Emma sipped her tea, barely able to keep her hands from shaking. Jane turned out to be quite the chatterbox, going from one subject to the next. It didn’t bother Emma at all as she was learning a great deal about the town where Jane lived.

The entire time, Emma waited for an opening. A mention of a missing daughter or sister, but neither brought it up. It made her wonder if they didn’t miss the girl, or if it was too painful a memory.

“Let’s start supper,” Mrs. Milligan said with a bright smile. “We’re having chicken and dumplings, Emma. You and Patrick must stay.”

Jane took Emma’s hand. “Have you tried Mama’s dumplings yet?”

“No. I have not,” Emma replied with a smile. “By how your face brightened at the mention of it, I bet they are good.”

It was cute the way Mrs. Milligan blushed. “I have already taught Jane how to make them. How about I teach you as well, Emma?”

The conversation remained light as they rolled out the dough and Mrs. Milligan instructed Emma on how to slide it. Chicken boiled in a large pot as they chopped a small mountain of carrots. Emma was enjoying herself so much she almost forgot her main purpose for being there.

“I’ll see about fetching water,” Jane announced and went to the back door to get a pail.

Mrs. Milligan turned to Emma. “She’s such a joy. I miss her so.”

“I can understand,” Emma said. “I’ve already grown to care for her. She is so friendly and nice to me.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Milligan hugged Emma while trying to keep her hands from touching her. “I know she is also enjoying your company, dear.”

It was the perfect moment. Emma’s mouth dried up as she formed the question. “You only had one child then? Just Jane?”

Mrs. Milligan sighed, her shoulders lifting and lowering as she looked out the window. “No, I have a second daughter.”

“You do?”

“Yes, her name is Beth. She is one year younger than Jane. So about twenty-one now.”

Emma didn’t move, her entire body frozen. “Wh-where is she?”

It was a moment before the woman replied. “She was taken from us seventeen years ago on the eve of her fifth birthday.”

“Oh.” Emma paused. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Slowly, Mrs. Milligan’s lips curved upward. “You know, I like to think of Beth during happy moments like this. I pray she is also happy right now.”

There was a sound behind them as Jane returned with the water. “Who are you referring to Mama?”

“I am telling Emma about Beth.” Mrs. Milligan picked up a large spoon and dipped it into the pot. “Time to add the carrots.”

Jane picked up the bowl of carrots and Emma followed her to the pot. “I remember Beth. She was so cute and sassy. Wasn’t she, Mama?”

“Yes, she was a feisty, little thing.”

“Did...does she have any distinguishing birthmarks or anything that would help you recognize her if you were ever to see her again?” It was as if her heart was about to beat out of her chest as she waited for one of them to reply. Of all the things, the large, heart-shaped, red mark on her left shoulder would be memorable.

“She was blonde, but I’m sure her hair has darkened,” Mrs. Milligan said.

“Oh Mama.” Jane laughed. “Hair color is not a birthmark.”

Mrs. Milligan frowned. “No, I suppose it’s not. She did have that red mark. “On her shoulder. I am not sure if it went away. But it’s not something we could see since it would be covered by her clothes.”

“Ah yes, it covered most of her shoulder and on to her back. Not sure what caused it...”

As if in a tunnel, darkness encircled Emma and the voices became faint, the conversation barely audible over the drumming in her ears. The sound of blood rushing was like a waterfall cascading and she grabbed for a chair in order not to lose her balance as the room tilted this way and that.

Thankfully, she was able to collapse onto a chair. There was so much she wanted to say. This was not the time to faint. Was it possible? No, she’d obviously misheard. Her mind played tricks because she wanted so dearly to belong to this wonderful family.

“Emma?” Two blurry faces swam in front of her and Emma tried to blink them away.

“I-I’m fine.” Her voice echoed, sounding faint. “I can’t...”

“You can’t what, dear?” Mrs. Milligan’s voice was clearer this time. “Jane, be a dear and get her some water.”

They helped her swallow water and Mrs. Milligan lowered to a chair next to her. The woman tapped her hand and smiled. “Are you in the family way, dear?”

“What?” The question snapped Emma back to alertness. “No. I don’t believe so.”

Jane peered down at her. “You lost all color in your face. It’s beginning to come back now. I thought you were about to faint.”

“Please sit down.” Emma told them. “I have something to show you. Please don’t say anything until you see it.”

Her eyes widened as she and Mrs. Milligan exchanged worried looks.

“What is it, dear girl? You’re making me nervous. Are you injured?”

“Mama, she said not to say anything,” Jane scolded and Emma couldn’t help by smile.

Ever so slowly she unbuttoned her blouse. “I am not injured.” Her throat dry, she swallowed and slid the left side of the clothing down off her shoulder. “I have this birthmark. I just found out my parents were not actually kin to me.”

Mrs. Milligan screamed and Jane’s mouth fell open. Emma hurriedly closed her blouse as she spotted the men running toward the house.

“Dear God!” Mrs. Milligan rushed to Emma, tears pouring down her face as she hugged her so tightly that Emma could barely breathe. She, too, was crying as she hugged the woman back.

Jane was also crying. “Could it be? Do you think you’re Beth? Our Beth?”

“I don’t know,” Emma said between tears. “The woman informed me just days ago my real name is Beth.”

The door burst open, Mr. Milligan the first one through. “What happened? Beatrice, are you hurt? Jane?”

Patrick cleared his throat. “I do believe there is news you will want to hear, Mr. Milligan.”

Mrs. Milligan rushed to her husband and took his hand. She tugged him to where Emma stood frozen. “Show him, Emma dear.”

Instead of just her fingers, her entire body shook as she once again slid the left side of her blouse down, exposing the large, red birthmark.

“Dear God.” Pastor Milligan studied her face for a long moment. “Why did I not see it before? Look at her nose, Beatrice. It’s just like Jane’s and yours. Her eye color matches mine.”

Jane cried out and hugged Emma tightly. “I’ve been praying for you to come home for so long. I thought God wasn’t listening. He timed it perfectly when I was here.”

Again, the woman began to cry. Emma couldn’t look away from her father as tears slid down his cheeks wetting the front of his shirt. “Come here, girl.”

For the first time in her life, Emma felt loved. And in her father’s arms, she understood what, exactly, it should feel like.

In that instant, she knew how love felt as the older man touched her not with malice or to hurt her, but to relish his child.

Emma laid her head on his chest, content to remain there, praying for time to stop as her father kissed the top of her head. “Thank the Lord for bringing you home.” His voice was gruff with emotion.

Over her father’s shoulder, she looked to Patrick and his shiny eyes met hers. She smiled at the warmth emanating from him.

And in that instant, she had no further doubt.

She was in love with her husband.

An hour later, the women continued stopping mid-sentence to cry at something. Emma was the center of attention and she didn’t mind one bit.

She told them about her life, while leaving out the worst parts of it. “I was always poor. I only had one dress and pair of shoes. But I worked here and there to make money to buy what I needed. We moved here about ten years ago. Of course, I could be wrong. I never knew time too well since one day kind of flowed to the next one.”

“Your birthday is April tenth,” Mrs. Milligan said. “We will have a huge celebration. Patrick, your parents must come as well.”

Emma didn’t think she had any tears left but, once again, she began crying. “I didn’t realize until now that we never celebrated my birthday. I asked once when it was and they told me it didn’t matter.”

Mrs. Milligan hugged her close. “You will be celebrated every single year from now on. I am sure Patrick will make sure of it.” It was comical to see Patrick’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Of course. And I will ensure my parents come for the celebration.”

“Let’s talk a minute.” Patrick pulled Emma to the other room and she was immediately engulfed in his arms and her face covered in kisses. “Stop crying please.”

How did she ever get so fortunate to be surrounded by so much love? Emma gulped back the urge to cry anew. “I am trying. I will try...”

When his lips pressed over hers, it was with the sweetest of kisses. “I think you should remain here for a day or two. Get to know them. Even if I tried to take you home in the morning, I’m sure there would be protests. Your father has already asked that we stay an additional day while Jane is here. I have to return home to work tomorrow.”

Although she hated the idea of being separated from Patrick, Emma couldn’t demand he stay. “Very well. But know that I will miss you terribly.” She hugged him close and closed her eyes.

The following morning after Patrick left, Emma joined Mrs. Milligan and Jane in the front parlor where they waited for her with expectant expressions.

“Ask us any questions you may have,” Mrs. Milligan said.

“Very well,” Emma hesitated. “What is my full name?”

“Elizabeth Rose,” Jane piped up. “But we always called you Beth.”

Elizabeth. It felt foreign and she allowed it to sink in. “Elizabeth Rose. It’s very pretty.”

Mrs. Milligan reached for her hand. “Do you wish to keep the name Emma?”

“In a way, I don’t. They gave it to me. But I am used to it. I would like you to call me Beth, however.” She studied her mother’s face. “Can I call you Mother?”

“That would make her very happy.” Pastor Milligan stood at the door. “And I hope you feel comfortable calling me Papa soon.”

“Of course, I will,” Emma cried and rushed to him. “This is all so overwhelming. My mind is reeling.”

When he hugged her, a feeling of familiarity slammed into her so hard, she couldn’t help but sag.

“You were always a daddy’s girl,” her mother exclaimed. “Like two peas in a pod.”

Jane crossed her arms. “I suppose I can’t be the center of attention anymore.”

Everyone laughed and Emma was grateful for the moment to compose herself.

The entire day consisted of talking and being introduced to her new family’s dynamics. Emma didn’t tire of asking questions and was thrilled to receive some of her childhood possessions. Every so often doubt would creep in. What if it was all a mistake and she wasn’t really who they thought she was?

Her mother pulled her aside that afternoon. “I have something to show you.” She opened a box. In it were a lock of hair, a tooth and a small, cloth doll.

“Molly!” Emma exclaimed, suddenly remembering her favorite toy. “I remember her...I remember.” She hugged the doll close. “I dropped her, didn’t I?”

Mrs. Milligan nodded, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. “Yes, the day you were taken, we found her on the ground.” Her mother sighed. “They left us this box one day with the lock of hair and the tooth. It was on our front porch. It was about two months after you disappeared. That was when we left Bardwell and moved here.”

Her gaze moved toward the window, but Emma knew she was not seeing the current surroundings. “I thought it meant you had died. I was inconsolable. I cried until I got sick. Thank God for Jane. If she wasn’t there for me to care for, I’m not sure what would have happened.”

There were so many things she wanted to ask and know about. For now, she’d enjoy spending time with her parents and sister. Already, she and Jane had stayed up until the early morning talking and forming a bond.

For the moment, Emma wanted to soak in everything, enjoy her time there and, for the first time, learn what family was and how it worked.

* * *

Evening came. The house was quiet as Jane and her husband had gone to their bedroom. Her mother nudged Emma. “Go speak to your father. He is out on the porch brooding.”

“He has been quiet.”

Although it was quite chilly outside, her father had stubbornly remained on the porch, claiming to need time to think.

Her mother looked toward the doorway. “For a long time, he blamed himself for what happened to you. You were taken during a picnic. I had gone with Jane to pick flowers and he was to look after you.”

It was hard to imagine the pain her parents had gone through. “I’m sure it wasn’t his fault.”

“No, it wasn’t. You’d fallen asleep and we’d left you under a small shelter where we could keep an eye on you. To this day, we don’t know how someone got away with it. Except there was a distraction of a bonfire being lit. That could have been the moment it happened.”

Emma pulled her shawl tight as she walked outside. Without speaking, she sat next to the silent man and looked up at the sky. They remained without speaking. Somehow, just sitting there in the dark together seemed to be enough.

Whatever bonds she and her father had truly felt comforting now. Emma mourned for her younger self, who had been so lonely and sad, missing her father. Now she understood the ache in her chest whenever she thought of her childhood. Over the years, she’d protected herself by not thinking about those early years.

“Do you see that form there?” her father asked, pointing to the sky.

“The hourglass?” Emma asked, a smile lifting her lips. “I love the stars.”

“You used to say it was your favorite. It’s called Orion.”

“Orion,” she repeated. “Beautiful.”

Once again, they fell silent and Emma shivered. Her father pulled her to his side. “I was so angry with God, I stopped attending church with your mother. I would leave for weeks searching for you.” He kissed the top of her head. “It wasn’t until your mother threatened to go home to her parents that I finally stayed home.”

“I wish you wouldn’t blame yourself. It was Davis’ fault. He was the one who did this.”

So many years had gone by and the pain was still so raw. How could someone be so cruel? Not just Davis, but Hazel as well.

“You know,” her father said. “He was angry because I fired him for drinking too much. He was gone about a month before you went missing. We never put two and two together. How I wish we would have.”

Emma pushed away and turned to him. “Let’s start from now. We cannot change the past or ever get the time back. However, I find that I am excited at what the future holds. I am happy and so content to be part of this family.”

“You’re a pretty and smart little lady. Must have gotten that from your mother.”

“Definitely, because I wouldn’t sit out here in the cold.” They laughed as Emma stood and held her hand out. “Let’s go inside, Papa.”