father, his letter and her Beretta, just in case. Okay, so she might be a tad bit rash, and Shane was
right about one thing—she was independent—but after everything that had already happened, she
wasn’t stupid.
At the top of the hill, the road curved to the left and disappeared around the bend. To the left, a
small drive was marked with a small sign that read, THE GATE HOUSE. She made the turn and
slowed the Jeep as it bounced over holes in the road, then down a steep slope covered in flowering
vines and palms. It weaved around until finally opening and coming to a stop in front of a stately
three-story plantation-style building perched on a cliff that overlooked the bay on one side and the
Caribbean on the other.
Hailey killed the engine and climbed from the Jeep, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she took
in her surroundings. Salt permeated the air, and the crash of waves could be heard somewhere be-low. A small Jamaican boy, who couldn’t be more than three, appeared from the bushes and came
running up to her car.
Startled, Hailey looked down. A woman in a long red skirt hollered from the bushes and came rushing after him, speaking in a language Hailey didn’t understand. The woman looked her up and down
a few times before scolding the boy and ushering him back off into the trees.
Hands on hips, she inclined her head and said, “You be lookin’ for Miss Stella, I’m a guessin’.”
Stella? For the first time since she’d decided to come here, nerves bubbled in Hailey’s stomach. She
tucked her hair behind her ear and nodded. “Yes. I am. She lives here?”
“Aye, and works here.” The woman turned for the house, waved her hand for Hailey to follow. “She
not be expectin’ ya. She woulda told us had ya been a comin’.”
Expecting her. That meant this woman, Stella, knew all about Hailey. She followed down a long
path that led up to the stately white house with its wide porch and wood shutters. But they didn’t go
in. At the last second the woman veered away and followed a gravel path that ran around the side of
the house.
“Miss Stella be finishin’ up a class.”
Voices echoed from inside the house. Laughter, the sounds of children’s feet running.
“What is this place?” Hailey asked, adjusting the strap of her bag.
“Hmmm…” The woman seemed to mull over the question. “The Gate House is like a safe place for
women. Where dey can be creative. An artists’ school for dose who have the talent and nowhere
else to go.”
An artistic women’s shelter? Hailey had never heard of such a thing.
They passed out of the shade of the house and came around the back. A wide yard ran from the back
porch, down sloping grass to a view that looked out over the blue-green Caribbean.
“Oh, my,” Hailey said, taking it in.
“Miss Stella be in da rose garden.” The woman stopped. Pointed toward a flowering arbor to the
left. “Through that arch there. Follow the path ’til you find her.” Her attention shifted, and she began yelling in that language Hailey didn’t understand, then was gone.
Hailey headed toward the garden. The path wove through more trees and flowering bushes until she
found herself standing on the edge of another lawn, this one surrounded by roses of all shapes and
sizes and colors. A few chairs were set up in a half circle, and a slim woman with long blonde hair
stood with her back to Hailey at the far side, folding an easel.
Hailey cleared her throat and the woman stopped, turned with a smile and froze. “Oh…my God.”
She’d seen the picture, so Hailey shouldn’t have been surprised by the face, but she was. Because
the woman standing in front of her now looked like an older, prettier version of herself.
Neither moved. Or spoke. Finally Hailey stepped forward until they were no more than three feet
apart. “You seem surprised to see me here now, but not surprised in general.”
The easel forgotten, Stella lifted her hand to her mouth with wide eyes. “I…how did you find me?”
Hailey slid the bag from her shoulder and pulled out the picture and letter her father had left her.
She handed them to Stella and waited.
Stella’s eyes softened as she looked at the picture. Then, with hands Hailey noticed were shaking,
she opened the letter and began to read. Emotions passed over the woman’s face. Emotions Hailey
couldn’t quite read but that a tiny part of her hoped were sadness and regret.
When Stella finished reading, she folded the note, looked one more time at the photo and handed
both back to Hailey. And when her eyes lifted, they were damp. “How did he die?”
The details of her father’s death were not points Hailey wanted to talk about right now, so she said
simply, “A heart attack.”
Stella nodded. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
Hailey reached into the bag and pulled out the sculpture. “He left me this.”
Stella’s eyes widened, and she took the bronze with a shake of her head and wry smile. “I gave it to
him. He had such a love of art. It was our connection, you know. We used to talk about it all the
time. This”—she ran her fingers over the statue—“had been my mother’s. It was the only thing she
left for me when she died. It seemed right to give it to Garrett.”
“It’s worth a great deal of money, you know.”
Stella looked at the entwined lovers wistfully. “I didn’t know that at the time, but I do now. It
wouldn’t have mattered, though. I never cared about the money. Neither did your father.”
“How did you meet?”
On a sigh, Stella looked at Hailey. “I was working as a maid at your father’s first hotel. It had just
opened in Florida. He…” A smile slid across her face. “He nearly ran me over in the hall one morning when I was delivering coffee. It ended up all over him, all over me. I was so afraid he was going
to fire me. I was only twenty-one. My mother had died recently in a car accident and my father’s
health wasn’t very good. And we needed the money.” She glanced down at the bronze. Smiled so
sweetly it touched a spot in the center of Hailey’s heart. Maybe it wasn’t so numb after all. “He
didn’t, though. Your father laughed so hard he nearly cried. And then he whisked me off to find
clean clothes and apologize until he was blue in the face.”
“You loved him,” Hailey said, even before she realized her thought had been put into words.
“I did,” Stella said, nodding, cradling the bronze against her chest. “Very much. The few months we
were together were…some of the best of my life.”
“What happened?”
Stella sighed before handing the statue back to Hailey. “Your father was already engaged at the
time. To Eleanor Schmidt. I didn’t know it when we met. He didn’t tell me until after…after I found
out I was pregnant with you. I never would have been with him if I’d known, and…” She looked
down at her hands. “He told me he didn’t love her. That he didn’t want to marry her. But that he was
trapped because Eleanor’s father had invested a huge amount in his hotel endeavor. The success of
his company hinged on his marrying Eleanor. He told me he was going to try to get out of it,
though. And I, well…” She lifted her shoulders. Dropped them. “I believed him.”
“But he didn’t.”
Stella shook her head. “They wouldn’t let him. When your father told them I was pregnant,
Eleanor’s father came to see me. He tried to buy me off so I’d disappear with you. No one would
know about your father’s affair, he could marry Eleanor like had already been planned and things
would be the way they were supposed to be. But I wouldn’t agree. My father got involved then. He
was appalled at the things Phillip Schmidt demanded. Irate that they thought they could throw their
money around and get what they wanted. And when Garrett told the Schmidts he wasn’t going to
turn his back on me and his child, things got ugly.”
Hailey remembered how domineering her maternal grandfather had been. And the tension that had
always existed between Phillip and his son-in-law. “Then what happened?”
“Garrett was convinced we could make things work. Privately, he called off his engagement to
Eleanor, but I don’t think the family ever announced it. Things cooled down for about a month.
When your father and I were together, he didn’t talk much about the situation, and I was young and
so in love, I was afraid to bring it up and ruin our time together. Then my father died unexpectedly
and…I found myself all alone.
“I was scared. And anxious about the pregnancy. Garrett was working more and more, stressed
about the hotel. We argued. About nothing. About everything. It became clear if the Schmidts pulled
their support, he was going to lose all he’d worked so hard for. Every cent he’d had was in that hotel. Every cent his brother’d had. I couldn’t let him do that. I loved him too much.”
“So you left him? Left me?”
She shook her head sadly. “No, Hailey. I loved you. But I loved your father, too. Oh, it seems so silly to say it now, but back then, I was torn. Alone. Young. Confused. Afraid the way things were going, I was going to be raising you by myself with no money, no place to live. Nothing. And so when
Eleanor came to me and said she had a solution that worked for all of us, I listened.
“She knew Garrett was never going to ignore you. His sense of loyalty ran too deep. And she knew
he wouldn’t turn his back on me, either. But she was hurting, I could tell that, and I sensed a part of
her loved him, too. She suggested I be the one to walk away from him. That she would go on an extended trip so no one knew the truth, and when the baby was born—you—she would come back
and raise you as her own.”
“And you agreed to this? Just like that?”
“No. Not at first. But I thought about it a lot after she was gone. You have to remember I had nothing, Hailey. No education. No family. I’d lost my parents’ home to medical bills. Garrett was preoccupied with keeping the hotel afloat, and I felt like a burden. A mistake he’d made that he was now
paying for. I had to make a decision about what was best for him and for you and for all of us. And I
made the only one I felt I could at the time.”
She took a breath, and the slight action looked like it pained her. “I let you go. I let you both go.”
Hailey thought about Eleanor Roarke and all the years she’d spent feeling like an outsider in her
own family. Now she knew why. “But you never thought to contact me? Not once in thirty-four
years?”
“I couldn’t. It was part of our agreement. As long as I stayed out of your life, your father, his hotel,
you…all of it was safe. The only way Eleanor would agree to still marry your father after his infidelity was if his secret never came out.” Her eyes softened. “But I watched, Hailey. I knew where
you were, what you were doing. I was so proud of you when you went to Harvard. When you became a police officer. I have the newspaper clipping of your wedding in a frame in my bedroom.”
“I’m not married anymore.”
A sad smile crept across her face. “I know that, too.” She took a hesitant step forward. “It’s not that
I didn’t want you. I did. Very much. I…I need you to know that there hasn’t been a day that’s gone
by that I haven’t questioned my decision.”
Hailey looked at the bronze in her hands. “Did you ever see him again?”
Stella glanced down at the statue. Opened her mouth. Closed it.
“Don’t hold out on me now,” Hailey said.
“He came here to see me. Just over a month ago. After thirty-four years, he wanted a second
chance.” Sorrow filled her eyes. “Hailey, I’m remarried now. Happy. I met a man who loves me and
puts me first. A part of me will always love your father, but he…”
“Is part of your past,” Hailey finished when Stella’s words trailed off.
Sadly, Stella nodded. “I thought maybe that meant things had changed. I told him I wanted to see
you. But he warned me not to. Not until he had a chance to tell you the truth on his own. I had no
idea he would die before that happened.”
Hailey’s heart pinched. If her father had loved this woman as much as Hailey was beginning to believe, she couldn’t help wondering why he’d waited so long to go after the one thing he’d still so
obviously wanted. And what had happened to make him change his mind?
A fleeting thought of Shane passed through her mind, but she pushed it away. “Where did you go?
After you left?”
Stella walked across the garden and reached for a bloom from a nearby rosebush. “I traveled for a
while. Worked odd jobs to pay my way. Sold some paintings on the side for extra cash. In Louisiana
I met a woman who fell in love with my work and took me in. She was what you’d call an art connoisseur. She helped me get my paintings into a few key galleries.”
All of the sudden, the name registered in Hailey’s brain. “Stella? Stella Adams?” When Stella nodded, Hailey’s mouth dropped open. Several boxes in the bunker she’d just come from that morning
were labeled Adams. And Pete had a whole room set aside at Odyssey devoted to the famous landscape painter. “Oh, my God.”
A smile crept across Stella’s face. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She nodded back toward the
house. “The woman I mentioned in Louisiana? This was her mother’s home. I used to come here to
paint when I needed some space. When she died, her daughter suggested we set it up as an artists’
community. One especially for women with talent or interest who had nowhere else to go. I thought
it was a wonderful idea. If there’d been a place like this when I’d been pregnant with you…well,
things might have been very different.”
“Why didn’t he ever tell me?” Hailey asked. “I mean, as an adult. I understand why he kept quiet