Read Online A Promise of Fireflies by Susan Haught - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Susan Haught
Tags: Women's Fiction
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disappointment into a steeple of white knuckles. Every ounce of enthusiasm vanished, yet she feigned a smile.
“I think it’s fantastic.”
Evan squirmed. The chair legs dragged across the floor punctuating the silence with a pathetic groan. “You don’t look very happy about it.”
A deep breath dispersed her misguided jealousy. “I thought I had three semesters to get used to you leaving Arizona.” Slowly, she lifted her chin to face him. “This is an exceptional opportunity you can’t pass up, and if you’re happy, I’m happy. And you can’t imagine how proud.” She reached across the table and gave his hands a firm squeeze.
“There’s something else.” His expression turned serious. “I found him.”
“You found who?”
“Ambrose.”
A hand rose to her mouth. “Oh, God.”
“Actually found two. Judging by what little information I could gather, either of them could be the right one. Or neither.”
Ryleigh nodded and leaned forward on her elbows, her chin resting on her folded hands.
“And?”
Evan handed her a scribbled note. “Here’s the address for Ambrose Thompson. His family’s been in Ballston Spa since the 1700s. Says he’s a pharmacist at O’Neil’s. It’s a small town—they call it a village,” he said, his eyes trained on her. “Shouldn’t be hard to find.”
The realization stunned her to momentary silence. “You think I’m going to go traipsing all over the country in search of this guy?”
“There’s no doubt in my mind.”
“I’ve got plenty for both of us.”
“Why would you ask me to snoop if you weren’t going to look for him?” A flicker of amusement turned the corners of his mouth upward. “Be good for you to get out of town. Spread your wings.”
“I don’t need to spread my wings.”
“The other guy’s name is W. L. D’Ambrose.”
“Wait….” Ryleigh pressed her back against the chair. “D’Ambrose is his last name?”
“Couldn’t find much on him. There one minute, then poof—gone.” Evan shrugged. “He just vanished off the Internet.”
A whirlwind of opposing thoughts saturated her mind and heart, desire and fear grappling with one another. She pressed her fingertips hard against her temples as if doing so would clear the playing field. The points stacked against finding Ambrose far outweighed finding him. Yet a niggling itch tapped at unguarded logic. “I don’t have a clue where to begin.”
“With an airline ticket.”
“Very funny.”
He spread his hands in front of him in a self-appreciative gesture.
“I’m anxious for answers…but it’s frightening.”
“Mom,” Evan said, his voice slicing through spoken and unspoken thought, “take the time off and go.”
“I had it all planned in my head, but now that it’s an actual possibility, it’s so far away,” she said, cringing.
“It’s New York, not the Outer Limits. Besides, you were born there, maybe you have roots you don’t know about.”
“I doubt if there’s any connection at all, except Ambrose, or Mr. D’Ambrose, or whatever he calls himself. This whole thing is rather intimidating.”
“Gram must have known someone in Ballston Spa, or why’d they go there in the first place?”
Despite the fact her mother had never mentioned anyone by the name of Ambrose and Ballston Spa meant nothing to her but an unfamiliar town on her birth certificate, Evan had a point. She suspected the restless suspicions would continue to gnaw at her. One question would raise another until she’d be swimming in a tiny universe of unsolved mysteries. At least until she found answers. She guessed it would be no different than digging for the facts for her newspaper column and hoped she didn’t drown.
She glanced at Evan. The resultant silence flowed back into the space that seconds ago reverberated with animated conversation. She bit her lip and held out her hands in a mock surrender. “Okay.”
“You’ll go?”
“Soon,” she said, the weight of the
“I think it’s fantastic.”
Evan squirmed. The chair legs dragged across the floor punctuating the silence with a pathetic groan. “You don’t look very happy about it.”
A deep breath dispersed her misguided jealousy. “I thought I had three semesters to get used to you leaving Arizona.” Slowly, she lifted her chin to face him. “This is an exceptional opportunity you can’t pass up, and if you’re happy, I’m happy. And you can’t imagine how proud.” She reached across the table and gave his hands a firm squeeze.
“There’s something else.” His expression turned serious. “I found him.”
“You found who?”
“Ambrose.”
A hand rose to her mouth. “Oh, God.”
“Actually found two. Judging by what little information I could gather, either of them could be the right one. Or neither.”
Ryleigh nodded and leaned forward on her elbows, her chin resting on her folded hands.
“And?”
Evan handed her a scribbled note. “Here’s the address for Ambrose Thompson. His family’s been in Ballston Spa since the 1700s. Says he’s a pharmacist at O’Neil’s. It’s a small town—they call it a village,” he said, his eyes trained on her. “Shouldn’t be hard to find.”
The realization stunned her to momentary silence. “You think I’m going to go traipsing all over the country in search of this guy?”
“There’s no doubt in my mind.”
“I’ve got plenty for both of us.”
“Why would you ask me to snoop if you weren’t going to look for him?” A flicker of amusement turned the corners of his mouth upward. “Be good for you to get out of town. Spread your wings.”
“I don’t need to spread my wings.”
“The other guy’s name is W. L. D’Ambrose.”
“Wait….” Ryleigh pressed her back against the chair. “D’Ambrose is his last name?”
“Couldn’t find much on him. There one minute, then poof—gone.” Evan shrugged. “He just vanished off the Internet.”
A whirlwind of opposing thoughts saturated her mind and heart, desire and fear grappling with one another. She pressed her fingertips hard against her temples as if doing so would clear the playing field. The points stacked against finding Ambrose far outweighed finding him. Yet a niggling itch tapped at unguarded logic. “I don’t have a clue where to begin.”
“With an airline ticket.”
“Very funny.”
He spread his hands in front of him in a self-appreciative gesture.
“I’m anxious for answers…but it’s frightening.”
“Mom,” Evan said, his voice slicing through spoken and unspoken thought, “take the time off and go.”
“I had it all planned in my head, but now that it’s an actual possibility, it’s so far away,” she said, cringing.
“It’s New York, not the Outer Limits. Besides, you were born there, maybe you have roots you don’t know about.”
“I doubt if there’s any connection at all, except Ambrose, or Mr. D’Ambrose, or whatever he calls himself. This whole thing is rather intimidating.”
“Gram must have known someone in Ballston Spa, or why’d they go there in the first place?”
Despite the fact her mother had never mentioned anyone by the name of Ambrose and Ballston Spa meant nothing to her but an unfamiliar town on her birth certificate, Evan had a point. She suspected the restless suspicions would continue to gnaw at her. One question would raise another until she’d be swimming in a tiny universe of unsolved mysteries. At least until she found answers. She guessed it would be no different than digging for the facts for her newspaper column and hoped she didn’t drown.
She glanced at Evan. The resultant silence flowed back into the space that seconds ago reverberated with animated conversation. She bit her lip and held out her hands in a mock surrender. “Okay.”
“You’ll go?”
“Soon,” she said, the weight of the
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