by Colleen Coble, Kristin Billerbeck, Denise Hunter, Diann Hunt
Heat flooded Tess’s cheeks. “I’m the last person he’d be interested in.” She grabbed a cookie from the plate. She’d mooned over Ryan since high school, not that she would admit it to anyone. He had a way of making you feel like he was really listening, really paying attention to you. With two younger sisters, she sometimes felt her needs were forgotten.
“Now, honey, you put yourself down too much,” Anna scolded. “You look fine just the way you are.” Even as her mother said the words, she stared at the cookie in Tess’s hands. “That probably has two hundred calories in it, sweetie.”
Tess put the cookie back on the plate. She avoided Clare’s sympathetic glance and unbuttoned her too-tight jacket. She’d bought it for the shower with the intention of losing those fifteen pounds. What was it they said about good intentions?
“You’re beautiful, Tess. You just don’t see it,” Zoe said in a matter-of-fact tone. “And Ryan likes you. I can tell.”
If only Tess could believe it. “His wife was Miss Vermont. I’m hardly in that league.” She resisted reaching for the cookie again. “I’m just thinking that one time at the bookstore, Ryan mentioned that he needed to clean the attic. Evidently the Hutchins family left a ton of boxes up there. Maybe he’d like some help cleaning it out.”
“Perfect. It might just take you awhile to go through them,” Clare said, grinning.
“Don’t go getting any ideas. This is strictly research. I’m not interested in Ryan.”
“Whatever you say.” Clare stood up straight and stretched. “Looks like we’ve finished up here. And I need coffee. Anyone want to go with me?”
Zoe got up. “Not me. I spend enough of my life in the coffee shop. I want to go to Ryan’s ice cream store.”
“I’ll go with you, Zoe,” Tess said. When her mother lifted a brow, she added, “If Ryan is there, I can ask him about looking through the attic.”
She followed her sisters out of the house and told herself their grandmother would thank them in the end.
CHAPTER TWO
Crème brûlée sundae coming up.” Ryan Stevenson smiled at Julia Bourne, who stood waiting with her fiancé, Zak Grant. Zak already had his banana split, complete with coconut and chocolate syrup. The late spring day was unseasonably warm and had brought in a lot of customers.
The bell over the door of the Wind Chill Creamery jingled, and Ryan straightened when he saw Tess Thomas coming in. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her blue eyes crinkled in a smile when he greeted her.
“The usual?” he asked, starting for the Almond Avalanche.
“With coconut topping,” she said. “But a small one. Zoe wants to try it too.” Her sister moved off to talk to Julia.
“Coming up.”
Tess moved closer to the display freezer and studied the flavors. “What are you doing working the counter today? I thought you’d be back in the office crunching numbers or over at the creamery supervising the cheese making. Isn’t today the big production day?”
“One of the employees here didn’t show up today. The cheese was nearly ready to ship to stores, and I needed a break.” He opened the freezer lid and began to scoop out the dark-chocolate ice cream loaded with almonds. “How about you? You’re usually at the bookstore on Saturdays.” Too late he realized he was revealing the fact that he knew her habits. She’d think he was a stalker.
“Natalie’s bridal shower was today,” she said, showing no sign of catching his slip.
“Oh yes, that’s right. Sophia went with my mother-in-law.”
“Right, she was playing with my cousin’s daughter, Mia.” Tess took the cone he handed her. “Um, listen, I have a favor to ask. Are those boxes that were there when you bought your house still in the attic?”
He began to scoop the ice cream for Zoe. “Yeah. I’ve been meaning to go through them, but it’s a mammoth job and I’ve been putting it off.” He grinned. “Are you needing donations for a garage sale?” He might even face that mountain of work if it would make Tess think more highly of him.
“No.” She took a lick of her cone and closed her eyes with a sigh. “This is the best ice cream in the world.” She opened her–eyes and looked at him again. “This is probably an odd request, but I’d like to find out more about the Hutchins family.–Especially David. I wondered if you’d mind letting me go through the attic. I’d even organize things for you and let you know what could be hauled to the dump and what could be donated.”
He handed the cone to Zoe and hoped his expression didn’t reveal his eagerness. “That sounds like an offer too good to refuse. I’ll be glad to help too.” When she blushed, he tempered his eagerness. “I mean, if you could use the help.”
“I don’t want to bother you.”
“No bother,” he assured her. “What’s with the interest in the Hutchins family?”
She glanced around to make sure no one was listening. Zoe had taken her cone and gone to an outside table with Zak and Julia, so the creamery was empty. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything about this to anyone.”
He made a zipping motion along his mouth. “My lips are sealed.”
“David Hutchins was engaged to my grandmother. She says he died in Korea and his body was never found. But here’s the funny thing. Mia just found his dog tags down a hole in the attic.”
“That is odd. How did the dog tags get in the Garners’ attic?”
“That’s what we don’t know. I’d like to find a clue about where his family went. You bought the house from them?”
He shook his head. “It was bank owned and had been for ten years. The place was a mess when I moved in. Someone else had owned it for thirty years. I’m not even sure if all the junk up there belonged to them or the Hutchins family.”
Tess’s face fell. “I hadn’t thought of that. But surely there’s a clue somewhere up there.”
“You and your mysteries,” he said, smiling. When her brows rose, he pointed to the book poking out of her bag. “You’re always reading one.”
Her blush deepened. “While you tend to read biographies.” She bit her lip. “I mean, I’ve called you a dozen times when a book you’ve ordered has come in.”
His surge of elation deflated. Of course she would know his reading habits. It was her business to know what all her customers liked. “When do you want to start?”
“After church tomorrow?”
“Sounds good. I’ll be happy to pick you up for church. Then we could go straight to my house.”
“You’d have to take me home,” she reminded him.
“I don’t mind. I’ll even spring for pizza.”
Her dimple appeared. “I don’t expect you to entertain me. It’s enough that you’re letting me do this. I’ll just drive and follow you out to your house. I don’t want to be a bother.”
Easy. Don’t rush her. “Whatever you like.”
“I’ll bring lunch as a thank-you for the access. Something easy like my spicy enchilada casserole.”
He grinned. He hated Mexican food, but he wasn’t about to tell her. He reminded himself to have lots of milk on hand so he could choke it down.
It was ridiculous to feel this nervous. It wasn’t a date. Tess was going to rummage in his attic, then leave. The aroma of chicken enchiladas wafted up her nose as she stood on the porch of the big old house and pressed the doorbell. She knew better than to moon after someone like Ryan. He was way out of her league.
The door opened, and she caught a glimpse of pale yellow walls and gleaming wood floors. Ryan was dressed in jeans and a Red Sox sweatshirt. Little Sophia hung on to his leg but peeked up at Tess with a shy smile.
“Come in,” Ryan said. He swung the door wide. “Here, let me take that.” He lifted the bag from her hands. “Smells good.”
Tess followed him into the expansive foyer. A flight of open stairs rose to the second floor. The ceilings were at least ten feet high. “Wow, your home is lovely.”
“I can’t claim any of the credit. C
andace did it all.” He pointed down the hall. “This way to the kitchen. We can eat there rather than the dining room.”
Brown granite topped the cherry cabinets. The slate floors and polished fixtures proclaimed how much the kitchen remodel had cost. Tess eyed the big island. Making bread there would be a dream come true. She couldn’t resist touching the smooth surface of the stone. And it was spotless. She’d expected a messy house since he was a single dad. He’d already stacked plates and tableware on the table at the other end of the kitchen. It was a homey wood one that didn’t match the cabinets. She wanted to ask if he’d moved it in after Candace died, but the question didn’t seem appropriate.
“I baked bread, but I didn’t bring butter,” she said. “I assumed you’d have some famous creamery butter here.”
“You bet.” He got it out of the refrigerator.
She scooped up a generous helping of the enchiladas for him. Her serving was half the size of his, but she’d nibbled on M&M’s and nuts on the way over. She sliced the bread, then joined him and Sophia at the table. She wanted to believe his expression was anticipation as he eyed his plate, but it seemed more like dismay.
“Did I give you too much?” she asked.
His smile seemed forced. “I had a late breakfast, but I’m sure it will be delicious.” He forked a bit into his mouth and chewed. His face reddened. He swallowed, then grabbed for his glass of milk. “Hot,” he croaked.
“The peppers were a little spicy,” she agreed. “The hotter the better, though, don’t you think?”
“My dad hates hot stuff,” Sophia said. “I like it, though.” Her serving was already a third gone.
Ryan had dispatched half of his glass of milk, and his face had nearly resumed its normal color. “I don’t hate hot stuff,” he said. “I’m trying to build up tolerance to it on my tongue.”
“You don’t even eat pepper, Daddy,” Sophia said.
Tess bit her lip. “Try the bread,” she said. “I put some chili powder in it, but it’s not hot.”
The refrigerator clunked as ice cubes dropped into the tray. Ryan chewed on the bread, and though his eyes widened, he didn’t lunge for his milk. Tess laughed and began to relax. He might not kick her out after all.
CHAPTER THREE
Dust motes danced in the air as Ryan stepped onto the attic floorboards. He hadn’t been up here since he and Candace first moved in eight years ago. Candace had refused to step foot in the attic after that first time. She said the place gave her the creeps.
It was a perfectly ordinary attic as far as he could tell. Wide floorboards, sloped ceilings, an assortment of boxes, trunks, and discarded furniture. The space was open all around, and a few dormer windows let in more light than the feeble bulb that hung from the middle of the room.
Tess stood under the light and surveyed the area. “All this stuff was here when you moved in?”
“Everything but the Christmas tree and decorations.” He pointed them out in the corner.
“Why would they leave so much behind?” She stepped closer to the wall and opened the drawer on a small desk. “Some of this is really nice. Lots of antiques. Maybe even worth some money.”
“Looks like junk to me.” It did too. The antique craze wasn’t something he understood, let alone was interested in. Why someone would want to dig through dusty old boxes and trunks was beyond him. Old furniture hulked in the shadows, and he had to step over several rolled-up rugs. “Where do you want to start?”
“There’s an interesting piece,” she said, pointing to a leather trunk under the window. “The trunk alone is beautiful. You should keep it for Sophia’s mementos.”
“Yeah, Daddy, I want it!” Sophia piped up. She had a doll clutched under her arm and stared around the attic as if some monster were about to pop out.
He put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “It’s just an old trunk,” he said. “It looks kind of ratty to me.”
Tess knelt in front of it. “The leather is worn, but that gives it character. And the brass will polish right up. It’s worth a lot of money.”
He opened his mouth to offer it to her, then closed it again. The last thing he wanted was to run her off on her first visit. “Here, let me open it for you,” he said when her struggles failed to lift the lid.
He knelt beside her with Sophia peering over his shoulder. Was that scent of bread from Tess’s hair? He leaned in a little closer and sniffed. The aroma made his mouth water. The lid resisted his struggles as well, and he peered at the latch. “I think it’s locked.”
She slumped back on her heels. “I think we’re thwarted unless you don’t mind breaking the lock.”
“There’s a big ring of old keys on a hook by the stairs. Maybe it’s on there.” He rose and retrieved them. The ring of keys was heavy in his hand and smelled of old metal. The assortment varied from skeleton keys to old house keys.
Tess and Sophia came to stand by him as he flipped through them. “The trunk key will be smaller and probably silver colored,” she said.
“How do you know so much about trunks?” He held up a key and walked back to the trunk with Sophia on his heels.
“My grandmother loves antiques. Her house is full of them. She gave each of us girls a trunk for our eighteenth birthday. Mine is smaller than this and not as fancy, but most trunks open the same way.”
“Let me, Daddy.” Sophia’s small hand closed over the key.
He let her take it and helped her guide it into the keyhole. When it clicked, he lifted the lid with ease. The scent of old clothing rose to his nose when he touched the stack of brightly colored fabric inside the trunk. “Nothing much here.”
“Fuzzy dice!” Tess swooped past him to lift out a large set of black-and-white dice. “I’ve seen pictures of these. They used to hang a set from the rearview mirror.”
Her elation struck him as funny, and he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.
She twirled the dice. “They’re so cute.” She handed them to Sophia and began to riffle through the contents again. “What else is in here? Ooh, look, there’re a bunch of old records. And a Betty Boop cookie tin.” She glanced up at him. “Grandma said David called her his Betty Boop. I wonder if she brought him homemade cookies in this tin.”
“It might be why he kept it. Betty Boop was the Marilyn Monroe of her era, so your grandma must have been really beautiful to him.”
She dived in again. “The records are heavy.”
“Let me get them.” His arm brushed hers as he bent over and lifted the heavy stack of old records. “The Everly Brothers, Elvis, Johnny Horton, Chuck Berry. Someone was collecting all the popular albums of the day.”
He looked in again and saw something furry in the bottom of the trunk. “A coonskin cap! My dad had one of these. It belonged to my grandpa.”
Her eyes were sparkling. “And you said this stuff was boring.”
Tess had a way of lighting up a room with enthusiasm and joy. There was always a smile on her face, and he’d never seen her discouraged or upset. He’d seen the bookstore employees send complaining customers her way, and she always seemed able to calm them and send them home satisfied. That took a special gift. He liked her soft curves and the sheen of her hair. He suspected she had no idea how beautiful she was.
“Look at this,” she said.
He realized he’d been staring at her, and her cheeks were pink. The engraved plate she indicated was attached to the inside of the trunk. “‘David Hutchins,’” he said. “So this belonged to him.”
“I bet Grandma did bring him cookies in that tin.”
He grinned. “You’re on quite the investigation.”
Her face clouded. “But we don’t know for sure without asking her.”
“Take it and ask her about it. Really, you can have anything up here you want.”
“Thanks.” She looked around. “These things are worth a lot of money, Ryan. You really should get an antique dealer up here.”
“I’ll think abou
t it,” he said. “Now, what else do you want to look at?”
Even poking through dusty boxes would be fun if she was with him.
The small guest bath was a warm tan. The marble tile was exactly what Tess would have chosen herself if she had unlimited funds and a house this gorgeous. But all it succeeded in doing was making her feel even more inadequate. Not only had Ryan’s first wife been beautiful, but she’d possessed a sense of style Tess could never match.
She washed the dust from her hands and arms and scrubbed a black smudge on her cheek. “You are crazy,” she told her image in the mirror. “Look at yourself. Hair in a ponytail, no makeup. You are the last person Ryan Stevenson would take a second look at.” At least the red top brought out the sheen of her dark hair and lifted a bit of color to her skin.
The towel on the ring was plush tan. She almost let her hands air-dry rather than mar the perfection of the thick terry. But that was silly. She dried her hands, then threw back her shoulders and practiced a smile. Her mother always said that proper carriage could erase five pounds. And if she smiled enough, maybe Ryan would keep his attention on her face.
She found Ryan and Sophia in the living room on beautiful tan leather furniture. A rug that had to cost the earth gleamed with rich shades of blue, gold, and pumpkin atop oak floors. The place was immaculate, with just the right touches of accessories. It made Tess want to run for the comfort of her small cottage with its happily messy rooms.
Ryan’s gaze warmed when he saw her. “Sophia was asking for a story, but I guess I’m not the storyteller she wants.”
“I want you to read me a book,” Sophia said. She held up a copy of Olivia. “Daddy doesn’t do Olivia’s voice very well. He makes snorting sounds.”
“Well, that’s not right. Olivia is much too genteel to snort.” Tess took the book and sank into the soft cushion beside the little girl. The book was worn with a few chocolate spots. “Ice cream?”
