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“Oh.” He seemed taken aback. “That was good of him.”
We wandered along the footpath and turned onto Centennial Street. The Colonial-style buildings looked more yellow than usual in the warm sun, and groups of tourists clustered on the pavement, some of them spilling onto the road. While cars could drive through here, many chose to park at the edges and walk in. Destiny Falls was a pedestrian-friendly town.
“When was the town built?” Blair asked. “It looks like they’ve kept a lot of the original architecture.”
“They have.” I was pleased he’d picked up on it. The locals had a lot of pride in the fact that their buildings were beautifully restored and maintained. “I think most of it was constructed in the 1860s, during the gold rush. There used to be a gold mine in the side of Destiny Peak, and many of the local rivers are still panned for gold—not that you’d find more than the occasional fleck or nugget. But the Heritage Museum would be able to tell you more accurately.” I pointed toward the building, which was across the road and down a couple of blocks. “They keep a lot of information about the town’s heyday there. Destiny Falls was a big deal at one point, and Arthur Emerson, who runs the museum, is a font of local knowledge.”
“I’d like to see the museum,” Blair said, earning a smile from me as we changed course to cross the street.
We paused outside and I fished in my pockets for a coin to drop into the donations box as we entered the museum. There was nobody in the foyer, so we passed into the main part of the building, which was a rabbit warren of rooms and corridors with glass display cases built into the walls. We found Arthur Emerson inside the room where they kept a collection of old mining tools.
“Guests.” The small man clapped his hands in delight, his perfectly trimmed gray mustache jiggling with the motion. “Are you happy looking or would you like the full tour experience?”
“Hi, Arthur,” I said, hoping he’d recognize me after all this time. And not hate me.
Arthur took a pair of spectacles from the front pocket of his striped shirt and propped them on his nose, then a smile spread over his face. “Kennedy, my dear!” He stepped forward with open arms, and I gave him a quick hug, pleased to have received a warm response rather than the cool reception I’d been granted in other parts of town. “I’ve been keeping up with your career. I always knew you were meant for big things, although I had hoped you might stay here.”
My smile faded. “Things happened that made it pretty much impossible, but I’m here now and I plan to stay.”
“Yes, I think I know a little about that.” His expression was sympathetic. “Many people made it their business not to know, but I’ve always been the curious type.” He looked me up and down. “I’m glad to see you’ve been eating since you arrived. Whenever I saw you on the television, I wanted to hand you a piece of pie. You were too thin, dear.”
“Tell me about it,” Blair grumbled. “That’s what the film industry does to women. Chews them up and spits them out with an eating disorder and a drug addiction.”
I shot him a look. The last thing I needed was for him to start rumors. “Fortunately, I avoided both of those.” I gestured at Blair. “This is my brother. He’s visiting for….” I trailed off, realizing we hadn’t discussed time frames.
“A few days,” Blair filled in. “Maybe a couple of weeks. As long as I’m needed, really.”
“Blair.” I huffed. “You have a career. You can’t just walk away from it indefinitely.”
His chin set mulishly. “Can and will. You’re more important.”
Arthur smiled and offered him a hand. “I like you,” he said. “I think we’re going to get along well.”
Blair’s expression was smug.
“Now that we’re introduced, indulge an old man.” Arthur led us to one of the display cases. “I want to take you on a historical journey.”
“Go for it,” I told him. “We have nowhere else to be.”
As we followed Arthur through the rooms, he gave a practiced spiel, pausing every now and then to add facts or clarify. I was amazed, once again, by how much knowledge he held. I didn’t pay much attention to the stories themselves, since I’d heard most of them before. It was a photograph, and the accompanying note, that caught my eye.
“Wait,” I interrupted before he moved on to another point. “You’re saying the couple in that picture are the ones who started the mythology around Destiny Falls being a destination for young lovers wanting to pledge themselves to each other?”
“They are.” His expression wistful, he took the framed photograph off the shelf so I could see it better. “We don’t know much about them other than they were married at the waterfall and the photographer referred to them as Rocky and Jewel. I have no idea if those were nicknames or their real names.”
“Wow.” I studied the photograph, which showed a pretty brunette with a beauty mark not dissimilar to Marilyn Monroe’s, and a slightly older man with his arm around her. His face was craggy, but there was no denying the devotion in his eyes as he gazed down at her. It was a powerful picture. I understood why the story had captured people’s imaginations. “Rocky and Jewel.” I wondered if there was more evidence of them around the township. “I’d love to find out what became of them.”
“Don’t go getting all mushy on us,” Blair warned. “They were just a couple who got married and didn’t leave much of a paper trail. Hardly some small-town Romeo and Juliet.”
“We’d all like to know, dear,” Arthur said. “If you ever find out, I hope you’ll come to me first.”
“Of course.”
We finished the tour and lingered in the exit.
“I’m keen to get back outside,” Blair said. “Didn’t you say there are walking trails around here?”
I nodded. “There are maps at the information center if you’d like to have a look.”
