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I said goodbye and made my way through the loose gravel to the front porch of my inn, hoping my butt didn’t look too big. In case he was watching, that is. When I turned back to see for myself, he was reaching for a stack of two-by-fours. Well, that’s that, I thought.Don’t get too excited about this guy. He’s only interested in being my friend. I must remember that and rein in my romantic notions.
Good luck with that, a voice whispered to me.
9
DARBY
Istarted unloading the lumber and stacking it neatly where Jamie had asked before getting out the drawings I’d done at lunch. Tomorrow, I’d bring out some cement to anchor the platform. Tonight, I would dig the holes in preparation.
Jamie had asked that the gazebo be made just outside the white fence. Once I had it built, then I would put in a gate. This way I didn’t have to mess up any of the pretty landscaping. The ground was flat and smooth. Fire had destroyed all the natural plants, but small shoots and grasses had come back up, not defeated for long. Just down the path, guests would arrive at the river. From here, I imagined I could hear the flow of water over rocks, but it was only in my mind.
I shook my head, astounded the fire had jumped the river to take down the inn. We’d all hoped Jamie’s newly opened business would be safe. We were wrong. The girl had gumption, I thought for the hundredth time as I hauled another load to its temporary position.
After measuring carefully, I dug a good foot down into the dirt for the four main posts. Knowing the snow and harsh weather we often had in this part of Colorado, I wanted to make sure the posts were secure. I’d just begun digging the fourth hole when my shovel hit something hard. Probably a large rock, I thought, as I set aside my digging tool and got down on my knees to inspect further. The sun had gone down by that time, leaving me in a dim light. I dug both hands into the soil, seeking whatever had stopped my shovel. Soon, I found it with the tips of my fingers. It was something hard, but not a rock. I dug until I saw metal. A box of some kind? Maybe someone had planted one of those time capsule boxes.
My heartbeat sped up as I realized that it was indeed a box. Made of a silver metal, most likely stainless steel, and the size of a boot box. A lock held it closed. One that required a key, I noticed, rubbing away the dirt to see better. How long had this been there? They wouldn’t have found it when they put in the new landscaping because Jamie had left this part wild, clearing it of debris and smoothing the soil but without the manicured feeling inside the fence.
I brushed as much dirt off the box as I could and set it aside. Regardless of what was inside, I needed to finish before it grew too dark to work. My muscles ached already, but I must keep on. Jamie was depending on me, and we both needed the money. I would not think too much about the reasons for the gazebo. Arianna was the past. Was Jamie the future? I put that question aside and got back to work.
However, this stirring in my belly whenever I was near Jamie had me discombobulated. All day at school, I’d thought of her and the kiss we’d shared. Would there be another tonight? Or had that just been part of our ruse and meant nothing to her?
Dig, you fool. Just dig.
* * *
Between schooland working on the gazebo, I’d managed to keep my mind off my father. Grateful for that and the dinner with Jamie to look forward to, I put any thoughts of him out of my mind. I’d been doing this for years and years. His absence from my life was normal. Seeing him on television had not been.
I managed to clean off the stainless steel box at home in my kitchen sink before presenting it to Jamie. After a good washing, I made out the engraved initials:ACH. Annabelle Higgins, I assumed, although not sure what theCstood for. “It has to be hers, right?” I asked Jamie.
We were sitting on the floor of her living room staring at the box. “Has to be. But how do we get this lock off?”
I rose to my feet. “Not a problem. I brought a hammer.” The latch, although metal, was thin and rusted. I’d have no problem breaking it using the claws of the hammer and pulling hard. “I didn’t want to do it without your permission.”
“That was very thoughtful of you,” Jamie said, a little huskily. “I do feel a kinship with her. Sometimes I swear I can feel her presence at the inn. Especially in the area of the house that used to be her studio.”
Using the hammer, I easily broke the latch. “Do you want to do the honors?” I asked Jamie.
She was looking at it with the eyes of a child standing at the candy counter. “I can’t wait. But will you do it? I’m afraid of spiders.”
I laughed. “No spider got through here, I don’t think.” The box was a small fortress and heavy. They didn’t make things like this nowadays. Good Lord, I sounded like my grandfather. An image of him flashed before my eyes. He always wore overalls and smelled of pipe smoke and sometimes of gin. His silver hair had thinned by the time I knew him, and he often wore a cap. He’d been good with his hands too, building and repairing his house up in Oregon. I’d only been able to visit him once a year. My dad wasn’t interested in maintaining a relationship with his father-in-law after my mother died. I couldn’t blame him for that.
I had plenty of other things to blame him for. Regardless, those summer weeks in Oregon were the best of my childhood. My grandfather wasn’t much of a talker, but he loved reading as much as I did. During the day, I followed him around the property helping him as best I could. In the evenings, he would make us what he called a bachelor’s feast, usually eggs or peanut butter sandwiches. On Sundays, after church, we had cheese melted between two corn tortillas with mounds of his homemade salsa. He’d been a widower since before we lost my mother and seemed to have no interest in remarrying. The only thing he ever said to me about their deaths was one of the saddest things I’d ever heard. “I am only glad your grandmother died before her daughter. It would have killed her.”
Now, I had to tug to get the lid open but finally, it came up, and I pushed it as far back as it would go, then set it all in front of Jamie. She was still on the floor and peered into the box as she clasped her hands together under her chin. Quite adorable, I had to admit.
I sat next to her. “Do you want me to look in case there are any bugs?”
“I thought you said it was too tight?”
“I’m just teasing you.” Whatever was in there had been covered with a piece of finely knit lace in a flower pattern. The material had yellowed with age but was remarkably intact. I lifted it. Inside was what looked like a leather-bound book of some kind. I pulled it out and handed it to Jamie. “A journal?” I asked.
She opened the first page. “Yes, it says ‘The property of Annabelle Cooper Higgins. All intruders beware.’”
“I hope she didn’t put a curse on it,” I said.
“It’s dated, too: 1928.” Her eyes sparkled. “This is amazing. It’s the diary of Annabelle Higgins. But why was it in the box buried in the yard?” She pulled out a long, narrow box like one a necklace would come in. At least in modern times. I had no idea what kind of jewelry men used to give to their women back then. She popped it open, but it was empty. Only a yellowed cushion where a necklace would have been displayed remained. “This must have been a special piece of jewelry. I wonder where it went and why this box is in there without it?”
“All good questions, detective,” I said.
