Starry Night

could be direct in the hope that Joan Reese would be willing to help her. “Well, only what I’ve read in his book and what I’ve learned online, which isn’t much.”
    “Unfortunately, I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I haven’t talked to my Finn in five years, not since his father died … he told me he wants nothing more to do with me.”
    Carrie read the pain in the other woman’s eyes, and not knowing how to react, she leaned forward and placed her hand on Joan’s forearm.
    “I tried to connect with him after his father’s death, but Finn made it clear that I had nothing to say that he wanted to hear.” She wadded a tissue in her hands and kept her head lowered.
    “So you don’t have any idea where Finn is living?” Carrie asked, her heart thumping with hope and expectation.
    “Alaska, somewhere outside Fairbanks, but then you probably already know that.”
    Seeing that he’d written extensively about life in the frozen north, this was the one piece of information she did have. And apparently so did every other news agency. His book told of adventures on the tundra, which indicated his cabin was most likely situated near the Arctic Circle. And that meant the only way to reach him would be by air, which would involve hiring a bush pilot.
    “I’ve tried to find someone in Alaska to help me”—Carrie explained her efforts to talk to a number of resources, including bush pilots—“but it’s been one dead end after another.”
    “At least you’re honest about being a reporter,” Joan said. “You couldn’t imagine what some of them have tried, thinking I could give them information that would lead them to my son. You, at least, are willing to admit why you’re doing this.”
    “He probably never suspected this interest in him and his lifestyle would happen. People love his stories, and now they want to know about the man behind them.”
    “He never forgave me, you see …” Joan murmured, her voice trailing away as she methodically tore apart the tissue in her hands.
    “Forgave you?”
    “I left him and his father when Finn was a boy. Paul loved Alaska, and I was born in Louisiana. I tried to make a life with him up there, but I couldn’t bear the cold and the isolation, whereas Paul and Finn seemed to thrive on it. I wanted us to compromise, come back to the lower forty-eight a few months each year, but Paul wasn’t willing to consider that. He insisted there was nothing for him outside Alaska. He felt any time away would be a waste. He had a dozen different projects going all the time and refused to leave. I wanted Finn to come with me, but my son chose tostay with his father.” She paused and looked away as if she regretted having spoken. “Once I left, Paul cut me completely out of his life, and Finn’s, too. Eventually I remarried, but it was more for companionship than love. Finn never forgave me for that, either. I think he must have held on to the dream that his father and I would reunite one day. My second husband died a year ago, so I’m a widow twice over.”
    “I’m so sorry,” Carrie said.
    “I wish I knew the man Finn has become,” Joan whispered.
    “If I find him and have a chance to talk to him, I’ll tell him about meeting you. I can give him a message from you, even if it’s just to remind him that you love him and want to hear from him.”
    Joan glanced up and her eyes brightened with what could be described only as ragged hope. “You’d do that?”
    “Of course.” As close as she was to her own family, Carrie’s heart went out to Finn’s mother, still looking to connect with her son. Although she didn’t know him beyond the pages of his book, she couldn’t help wonder about a man who would turn his back on his mother.
    “Then perhaps there’s a small way I can help,” Joan said, her eyes twinkling now.
    “There is?” She had Carrie’s full attention.
    Joan left the room and returned a few moments laterwith a simple gold ring. “This was Paul’s wedding band. When we divorced … he was angry and bitter, and he returned the ring to me. I’ve saved it all these years, and now that Paul is dead I would like Finn to have it.”
    “You want me to give Finn his father’s ring?”
    Joan nodded. “Finn has a friend named Sawyer. He’s a bush pilot who is often in Fairbanks. I could see Sawyer felt bad for the way Finn spoke to me at his father’s funeral, and I think he might be willing to help you find my son if you give him