Blood Kin by Judith E. French Page B

eccentric. He keeps to himself, and when he does show his face, people stay clear of him.”
    Forest offered her a scone, but as appetizing as they looked, she was no longer hungry. “I’m sorry. I wanted . . . That is, I’d hoped . . .” She exhaled softly. “I’m not usually at a loss for words. I teach fourth grade, and I’m used to keeping my students’ attention for hours at a time.”
    â€œYou were naturally curious about your birth family.”
    â€œExactly. My parents—my adoptive parents—were very good to me. I never wanted for anything. But they were older when I came to live with them. I spent a lot of time in day care, and they were never . . .” She forced a smile. “I don’t mean to whine. I loved both my mother and father, and I had great respect for them. But I always felt that I was an afterthought. That perhaps they would have been happier with a miniature poodle.”
    â€œThey were dog people?” He glanced at the retrieversand smiled. “At times, I can see how someone could prefer dogs to—”
    â€œNo. We never had any pets. Mother said she didn’t care for dog hair or the mess. Both of them were conscientious, active in community affairs—simply not very affectionate. I always knew that I was adopted, but it wasn’t a subject that was discussed in our home.”
    â€œSo you knew nothing of your background?”
    â€œNothing. I had a lively imagination, and I came up with all sorts of scenarios. My favorite was that I was a princess stolen by kidnappers and sold on the black market when it became too dangerous to collect the ransom.”
    â€œSorry. No royalty. The closest the Tawes family can claim to royalty is the daughter of a Nanticoke sachem back in the early seventeen hundreds. Her name was Leaf . . . Leaf something. Matthew would probably know. You’ve met our pastor, I understand.”
    â€œEverything I’ve done since I’ve set foot on this island seems to be common knowledge.”
    Forest laughed. “You think it’s bad for you? I was born here. Matthew’s wife, Grace, can probably tell you every misdeed my father ever committed in the first grade. We like to think of Grace as our community conscience. She hears, she remembers, and she records for posterity. She’s younger than I am, but she seems to have mind-melded with some higher source that all ministers’ wives have access to.”
    â€œI suspected that when I met her, but she was pleasant to me, invited me in for coffee. She loaned me her bike to use while I was on Tawes.”
    â€œGood. I’m glad you have transportation, because things may take a little longer to resolve than I first thought.”
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œYesterday, when I was going over old deeds in the courthouse, I came upon a little snag, a minor conflict about property lines going back to the mid-eighteen fifties. Nothing to trouble yourself about. It all goes to you, but I need to clear this up so that there will be no problems if you decide to sell the property.”
    â€œHow long are we talking about? Should I go home and—”
    â€œNo, no need to do that. A few days, perhaps a week. Certainly no longer. I think you should stay on at Emma’s, take the opportunity to see something of the island. I understand the school where you teach doesn’t open until September.”
    â€œYes, after Labor Day. But I didn’t plan on staying so long.”
    â€œSometimes, Miss Elliott, the best things in life come to us through serendipity. You really should know something of your heritage. Tawes is quite an amazing place, unmatched anywhere in the world. The islanders, for all their quaint ways, possess an amazing strength, sustained by their faith in God and the bounty of the earth and the tides.”
    â€œYou sound more like a poet than a lawyer.”
    â€œYou’ve caught me out. I’m a