Page 35 of The Pumpkin Patch Promise

“It's strange,” she said. “After everything I've spent years wondering about, I expected the truth to feel... bigger.”

Dahlia gave her a small smile. “Maybe it doesn't have to.”

Prue looked down at the record stub again.

“No,” she said. “Maybe it doesn't.”

For a few moments, nobody spoke. The afternoon light shifted across the table, catching on the edges of the yellowed paper.

Nell cleared her throat. “There is more,” she said.

Prue looked up.

“More?”

Nell drew a slow breath.

“When Leah died, we had to make some difficult decisions very quickly. As is so often the case, the people she was running from had considerable resources.”

“What kind of resources?” Teddy asked.

“Money. Lawyers. Connections everywhere.” Nell's expression hardened. “The family she married into had already hired private investigators. They were asking questions at regional bus stations and county offices throughout western Massachusetts.”

Prue stared at her.

“They were looking for her?”

“Yes.”

“And they knew she'd come here?”

“Not at first. But they were searching.”

A chill moved through Prue despite the warmth of the kitchen.

“How close did they get?”

“Close enough that we couldn't take any chances,” Nell said. “Once Leah was gone, we had to decide what would happen to you. If we'd notified the state authorities, or placed a newborn into county foster care, there would have been an investigation.”

“Into the sanctuary?” Prue asked.

“Yes. They would have wanted to know what happened, they’d find out the cottage existed, and they’d want to know who else had been staying there, and who had been helping them. But beyond that, Rosalind had made a promise and she didn’t intend to break it.”

Prue's stomach tightened.

“And Leah's family?”

“They could have used the system to try to claim custody of you. They were wealthy and well connected,” Nell replied. “They would have made the situation very complicated.”

Nell paused, her gaze moving briefly to the birth record on the table.

“Anthony stayed up most of that night in his office behind the cider barn, trying to work out what they could do. Rosalind was in the farmhouse kitchen with the baby.”

Prue could almost picture it: her mother awake through the night, holding a newborn while her father worked through every possible consequence.

“What did Dad say about all this? His wife had just promised to look after a baby that wasn’t theirs.”

“He would have promised exactly the same thing. He said that no court order or government agency could guarantee your safety from a family with that kind of influence. From the moment he had seen your tiny little face, he was smitten,” Nell continued. “Your birth was registered under Rosalind's name.”