by Kathi Daley
“It’s not much farther,” she called back to him. Not that he didn’t look totally fit and gorgeous, but she suspected that he wouldn’t have lasted a week in the Army.
When they reached the top, she just stood in awe. “Wow. This is so… I have no words.”
“It’s beautiful. I love the way you can see both the desert and the mountains. It really is magical.”
Harper looked toward the ruins they had hiked up to find. “I wonder what we’re looking for.”
Michael shrugged. “I guess a hiding place large enough to contain the ledger, or perhaps a clue that will help us solve the first part of the puzzle Isabella left.”
She took several steps toward the crumbling stone structure. The walls were mostly intact, but the ceiling had fallen in several places. They’d need to take it slow and be extremely careful lest they themselves cause a cave-in. “Can you imagine hiking all the way up here to attend services? It must have been a bit like worshiping in heaven itself.”
“I can’t imagine hiking all the way up here for any reason. At least not on a regular basis.”
“I think the mining camp is located in this area. It could be that the hike from the camp wasn’t all that bad. Oh, look.” She pointed toward a wall that had been carved with the words “Keep your focus toward Heaven or chance a fall.”
Michael stepped toward the wall. “I wonder if this is the key we are looking for to decode the sequence of numbers in the last clue.” He looked around. “I don’t see a safe place to have hidden the ledger, but if Isabella hid it somewhere else, she may have used the message on the wall as part of her coded message to the ledger’s location.”
“Does it work as a key?”
He shrugged. “Let’s find out.” He took out a piece of paper that held the message they’d been working to decode. “The first two numbers in the sequence are one and four. If we assume first word, fourth letter, and the message on the wall represents the key in a usual left-to-right pattern, that means the clue would represent P. The first word is Keep and the fourth letter of the first word is P.”
Harper paused. “We are going to need to write this down. Unfortunately, we didn’t bring anything to write with.”
“Maybe we can use a stick to write it in the mud on the ground.”
“Good idea.” She left the enclosed area and walked to the shrubs that had grown up all around the ruins. After finding a stick, she returned to where Michael was waiting. She located a spot on the ground that was muddy but not too wet and used the stick to write the first letter. “Okay, we have P; what’s next?”
“A nine followed by a three, and then a five followed by a three.”
“The clue would be the ninth word, third letter, which is L, followed by the fifth word, third letter, which is A. That would give us PLA.”
“Next comes a seven followed by a one.”
“Seventh word, first letter, is C. That gives us PLAC. What’s next?”
“A one, followed by a two, and then a two, followed by another two.”
“First word, second letter, is E and second word, second letter, is O, so that gives us PLACEO. What’s next?”
“Three, one, two, four.”
“F and R, which gives us PLACEOFR. And after that?”
“A five, followed by a two, and then a three, followed by a five, and then another four, followed by a one. That would be EST.
She stood up. “PLACEOFREST. Place of rest.” She looked at Michael. “What was the rest of the clue?”
Michael looked down at the paper in his hand. “ʻWhere angels sing their heavenly chorus for all eternity.’”
“Which gives us: Place of rest where angels sing their heavenly chorus for all eternity.”
“The cemetery,” they said in unison.
Harper clapped her hands together. “Of course. Manuel in the church said that the man who brought the stained-glass windows here and the woman he married are buried together in a cemetery not far from the church where the windows are now. That has to be where Isabella hid the ledger.”
Michael reached out and hugged her. “Let’s go.”
******
The cemetery was deserted, which worked out fine as far as they were concerned. It was an old one, with headstones dating back more than a century.
“Manuel said that the man and woman were buried in the cemetery. If Isabella was a romantic who believed in true love despite her circumstances, I would imagine that she would have hidden the ledger near their graves.”
Michael took her hand in his as they walked up and down each row, looking at the names of each husband, wife, child, sibling, and relative who had been buried there.
“I find cemeteries sad,” she said.
“Why? Death is part of the circle of life.”
“True. But some lives are long and rich with love and laugher, while others are brief and filled with pain and suffering.” She paused. “I think my time overseas has caused me to look at life and its value somewhat differently. I have seen the underbelly of humanity. I have witnessed cruelty and suffering beyond description, and at some point, I suppose I’d seen enough death that I became numb to it. It’s easier to look at the people who die at your hand as nonhumans who presented an obstacle to you carrying out your orders and were dealt with.” She glanced at him. “But I have also seen humanity at its best. I have seen people give up their own lives so that total strangers might live. I have seen people rise to the challenge presented to them with courage and honor. I’ve witnessed the love that humans can show to one another when faced with impossible challenges in their daily lives.”
Michael tightened his hand over hers but didn’t respond. That, she decided, was actually the perfect response. A quiet acknowledgment of her experience without having the need to analyze it or offer advice.
Michael stopped at a grave. “Theodore Madison.”
“And Anastasia Madison,” she added. She swiped at a tear in the corner of her eye. “I hope they were as happy as Manuel seemed to think.”
“It appears they were together until they were both very old,” he pointed out. “I hope they were happy too.”
Harper looked around. “Okay. I’m Isabella. I have a ledger that I hope to use to secure freedom and protection for both my baby and myself. There are men after me. I know I don’t have long and it would be best to leave the ledger behind, so I hide it. Where?”
Michael stood next to her, scanning the area. “If it were an actual book of some sort, she would have looked for a place that was protected from the elements.”
“And she would have looked for a place where visitors wouldn’t stumble across it accidentally.”
“I’d take a stab and guess she dug up either Theodore or Anastasia’s grave and left the ledger with their remains, but a freshly dug grave would be too obvious.”
Harper looked at the other graves closest to Theodore and Anastasia’s. Thomas Madison lived to the ripe old age of seventy-two, but Helena Madison Lincoln died when she was only thirty-one; Steven Madison died when he was well into his sixties, while Angelica Madison died after only three days. “It looks like Theodore and Anastasia lost a baby girl. I would think that if Isabella was pregnant, that might strike a chord with her. The headstone is smaller than the others. It looks as if you could move it if you tried.”
Michael pushed the headstone. Beneath it was something wrapped in a hand-knit shawl. He lifted it and returned the headstone to its resting place. He slowly unwrapped the garment to find a black leather book. “I think we found the ledger.”
Chapter 19
It had been almost a week since Harper had said goodbye to Michael. Once they’d found the ledger, things happened quickly. They immediately headed north while Harper called Ben. He, in turn, called his FBI contact, Griswold, who agreed to meet them in Albuquerque. Given the fact that they were driving and he’d flown, he arrived not long after they did. After deleting every mention of Isabella’s pregnancy or the existence of the
baby from the thumb drive, they turned it and the ledger over to the agent, who thanked them and promised to keep them informed of any developments. As had been the plan, Michael and Harper drove to Minneapolis, where he caught a flight east for his parents’ party and she drove the SUV Ben had provided to Moosehead. While she was thrilled to finally be reunited with Princess and Bosley, and she was happy to see her family, there was a hole in her heart she knew could only be filled by a handsome computer geek with a lopsided grin and a heart the size of Texas.
“Five more minutes,” she said to the puppy, who must have noticed her stirring in bed and decided it was time to play.
Bosley responded by pouncing on her head and biting at her hair.
So much for sleeping in.
Sliding her legs to the side, she sat on the side of the bed. Picking up the puppy, she cuddled him to her chest. It had been a difficult week as she’d tried to get her bearings after so many years away. She’d been a teenager when she’d left, not much more than a child, and now she was… actually, she didn’t know what she was. She no longer felt like a child, but waking each morning in the room of her youth didn’t allow her to feel much like an adult either.
Slipping her feet into her slippers, she pulled on a robe and walked toward the window. She’d always loved the view from the second story of the old farmhouse. The orchards in the distance were dormant now, but she knew come spring the trees would be covered in flowers that would give way to the sweet fruit produced by the trees Denver and Dixie had planted all those years ago. To the right of the orchard stood the old red barn. Haley had converted the old building into her own private living space, but when Harper had lived here as a child, the barn had been filled with horses, cows, and chickens. After her dad died, her mother had decided that she was too busy building her veterinary practice to tend to so many animals, so the Hathaway family menagerie had been whittled down to six dogs, four cats, and an ornery old mule who would probably outlive them all.
“Should we go down to see if Dixie made breakfast?”
Bosley jumped around in a circle, as if communicating that breakfast sounded like a wonderful idea.
Harper picked up a brush from her dresser and ran it through her long dark hair. As a teen, she’d spent many an hour standing in front of this dresser with the attached mirror, dreaming of a future she could never quite define. Of all the Hathaway sisters, she had probably been the most unsettled. Hayden, the most ambitious and adventurous of the five, had always known she wanted to be a famous news reporter traveling the world after the next big story. Haley, the sister who most took after their father, had vowed at an early age to follow in Jagger’s footsteps and become a carpenter. Harlow loved mysteries and baking. She’d often talked of being a writer, but owning a bookstore seemed to work for her. And Haven, the youngest of the girls, and the sibling who seemed to most mirror Dixie, was a free spirit who loved animals, music, art, and nature. She hadn’t settled down quite yet, but she was young, and working as her mother’s assistant when she wasn’t traveling with her band seemed to work for her, at least for the time being.
She looked down at the puppy, who was staring at her with a look of confusion on his face. “You and I need to come up with a plan. As nice as it has been to be home, we can’t lounge around forever.”
The pup wagged his tail.
She opened the bedroom door and he shot down the stairs.
“Morning, darling. Oatmeal?” Dixie asked.
“Just coffee.” Harper opened the back door for the puppy so that he could join the other dogs in the yard. Once she made sure the gate was closed, she shut the door, crossed the room, and sat down on a barstool opposite the woman with the long white braid draped over her bright yellow peasant top. “Did Mom go to work?”
“She did. Today is discount spay-and-neuter day, so I imagine she’ll be busy lopping off danglies all day.”
Harper grinned. “Yes, I imagine she will.”
“I doubt we’ll see her before dark. This is my poker day, so unless you go out for a bite, you’ll be on your own for lunch.”
“I think I can manage.” She took a sip of the hot coffee. “Bosley and I plan to head over to Holly’s. He misses playing with her dogs and she keeps telling me to come by as often as I’d like, so I suppose I will.”
Dixie’s pale blue eyes twinkled. “She still have that new baby?”
Harper nodded. It had been hard for her to keep the secret of who Bella was from her own family, but she’d decided it was something she needed to do to ensure the baby’s safety until her father was no longer a threat.
Dixie poured what looked to be a quarter cup of sugar into her coffee. “She sure is a cute little thing. It’s too bad that she is without her mother at such a young age.”
Harper felt her heart constrict. “Yes. I feel for her. But Holly is great. In fact, I’d say that Ben and Holly represent the perfect parents. I don’t think the baby is missing out on much.”
Dixie passed a plate with homemade scones across the counter. Harper decided that a bite or two wouldn’t hurt. Dixie was the best cook in the county. She’d missed many things about Moosehead, and her grandmother’s cooking had neared the top of the list.
Dixie offered her homemade boysenberry jam for her scone. “So, are you ever going to get around to telling me the story of how you are connected to that baby?”
Harper raised a brow. “What makes you think I am connected to her at all?”
Dixie leaned forward on her elbows. “I may be getting on in years, but I promise you I still have all my faculties. It doesn’t take a genius to see that you coming home in a car that belongs to Ben without a single item from your life in California, combined with a new puppy in the family that until you arrived had been living with Ben and Holly, and a new baby in the Holiday household who you have spent time with every single day since you’ve been back, adds up to a story waiting to be told.”
Harper hesitated. “There is a story. But I’m afraid it is one that I’ve sworn not to tell.”
Dixie nodded. “Fair enough. Are you in any sort of danger?”
“Not now.”
“Okay, then. If you are going out today, would you mind stopping by the bookstore? Some of Harlow’s mail ended up mixed in with ours again. I was going to drop it off on my way to poker, but Sylvia called to ask for a ride, so it would be out of my way to make the stop.”
Harper nodded, relieved that Dixie had moved on from asking questions about Bella. “I’d be happy to. I’ve been wanting to stop by to take a look around. I can’t believe that my little sister owns The Book Nook. I practically lived in that place when I was a kid.”
“You won’t recognize it. Harlow’s done a lot to fix the place up.”
“A renovation was probably called for. I loved hanging out at The Book Nook, but I do remember it being dark and dusty. Most of the time, the books were just set out in boxes that you had to dig through to find what you wanted.”
“Harper has totally changed the feel of the place. She painted all those dark bookshelves white and stripped that old wallpaper and painted the walls a light blue. The old carpet is gone and the hardwood floors beneath were refinished. She even set up a lounge where the old storeroom used to be. She sells baked goods and offers coffee and tea there. There are tables and chairs and even sofas where you can while away a winter’s day and read.”
“It sounds charming. I’ll stop by after I visit with Holly. Maybe I’ll grab lunch for Harlow and me from the deli next door.”
“Can’t. It closed down a decade ago. There is a pizza place a few doors down that is pretty good, though, and of course there is always Dolly’s Place.”
Harper smiled at the memory of the restaurant where she’d enjoyed many a burger during her high school years. “Is Dolly still running the place?”
“For now. She has it up for sale, though.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Why is she selling?”
“Her daughter moved to
Florida and she decided to move there with her. Makes sense from a lot of different angles. I think the cold is bothering her more and more the older she gets, and she has three adorable grandbabies that she rarely gets to see now.”
Harper took a sip of her coffee. “It does sound like moving might be the best decision. I’ll miss her burgers, but everyone deserves an opportunity to reinvent themselves.” Harper looked across the counter at the seventy-five-year-old woman who never seemed to age. “Do you ever get the urge to leave Moosehead and do other things? Reinvent yourself?”
Dixie chuckled. “Lordy Bee, no. I’ve lived on this land almost my entire life and I plan to be buried here. Or at least to have my ashes spread out in the orchard next to Denver’s. Denver and I have been a team for a good long time. I spent my life with him, and I plan to spend eternity with him as well.”
“I get that. This is your home. I guess it wouldn’t make sense to move at this stage in your life.”
“If by ‘this stage’ in my life you mean my prime, I agree. I love Moosehead and this farm. Besides, it took me seventy-five years to perfect the package you see before you today. Why on earth would I want to start again?”
Harper smiled, leaned forward, and hugged her grandmother. “I can’t think of a single thing you’d want to change.”
Dixie ran a thumb over her cheek. “It’s good to have you home, baby girl.”
“It’s good to be home.”
******
Like the Hathaway farm, the Holiday farm featured a huge old farmhouse, a rustic barn, and acres and acres of land that stretched as far as the eye could see. Holly had first come to Moosehead as a baby without an identity. After graduating high school, she’d moved to New York and started her own advice column, which was widely popular and currently syndicated and published in newspapers and magazines across the country. After Holly inherited the farmhouse that had been run as a foster home during her childhood, she’d decided to move her base of operation to Moosehead and continue the legacy her own foster mother had left her.
