Page 99 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass

She did as she was told.

“Your T-shirt too.”

That came off next.

He wrapped the wool blanket around her and pulled off his slicker, then unzipped his jacket and hugged her tight, cloaking her in his body heat. “Let’s warm you up.”

She clung to him, wrapping her arms around his waist as she trembled. “I didn’t notice that I was… I just—It’s peaceful here. Quiet.”

He pressed a long kiss to the top of her head as he slid his hands up and down her back. She was here in his arms, but he was no less concerned now than he had been before he found her. “What are you doing down here? I was worried sick when I couldn’t find you.”

“I needed to run,” she said as her voice broke, and she nuzzled her face into his neck, taking several trembling breaths. “I didn’t realize I was coming here until I looked up and saw that I was at the bluffs.”

He sighed and rested his cheek on her damp hair, hating that she was hurting. “What’s going on?”

“I’m drawn to her—to Mary and her sad story. I think she’s one of the reasons I came to the island. I read about her in a brochure in my hotel room. Then I arrived at the cottage and I found you.”

He eased back, wiping away her tears.

She closed her eyes as her lips trembled and more tears fell.

“Callie.” He cupped her cheeks, stroking her frigid skin. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

Sniffling, she met his gaze. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Then start anywhere.”

“There’s so much about me that I haven’t told you. So many things I didn’t want you to know. You’ve asked me questions and I haven’t been entirely honest. I’ve skimmed over my answers—left out the details I hate the most. The ones I wish weren’t true and prefer to ignore.”

He wanted to draw away, to protect himself when he had no idea what she was about to say, but he kept her close, knowing that she was in pain. “Okay.”

“I found my mother today—or I think so, anyway.” She dashed at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “The woman I assume is her.”

He felt himself frown when he’d been expecting her to confess to him pretty much anything but that.

“Isn’t that awful?” She lost her composure again and pulled away from him, turning her back as she fought to shore herself up. “I have no idea who she is. Who I am.”

He closed the distance between them and rested his hands on her rigid shoulders. Even when Callie needed him the most, her first defense was to push him away. He wasn’t going anywhere. “You’re adopted?”

“Yes.”

He turned her to face him. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He kissed her forehead. “Nothing at all.”

“But I am. I don’t even know my name. I’m Callie May Something. My surname could be anything.” She shrugged. “And my age? I don’t even know my birthday.”

He touched his forehead to hers. “You were abandoned.”

She nodded. “They left me,” she said quietly, as she looked down. “At a diner in the middle of the night. I was four years old—”

“You were four years old?” Of all the things she’d said so far, that surprised him the most.

She looked at him again. “That makes it worse, doesn’t it? I wasn’t a newborn left at a police or fire station. I had a bond with someone and they left me anyway.”

“Do you remember her? Your birth mother?”

She shook her head. “My earliest memories are of Jennifer and Jacob. My mom and dad. Our home in Oregon. I have no idea how I got to the diner. A waitress found me standing alone in the doorway and called the police.”

“Jesus, Callie.” He hugged her again. “I’m so sorry.”

She clutched at his shirt and pressed her face into his chest as she struggled with more tears. “Most of the time I try not to think about it. For long stretches I’m able to push it away, but lately that doesn’t seem to be the case.” She sniffled. “I’ve been so happy here—so busy—it hasn’t been on my mind quite as much. Then today I found a photograph of her—of me and her while I was going through the pictures at the library.”

He drew back, shocked all over again. “You found a picture of her here on Carter Island?”

She nodded. “Some Fourth of July parade. There was a picture of Gwen wearing a sash on a float. One or two of your mom with Leah and Mini. Then I saw the one of a little girl and her mother and put it down, but there was something about it that made me pick it back up. I studied the woman and child and realized the child was me. Or I’m mostly positive she’s me.”

“Where is it? The picture?”

“I don’t—” She shook her head. “Everything’s a blur. I was at the library. Then I was upstairs changing. I know it’s at the house.” Tears rolled down her cheeks again. “I look like her, Nate. The woman. I have her nose and chin. We both have blond hair and the same arch to our eyebrows.”

He kissed her, his heart breaking for her. “Let’s get you out of here. We need to get you into a shower and warmed up.”

She nodded.

“We’re going to figure this out—look into it together.” He gripped her icy hands and pressed them to his lips. “We’re going to do this together.”

She nodded again. “Okay.”

He grabbed their items off the ground and put the slicker over her head. “Let’s go home,” he said as he wrapped his free arm around her and walked with her back out into the rain and cold.