After finding nothing open in town that offered a dress that would make her feel less conspicuous at the mansion, she resorted to searching the attic where she’d remembered seeing an assortment of dresses that her grandmother had worn over several different eras. Though her grandmother had never lived in the apartment above the bookstore, she had used it to stow away most of her things since her tiny bungalow was already very cramped. Surely she could find something suitable among the retro styles that that hung mummified in plastic just waiting for someone to cherish them once again.
At the back of the attic, several rows of dresses hung in chronological order, and were grouped by color. As much as her grandmother’s organizational habits irritated her sometimes, she was grateful that she was able to quickly spot a set of simple but tasteful dresses from the 1950’s that didn’t look too outdated. In fact, she found a brown and white dress with round, pink buttons down the front, a scoop-neck and a full, pleated skirt. It was just the right sort of dress for the brunch. It was dressy-casual, and conservative enough to keep a proper appearance. After all, she didn’t want to encourage Henry’s almost obvious match-making with his grandson.
Locating a pair of sable brown shoes from the back of her closet, she slipped the dress over her head to avoid having to fuss with the metal zipper on the side of the dress. Being as old as it was, she worried if she was able to lower the zipper, she may not be able to close it.
With the dress neatly in place, she studied her appearance in the long mirror beside her dresser. The dress was a perfect fit. It hugged her narrow waist, while the skirting disguised her slender legs, giving her a shapelier look. Her shoulder-length blond hair fell nicely against the dress, while the color seemed to offset her pale skin. She’d always looked better in neutral colors, and this dress was a perfect fit in every way. Dipping her feet into the brown flats, she momentarily wondered if she dared to wear the brown hat she’d spotted that completed the look.
Maybe next time.
CHAPTER TWO
As she pulled into the curved, brick drive that led to the mansion, she realized she’d never been this close to it. She’d driven past it out on the main road, but not one of those times did she ever think she’d be pulling into the driveway—much less getting an invitation to Sunday brunch. Concerned that her car might leak oil or other car fluids on the bricks, she pulled her car all the way around the curve to the other end and put it in park.
She sat there for a moment, rethinking her outfit and her judgment in accepting such an invitation. She was far from wealthy; what would she have in common with this family? What could she possibly talk about that would keep her sounding like she came from the wrong side of the tracks? Henry seemed very down-to-earth, but then again, she couldn’t even be sure he knew who she even was.
Taking a deep breath, Amy opened the car door and stepped out onto the brick driveway. She took her time walking the length, admiring the topiary trees and the ivy that crawled up the sides of the red, brick walls that encased the grounds. The mansion was also constructed of red brick, with a wraparound porch and a balcony that mirrored it. Large, white pillars invited her up the steps that led to painted shaker-style furniture that graced the far end of the porch. She imagined sitting there on a summer afternoon sipping lemonade, a breeze wafting over the branches of the large maple trees that occupied the front lawn.
Stop stalling and ring the doorbell. Might as well get this over with and go back to reality.
An older gentleman in a suit with tails answered the door and invited her in. After closing the door; he “announced” her presence loudly, though no one was around to receive her. Henry suddenly popped out a room down the hall and rushed to her side.
He cupped her arm in his; leading her in the same direction he came from. “I’ve asked Hollis not to do that but he doesn’t listen. I hope he didn’t embarrass you. He can be rather loud.”
Amy shook her head as she walked along with Henry to the library. At the far end of the room, a group of leather chairs gathered a circle around a fireplace with a cherry-wood mantle. From the doorway, Amy could see the top of someone’s dark, curly head sitting facing the fireplace. Henry ushered her toward the chairs, but she motioned for him to go ahead of her. As they neared the seating area, dark, curly hair stood up; his broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist. He turned, revealing rippled abs through a fitted, white t-shirt that tucked smoothly into his tan pants. Thin, wavy chest hair extended from the neckline; his face and neck shaven except for the beginnings of a goatee. He extended a smile, causing Amy to blush.
Smile back and say hello before he thinks you’re a freak for staring at his ruggedly hot body.
He extended his hand to her. “I’m Jake. You must be Amy. Grandfather has been talking about you for the last few days.”
She leaned in and shook his hand, breathing in his woodsy aftershave. “Yes. I’m Amy. It’s a pleasure meeting you.”
Henry motioned for her to take the chair next to Jake, and she was quick to accept. She kept her eyes on Jake, noticing the flecks of blue that caught the sunlight filtering in through the tall windows on each side of the fireplace. He placed a bookmark in the thick, leather-bound book he’d been reading and placed it on the table in front of them. Amy read the cover.
He reads Tolstoy? I knew I should have stuck to the advanced reading list in my literature class. What on earth am I going to talk to him about?
Jake noticed her staring at the book. “It was my mother’s. I’ve tried several times to read it, but the language isn’t exactly my style.”
“I had a literature class and the professor put that on the advanced reading list. I’ve tried to read as many as I can, but I prefer to read books that are written in today’s language. I enjoy reading a good piece of fiction that I don’t have to cross-reference with a dictionary or cliff notes.”
Well now you managed to make yourself sound stupid. Just smile. Maybe he won’t notice.
He smiled back; his dimples mesmerizing her.
“I think I just enjoy knowing that my mother was once reading the same pages. I probably spend more time wondering what she thought about the book than I do reading it. She passed away five years ago, but I can still hear her voice insisting I read all the classics. She wanted to read them all before she died, but she left a few behind.”
“My father was really into the classics, too. He died before I was born, but my mother kept his collection of books.”
Jake ran a hand through his thick hair. “It’s tough losing a parent. I can’t imagine never having known my mother.”
“I have a wonderful stepfather, but it probably isn’t the same as having a real father raise you.”
Amy shivered, wishing she’d worn a sweater, and chiding herself for wearing such a light dress in October.
Jake placed a warm hand on hers, sending a different kind of shiver through her. “I could make a fire if you’re cold.”
Amy nodded her head in agreement, fearing if she spoke while his hand was still on hers, her voice would crack.
She watched him kneel on the floor and open the flue, knowing she shouldn’t stare at his backside, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the way his Dockers hugged him. His muscles flexed as he lifted several wedges of freshly cut wood from the stack that lay upon the brick floor where they looked like they’d been recently placed. The decorative, tin canister on the mantle contained long matches, which he used to strike the pine cones he’d pulled from a wicker basket on the other side of the fireplace. Within minutes, flames rose up, crackling in the quietness of the room.
Amy looked around the room, realizing Henry had slipped out unnoticed. She wondered how long he’d been gone, and why he’d left them alone. Faint noises sounded from down the hall somewhere, but she didn’t care; she was beginning to warm up; to the room, and to Jake.
She considered mentioning Jonathon, but decided against it. She and Jonathon had known each other most of their lives. He and
Emma were her best friends, and she’d always had them both by her side; until a few months ago when she moved here. She missed them both so much, and couldn’t wait for their visit next week for a long weekend over Halloween.
Pushing the thought aside, she kept her eyes on Jake as he stoked the fire, making sure it didn’t die down before the logs caught well enough to keep burning.
“We’re having a Halloween party here next weekend. It’s more like a costume ball, but you’re welcome to come. My mother always threw the party every year, and I’ve tried to keep that going for the sake of my little sister, Natalie.”
Aw, how sweet is that?
“My friends from back home are coming to visit with me next weekend.”
Why didn’t I say boyfriend? This would be a lot easier if he wasn’t so attractive.
“Bring them along. There will be plenty of food to go around.”
I should have said boyfriend. Now what do I do?
“If you’re sure it’s okay, I’ll tell Emma and Jonathon to bring costumes.”
Saying his name is not the same as saying he’s your boyfriend. He probably thinks Emma and Jonathon are a couple.
“Sounds like fun. I can’t wait to meet your friends.”
I’m not so sure Jonathon is going to be happy to meet you.
He smiled at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back. His dimples were intoxicating. She wondered why she never felt this giddy when Jonathon smiled at her. She supposed it was because she’d known him for so long that their friendship just sort of grew into love. But was she in love with him?
He sat beside her, satisfied the fire was going strong. “Are you warming up?”
Amy folded her arms and ran her hands briskly up and down to create friction on her arms. “Not quite, but the fire is helping.”
Jake stood up and grabbed a throw blanket from the window seat. “I should have given this to you ten minutes ago.”
He wrapped it around her shoulders, holding it snuggly in place. “Better?”
She smiled and nodded.
I think I’m warmer because you practically have your arms around me, but I’m not complaining.
“Our Halloween bash is always a big hit around here. They say Kendallville is haunted, which makes it even more fun.”
“I’ve heard the history of the town, but I don’t scare easily.”
A jingling sound jolted her in her seat.
Jake chuckled. “That would be the dinner bell. I thought you said you didn’t scare easily.”
Amy nudged him. “I don’t. It just caught me off guard.”
Jake smile at her and nudged her back. If it’s any consolation, it still makes me jump sometimes when I’m in here reading.”
Jake took Amy’s hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, and led her down a long hallway decorated with family photos.
Is he just being a gentleman, or does he like me?
They passed several elegant rooms on the way, and Amy tried to peek into them as she passed by, but she didn’t want to be rude by staring.
When they entered the dining room, Jake introduced her to his father, Stewart; his sister, Natalie; his older brother, Noah and his very pregnant wife, Cassie; Connor’s girlfriend, Andrea; his Grandpa Jack, and Grandma Ellen on his mother’s side; his Aunt Daphne and Uncle William on his mother’s side, and his cousins; Sylvia and Charlie. After a round of greetings, he even introduced the Amish cooks; Esther and Naomi as though they were part of the family.
Naomi squeezed Jake’s arm. “Such a good boy, this one is. Takes after his momma.”
Jake smiled at the aging woman and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “And Naomi makes the best pumpkin bread you will ever taste.”
He pulled out a chair for Amy, then, sat in the chair next to her. The table was so crowded with family that Jake had to scoot his chair over, causing his thigh to brush up against Amy’s. He didn’t attempt to move his leg away from hers, and it warmed her cheeks thinking about it.
There was so much food at the table; Amy didn’t think she could eat that much in a week. There was eggs Benedict, bacon, sausage, muffins, fruit of every kind, meat and bread for sandwiches, and a tureen full of creamy pumpkin soup.
Henry, who sat at the head of the table, cleared his throat, causing everyone to immediately stop the table chatter. They joined hands and bowed their heads. Amy felt Jake’s warm hand slip around hers, and a cold hand touched her other hand. Jake’s hand fidgeted in hers, and she gave it a squeeze as if to send him a silent message to hold still. She peeked sideways at Jake in time to catch the grin that spread across his face. He returned the squeeze.
Is he flirting with me?
Before she could give it another thought, the prayer was over, and Jake sent her another quick squeeze before he released her hand. Amy looked at him, trying to make eye contact, but he was already spooning some fruit onto his plate, and didn’t look her way.
He’s ignoring me! Well, two can play at this game.
Amy nudged his leg lightly, and before she realized, he reached down and placed his hand on her knee as if to put an end to the game. He flashed her a sideways grin before releasing his hand.
Okay. Game over. For now…
Brunch was filling, as was the conversation. Her family was close, but it was rare to have three generations represented at her family’s table; that was usually spared for holidays only. She enjoyed the banter between them, and by the end of the meal, she was joining in as though she had always known them.
While Naomi and Esther cleared the plates, each member, one-by-one excused themselves until only Jake and Amy remained. A brief awkward silence hovered until Jake suggested a walk in the garden.
“Natalie has sweaters hanging in the hall closet, and I know she wouldn’t mind if you borrowed one.”
“That sounds lovely.”
Lovely? Really, Amy…who are you right now?
Jake stood, reaching for Amy’s hand to assist her from her chair. As before, he hooked her arm in his and led her to the foyer. He picked a light brown sweater from the closet and wrapped it around her shoulders. Then he opened the door and gestured for her to exit before him.
Such a gentleman.
Once they were both on the porch, he hooked her arm in his and pointed toward a maze of topiary trees and late-blooming flowers.
“Sorry if I made you angry at the dinner table.”
Game on.
She smiled slightly. “What do you mean?”
He cleared his throat. “When I squeezed your hand. And I hope you don’t think I was being forward by touching your knee.”
He’s squirming.
“Then why did you do it?”
“You seemed a little overwhelmed by meeting everyone, and I was only trying to make you feel like part of the family. Natalie always sits next to me and we elbow each other and put stuff on each other’s plates…you might have noticed.”
She had, but she wasn’t letting him off the hook. Watching him squirm was actually fun.
“I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”
His look was so sincere, she couldn’t continue the charade.
“No you didn’t. I enjoyed talking with your family. They made me feel very welcome.”
He smiled. “I’m glad you like them. And I’m glad grandfather brought you here today. Connor told me you own a bookstore and coffee shop.”
“My grandmother gave it to me as a graduation present. She showed me the ropes for the first few weeks, then, took off out of town like she’d seen a ghost. I’m not sure where she is, but she called me last week and told me it would be a couple of weeks before she would head home. She says she’s on sabbatical and sight-seeing around the U.S.”
“She went by herself?”
Amy chuckled. “No. She dragged her friend, Millie along. Millie’s husband died six months ago, and Grandma thought a change of scenery would do her some good. She tells me she is doing well on the road. I think it’s goo
d for Grandma too. She’s been stuck in the bookstore for twenty-five years. She needed a break, I think.”
“What about you? Are you going to go on a road trip in twenty-five years after running the bookstore?”
Amy nudged him. “That isn’t funny. I’m not going to spend my life stuck there. When my friend Emma gets here next week, I’m going to ask her to run the place with me. We just graduated together in business administration, and she has some really good ideas.”
“Is running the place what you want to do, or did your grandmother just sort of dump it in your lap?”
Amy stopped to admire a topiary tree cut in the shape of a “fighting Irish” mascot.
Hmm. Somebody is a big Notre Dame fan.
“She did pretty much dump it in my lap, but I have a big interest in books. But truthfully, I’d rather write them than read them. I’ve been writing ever since I can remember. And now that I have an immediate career, I’d like to put some effort into getting published.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “I do a little writing, too. What do you write?”
Amy squeezed his arm. “You first.”
Jake led her to the center of the garden to a two-tiered fountain, and offered her a seat on its edge. A light mist of fountain spray grazed her cheek as she sat. Jake took a seat so close to her, their thighs were touching. Amy held down the skirting of her dress in the breeze while Jake paused, looking as though he wanted to kiss her.
Amy leaned back. “I’m waiting.”
Jake cleared his throat nervously. “Oh yeah. I write poetry and short stories. I haven’t tried to turn any of my stories into books. I’m not sure I have the patience for that. Besides, even if I wanted to write, I’m part of the family business now that I’ve graduated. There isn’t much time left at the end of my day to spend writing.”
A Secret in the Attic (Mystery/Suspense/Romance) Page 2
