Almost A Bravo. Christine Rimmer

to try to count those lilies.

      They ate the pizza right there in the front room, paper plates in their laps, clutching paper napkins. Percy talked of the ongoing hunt for her brother Finn, lost in some frozen wilderness on the other side of the world.

      He was so sure they would have Finn back home eventually. “We shall never give up the search, never surrender the quest,” he declared, like some latter-day Winston Churchill. And then he gave her his sweetest, dottiest smile and asked, “But how are you doing, my dear?”

      Aunt Daffy, slim and straight even at eighty-plus, her silver hair in soft waves framing her narrow, wrinkled face, piped up with, “Yes. Tell us everything.”

      Aislinn realized she wanted to—needed to—tell someone. Or maybe she was just ready to get it all out. “It has to be only between us, for now, anyway, until I figure out what I’m going to do next, until I’m ready to tell the whole family.”

      “And so it shall be,” declared Daffy, sharing a nod with her brother.

      It was so simple after that. She swore them to secrecy and then she told them. Everything. About her summer at Wild River Ranch, her college-girl crush on Jaxon, about Martin Durand, about that letter he’d written claiming to be her father and to have switched her with her mother’s real daughter on the day she was born, about the terms of his will—and yes, she had meant to keep all those secrets until after she’d shared everything with Keely. But she really needed answers now.

      When she’d told it all, Daffy asked, “Will you marry the man?”

      “I don’t know.”

      “Is he a good man?”

      “Yes. Yes, I do believe that he is.”

      “And your feelings for him...?”

      “Aunt Daffy, that was years ago.”

      Daffy peered at her closely. “I think you still like him.”

      “I do like him. And whether I decide to marry him or not in the next week, I’m counting on you two to keep my confidence about all of this.”

      “We’ve given you our word,” Percy intoned.

      Daffy promised, “We will not let you down.”

      “Thank you. And what I really came here for was to ask you both if you recall how Mom always said I was born in Montedoro?”

      Daffy waved a hand. “Ah, our Marie. So full of fun and fantasy.”

      “But is it true? Was I born at Villa Della Torre?”

      Daffy and Percy shook their heads in unison. Daffy said, “Your mother loved that story. Sometimes I think she even started to believe it.”

      “Oh, God.” Aislinn felt sick to her stomach. “Just tell me the truth, please. I really do have to know.”

      Daffy patted her shoulder, a touch meant to soothe her. “You were her firstborn daughter, her little princess—and of course you had to have been born in a villa overlooking the Mediterranean.”

      “You’re saying she just made it up?” Her heart was a ball of lead in her chest.

      “Well, it wasn’t only that Marie considered you her little princess, it was that you fell in love with all things royal,” Daffy said, as if that explained everything. “You do remember your princess phase?”

      “Yeah, I remember.” She’d had three princess dresses, in pink, blue and yellow, each with a big tulle skirt and a train. Her mom had made her a princess room, with glittery stars on the ceiling and a bed like a throne. She’d had four tiaras, each more sparkly than the last. And a magic wand, too—because when you’re five, the line between princess and fairy is a blurry one.

      “You loved the story of your Montedoran birth,” Daffy reminded her. “As did your mother. It just seemed harmless and sweet to indulge you both. And, well, the years went by, didn’t they? We lost Finn and then your mother and father, and the story simply stuck. Now and then you would mention it, but until now, you’ve never asked directly if it might actually be true.”

      And that brought her to the next big question. “So, where was I born, then?”

      Uncle Percy rose from the circular settee. When he reached her, she stood from her wing chair. He took her hand in his wrinkly one. His faded blue eyes held hers. “I’m afraid that this Martin Durand fellow had it right about that much, at least.”

      “Oh, no...” The two words came out as barely more than a whisper.

      Percy nodded slowly. “You were born at Wild River Ranch during a punishing storm with catastrophic flash flooding and power lines down across much of the state.”

       Chapter Three

      Before she left Valentine House, Aislinn agreed to contact the PI who’d found Madison and Paula Delaney. She agreed to arrange it so that Percy could get a copy of the final report on the search and ask questions about the case.

      Percy, who loved playing detective, promised not to try to get in touch with Madison Delaney until after Daniel and Keely returned from Bora Bora and they could call a family meeting to bring all the Bravos up to speed on the strong possibility that they had a sister they didn’t know they’d lost.

      Next, Aislinn went to the Bravo family house. The short trip to the house she’d grown up in wasn’t really necessary. She believed what Daffy and Percy had told her, that she’d actually been born at Wild River Ranch. But it had occurred to her that there was one more proof she could easily check.

      Gretchen Snow, Keely’s aunt and the mother of Daniel’s deceased first wife, Lillie, answered the door. The plump, sunny-natured Gretchen was looking after Daniel’s twin toddlers, Frannie and Jake, while Daniel and Keely were gone. The twins were already in bed. Gretchen gave Aislinn a hug and then left her alone in the study at the front of the house.

      Daniel had a twelve-drawer wooden file cabinet in there that used to belong to George Bravo. In a folder labeled with her name, Aislinn found her childhood immunization record, her original social security card and a few random report cards from middle school and high school. And also, her birth certificate, which listed her place of birth as Astoria, Oregon.

      Wild River Ranch had an Astoria address.

      It was enough to completely convince her of one thing, anyway. The story of her Montedoran birth was just that: a sweet fairy tale told to her by her mother—or at least, by the woman she’d always believed was her mother.

      * * *

      As she was leaving the Bravo house, she got another call from Jaxon. She ignored it. Instead, she went home, took care of her rabbits and ate some leftovers. After dinner, she went out to the shed she used as a studio.