Free Autumn's Shadow by Lyn Cote

across at Burke. His eyes had that shuttered look she'd begun to recognize. That look signaled that his mind was turning, turning, examining events and he didn't want to be disturbed.
    Somehow having his fight with Nick overshadowed had irritated Grady. Her brother had driven off in a huff. And Grady's rude words upon leaving still grated on her. What had Burke thought of her brother and his nephew fighting with each other? It could only lower his opinion of her brother. But then her brother had inherited her father's attitude--what others thought of a Turner didn't matter.
    A muffled whistling came from the garage. Grady's departure had left Nick alone, whom Burke had then ordered to sort clothing as punishment for fighting with her brother. Keely hoped Nick wouldn't take a dislike to the Family Closet over this. It was the kind of place he needed to volunteer at, a place that could show him how much worse life could be if one didn't count the cost. Nick  had shown himself to be a better sport than her brother. He'd appeared chasened by the breaking of the car seat and the appearance of the necklace. Now Nick's insouciant whistling contrasted sharply with the somber mood of the five around the table.
    "The waiting," Penny, looking crushed, began, "has been the worst."
    "Don't jump to conclusions," Keely said. "You might end up keeping Rachel."
    "I don't want to keep her from her birth mother. And the pendant isn't mine." Penny brushed the sheen of tears from her eyes. "It must belong to Rachel, to her mother...."
    "The car seat might have been borrowed," Burke cut in, "or Rachel's mother might have bought it at another thrift shop and never knew the necklace was there. This might lead us to your foster child's parents or it might be another dead end."
    Burke's logic was irrefutable. This might not give them the answer. It might only add another question to the unsolved mystery of who baby Rachel belonged to. This further lowered the mood around the table.
    Keely longed to leave this serious scene. Just an hour ago, she'd looked forward to a quiet day here, peacefully sheltered in this, her second home. But now she wanted to escape. Sunshine pouring through the windows and the warm breezes beckoned her.
    Keely looked at the grave faces around her. "What do we do now?"
    "First, we have to find out if anyone around here recognizes this necklace." Rodd pointed to it. "It's distinctive, obviously old, and engraved with the name Maria, so it should be easily identified. And second, the fact is the car was in this county when the accident happened."
    He looked around, his jaw line jutting out as though he expected an argument. "This county isn't a destination anyone would just casually choose, especially in January. Especially last January, the coldest and snowiest recorded in nearly fifty years. If the couple who died . . ." Rodd took a deep breath. "If little Rachel is connected with anyone around here, this could be the link we've been hoping for."
    "The couple might have been driving through here on their way somewhere north or west," Bruce offered, lifting one hand in obvious frustration.
    Rodd nodded. "That means I'll need to get this story out to the papers—first to Cram for the Steadfast Times but also as far north as Duluth, west to Minneapolis, east to Green Bay, and everywhere in between. I'll take a digital photo of it and fax it out. It's the kind of mystery most small-town papers like to run, and I'll ask for information about it. I won't mention the baby angle the first time around."
    "You think it's best to see what pops up first?" Burke asked.
    Rodd nodded again. "Right."
    "You never know what something like this can stir up," Burke agreed. "We'll probably end up with a lot of false leads. But that's all we can do now."
    "That's not all we can do now," Bruce said. "God brought us little Rachel and he knows where she belongs. Let's pray." He took his wife's hand and bowed his head.
    Everyone followed his lead.