“And incredibly sensitive,” Lynda added. “If we’re right about what this place was, there could be descendants of the women still living in Sapphire Bay. People who have no idea their family histories include forged documents and hidden identities.”
They reached the kitchen, where their abandoned breakfast waited on the table.
“How many people know about the room?” Susan asked Kathleen.
“Just us and Patrick.”
Isabel washed her hands under the faucet. “Don’t tell anyone else until the room is secure. Otherwise, you could have all kinds of people coming here.”
Kathleen turned on the coffeepot. “And that’s not something I want.”
“But right now,” Lynda said with a grin, “we need to get someone ready for her wedding.”
As Kathleen’s friends scattered to gather their things for the day’s events, she remained in the kitchen for a moment longer, looking through the window. Below her feet, the small room she’d found with Patrick held the secrets of women from over a century ago. Women who had faced impossible choices and found the bravery to start over.
Today, her best friend would marry the man she loved, surrounded by people who cared about her. But many years ago, in the small room, other women had made different kinds of new beginnings, supported by different kinds of love and dreams.
As she turned to join her friends, Kathleen sighed. Some discoveries were too important to face alone, and some friendships were strong enough to carry the weight of any secret, no matter how old or precious it might be.
Chapter 11
Patrick stood in front of the bathroom mirror in his cottage, adjusting his tie for the third time. The navy blue silk still felt too formal for Sapphire Bay, but Frank and Isabel’s wedding deserved his best effort.
He should have been thinking about the celebration ahead, about Isabel’s radiant smile when she walked down the aisle, or about how Frank’s eyes would light up when he saw his bride.
Instead, Patrick’s mind kept drifting to the hidden room beneath Kathleen’s house. Even now, hours after they’d climbed back upstairs, he could still picture the scattered papers and baby clothes that told stories of the women who had nowhere else to turn.
The discovery had shaken him more than he’d told Kathleen. As someone who’d spent decades in business, he understood what it took to help people society had abandoned. Creating false documents, providing sanctuary for unmarried mothers—whoever had run that operation had risked everything. Prison. Public disgrace. Financial ruin. Yet they’d done it anyway.
Patrick picked up his watch from the dresser and fastened it around his wrist. The simple gesture reminded him of the weight of time, of how quickly circumstances could change. Two days ago, his biggest concern had been whether the foundation repairs would come in under budget. Now he and Kathleen were sitting on what might be one of the most significant historical discoveries in western Montana.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand. Patrick glanced at the caller ID and frowned. Noah’s name appeared on the screen, and Patrick hesitated before answering. His grandson didn’t usually call on a Sunday morning unless something was seriously wrong.
“Good morning, Noah,” Patrick said, settling into the small armchair by the window. “I thought you were taking Cassie and the kids to the fair this morning.”
“We didn’t get there. Callum came down with a tummy bug, so we’re having a quiet day at home.”
“Patrick’s frown deepened. Callum was always a ball of energy. Even thinking about him being sick was worrying. “Is there anything I can do?”
“He’ll be okay,” Noah reassured him. “Cassie called the medical center, and they said to keep him hydrated. If he hasn’t improved by tomorrow, we’ll take him to see Zac. But that’s not why I called. We have a problem.” Noah’s voice carried a tension Patrick hadn’t heard in years. “A big one.”
Patrick’s chest tightened. “What else has happened?”
“It’s about my business. Meridian Capital made a move on Friday afternoon, right after the markets closed. They’ve been quietly buying up Wilson Enterprises stock for months. As of this morning, they control nearly thirty percent of outstanding shares.”
The words hit Patrick like a punch to the gut. Meridian had a reputation for hostile takeovers and asset stripping. They specialized in acquiring family businesses, breaking them apart, and selling the pieces to the highest bidder.
“Thirty percent?” Patrick kept his voice steady, though his mind was already racing through the implications. “That’s not enough for control, but it’s enough to cause serious trouble.”
“It’s worse than that. They’ve approached three of our major investors. Word is they’re offering a significant premium for additional shares. If they reach forty percent, they can force a board vote on new management.”
Patrick closed his eyes, seeing decades of work hanging in the balance. Wilson Enterprises wasn’t just a business—it was a legacy. Years ago, Noah had built an online shopping empire catering to the uber-rich. Patrick had invested a significant amount of money in the company, joined the board, and provided Noah with any help he needed.
“What’s the board saying?” Patrick asked.
“They’re panicking. Morrison wants to bring in outside consultants. Henderson thinks we should consider a white knight merger. And Cynthia...” Noah’s voice trailed off. “Cynthia thinks you should come back.”
“Cynthia’s always been dramatic.”
