Brent understood where Felicity was coming from. He did. Just like he understood Miss Eleanor’s feelings. But he was a researcher at heart. How could he just let something like this drop out of his findings? He’d feel like a fraud writing about the history of the area and leaving out something as significant as Prince Lawrence’s visits.
But he’d seen the anger and disappointment in both Miss Eleanor’s and Felicity’s eyes when he wouldn’t bend to their demands.
He could leave out any mention of Vera though, couldn’t he? But what if the next person coming along found out about her? Maybe he could write about Lawrence and Vera in a… gentler way.
He scowled, pushing aside any decision, and snapped open his laptop. Time to look into his own family and set the Whitmores aside for a bit. He searched online but found not many records were online for the area. In frustration, he closed his laptop, shoved it in his computer bag, and decided to head to the mainland to do some research in person.
He took the ferry, feeling its motors thrumming beneath him as it churned to a stop at the landing. He pulled his car off and made his way to his first stop at the county courthouse. He parked and got out of the car, his bag heavy with his laptop and handwritten notes. Squinting against the bright sun, he glanced up at the building, a stately brick structure with imposing columns lining the front of it. He climbed the stairs and pushed through the heavy wooden doors. The blast of air conditioning was a welcome break from the Florida heat.
His footsteps echoed on the marble floor as he approached the clerk’s desk, explaining his mission to search old records. The clerk, a friendly middle-aged woman with graying hair and laugh lines around her eyes, led him to a room filled with dusty tomes and microfiche readers. “Good luck,” she said with a smile. “The Wi-Fi password is history.” She smiled. “I know, not very secure, right? Let me know if you need any help. Oh, and don’t forget to take some breaks. It’s easy to lose track of time here.” With a knowing wink, she turned and left him alone with his task.
He stood for a moment, absorbing the quiet energy of the room. The history just waiting to be discovered. He set his bag down and got to work.
He spent hours poring over the records, his eyes straining in the dim light. Finally, he found what he was looking for—deed records and a census listing the Burton family. He smiled at his success as he printed off copies. He scribbled down the information in his notes, feeling a connection to his past growing stronger with each discovery.
Next, he drove to the local historical society, housed in a quaint Victorian-era home. The volunteer at the front desk seemed thrilled to have a visitor interested in local history. She eagerly showed him to their archives.
In a quiet corner of the building, he carefully leafed through yellowed documents and faded photographs. His persistence paid off when he stumbled upon his mother’s baptism records. “Joan Burton,” he whispered, tracing his finger over the name. Daughter of William and Mary Burton.
As the afternoon wore on, Brent’s excitement grew with each new piece of information he uncovered. He felt like a detective, piecing together the puzzle of his family’s past.
Just as he was about to call it a day, a small newspaper clipping caught his eye. It was an obituary for his grandmother. Brent’s heart skipped as he read the details, but then he froze. Something wasn’t right.
The obituary stated that his grandmother was survived by a daughter and a son. Brent frowned, his brow creasing in confusion. The date of her death was after the hurricane that had supposedly claimed Jonah’s life.
He read the article again, trying to make sense of this new information. How could his uncle have survived his grandmother if he’d died in the hurricane? Had Miss Eleanor been mistaken? Or was there more to this story than he’d been told?
He couldn’t wait to get back to the island and share the news with Felicity. See if she had any ideas about the discrepancy regarding Jonah. But then he remembered. She’d ask him to quit digging into the island’s history. She wouldn’t be pleased with yet another mystery.
He gathered his things and headed out to his car. Time to go home. Well, not home. Back to Magnolia Key. Even though it had started to feel like home to him, it wasn’t, he reminded himself. It was just somewhere he was staying while he did his research.
He parked his car on the ferry and went up top, leaning against the railing, his eyes fixed on the horizon as the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in vibrant purples and streaks of orange. The gentle rumble of the engine and the lapping of waves against the hull filled the air, but he barely noticed. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
He couldn’t help but think back to that evening not so long ago when he and Felicity had shared this same view. They had stood side by side, their hands brushing, a thread of connection and possibility between them. Now, he stood alone, the space beside him feeling oddly empty.
The cool sea breeze tousled his hair, and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to make sense of how quickly things had changed. He and Felicity had been so in sync, working together to unravel the mysteries of Magnolia Key. Now, it felt like an invisible wall had sprung up between them.
His hand unconsciously tightened on the railing. He understood Felicity’s hesitation, her desire to respect Miss Eleanor’s wishes. But the researcher in him couldn’t let go of the tantalizing threads of history he’d uncovered. The prince’s visits, the hidden letter, and now the puzzling discrepancy about his uncle Jonah’s fate—it all swirled in his mind, pieces of a puzzle he was desperate to solve.
He opened his eyes. The first stars began to appear as the sky darkened into a slate gray. The island grew larger as they approached. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. How had they gone from that moment of near intimacy to barely speaking? The mass of unspoken words and unresolved feelings hung between them like a heavy fog.
As the ferry chugged steadily toward the island, he found himself at a crossroads. Should he pursue the truth, potentially alienating Felicity and the islanders further? Or should he let it go, leaving the mysteries of Magnolia Key—and his own family history—buried in the past?
The last rays of sunlight disappeared below the horizon, and he turned away from the railing. With heavy footsteps he made his way to his car. Hard decisions had to be made.
As the ferry approached the island dock, he couldn’t shake the feeling that although he was nearing the island, a chasm of distance remained between him and Felicity. And maybe a chasm between him and the whole town of Magnolia Key.
Chapter19
Felicity barely saw Brent the next few days. He’d pop in for breakfast but didn’t really chat with her. Just a simple good morning. He didn’t bring his research down with him like he used to. He just ate his breakfast quickly and disappeared.
“Felicity, why don’t you get out today? Take a break? You’ve been helping me and cleaning out that shed. You need a break.” Gran took the last of the dishes from her hands.
“But I haven’t finished with the shed.”
“It will keep. Why don’t you do a little shopping in town? Go out for lunch. It’s better than moping around here.” Gran looked at her pointedly.
“I’m not moping…”
