Read Online The Last Daughter (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll) by Jessica Ferguson - Free Book Online

one, Rayna.”
    She yanked the paper off the box in one angry movement. “I realize I’d be a fool not to be a little nervous about this. So what’s your gut feeling telling you now? Why are these things showing up? Who knows I’m here?”
    He put his hand on hers to stop her from ripping the top off the box. “I don’t know, but listen to me. Will you just remember one thing? Just one.”
    “What?” she whispered.
    “Promise me that no matter what’s inside; no matter what happens in the future or what you learn about your past, please promise you’ll remember I care about you; that I’m on your side.”
    She sighed. “I know you are, Trent. And I promise.” A weak smile accompanied her words. When she turned her attention away from him, flipped the top off the boot box, a quiver as cold as a March wind blew through him. Staring up at him with eyes as dark and real as his worst nightmare, worn and straggly as a homeless person, except for the crisp new dress she wore, sat Tiva, Rayna’s childhood doll.
    ****
    Rayna gasped, picked the doll up, and hugged her. Words spilled from her lips in a whisper. “It’s Tiva. Trent, it’s Tiva.”
    She felt much like she did twenty-five years ago when she first got the doll. All of a sudden, she knew Tiva had come to her as a gift. From who? Her father? A family friend? Her memory didn’t take her any further than a white-sleeved arm handing her a doll. For all she knew, that white sleeve could have belonged to a woman.
    Her breath came in spurts. She heard a voice. Trent was saying something. She willed herself to calm down, listen, respond normally. Pretend her heart wasn’t pounding. All she wanted to do was hug the doll to her and weep, though she didn’t know why. She made herself look at Trent. “Did you say something?”
    He frowned. “I said that’s not the kind of doll a kid would play with.”
    “I love—loved it,” she answered.
    “How do you even know it’s the same doll?”
    “There’s only one Tiva.”
    “That’s ridiculous. Dolls are mass produced, of course, she’s so old and worn out. I guess back then—” He stopped to watch Rayna.
    She brushed at the doll’s frizzed hair. Caressed its rouged cheek. Examined its hands and feet as if it were a newborn baby. She unbuttoned the front of its bodice and tugged the dress away from the doll’s shoulders. “This proves it’s mine,” she said, showing Trent the perfect rose carved into the doll’s chest. “It’s like the one on the front of the house.”
    He shrugged. “No, it’s not. This is a flower. The other is a heart. And that etching could have been put on a thousand other dolls.”
    Rayna held Tiva in the crook of her arm, stood, and moved toward the wounded heart brand beside the front door. She touched the top of her own cotton pullover, fumbled with the first four buttons then pulled it open. She turned to face him, jutted her chin toward him. “You’re right, Trent, but this one wasn’t. Tiva and I belong here.”

Chapter 6
    Trent’s mouth fell open. For the first time in his life, he was speechless; he couldn’t think of anything to say. In fact, he heard a moan, an eerie drawn out whine that sounded like someone in pain. When he finally focused, he realized the sound came from him. His eyes met Rayna’s. He saw the challenge on her face.
    “I know it’s not a rose; it’s a heart, but whoever did this tried to make a stem with the...so that...”
    Her voice cracked. “I can’t remember,” she whispered. “I’ve tried and I just can’t remember.”
    His knees threatened to buckle as torture scenarios filled his head. What kind of monster had she known? Who had done this to her? How? Why? When? Questions crashed his mind; questions without answers.
    He didn’t want to think about the pain she had endured. Things that may have happened to her. Unshed tears burned behind his eyes; he widened them, fighting for control. He tried to speak, but what could he