Homeport

seen me. He’s never heard me. And now I know why.” She closed her eyes, turned her cheek into his hand. “What kind of people are they, Ryan, that I come from? My father, Elizabeth, the woman who gave me to them?”
    “I don’t know them.” Gently, he turned her until they were face-to-face. “But I know you.”
    “I feel . . .” She drew a long breath, and let it come. “Relieved. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been afraid I was like her, had no real choice about being like her. But I’m not. I’m not.”
    Shuddering once, she laid her head on his shoulder. “I don’t ever have to worry about that again.”
    “I’m sorry for her,” he murmured. “For closing herself off to you. To love.”
    Miranda knew what love was now, the terror and thrill of it. Whatever happened, she was grateful that part of herself had been opened. Even if the lock had been picked by a thief.
    “Yes, so am I.” She held on, one last moment, then drew away to stand on her own. “I’m going to go to Cook with Richard’s book.”
    “Give me time to get to Florence. I didn’t want to leave today, not when you had all this on your mind. I’ll leave tonight if I can manage it, or first thing in the morning. We’ll cut it back to thirty-six hours. That should do it.”
    “I can’t give you more than that. I need this to be over.”
    “It will be.”
    She smiled, found it easier than she’d imagined. “And no sneaking into bedrooms, no riffling through jewelry boxes or safes.”
    “Absolutely not. As soon as I’m finished with the Carters.”
    “Oh, for God’s sake.”
    “I won’t steal a thing. Didn’t I resist those pearls of your grandmother’s? All that lovely Italian gold of Elise’s? Even the pretty little locket I could have given one of my nieces? I’d have been a hero.”

    “Your nieces are too young for lockets.” She let out a sigh and leaned her head on his shoulder again. “I didn’t get mine until I was sixteen. My grandmother gave me a very pretty heart-shaped one that her mother had given to her.”
    “And you put a lock of your boyfriend’s hair in it.”
    “Hardly. I didn’t have boyfriends. She’d already put her picture in it anyway, and my grandfather’s. It was to help me remember my roots.”
    “Did it?”
    “Of course. Good New England stock always remembers roots. I’m a Jones,” she said quietly. “And Elizabeth was right. I might never have been hers, but I was always my grandmother’s.”
    “You’ll have her pearls now.”
    “Yes, and I’ll treasure them. I lost the locket a few years ago. Broke my heart.” Feeling better, she straightened. “I need to get maintenance in here. We have to put this place back in order. I’m hoping we can open the exhibit to the public tomorrow.”
    “You do that,” he murmured. “I’ll meet you back at the house later. Go straight there, will you, so I don’t have to search you out.”
    “Where else would I go?”

thirty
    A ndrew whistled as he walked into the house. He knew a grin was plastered on his face. It had been there all day. It wasn’t just the sex—well, he thought, jogging up the stairs, the sex hadn’t hurt. It had been a long dry spell for old Andrew J. Jones.
    But he was in love. And Annie loved him back. Spending the day with her had been the most exciting, the most peaceful, the most amazing experience he’d ever known. It had been almost spiritual, he decided with a chuckle.
    They’d cooked breakfast together, and had eaten it in bed. They’d talked until his throat was raw. So many words, so many thoughts and feelings bursting to get out. He’d never been able to talk to anyone the way he could talk to Annie.
    Except Miranda. He couldn’t wait to tell Miranda.
    They were going to be married in June.
    Not a big, formal wedding, nothing like what he and Elise had done. Something simple and sweet, that’s what Annie wanted. Right in the backyard with friends and music. He was going to ask Miranda to be his best man. She’d get such a kick out of that.

    He stepped into his bedroom. He wanted to get out of the wrinkled mess of the tuxedo. He was taking Annie out to dinner, and tomorrow, he was buying her a ring. She said she didn’t need one, but on that one issue he was going into override.
    He wanted to see his ring on her finger.
    He shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it aside. He vowed to shovel out his room sometime that week. He and Annie wouldn’t be moving in after they