“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“No.” He walked to the pantry and opened the doors. “I saw some Christmas cookies in here when I found my mug. Would you like one?”
“That would be great.”
By the time he made it back to the counter he’d left his childhood where it belonged—in the past. “I didn’t know you were coming to the party.”
“Neither did I until this morning. I helped Hayley decorate the cookies and she invited me. I had lunch with my family, then drove to Emerald Lake.”
“How were your brothers?”
“The same as they normally are. Luke has a new girlfriend, so that diverted most of the conversation away from me.”
“Have you told them about the journal?”
Kelly shook her head. “Not yet. Once we know what’s inside, I’ll tell them. I’m going back to the auction house tomorrow. I’m hoping they might have more information about Celeste Madison and her family.”
“Good idea. I’m working from Bozeman next week, but I won’t be able to help until Wednesday. Will you be all right following the leads on your own?”
“I’m always all right.”
He watched her gather her pride and wear it like a plate of armor. “Ignore me. It’s my male testosterone speaking.”
That earned him a smile.
“Don’t worry about it. I get a bit prickly after seeing my brothers—they bring out the worst in me.”
“I imagine families can do that.”
Kelly took a deep breath. “Did your mom ever come back?”
“No. I moved between foster homes until I was eighteen.” He waited for what she’d say; the sympathetic words that fell out of most people’s mouths.
“I’m glad you became the amazing person you are.” She kissed him on his cheek, softly and quickly, then stood beside him. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”
He couldn’t speak, so he nodded and picked up his coffee. He tried to let Kelly’s words wash over him, but he couldn’t. Tears stung his eyes as the child inside him wept.
He left his coffee on the counter and closed his eyes. If he could wish for anything, it would be that no child went through life feeling unloved.
At least today he’d made a difference.
CHAPTER FIVE
By Monday afternoon, Kelly was exhausted. She’d tossed and turned all night, imagining what Tanner’s childhood must have been like.
She was worried about him, but she didn’t know what to do. He’d been so patient with the children at yesterday’s party that it was hard to imagine him not having the kind of life she’d had. As much as her brothers annoyed her, she wouldn’t change anything about them.
The bell above her door jingled and her friend Mia came into the store. “Are you ready for our art collective meeting?”
Kelly put away the invoices she’d been working on and smiled. “As ready as I’ll ever be. How was your day?”
Mia tilted her head to the side. “Productive. I finished one painting and started sketching another.”
“You must be pleased.”
“I am. Granddad’s adding my painting to an abstract exhibition he’s curating next month.”
“That’s if it hasn’t sold already.” Kelly had seen how quickly Mia’s oil paintings left the gallery. In one week alone, two of her paintings had gone to overseas buyers.
She pulled out a box from under her sales counter. “I bought this box of paints from the auction last week. They’re for your art class.”
“You didn’t need to buy them.”
“Yes I did,” Kelly said. “You help so many people—it was the least I could do.”
Mia opened the box and smiled. “It’s a wonderful gift. My students will be thrilled. Now show me the jewelry you’ve been working on.”
Kelly followed Mia into the space they were using for their meeting. For the last ten years she’d been making necklaces and fantasy jewelry. Most of her jewelry was sold via her online store or made as commissioned pieces.
“What do you think?” Kelly asked as she held a pendant necklace toward Mia.
“It’s beautiful.” Mia ran her fingers along the amber-colored stone and gold filigree setting. “Where did you find this gemstone? It looks as though it’s on fire.”
“I found it in a piece of jewelry I won at an auction in Great Falls.” Kelly pulled a dark blue gemstone out of a pouch in her box of treasures. “This was from last week’s auction. I’ve got something special in mind for it.”
“I don’t know how you find time to make jewelry and run your own business.”
“Neither do I.” Kelly looked over her shoulder when the doorbell rang again. “That might be someone else for our meeting. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Claire and Holly were standing just inside the door, stomping their feet on the mat and pulling off their scarves.
Holly took off her woolly hat. Bright red hair spilled over her shoulders. “It’s so cold outside. There must be more snow on the way.”
“I hope not,” Kelly said as she took their coats. “It’s bad for business if people can’t come in for their Christmas presents.”
“You’ll never have to worry about that,” Claire said. “You’ve cornered the market on quirky, beautiful gifts. If anyone is given something from your store they won’t be disappointed.”
Kelly turned the sign on the door to “Closed”. “I hope not. Come through to the back of the store. Mia arrived a few minutes ago.”
Holly and Claire picked up the portfolios they’d brought with them and followed her.
“Oh, wow!” Holly stopped in front of the display of toy cars. “These are adorable. Daniel would love them.” She picked up one of the cars. “Would you mind if I bought some of these before I leave tonight?”
“I wouldn’t mind at all,” Kelly said. “There are another six in the storage room. I’ll get them later if you’d like to have a look.”
“Yes, please.” The sunny smile on Holly’s face made Kelly’s heart a little lighter. It felt good to see her friend so happy.
The only people who wouldn’t be here tonight were Elizabeth and Hannah. Kelly wasn’t worried about having a smaller group. When everyone came, their meetings were loud and boisterous. After a week of juggling her time between the store and the contents of the mystery box, a noisy meeting was the last thing she needed.
Claire passed Kelly a cup of hot chocolate. “You look as though you need this more than I do. You haven’t been burning the midnight oil, have you?”
Mia put her mug on the table. “I was thinking the same thing. There are black rings under your eyes.”
“Gee, thanks,” Kelly said. “You know how to make a girl feel special.”
“You know we worry about you,” Mia said. “You don’t need to work eighty-hour weeks. Your business is a success.”
Kelly hugged her friend. “Thank you. And you’re right—I haven’t slept much over the last few nights. I’ve been trying to work out the code for the journal I found.”
Holly sat down and pulled out her sketchpad. “I’m missing something. What journal did you find and where is the code?”
Claire sat beside Mia. “Kelly bought a mystery box at an auction last week. There were a few things inside it, but the most interesting item was a journal. It’s written in some kind of code.”
Holly’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Kelly nodded. “I’ve put the journal away, but I could show you the photocopied pages.”
“That would be awesome.”
“I’ll be back soon.” She rushed upstairs and grabbed the box that was sitting on her dining table. Tanner’s voice whispered in the back of her mind, telling her to be careful. But she didn’t have to be careful with her friends. She trusted Mia, Hannah, and Claire with her life.
“Here it is,” Kelly said as she lay the pages on the table in front of Holly. “These are the first six pages.”
Claire stoo
d behind Holly. “It’s like something out of a James Bond movie.”
Kelly smiled. “Avery feels like Indiana Jones every time she does some research. I bought a portrait of a woman at the same auction. Avery found a photo from the 1850s showing the painting hanging in someone’s home.”
Holly ran her finger along the text. “Has anyone managed to decipher the code yet?”
“No. Tanner gave a copy of the journal to one of his friends at Fletcher Security. We’re hoping she can help.”
Claire walked across to the box. “Can I look at what else is in here?”
“Sure,” Kelly said. “There’s a silver teapot, tray, and quilt. Tanner and I took them to a professor at Montana State University on Saturday. She said they’re all from around the 1850s. Apart from being owned by the same person, we don’t know very much about them.”
Holly frowned. “I haven’t seen you for a month and I’m really feeling out of the loop. Who’s Tanner?”
“A security specialist with Fletcher Security,” Kelly said.
“He keeps bidding against Kelly at the auctions they go to,” Mia said. “I can’t wait to meet him.”
Claire put on the cotton gloves and took the quilt out of the box. “This is lovely. Look at the design.”
“Professor Harding said it was made around the same time as the journal.”
Claire ran her finger across the fabric. “Mom used to quilt. Someone spent a lot of time making this.”
Mia joined Claire. “The students in my art class did a screen printing workshop last year. We used different quilt designs as building blocks for their prints. It was fascinating.”
“Each design tells a different story—almost like a journal,” Mia murmured.
Holly grinned at Kelly. “This is much more exciting than discussing painting techniques, exhibitions, and our social lives. Will you let us know what Tanner’s friend says about the journal?”
“Of course I will. Now tell me what happened when you went to Scotland to see your dad. Did you have a good time?”
“I had a wonderful time.”
While Holly told everyone about her vacation, Kelly carefully placed everything in the box.
As one conversation led into another, she relaxed and began to enjoy herself.
Tonight was exactly what she’d needed, even if another three people knew about the journal.
***
Kelly turned over in bed. She squinted at her bedside clock and groaned. Two o’clock in the morning was the worst possible time to wake up. She should be sound asleep, deep in dreamland.
Instead, she was counting sheep and listening to the creaks and groans of a building that was more than a hundred years old.
She tried to remember what she’d been dreaming about, but nothing made sense. The only thing she remembered was Mia’s voice repeating the same words over and over again.
Each design tells a different story—almost like a journal.
Kelly buried her head in her pillow and tried to block out Mia’s voice. No matter how hard she tried, the same words kept popping out of nowhere.
She hauled herself upright and frowned.
That was it. Mia was a genius.
Kelly threw the blankets off her legs, pulled on a pair of socks and rushed into her office. While her computer was starting, she found a sweater and yanked it over her head.
Years ago, she’d watched a documentary about the different ways quilts had been used throughout the centuries. She had no idea what the documentary was called or why she’d even watched it, but it was stuck in her head along with Mia’s words.
She clicked on the Internet, typed quilt messages, and waited a millisecond for the results to appear. The first page was full of website links and articles about the Underground Railroad quilt code.
Kelly rubbed her eyes and clicked on the first link. As soon as she started reading she ignored how tired she was. According to the website, quilt patterns had been used as secret messages to help slaves in the Southern states escape from captivity before and during the American Civil War. There was a lot of controversy around the quilts—no one could find any evidence that they ever existed. Oral histories, passed down through generations of families, were the only proof they’d been used.
There were pictures of quilt designs—log cabins, monkey wrenches, and wagon wheels—and the meaning of each shape. Some designs identified safe houses, others told the slaves what to take with them or whether there was danger ahead.
If Professor Harding was correct, her quilt had been made during one of the most dangerous times for any slave wanting freedom.
Kelly’s gaze drifted to the shelf where she’d left the box containing the auction items.
She was missing something. But what?
The notes Professor Harding had given her were sitting beside her keyboard. She picked up the paper and read each line, searching for anything she’d overlooked.
Her gaze kept returning to the shelves.
She didn’t know what Professor Harding had meant by a variation on the chimney sweep design. With nothing left to lose, she searched the Internet. When she found some pictures of the design, she slid her hands into a pair of gloves and took the quilt out of the box.
The images on her computer were almost identical to her quilt. Cream fabric blocks formed a cross in the center of each square panel. Around the edge of each cross were blocks in different colors. The only difference between her design and those on the Internet were the colored blocks in the center of the panels.
She turned on her desk lamp and looked closely at the quilt. Someone had embroidered a flower in each of the colored squares. She ran her eye over each design, then stopped and looked again.
The stem of each flower formed a letter.
Kelly opened her desk drawer and took out a pencil and some paper. She wrote each of the letters as they appeared on the quilt, then changed their order around, trying to make a word or phrase that made sense.
None of the combinations worked.
She took the photocopied pages of the journal off her bookshelf. If the quilt was the clue she was looking for, there had to be a simple way of working out the code.
Leaning forward, she peered at the quilt. Each square block was a different color. None of the letters or colors were repeated.
All twenty-six letters of the alphabet were in the journal, so if the quilt was the key to reading the journal, the code would need to be replicated throughout the alphabet.
She chewed the end of her pencil, staring at each of the square blocks.
The stem of the flower on the red block formed the letter ‘x’, the green block had the letter ‘m’, and the blue block had the letter ‘h’.
Kelly turned the paper over and wrote down the alphabet. The color of the fabric might have something to do with the code. She took the first letter of each color’s name and wrote the letter that was embroidered beneath it. R for red became the letter ‘x’, G for green became the letter ‘m’. She did the same for the other four letters, then studied the paper.
Living with five older brothers had taught her that the best secrets were usually hidden right under your nose. If you made things too complicated, you could trip yourself up.
She looked for similarities between each letter, the order they appeared in the alphabet—anything that could help break the code.
After a few minutes of scribbling down ideas she picked up the photocopies of the journal. She wrote the first line of letters on her sheet of paper. Underneath, she wrote new letters using the code from the quilt.
It didn’t work so she tried again. After her third attempt she rubbed her eyes and moved the letters around. All she needed to do was make sense of one word. After that, she was sure the rest of the text would fall into place.
Her hand moved across her new alphabet as she matched the letters with the first word in the journal. The second word followed the same code. Tears filled her eyes as she finished writing the first two s
entences.
My name is Abagail. I am a slave.
***
Kelly paced backward and forward across her living room. Every few minutes she glanced at her watch and then at her cell phone.
So far, she’d translated six pages of the journal. The enormity of what she’d discovered made her feel sick and excited at the same time.
It was three-thirty in the morning. Everyone she knew would be sound asleep, just like she should have been.
There was only one person she wanted to talk to, but it was ridiculous to think it was a good idea to call him.
Her hand hovered over her phone. Tanner said he was working from Bozeman this week, but she didn’t know what he was doing. He could be on an assignment or sleeping. Either way, he wouldn’t want her to phone him before sunrise.
She went back to the kitchen, made herself a hot chocolate and ate her third cookie.
If she didn’t tell someone soon she was going to eat everything in her pantry and have a stomach ache for the rest of the day.
Before she changed her mind, she ran across to the dining table, picked up her cell phone and called Tanner.
The dial tone seemed to go on forever. She looked at her watch and winced. Hopefully, he was a morning person—a really early morning person.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Tanner. It’s Kelly. I’m sorry to call you so early, but I had to tell someone what I’ve found and I knew you’d be interested.”
“Do you know what time it is?”
“I know, but I thought you’d be used to early wake-up calls—because of your job, not for other reasons that I shouldn’t talk about. And it will only take a minute or two, or maybe three if you ask lots of questions.”
She heard Tanner sigh. “How much coffee have you been drinking?”
“None. I couldn’t sleep if I had coffee at this time of the morning, not that I’m going to be able to go back to sleep. I’ve been awake since two o’clock this morning.”
Tanner yawned. “No kidding. You’d better tell me what you want me to know so I can go back to sleep.”
Just Breathe (The Protectors Book 2) Page 6
