Her blue eyes, so like Claire's, held only terror as she shook her head. "Only the open sea, I think. It depends on exactly where he was."

"I'm sure they're questioning him, but he's not going to tell them." He rubbed his head and tried to think. "Let's head toward Lobster Rock and see if we spot her."

It was useless. If Paul had brought her out here, he'd dumped her overboard. While Claire was a strong swimmer, no one could survive cold rollers this size, especially without a wetsuit, and even that just delayed the inevitable hypothermia.

"We should go back, talk to Paul ourselves." He started to turn when he heard a giant splash from the starboard side. The little orca he'd rescued flipped out of the water again, then came up to the side of the boat. He acted agitated and was moving haphazardly.

Luke leaned over the side of the boat. "What's wrong, little guy?"

Kate joined him at the side of the boat. "He's acting strange."

"I think he's upset about something." He frowned and looked closer. The orca had something in its mouth. He patted the side of the boat to entice the killer whale closer. The orca's rostrum b.u.mped the side of the boat, and Luke touched it, then ran his fingers down to the mouth with care. He didn't want to get bitten and dragged overboard. His fingers touched plastic, and the orca opened his mouth, releasing the item to him.

A flip-flop? He turned it over. Size seven. Rhinestones decorated the pink shoe, so it belonged to a woman. "You ever see Claire wear something like this?"

Kate touched one of the stones. "Good quality. It might be hers." She watched the orca, still swimming erratically beside the boat. "Claire helped you with that orca, didn't she?"

"She loved him. She fed him a lot."

The hidden pain in Kate's eyes changed to hope. "What if this is hers and he's staying close to her?"

It was a long shot, but what other clue did they have? "Can you navigate the boat?"

"I've driven my grandpa's boat since I was ten. What are you going to do?"

He stepped to the bow. "I'm going to look in the waves for her. She might be out there."

His eyes burned with the wind in his face. All he could do was whisper, "Please, G.o.d," over and over. There were so many things he wanted to say to her. They had something special, something he didn't want to slip away. A tiny black spot grew on the horizon, and he heard a distant gonging as it rocked in the waves.

Luke reached into one of the compartments and drew out binoculars. Focusing them, he studied the formations and looked for any sign of life. Nothing moved, so he lowered them and looked for the orca swimming in circles. Luke brought the binoculars back up and trained them on the buoy. Was that a piece of driftwood on it? He adjusted the binoculars, and Claire's face leaped into focus.

"She's on the buoy!" He leaned out over the bow and resisted the urge to dive in. The boat would reach her before he could swim there. She hadn't moved yet, and he cupped his hands, shouting her name into the wind. She still didn't move.

Kate brought the boat in as close as possible, and Luke lowered the anchor, then jumped overboard. The shock of cold water nearly took his breath away, but he swam for the buoy as fast as he could. He climbed up next to Claire. When he touched her cheek, he winced at how cold she was. Was she alive? His pulse pounded in his ears as he pressed his fingers to her neck. For a long moment he felt nothing, then a gentle throb pulsed back against his fingers.

"Claire, can you hear me?"

She lifted her head and blinked. "Luke?"

He waved to Kate. "She's alive!" He pried her hands off the buoy. "Let's go, honey. I've got you."

He had to get her aboard and wrapped in blankets.

She was cold, so cold. A voice called her name. Was it G.o.d? She tried to lift her head, but her neck wouldn't support it, and she let her cheek drop back against the buoy. Where was she?

"Claire!"

Luke's voice. She had to get up, let him know she was here before he pa.s.sed by in his boat. Then warm hands touched her and scooped her up into strong arms. Luke's breath warmed her cold face, and he pressed his face into her neck. Something warm and wet trickled onto her skin, and she tried to focus her gaze but everything stayed blurry.

"Don't cry," she murmured. "I'm okay."

He gave a crooked grin. "Those aren't tears. It's the rain." His choked voice was hoa.r.s.e, and he gathered her closer. "I thought I lost you, but you're going to be okay. You're on a buoy."

She managed to keep her eyes open and saw the last of the storm clouds billowing away in the blue sky. The sea still foamed around the buoy, but the waves were half the size they'd been. "The little orca. He saved me from drowning."

Luke lifted his head from its nest in her neck. "I saw him swimming out here or I never would have found you. They caught Paul Mason, but he claimed he hadn't seen you. The calf was swimming erratically and making sounds of distress. He had your flip-flop so I got out the binoculars and looked for you." He hugged her tighter. "Thank G.o.d."

She shuddered with the cold. "I'd have died."

"Let's get you to the boat and warmed up. I'll have to help you swim to the boat. I'm sorry you have to be back in the water, but it won't be for long."

She nodded and took a deep breath. The cold water closed over her head, and she struggled to the surface with Luke's hand on her arm. The shivering intensified, and she clung to him as he helped her dog-paddle to the boat. Kate's face peered anxiously over the side, and she climbed partway down the ladder to help. Claire grabbed her warm hand, and Luke boosted her behind, but even with both of them a.s.sisting her, she barely had the strength to get aboard. She collapsed onto the deck.

The boat swayed as Luke climbed up behind her. "Get a blanket!"

Kate darted to a storage compartment and yanked out a blue thermal blanket. Luke knelt by Claire and pulled her onto his lap. Though his shirt was wet and cold, the heat of his skin under his clothing enticed her to nestle closer.

Kate dropped to her knees and wrapped them both in the blanket. "She's in hypothermia. We've got to get her to the hospital. Get her inside, out of the wind, and I'll turn us toward sh.o.r.e."

Claire barely felt Luke nod before lifting her and carrying her into the cabin. Her vision began to go in and out again. Was she still going to die? She clung to Luke with weak fists as he placed her on the padded bench.

"We've got to get her out of these wet clothes. Meg has some sweats in that compartment." He pointed. "I'll turn the boat around and you undress her and get her in dry clothes. I'll change too."

Claire was barely aware of hands tugging off her clothes, but the blessed relief of dry clothing made her sigh. Then Kate wrapped two dry blankets around her. "Luke, you come hold her now. I'll take the helm."

Kate's hands released her, then Luke cradled her on his lap again. He rested his chin on her wet hair and held her close. "I've got you. We'll be home soon."

She closed her eyes and let herself relax against his chest. His heart beat strongly under her ear, the rhythm soothing. Safe, I am safe. Then she stiffened and opened her eyes. "What about Kate's mother? M-My mother too, I guess. Did she know he was trying to kill me?"

"She knew he'd killed my mom, but they both had to keep quiet."

"I remembered. I saw it." Claire absorbed Luke's warmth. "How did you figure out he had me?"

"I saw his picture at the sheriff's office and went to Mom. She told me the truth, and we knew he had to have taken you. No one else would have." Kate turned back around to steer the boat.

Sickened by the revelations, Claire closed her eyes. There seemed no real place of home for her.

FORTY-ONE.

The bed in her hotel suite felt like heaven. Claire snuggled under the duvet and sheet. At least she was finally warm. Moonlight streamed in through the open door into the room. By the time she'd been checked out at the hospital and had answered the sheriff's questions, night had fallen. Luke insisted she get right into bed, and she'd been happy to comply.

Luke flipped the metal bar on the door into the jamb. "I'm leaving this open. Your dad said they'd be over shortly. I guess your grandmother is driving everyone crazy." He grabbed the table at the desk and pulled it beside the bed.

Claire's heart squeezed. Grandma Emily wasn't really her grandmother since she was Mom's mother. "I think I know what Grandma meant by her strange comments about loving me from the first moment she saw me. I think she knew who I really was all along." She wasn't sure how things would change now, but there was no doubt her life would be very different.

Luke sat on the chair and reached for her hand. "I think things might not be the way you'd expect. You have a way of getting into a person's heart, Claire. I don't think they'll be willing to step aside for your real mother."

His thumb rubbed across her palm in a hypnotic movement that soothed her. "You always know the right thing to say, but I think you're wrong this time. Does your dad know my uncle killed your mom?"

Luke's eyes flickered. "He knows. He's wishing he'd listened to Mom's talk about the child crying."

"I bet he doesn't ever want to see me again. Megan too." The thought of Megan's sorrow hurt Claire's heart.

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. "You'd be wrong. You were a little girl. You're not to blame for any of it." He scooted over to sit on the bed beside her, then leaned over her and brushed his lips against hers. "I never want to be that scared again. When I saw you lying so still and pale on that buoy, I was sure you were dead."

"I gave up, just let the sea take me down. But our little orca had other plans. I'll need to take him some fish as a thank-you."

He twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. "I think your dad wants you to go home and put this all behind you. I hope you don't put me behind you. It's not that far from Boston to here."

She found it hard to think with the sensation of his hands in her hair. "You're definitely quitting the Coast Guard?"

He nodded. "I realized part of my resistance to coming home was pride, pure and simple. I'd always said I was going to get out into the world and make a difference. But I don't have to be working for the Coast Guard to do that. Folly Shoals is small and backward maybe, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. The world moves too fast now anyway."

She reached up and cupped his cheek. "I don't want to go to Boston."

His smile froze in place. "What are you thinking?"

"I don't know, really, not yet. I don't know what the future holds with my job at Cramer Aviation. The merger didn't happen, and right now I'm finding it hard to figure out what I want to do with my life. Planes are all I know. But blueberries are in my blood, and I'm a little intrigued to see what I might do in a different career."

Luke lifted a brow and grinned. "You ever thought about working in a cranberry bog?"

"You offering me a job?"

"Meg ran it. I'm not very good at that kind of thing. Give me a crime to solve, and I'm all over it, but it's going to take me awhile to get up to speed on anything else."

"I don't know anything about cranberries," she said, though her heart thumped at the thought of working with him. But could she leave everything she knew?

"Well, think about it."

Her grandmother stepped into the room and came to the other side of Claire's bed. She sat down and pulled Claire into an embrace. "Claire, don't ever scare me like that again."

Claire buried her face in her grandmother's neck and inhaled the sweet scent of her cologne. "I-I'm not Claire."

Her grandmother pulled back and cupped Claire's face. "Honey, I knew you weren't Claire the minute I laid eyes on you. I confronted Harry and he told me the truth. I always knew you were Rachel. But your appearance brought my daughter back from the dead. I couldn't tell her and see all her joy disappear again."

"I thought maybe you knew," Claire whispered.

"The differences were clear. No asthma, missing scars, the difference in the shape of your face. One tooth had a small chip in it where she fell against my coffee table. That was missing too. Lots of little things. Claire was always a little difficult right from the day she was born. But not you. You climbed on my lap as soon as Harry brought you home. You had me wrapped around your little finger from that moment. Timothy too. It doesn't take blood for love to flourish."

She drank in her grandmother's words. "I don't know what to call myself."

"I'd stick with Claire. It's what you know and how people know you. Take the trauma you've gone through and let it make you stronger and more compa.s.sionate." Grandma released her and slipped off the bed. "Your grandpa is clamoring to get in here. I'll let him know he can come in."

Everything was moving too fast for Claire to grasp it, but she caught the fact her grandma hadn't mentioned Lisa. "What about Mom? Does she hate me now? I'm the other woman's child."

"She's trying to reconcile her jealousy of Mary with her love for you. A small thing that really upset her is that your father bought three dolls when he was in Paris, one for each of his three daughters. And she never knew. But she'll come around. Give her a little time." Grandma leaned down and brushed a kiss over Claire's forehead. She slanted a glance at Luke. "Take care of her, young man."

"I will."

Her grandmother headed for the door, but Luke continued to look down at Claire. "You willing to see where we go from here, honey?"

She reached up and grasped his neck, pulling him down so she could kiss him. "I don't think you have any choice now. Not with Grandma on the warpath."

Organ music filled the rafters of the little church. The communion table had been removed to make room for the closed coffin. Luke sat on the front row with Claire on one side of him and Megan on the other. His sister had rooted through the attic to find a picture of their family in the happy days before their mother went missing. It rested atop the coffin.

His mouth was dry as he studied that picture. They looked so happy on the front porch of their home. He was looking up at his mom with an adoring expression. For just a moment, he thought he smelled the cranberry candles she used to burn.

His gaze lowered to the casket itself, a plain oak one topped with a flower arrangement that included cranberry blossoms. Finally they had closure. Their lives would have been so different if she'd lived. Claire's would have been different too. Would they even have met if circ.u.mstances had been different? It was hard to unravel the threads and know what might have been and what now was because of this tragedy. His grandmother had always told him G.o.d was in the habit of taking the awful things that happened in life and turning them into diamonds in our path.

Maybe she was right.

A murmur went through the church, and he turned to see Aunt Nan wheeling his father toward their pew. Pop had adamantly refused to come, and they'd left him at the house an hour ago. What had changed his mind?

He rose and went to help his aunt. "He call you?"

Aunt Nan nodded. "I was about to leave for the service, so I ran by to get him."

Pop's hands gripped the arms of his chair. "No need to talk about me like I'm not here. It's not a crime to change my mind." He sniffled and wiped at his face with the back of his hand.

Luke squeezed his dad's shoulder. "It's okay to grieve, Pop. It's been a long time coming."

His gaze transfixed on the casket, his dad nodded. "She deserved better than to be tossed into a field like a piece of trash."

Luke's eyes blurred, and he swallowed hard. "She did."

The grips of the wheelchair were still warm from his aunt's hands. Family was all about pa.s.sing the baton, working together, dealing with the ugliness that existed even in people he loved, weathering the hard knocks of life by linking hands and stepping out in faith.

He pushed the chair beside the pew where Megan and Claire waited. Rest in peace, Mom. Maybe they all could now.

EPILOGUE.

The last three weeks had pa.s.sed in a whirlwind. Kate lay snuggled in the bed of Claire's hotel room. She had been released from the hospital this morning, and Claire's grandmother had insisted on bringing her here so she could take care of her. Kate's small house had only one bedroom, and the hotel had been quick to bring in a rollaway bed for Claire to use.