Page 81 of Lightning in a Mason Jar

Thea waggled her fingers. “I know Howard will want to schedule you to come to the mill’s loading dock for lunch and the occasional event.”

Bailey Rae blinked back tears at their support. “I can’t thank you enough for all the times you’ve been there for me.”

“Honey,” June said, leaning forward to pat her knee. “You’re family.”

Libby tipped her head back into the warm morning breeze. “This feels like the day Winnie and I arrived in Bent Oak at the same time. Full of promise, thanks to Annette and our new lives.” She opened her eyes again. “But you don’t have to trust my word. I realize I’m slipping. You can verify with Thea and June.”

“I believe it,” Bailey Rae said, taking a seat on the porch swing and cradling her jar of tea in her hands. “I only have one question. How did you manage the new documents, like birth certificates?”

Thea jumped right in, saying, “It’s all a matter of who you know—having a connection with a paralegal, who then knows someone at the courthouse. Did we break the law?” She shrugged. “We did what we had to. Which brings me to our little bit of news.”

“Your news?” Scooting to the edge of the swing, Bailey Rae couldn’t imagine what other surprises life would have in store. “Please, do tell.”

The three women exchanged excited looks before June and Libby nodded to Thea to take the lead. “As far as helping others find the freedom we have, we’d put things on hold after losing Winnie. We needed time to begin healing and figuring out what to do next. There’s still more work to be done, but the path forward for us will look different. Less hiding, thanks to laws now that didn’t exist then. Not perfect, but progress. It’s time to step out into the daylight.”

Libby gripped the arms of her wheelchair, her gray eyes animated and sharp. “We’ve seen firsthand how many people still need help, so many that the two shelters in this area don’t have nearly enough beds. I’ve always wanted to open a shelter, the kind that helps families get back on their feet. The kind where folks don’t have to keep secrets. It’s tough enough for me to keep one set of names straight, much less two.”

June cackled. “And it’s not like I have to worry about anyone recognizing me now.”

Thea tugged off her gloves. “The people looking for me died a long time ago. I kept quiet more for the others we’d helped, but I believe the time is right for me to spearhead some ideas about what services a shelter could provide with the right sponsors. What do you think of our idea, Bailey Rae?”

The bravery and generosity of these women took her breath away. “I can’t wait to hear more and see your plans come to life.” And as if Winnie whispered in her ear, an idea flowered as her gaze fell on one of her aunt’s jars of collected stones. She’d poured so much love into the place, it was a shame not to share it. “If you’re interested, we can talk about using this property in some way.”

Thea blinked back tears, all the more moving from the normally reserved woman. “Annette, Winnie, and Russell would love that.”

The rightness of building something lasting on this land settled around her. Details could come later, like piecing together a quilt.

Bailey Rae lifted her jar. “Shall we toast?”

And with the clink of four jars against each other, the thick glass refracting sunbeams, they sealed the deal.

Epilogue

Six Months Later

A big part of stepping out of the shadows included taking pictures, documenting, and celebrating. And today’s photo deserved framing.

Standing on the cleared spot that had once housed the barn, Bailey Rae held a shovel, flanked by Libby, Thea, and June. Together, with their breaths puffing clouds into the cold winter air, they posed for the photographer from theBent Oak Weeklydocumenting the groundbreaking ceremony for the Ballard-Davis Sanctuary House.

Bailey Rae still couldn’t believe how smoothly the pieces had fallen into place to open a shelter for women in crisis. Perhaps because the need was so great. Or maybe because Winnie was smiling from heaven, punting any roadblocks out of their way—starting with the funding.

Phillip Curtis III had been persistent about reaching out, even after seeing Winnie’s birth certificate. So much so, Bailey Rae worried he might stumble on the truth if she didn’t give him some way to pass along Eloise’s inheritance. She’d never seen someone so eager to unload a ton of money.

Well, no one except Aunt Winnie.

Finally, Bailey Rae had responded to Phillip’s fourth inquiry and told him about the women’s shelter she and Winnie’s friends were opening. Would he be interested in making a donation? He’d been prompt in his response and in cutting a check.

A big check. She’d been taken aback by all the zeroes. Winnie truly had left behind a fortune. She must have been desperate beyond belief.

Admiration doubled for the woman who’d brought her up, who’d helped Bailey Rae through struggles and trauma, while managing to put her own in the past. Winnie had given her the greatest of gifts by teaching her to build a beautiful life centered around what mattered so much more than material possessions.

Friendship. Loyalty. Love.

Tears welled and Bailey Rae let them stream free, missing Winnie today more than ever. Although these days she didn’t suppress her emotions. Good. Bad. Happy. Sad. She embraced them all.

Only a week after that chaotic July Fourth market, Winnie’s body had been found, far downriver in a peaceful cove. They would never know if her drowning had truly been an accident or if Winnie had surrendered to her grief over losing Russell.

Either way, until that moment, Bailey Rae hadn’t realized how, in a deep corner of her heart, she’d been holding out hope that her aunt would turn up on the doorstep with her bottomless purse and a family in need. Truth be told, she still liked to fantasize about Winnie riding a Greyhound bus along the coast, visiting beach after beach. Maybe even putting down roots in some sandy locale and selling blown glass to tourists.

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