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He carried a manila folder with him. “This is what I have of family death and birth certificates. Marriage licenses too,” he said, setting it on the table. “Let’s see what I can find for Annabelle.”
He riffled through the papers, muttering to himself. “Nothing in here. Let me get the family Bible. They recorded things like that in those days.”
He scurried off again and returned with a tattered leather-bound Bible. “Yes, here she is.” He showed it to me. Annabelle Cooper’s date of birth was listed, as was Quinn’s. “This was the Coopers’ Bible,” Mr. Barnes explained. “Their mother brought it with them when they moved here from Boston.”
I looked down the list. “Here it is,” I said, pointing to the entry with Annabelle and Clive’s wedding date. But they were not mentioned again. “Clive died in 1936,” I said. “I wonder if she remarried after his death?”
“I didn’t know much about her,” he said. “She’s the one member of the family I haven’t been able to learn much about. She had a child in 1925 who only lived a few months. As far as I can tell, she spent most of her time and efforts into her business.”
“How sad. It must have been heartbreaking to lose a child after trying for so long.”
“Yes, although sadly, a lot of women lost babies in those days.”
I nodded, my heart aching at the thought of Annabelle’s lost child.
“She moved away from here sometime after Clive’s death in 1936 but returned later. I’m not entirely sure when. Regardless, I think she owned the house all that time but may not have lived there. Let me look through what I have from Quinn and see if there are any clues in there.” His eyes gleamed. “Do you mind leaving this with me?”
“Technically, it belongs to your family,” I said. “I’ve been having fun reading the entries and am intrigued by the mystery, but I wanted you to have it.”
“Tell you what—give me a day or two with this and I’ll see what else I can dig up. It may give us more questions than less after we make our way through the journal and letters.”
“I hope not. I like to know how a story ends, don’t you?”
“Very much so. But I’ve discovered as I try to piece together my family’s history that there are some things we will not ever know.”
I said goodbye then, knowing I needed to get back to the inn. He promised to call if he found anything interesting.
I could hardly wait. This was better than a favorite television show.
* * *
I letDarby work for an hour that afternoon before I went out to greet him and ask him about this double date idea of Arianna’s. Whatever he wanted was fine with me. I had a feeling it would be too painful to have dinner with his former friend and girlfriend. However, I was curious to meet this millionaire Rob, stealer of girlfriends. I’d simply tell him her request and be sure not to give away my own desire to accept their offer.
I brought him a cold glass of lemonade when I went out to the construction area. It was a warm afternoon, and he was working in a short-sleeved shirt and faded jeans. A baseball hat covered his head and protected his face from sunburn, and a leather work belt hung low around his hips. Today he was working on the platform part of the gazebo. I watched him for a moment. He was leaning over a section, hammer in his hand and several nails between his teeth. Such nice teeth, all straight and white. Sexy, sexy, sexy.
He straightened as I approached and dropped the hammer, which hit the side of his foot. If it hurt, he didn’t say so. “Hey there,” he said, still holding the nails in his mouth.
“Hey.” Why did I feel suddenly shy and tongue-tied and about thirteen? I hadn’t felt that way last night when he was kissing me, now had I? Warmth spread throughout my body just thinking of his kisses.
Darby stuffed the nails into his work belt and nodded toward the glass in my hand. “Is that for me?”
I handed it to him. “I thought you might be thirsty. It’s warm today.”
“That’s sweet of you, and I am thirsty.” He took a swig from the glass, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before taking off his hat and laying it on top of the pile of wood. I could see him as a boy just then, bashful and a little nerdy. I would’ve had a crush on him, I felt certain. Unfortunately, the way sweat dampened his dark hair and chest muscles showed through his T-shirt, I was developing one right at this minute. Or was it more than that?
“Why is it that everything you make is better than anything else I’ve ever had? You have the magic touch,” Darby said. “This is great lemonade—perfect balance of sweet and tart.”
I didn’t want to ruin his opinion by telling him we used concentrate from a can to make our pitchers for the guests. If he thought I had magical ways, then so be it. But I must remember why I was here. “So, Arianna stopped by this morning.”
His expression darkened. He picked up his hat and stuffed it back on his head. “What did she want? Let me guess. She’s changed her mind about something.”
“No, not that. She wondered if we wanted to go on a double date.”
“You’re kidding?” His eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and amazement.
“Not kidding. She thought it would be healing. Or burying the hatchet. Something like that.” I moved closer, taking his empty glass. “It’s totally fine—whatever you feel comfortable with. I’m there for you either way.”
“We’ll have to play up being a couple,” he said at last.
