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“Not sure. Doug’s old stuff, I guess,” Ben said.
Rebecca hurried forward, removed the slabs of wood and the hammer, and took the lid from the box. Her messy hair fell to the side of her face. Ben crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to think about how beautiful she was. As a successful chef from a prestigious family, she was so far out of his league it wasn’t even funny. Still, that didn’t change the fact that he'd dreamed of her when he’d managed to sleep last night.
“My gosh. These books look old!” Rebecca pointed in the box and turned back, her eyebrows high. She then tugged at the damp box, pulling it across the floor toward a drier area. “Is that German?” Rebecca asked.
Ben had never thought to look inside Doug’s secret box of things. But just as Rebecca said, the books within this box were all in German. They were thick and expertly bound and clearly from a long-ago era. Rebecca lifted one of the books from the box and flicked it open to show gorgeous illustrations. The only thing was that the books were waterlogged, and the pages bubbled. Whatever value they would have had was clearly gone.
“Who knows how many times those books have been rained on,” Ben said with a sigh as he peered over Rebecca’s shoulder.
“But they’re gorgeous,” Rebecca whispered. She flipped to the beginning of the book to find the copyright year. “1912. Germany.”
Throughout this time, Victor leaned against the bedroom wall, watching them. He said nothing. Ben noted the mysterious look in his eyes but soon shrugged it off and stepped through the living room to find Doug in the kitchen. Rebecca hurried after him with another of the old German books.
“Doug?” Ben held the book up to show the cover. “Did you bring these back from Germany?”
Doug placed a half-eaten donut back on a plate and nodded. His eyes shimmered with memories. “Remember those girls I told you about? Thomas’s wife and the two others? Their fathers had enormous collections of beautiful books. We went back to Scherfede a few times for dances and meals and got to know them better. Over candlelight, they did their best to tell us their favorite German fairy tales and stories. They didn’t want us to think of them only in terms of the war. They wanted us to think of them as principled men, as intellectuals. And when it was clear we would move to the next camp, they gave us these books to remember them by.”
“They’re wonderful,” Rebecca breathed.
“Yes. I suppose they were,” Doug said, eyeing the books with shame. “I haven’t been good at taking care of anything over the years. It’s a miracle I’ve survived this long.”
“It’s still a remarkable story,” Rebecca said. “Maybe we can dry them out a little bit so you can enjoy them whenever you want.”
Ben and Rebecca returned to Doug’s bedroom to retrieve the rest of the books. Victor had returned to the window to sling a big tarp over it. The howling of the wind had already quieted, and the house had begun to warm.
As Rebecca gathered the books in her arms, she locked eyes with Ben. She spoke quietly and kindly. “What about insurance? Is there any way they could help with some of these costs? I mean, this is such a great house. It just needs a bit of care.”
Her tone made it clear that the house was minutes from being condemned.
Ben couldn’t look at her. “To be honest with you, Doug and I have trouble making ends meet. There’s no insurance to speak of.” If he were honest, he would have told her he hadn’t known Doug to have any insurance since they’d met. “I wish Doug would have told me about these books. Maybe they could have brought in a pretty penny.”
“Who knows when they first got wet,” Rebecca pointed out. “But they’re relics. My mother should be able to help me save them. She was always a master at repairing old books.”
The sound of a drill came in the next room, followed by a hammer. Rebecca tilted her head, listening. Very softly, she said, “I haven’t seen my father fix anything since I was a little girl. He used to be the master of repairing things. He even built some of our furniture and toys.”
“I really appreciate his help,” Ben said, although a part of him was ashamed he needed help at all.
Rebecca lifted her eyes. There was a strange tension between them. Ben hated that he couldn’t stop thinking of her romantically. Everything else in his life was far too chaotic for anything like that. Besides, the ring glinting on her left finger meant she was married.
“Why don’t you come by the Sutton Book Club in a few days? We can break the rules and have two Veterans’ Dinners this week,” Rebecca said softly. “I love listening to Doug’s stories. And I’m sure you and the others have a few stories of your own.”
Ben’s heart lifted. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I insist,” Rebecca said. “Besides, who knows how much longer my mother will let me cook at the Sutton Book Club? That place is her baby. She rarely lets anyone else take control.”
Ben laughed gently. “Doug always says Esme’s just about the most stubborn woman in the world. But she got it from her father.”
Rebecca’s eyes glinted. “I don’t think I know anyone who isn’t too stubborn for their own good. We should all loosen up every once in a while. We should all admit we’re a little bit weaker than we’d like to be if only so we can help one another.” She paused, then added, “I think my family would have benefited from that thirty years ago. Now, we’re left to pick up the pieces. I just don’t know if we’ll manage it. But I suppose we have to try.”
Chapter Twenty
After Victor set up the tarp to insulate the house, he promised to return tomorrow and the day after that—as many days as it took to ensure the house was livable again. “It’ll take some time, but I can get this house into better shape.” It was clear he planned to do it for free.
Ben shook his hand and thanked him. “I’ll be here to help you. I just never had the tools or the materials to make it happen.”
“It’s never good to take on a project this big alone. Now that I’m seventy, I guess I’ll need the help even more.” He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You’ll need a place to sleep,” Rebecca said, eyeing the damp mattress.
