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steps, and when he reached the screen door, he saw his fiddle case leaning against it, but Gage was at the far end of the porch now, so Bud just picked it up and went inside.

Maeve searched the boy’s blue-green eyes—so like her own—and shook her head in disbelief, as the years of pent-up tears filled her eyes. “I’ve dreamed of this day,” she said softly. “Oh, my, oh my, oh my . . .”

Mason bit his lip, feeling tears welling up in his own eyes. Maeve reached up tentatively and rested her hand gently on his cheek and smiled. “You are so tall and handsome.”

Mason nodded, but still didn’t say anything, and Maeve could see the aching pain and sadness in his questioning eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “Giving you up was the hardest thing I ever did. I have regretted it every day of my life.”

“Why did you?” he asked.

Maeve took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Because I was young and scared . . . and I know that sounds like a terrible, lame excuse, but I wasn’t ready to be a mom, and I was terrified. I hadn’t told anyone I was pregnant—not even my parents . . . and I was so afraid of what they’d say . . . what they’d think of me . . . but at the same time, I worried about what would happen to you . . . who would adopt you . . . who would take care of you. After you were born, I begged the nurse—your mom,” she said with a smile, “to let me hold you and she told me if I was giving you up for adoption, I couldn’t. . . . Well, that just about put me over the edge. I was beside myself. But then later—probably because I wouldn’t stop crying—she brought you in.”

Maeve shook her head and smiled. “It was so amazing to hold this sweet little bundle—my son! My heart overflowed with love . . . so much love I almost changed my mind, but your mom was like this angel that appeared at just the right time. She had the kindest eyes I’d ever seen, and I asked her—begged her—to take care of you . . . and not just while you were in the hospital . . . but forever . . . and when she said yes, I was so thankful and amazed. I felt at peace in that moment because it seemed as if it was meant to be. It was as if we all needed something—I needed someone to take care of you, you needed a mom, and she needed someone to love, and I felt as if God had planned it all.” She smiled wistfully. “At least, that’s what I’ve told myself all these years.”

Mason frowned. “What about my dad?”

Maeve took another deep breath and slowly shook her head. “I know this is going to sound absolutely awful, and it’s a big part of why I never told anyone. . . .” She pressed her lips together pensively. “I’m ashamed to say I don’t know who your father is, Mason.”

Mason raised his eyebrows and waited for her to continue.

“Mine is the classic walk-of-shame tale of a naive freshman who attended a college party, drank more than she could handle, and ended up in an upstairs room with a tall, athletic boy from another school. Things got out of hand, and when I woke up, he was gone. When I asked my friends if they knew him, no one did. Two months later, I realized I was pregnant.” Maeve paused, searching his eyes. “You may or may not believe me, Mason, but I wasn’t a drinker, and before that night, I had never even kissed a boy.”

Mason looked away, trying to absorb these revelations—these answers to the questions he’d struggled with all his life. Maeve reached for his hand. “I’ve always prayed you’d find me. I didn’t want to pressure you, but I sent my address to your mom at the hospital, and she wrote back and even sent some pictures of you. I’ve treasured them.”

She paused again, searching for the right words. “Mason, it broke my heart to not be there to watch you grow up, to not be your mom, but I took comfort in knowing you were in good hands . . . that you were well cared for.” As she said this, she heard a motor start, and she looked over to see Gage pulling away. Suddenly, she remembered that they were supposed to be heading to her parents’ house, and then, with a sinking feeling, she wondered how much Gage had heard.

She turned back to Mason and smiled, still finding it hard to believe that this tall young man was her son. “I’m so glad you came,” she said softly. “How is your sweet mom? Does she know you’re here?”

Fresh tears filled Mason’s eyes and he shook his head, unable to utter the words. Maeve frowned. “Oh, no,” she said softly. “What happened?”

He shook his head again and the tears, like water breaching a dam, spilled down his cheeks. Maeve stepped forward and, for the first time since his birth, held her son, his slender frame wracked with sobs.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Mason nodded, wiping his eyes with his palms until he was finally able to speak and tell her about his mom’s diagnosis, her indomitable spirit, her warrior faith, and her undaunted determination . . . right up until the day he graduated from high school. “She made me promise to find you.”

“I’m glad she did,” Maeve said with a gentle smile.

“Yeah, because I probably wouldn’t have,” he said, half smiling back.

“How are you managing?” she asked.

“I’m heading to college soon—next week if I try out for the cross-country team. Their practice starts on Tuesday.”

Maeve’s face brightened. “You are?! Where are you going?”

“Georgia Tech on an Air Force ROTC scholarship.”

“Wow! That’s very impressive! Do you want to be a pilot?”

He nodded shyly, but then added, “We’ll see if I have what it takes.”

“I’m sure you do,” Maeve assured him. “My dad—your grandfather—was an aeronautical engineer for Gulfstream, so airplanes run in the family.” As she said this, they both realized

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