However, there were two Tamsens. One was an Aldredge, the other a Frazier. If the war mentioned in the letter was the Civil War, then the writer had to be Tamsen Frazier, as the Aldredge woman died before the war began. But the names made Gemma think there was a connection.
She e-mailed Jocelyn and asked what she knew about the Tamsens, but Joce said she’d only found dates. She didn’t know if either woman had married or produced children. “The Aldredges tend toward fatherless children,” Joce wrote. “We all tease Tris about that. And the Fraziers and Aldredges have been friends and have intermarried all the way back to the settling of the town.”
“The friendship doesn’t seem to have changed,” Gemma wrote back.
“Nothing changes in this town,” Joce responded. “I named my daughter Edilean.”
A few more exchanges resulted in Joce saying that she and her family would be at the barbecue. “Everyone in town wants to meet you. Even Roy praised what you did to save that little boy, and she thinks most women are victims waiting to happen. My best friends, Sara and Tess, will be there. They’re both pregnant and have contests to see who can eat the most. So far, Tess is winning.”
Smiling, Gemma wrote that she looked forward to meeting all of them, then went back to work. Mrs. Frazier came by the guesthouse, driving a red utility vehicle that had a crown painted in gold on the hood.
“My son Lanny’s idea of a joke,” she said, but she didn’t seem to be displeased. She was fascinated by every word Gemma told her, especially about the Heartwishes. “Do you have to be a Frazier by blood? Must you be born into the family to get your wish?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Gemma said, taken aback by the woman’s vehemence. She started to say that the story of the Stone’s magical powers was just a family myth, but she didn’t. It looked as though Mrs. Frazier had a wish she wanted to come true. What the woman could possibly want that she didn’t already have was beyond Gemma’s imagination.
“Keep working, dear,” Mrs. Frazier said as she handed Gemma a credit card. “It’s the same one Rachel uses to buy for the household. Get whatever you need for the job.”
“What’s happened with the fire?” she asked before the woman ran off.
“Not too bad,” Mrs. Frazier said. “A lot of damage, but no one’s been hurt. Better yet, it’s under control.”
“Colin said he was helping with the cleanup.”
Mrs. Frazier gave a little smile. “My son called you?”
“Just a couple of times,” Gemma said and wished she’d not told that. The Frazier family loved Jean.
“That’s lovely,” Mrs. Frazier said as she climbed into her little truck. She was still smiling as she drove away.
Gemma didn’t waste any time trying to understand the woman’s enigmatic little smile but went back to work.
Mr. Frazier stopped by to give her a paycheck. When Gemma offered to tell him about her research, he looked as though he might fall asleep. She said, “Morgan,” and he instantly came alive.
“Founded in 1909 by Henry Frederick Stanley Morgan in Malvern Link, Worcestershire. I bought two of them from his son Peter before he died a few years ago. I have an Aero SuperSport on order.”
Gemma’s eyes widened. “Don’t those cost—”
“Ssssh!” he said. “You tell Alea and I’ll make you drive it.”
“Heard about how much I loved driving Colin’s Jeep, did you?”
“What I heard is that you rode with him and didn’t scream.” He looked at her as though to say she’d done a good job. As he climbed into his little truck—black with red stripes on the hood—he said, “Oh yeah, Lanny saw the tape of you climbing on Colin and he says he’s in love with you.”
“Isla will be heartbroken,” Gemma replied, and Mr. Frazier laughed as he sped away.
Shamus visited twice. He was a quiet young man, saying hardly anything, but she had an idea that he saw a lot. On his first visit she started to tell him of the little she’d learned of his ancestors, but like his father, he didn’t seem interested.
If there was one thing she knew about big, athletic boys it was that they were always hungry. She told him to sit on the couch while she made him a sandwich. He had his ever-present drawing case with him and he began to sketch while she loaded bread high with meat and whatever she could find in the refrigerator. She didn’t have any potato chips so she sliced carrots. She set the plate and a quart of iced tea on the coffee table, then went back to work.
An hour later she looked up from where she was sitting on the floor, surrounded by books and papers, and Shamus had moved to the chair and was sketching. She went back to work, paying no attention to him. An hour or so later, he left, saying nothing, just raising his hand in farewell.
The next day he stopped by again. She opened the door to his knock but she’d been reading some letters and didn’t want to stop. Shamus seemed to understand, as he motioned for her to sit back down. He went to the kitchen and minutes later he put a tray with a sandwich and tea down beside her. She smiled up at him as he sat down in the chair with his sandwich. The next time she looked up, he was drawing. She didn’t know when he left. That evening there were two huge floor cushions outside her door and she felt sure Shamus had been the person who’d obtained them. Gratefully, she put one on the library floor and another one against the shelves.
As for the rest of the family, Lanny and Pere, she didn’t see them. Rachel came by to pick up the bowls and to give her more “leftovers.” Since most of the dishes hadn’t been touched, Gemma knew Rachel had prepared them specially.
“Heartwishes, huh?” Rachel said without preamble.
“You’ve heard about it?”