She nodded. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t write about it and put it in his book. But for now, at least, Miss Eleanor’s family had been spared.
Brent stood at the window in his room, watching the evening slip in over the water. The stars blinked up above in a sight that still amazed him with their clarity. Moonlight spilled across the tops of the waves as they rolled endlessly to shore.
He thought his presentation had gone well today. And he’d successfully dodged the question about Bardonzia. He hadn’t missed the looks that Miss Eleanor had sent in his direction when he’d first come out on the stage, then her face had remained impassive the rest of his talk.
He frankly had been surprised to see Felicity in the crowd. Then, once he’d known she was there, he’d hoped that she and Darlene would come up to talk to him after his presentation. But as the crowd faded away, both of them were gone.
He didn’t know who was avoiding whom more. He or Felicity. He wanted to talk to her, but he couldn’t give her the one thing she wanted. An assurance that nothing would be said about Vera and Lawrence.
He turned back to the desk and opened his laptop. Now that his presentation was over, he wanted to devote more time to his own family’s history. The laptop cast a low glow over the table as his fingers flew over the keys, researching anything he could find on a Jonah Burton.
He rubbed his eyes and leaned closer to his laptop screen, his eyes scanning through the search results for “Jonah Burton.” He’d been at this for hours, methodically sifting through information, eliminating possibilities one by one.
A Jonah Burton who’d been a schoolteacher in Georgia? No, that probably wasn’t him. Another who’d worked as a farmhand in Alabama? Possibly, but unlikely. Brent clicked through page after page, his determination growing with each dead end. But then, maybe his grandmother’s obituary was wrong and Jonah had died in the hurricane. He began to lose hope.
Then something caught his eye. A Jonah Burton who had worked at the port in Port Everglades. His pulse quickened. This could be it. He remembered that his uncle had worked at the marina here on Magnolia Key. It made sense that he might have found similar work elsewhere.
He pulled up a map on his screen, his fingers tapping impatiently as he waited for it to load. When it did, he let out a low whistle. Port Everglades was on the other side of the state, but it was only two and a half hours away.
He zoomed in on the route, noticing a stretch of road that cut straight across the state. “Alligator Alley,” he murmured, recalling hearing locals mention it before. It was a direct shot from one coast to the other through the Everglades.
He sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin. He could make that drive easily. He could go there and see what he could find out in person. Records, people who might have known Jonah—maybe someone had known him.
He glanced at his watch. It was late, but his mind was scrambling with possibilities. He could leave first thing in the morning and be there before lunch. The prospect of uncovering more about his family’s history, about the possibility of an uncle he’d never known, was too tempting to ignore.
He began to plan. He’d let Darlene know he’d be gone for the day. He’d have to gather some documents, just in case. But mostly, he needed to be prepared for whatever he might discover.
Chapter21
The next morning, Felicity woke up at the first light. She hurried to get up so she could help Gran with breakfast. She hummed under her breath as she slipped on her clothes, realizing how much lighter she felt since she’d made her decision to quit her teaching position. The school had gratefully accepted her resignation, and the principal had said he was sorry to see her go. Now, she just had to figure out what to do with her life from now on. But working here with Gran was a good middle ground.
She went down the back stairs into the kitchen because it was quicker—not to avoid Brent, of course. Gran was busy frying bacon. She went over and kissed her on the cheek. “Morning.”
“Morning. Did you sleep well?”
“I did.”
Gran eyed her. “And Brent left for the day, so you can quit trying to avoid him this morning.”
She laughed. “I wasn’t.”
“Right.” Gran smiled patiently as she turned back to the skillet.
“Where did he go? Did he say?” She kept her voice nonchalant, as if she were just making conversation, not like she really cared.
Gran glanced back over her shoulder. “He didn’t say, just that he’d be gone most of the day.”
She was kind of sorry she’d missed him. She did wonder if he’d found anything else about his family and had tentatively—possibly—planned on asking him today. She couldn’t avoid him forever, could she?
As if Gran could read her thoughts, she turned from the stove, spatula in hand. “Now that you’ve made your decision, don’t you think it’s time to talk to Brent? Wasn’t the uncertainty about your decision regarding teaching part of the reason you were leery about starting up a relationship with him? But that’s been decided now.”
“I still don’t know what I’m going to do if I’m not a teacher.”
“But you have a place to live and time to figure that out. And you seem… happier now that you’re not returning to your teaching job.”
“I have to admit that I do feel a sense of relief. A great sense of relief.” She grabbed a stack of plates from the cabinet, hoping to distract Gran from this line of questioning.
“So why don’t you talk to him?”
