. Then, with a small grunt, she rose from the table and wobbled out of the room. Though she was a couple years older than Brenda’s seventy-nine years, she got around quite well without a cane. Assuming she would come back soon, he sipped the iced tea she’d made him and thought about his stepmother.

They’d talked only a handful of times in the past year. The older she’d gotten, the more reclusive she’d become. The few times they had talked, their conversations hadn’t lasted more than five minutes. Since neither of them wanted to talk about Emma, their conversations had usually been limited to the weather, her health issues, and an occasional news story. Losing Emma had not only damaged both of them, but it had taken away the one thing they had in common—the immense love they’d had for his little girl.

A midsize brown box appeared in front of him, drawing him out of his reflections.

“This was Brenda’s,” Martha said. “I was just going to throw this stuff out, but I thought you might want to see what occupied her mind the last few years of her life. I know she never mentioned it to you. It did no good to talk to her, tell her how useless this was. She wouldn’t let it go.”

Curious at the contents, Sean opened the box. All breath left his body. Though filled with a stack of thick folders, the top pages were loose, and each one was a photo of Emma. He hadn’t known Brenda had taken these. How many times had she taken them out and gazed at them?

Ignoring the smiling face of his precious daughter, he picked up the first folder and began to flip through it. The confusion on his face was likely apparent, because Martha said softly, “She didn’t want you to know what she was doing. She wanted to be able to give Emma back to you.”

His head jerked up. “She what?”

“My sister died believing that Emma was still alive.”

“Why would she think that?”

“About a month after her second stroke, she started having weird dreams. The doctors told her they were due to the medication she was taking. It was either that, or her body was adjusting to the new demands on it from the stroke. She pretended like she believed them and didn’t say anything else. Then one day, I caught her talking on the phone to a man who was giving her advice on finding missing people.”

That made no sense. There was no indication anywhere that Emma had not died in that car accident.

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

“I think she knew what you would say, that there was no way Emma was alive.”

Now he felt even worse for not spending more time with Brenda. If she had been carrying around this kind of hope, he could only imagine how alone she must have felt. Martha was right. He would have told her that there was no way Emma still lived on this earth. He’d seen the accident report, seen photos. He’d visited Emma’s gravesite. There was no question that an auto accident had taken his daughter’s life.

“Who was the man she talked to?”

“I don’t know. When I questioned her, she got defensive and closed up even more. Then one day, she told me that she had finally accepted that Emma was dead.”

Even though there was no doubt, Sean couldn’t stop the wrench to his heart. He’d never had that hope, but he hated that Brenda had finally accepted it, too, even if it was for the best.

“Did she say why she changed her mind?”

“No.”