Chapter 7 - The Bloodline
Three months later.
The summer sun was warm over Long Island Sound, turning the water into a vast sheet of glittering sapphire.
The cottage at the edge of the estate had been completely renovated, converted into a sunlit art studio and garden house. But Mae and Nora no longer lived there. They lived in the east wing of Ashford House, in a suite of rooms filled with fresh flowers, tall windows, and the sound of children’s laughter.
A formal DNA test had been filed with the New York State Family Court six weeks earlier. The results were ninety-nine point nine nine percent definitive. Nora Harper was legally recognized as Nora Ashford, primary heir to the Ashford family trust.
On this afternoon, the grand terrace overlooking the ocean was set with white linen tables, silver tea sets, and bowls of fresh raspberries.
Sitting at the main table was Mae’s mother, Helen Harper, resting comfortably in a wheelchair, wrapped in a light woolen shawl. Her health had improved dramatically over the past two months after being transferred to a private medical facility funded directly by the Ashford estate trust.
Helen looked at Nolan, who was currently sitting on the grass in his shirt sleeves, letting Nora paint a bright yellow flower on his expensive silk tie with watercolor paints.
“You’re letting her ruin that tie, Nolan,” Helen said with a warm, gentle laugh.
Nolan looked up, his face dotted with two small spots of green paint. “This tie was boring anyway, Helen. Nora’s improving it.”
Nora giggled, dipping her brush into the water cup. “It’s a sunflower, Daddy!”
“It’s a magnificent sunflower,” Nolan agreed solemnly.
Mae came out onto the terrace carrying a tray of fresh iced tea. She wore a simple, elegant yellow summer dress, her brown hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. She looked younger, lighter, as if ten years of fear had been erased from her skin.
She set the tray down and shook her head at Nolan. “You two are going to have paint on the carpet if you don't watch out.”
“The carpet can be washed,” Nolan said, standing up and brushing the grass from his pants. He picked Nora up, swinging her through the air until she squealed with laughter, then set her down near her grandmother’s chair.
“Go show Grandma your painting, sweetheart,” Nolan said.
Nora ran over to Helen, proudly displaying her messy paper.
Nolan walked over to Mae, standing beside her at the edge of the terrace railing, looking out over the ocean. The breeze blew her hair across her face, and Nolan gently reached out, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.
Mae looked up at him, her gray-green eyes searching his face. “Evelyn called today.”
“And?”
“The Wainwright bankruptcy papers were finalized this morning,” Mae said softly. “Arthur Wainwright pleaded guilty to tax fraud and corporate extortion. Celeste received probation and three hundred hours of community service.”
Nolan nodded slowly. “They’ll never cross our path again.”
Mae looked down at her hands resting on the white railing. “Sometimes... I still wake up in the middle of the night thinking I’m back in that cottage, terrified that someone is going to take her away from me.”
Nolan stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. He could feel the steady, soft warmth of her breath, the pulse in her neck.
“Nobody is ever taking her away,” Nolan whispered against her skin. “And nobody is taking you away either.”
Mae leaned back against his chest, closing her eyes, letting the ocean wind wash over them.
“Four years ago,” Nolan said softly into her ear, “I was stupid. I was overwhelmed, I was blind, and I let other people dictate how I should live my life. I lost four years with my daughter, Mae. I’m not going to lose another day with you.”
Mae turned around in his arms, her hands resting against his chest, right over his beating heart. “Nolan...”
Nolan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.
Mae’s breath caught in her throat.
It was not a loud, flashy ring designed for press releases or magazine covers. It was a delicate, vintage platinum band set with a single, clear emerald-cut diamond, simple, timeless, and pure.
“This belonged to my grandmother,” Nolan said, his voice soft, sincere, and filled with deep emotion. “She gave it to my father with the instruction that it should only be given to a woman who brought light into this house.”
He opened the box, looking straight into Mae’s eyes.
“You brought my daughter into this world, Mae. And you brought my soul back to life. Will you marry me?”
Tears filled Mae’s eyes, bright and clear as ocean water. She looked past Nolan to the lawn, where Nora was sitting on Helen’s lap, showing her the yellow sunflower painting, both of them laughing under the summer sun.
Mae looked back at Nolan, a beautiful, radiant smile spreading across her face.
May you like
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Nolan.”
He slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.
