Slowly, she opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times before yawning. “Good morrow, Hope,” she said with a lazy smile—and then her eyes opened wider. “Guess what I did?”
I sat up in our bed, bent over so my head would not hit the slanted ceiling above. “What did you do?”
Her lazy smile turned into a grin. “I rode in an aeroplane.”
Elation rushed through me as I remembered what it had felt like to take my first flight.
“With Luc?” I asked.
She nodded. “There’s so much to tell you.”
“I want to know everything.”
Grace glanced out the window behind her and said, “We need to get up. Father will expect breakfast before we leave for Salem Towne.” She started to scoot around me, but I put my hand on her shoulder.
“What did you think of flying?”
She put her finger to her lips to quiet me. “What if Father or Susannah hears you? They’ll think I was on a broomstick last night.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Tell me!”
Grace let out a sigh. “It was magnificent—as you said it would be.”
I bit my bottom lip to keep from grinning and sayingI told you soas a surge of jealousy rushed through me. I pushed it aside, trying to be happy for her. “Did you decide to make the trip to California?”
“Yes. I will go back to Hempstead Plains tomorrow morning, and Luc will give me my first lesson.”
A deep and lonely melancholy stole over me unexpectedly. I had to look down for fear I would steal Grace’s joy. The last thing I wanted was to discourage her from learning to fly. She needed to do this for our parents—and I wanted her to do it for herself, too.
Thankfully, she was too elated to notice my unhappiness, and she continued.
“I almost forgot! I discovered that Tacy is in California, married to a movie director.”
“A movie director?” I said in a stunned whisper. “Our mother is married to a movie director?”
“And,” Grace said, fairly bouncing with her news, “she might be an actress—just like you. Maybe we saw her in a movie.” She shook her head, her mood dipping. “But her mother was cold and unforgiving, which makes me very sad. She said Tacy left New York twenty-four years ago.”
“Which is when she was hanged in this path.”
“Yes.” Grace nodded. “Her life here must have affected her life there.”
“I imagine she was devastated to leave us. Can you imagine how difficult that must have been?”
“I can’t wait to find her and ask what happened.”
“In California?”
Grace stood and began to dress. “I decided to make the flight after talking to J. B. Thurston, but—”
“You went to Thurston? Daddy told you not to.”
“I had to try—but I made it worse.” She shook her head, as if to move past that bit of information. “I wired a newspaper in Los Angeles, asking if they can help me find Tacy Barclay, though I said she probably has a married name now. But how many Tacys can there be in California? It’s not a common name. Hopefully I’ll have an address for her by the time I get there.”
“Ifshe’s still alive,” I added.
“Yes, of course.”
I also rose from our bed, not quite as eager as Grace to start the day but knowing I needed to be ready to serve breakfast. I pushed aside her comment about Thurston, hoping he wouldn’t cause her more trouble, and began to dress.
