Blood Kin by Judith E. French Page A

law—”
    He chuckled. “Elizabeth could have left her worldly goods to the SPCA if she’d wanted to. She told me that if you turned out to be responsible, she’d always intended that you should have her home.”
    â€œI don’t even know . . .” She tried to organize her thoughts. “The church cemetery. I was . . . rather . . . Yesterday I was looking around. I found Elizabeth’s . . .
Aunt
Elizabeth’s grave, and . . .” She balled her hands into fists on either side of her lap. “Elizabeth—Beth Tawes, the sixteen-year-old. Was she my birth mother?”
    â€œYes, she was.” Compassion swirled in his brown eyes. “She was a sweet girl, very bright. Everyone loved her. Except for hair color, you’re her spitting image. Beth was blond, like her mother. You have the Tawes look about you. Elizabeth’s hair was a dark auburn. Will’s too, when he was younger.”
    â€œHow did she die? My mother. Complications of childbirth?”
    â€œShe’d suffered some injuries in an accident. I believe the cause of death was listed as blood loss, but I suspect it was a combination of factors.”
    â€œWhat about the father? My father? Surely—”
    Forest shook his head. “Beth never said. There were speculations, of course, but no one came forward to claim paternity. You might check the church records. You were christened here at Thomas’s Chapel whenyou were several weeks old. There might be information there.”
    â€œI wasn’t placed for adoption immediately?”
    Forest shook his head. “No, if I recall correctly, you were closer to three months of age when you left the island.”
    â€œBut why? Who took care of me? And why—”
    â€œYour great-uncle, Will Tawes, Owen’s twin. He assumed custody at the time of your mother’s death. Elizabeth wanted you, but Will was always stubborn. He felt you were his responsibility.”
    â€œBut why did he give me up a few months later? And why didn’t Aunt Elizabeth step in then? Why place me for adoption if—”
    â€œI’m afraid I can’t answer those questions.” He looked uncomfortable.
    â€œSo the only one who can is Will Tawes himself?”
    Forest set down his cup and saucer, folded his arms over his three-button sport shirt, and leaned back in his chair. “He could give you the details if he wanted to, but he may not. Will’s not an easy nut to crack.”
    â€œHe could at least tell me about my mother’s death. And he could identify my birth father.”
    â€œMaybe, but I’m not sure how much he knows. Most people on Tawes think that if he did know who your father was, he’d have shot the man years ago.”
    A shiver flashed under Bailey’s skin. “He’s a violent person, then.”
    â€œI don’t know if
violent
is the right label for Will Tawes. In my opinion, he’s a tortured soul who’s suffered great personal loss and may have been wronged by the justice system. He is a hard man, but fair. Will lives by the code of simpler times. He may have been ahell-raiser in his youth, but to my knowledge, he hasn’t been in any real trouble for a quarter of a century.”
    â€œHe was at Elizabeth’s today. Upstairs. He said he was looking for something that belonged to him.”
    â€œHe spoke to you?” Forest looked surprised.
    â€œHe told me that I shouldn’t have come to Tawes, that it wasn’t safe for me here.” She edged forward in the seat. “Should I be afraid of him?”
    â€œNo, I highly doubt that. He’d have no reason to—”
    â€œWhat if he’s angry that his sister left her estate to me?”
    Forest shook his head. “Will wouldn’t have expected anything. He’s not avaricious, and he’s no thief. If he told you that he was hunting for something of his, believe him. Will is somewhat of an