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Walt glanced at the cookie. “Mom and Dad never told me I was adopted.” For a long moment a heavy silence hung between us.

“I found out from a relative at a family reunion when I was fifteen. It slipped out. I pretended not to hear, but it made so much sense. My parents loved me, and I loved them, but there was a missing piece.”

“A critical piece to a puzzle.”

“Maybe. I never said a word to my folks, but I did do a little digging. I learned of her older sister, Jenna. Mom didn’t talk about her much, but when I learned she died the day after I was born, it wasn’t hard to wonder. You know, she’s buried here in Alexandria.”

“I do. I’ve been to the grave. They wrote about her in the local paper when she passed. You know Walter Jacob is also buried near her.”

“I did not.”

“I’d be happy to show you his place.”

He stared at the cookie and then took another bite as if he needed another second or two to process. “I also saw the article you left with Mom.”

“Your mom told you all this?” In Kate, I sensed a woman who’d guarded a secret for nearly seventy years, and to think she’d release it so easily didn’t jibe.

“No. Not a word. But I guess you could say she told me in her own way. She left your package out on the kitchen table. It was there when Del and I came in from the orchards. She’s my farm manager.”

Del grinned. “The apple heir.”

It would have been easy enough for Kate to hide the recipe box and the photos or destroy them, but she’d left them out. “She wanted you to find it.”

“Maybe. She won’t go as far as to talk, but I give her credit for trying.”

So much emotion. Love, sadness, loss, and more love. Adoption brought with it a complicated blend of feelings. “Let’s go see Joey.”

“I’d like that.”

And so I made excuses to Rachel, grabbed my purse, and drove to Woodbridge, Jenna’s cookies on the seat beside me. Del and Walt followed in their car.

It was after three when we arrived, and I greeted the receptionist with a smile and a box of cookies. She accepted them and nodded for me to go back.

When Walt hesitated, Del nudged him forward. “We’ve got to do this, Granddad.”

He cleared his throat. “Right.”

I knocked on Joey’s door, and when I heard a gruff “What?” I pushed it open.

“Joey, it’s Daisy.”

He sat up a little straighter and smiled. “What are you doing back? Afraid I might die on you?”

I grinned. “I actually have a couple of visitors for you.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not one for visitors.”

His gruffness had grown endearing and didn’t deter me in the least. “Well, you might like these two visitors.”

“Two!” He scrunched his face as if he’d eaten a sour apple.

I laid his box of cookies on his bedside table. “Buck up, Joey. And stop whining.”

He grunted and fussed with the cuff of his long-sleeved shirt. “I’m not whining.”

I patted him gently on his shoulder. “You sound like a little girl.” He glared up at me but didn’t complain. I motioned for Walt and Del to enter. Walt hesitated by the door, but a firm shove from Del had him moving into the room.

Joey stared at Walt with annoyance and a mild hint of curiosity. I half hoped he’d look at Walt and see hints of his old friend. But I got nothing. And then Del stepped into the room.

Joey sat up straighter as his gaze settled on her face. His sour expression softened, and he blinked hard behind his thick glasses. “Jenna?”

“No, Joey, this is Del Johnson. She’s a relative of Jenna’s.” I looked at Del. “Joey was good friends with Jenna and her fiancé, Walter. Walter and he served in the marines together in Quantico and later in the Pacific. They met Jenna at a USO dance in Alexandria.”

Walt looked stunned, as if a hundred-pound sack of flour had fallen on his head.

I knew the look and the sense of being hit by an emotional tsunami.

I’d been there. Been hit by the same rush of thoughts and feelings.

“Joey, why don’t you tell Walt about the first time you met Jenna. I think he’s very curious about her.”

Joey tore his gaze from Del and zeroed in on Walt. “How did you know Jenna?”

“I never knew her. She died when I was a day old.” He hesitated. “She was my mother.”

Walt’s voice broke under the weight of words he must have thought a million times but had never been able to say out loud.

Del smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. “My great-grandmother.”

Walt laid his hand over hers. And so Del and Walt sat on chairs by Joey’s wheelchair as I quietly backed out of the room to the sound of Joey saying “Walter and Jenna loved you so much.”

By the time I returned to the bakery, I felt pretty good about myself. Jenna had to be pleased with me. She and Walt could rest in peace, knowing the loop between past and present had been closed. Their son knew he’d been loved and wanted even before he’d been born.

Karma should have been grinning like a circus clown over the good deed I’d done. Karma should have been tossing a break my way. But, as my mom often said, karma could be a bitch.

When I entered the bakery, I saw a man talking to Rachel. His dark hair brushed the collar of a worn leather jacket, and his worn jeans hugged well-muscled legs. However, Italian loafers gave him away as a man of means.

Rachel’s smile strained with tension as she glanced over his shoulder at me. “Do you ever read your emails?”

No missing the frustration sharpening her words. “I was busy.”

“This gentleman is asking for you, but he won’t tell me why.”

The man turned, and I recognized his angled, lean face and gray-blue eyes immediately. My appearance may have downgraded over the last five months, but his had improved. “Roger.”

His gaze wandered from my face to my belly. “So it’s true.”

The sense of goodwill I’d enjoyed seconds ago vanished. Outrage chainsawed into my composure. “Do you think I send random emails out telling men they’re the father of my baby for giggles?”

Rachel’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened. Her gaze shifted to Roger as if seeing him for the first time and then back to me. She cocked her head and mouthed, “Really?”

I shrugged. One matter to talk about mistakes; it was another to have one walk around.

As if unaware of Rachel, Roger shoved a hand into his pocket and rattled change. “I’ll expect a DNA test before I fork over a dime.”

I rubbed the tension banding the muscles at the base of my skull. “Why aren’t you in China?”

“I’ve been back in New York for a couple of weeks. When I received your email, I thought I should see you myself so we could deal with this.”

“Deal with this?” Anger, sharp and hot, surged in my chest. “How do you propose we deal with this?”

The steel reinforcing my words tugged Rachel out from behind the counter. “If you attack from the front, I’ll take the rear.”

Roger’s head whipped around as if he’d forgotten Rachel. “I came here in good faith.”

“Good faith?” I asked. “Sounds like you’re worried.”

The thought of Roger having my baby on alternate weekends sent a chill through my veins, and I realized if I didn’t get a handle on my temper, Roger would demand visitation out of spite.

I shook my head. “I told you about the baby because I thought you had a right to know. Beyond that, I don’t want anything from you. Consider yourself off the hook.”

“You don’t want anything?” Suspicion coupled with hope.

“Not a damn thing,” I said, jaws clenched.

Roger’s stance relaxed, and he glanced toward the door.

“Unless, of course, the baby asks questions one day,” Rachel added. “Let’s face it, Daisy, the baby is going to ask questions if she’s like you.”

I’d been ready to toss Roger out of our lives forever, but Rachel was right. I could eject him out of my life, but I didn’t have the right to make that decision for the baby. One day she might have questions, and she deserved answers.

Roger shook his head. “Once I have DNA confirmation, I’ll provide whatever genetic information you need so the child can answer whatever medical forms come its way. But I don’t want a relationship with the child.”

I shook my head. “I wasn’t thinking you’d have a relationship with her. But one day she might like to set eyes on you for her own peace of mind.”

He tugged at a monogrammed white cuff that peeked out from the leather jacket. “I don’t want any surprise visits. That could be unpleasant for all of us.” He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out neatly folded papers, extending them as if wielding a knife.

My fingers curled into fists. “What’s this?”

“I’ve had papers drawn up. I’ve agreed to terminate parental rights in exchange for a cash payout.”

Outrage curdled in my belly. “You said you wanted DNA testing.”

He hesitated. He was a jerk, but he knew me well enough to know that I didn’t cry wolf. “I want this over and done with.”

“I don’t want your money.”

He jabbed the papers toward me. “Don’t you want to see how much I’m offering?”

“No.”

He arched a brow. “Money is your driving force, Daisy.”

That might have been true for the Daisy he’d known. Now it was the kid and the bakery that drove me. “I sign the papers, and you go away.”

“Like I never happened.”

So tempting to wash away an old mistake that still made me cringe when I remembered.

His lips curled, a conspirator’s smirk. “Sign them, Daisy. It’s what you want.”

Signing would clear the way for Gordon. Without Roger in the picture, we could forge our own lives with the baby. Oh, but that vision tempted. However, as much as I wanted Roger to vanish, I didn’t have the right to rewrite the kid’s history.

Rachel huffed in a breath. “I can kill him now if you want me to, Daisy. We can cut him up and bake him in a pie.”

Her protective fire jostled loose a smile. “Not necessary, Rachel. I’m used to Roger. I understand his tactics.” I snatched the papers from him, moved to the counter, and grabbed a pen. A scan of the document revealed a cut-and-dried, bloodless agreement. So Roger.