Mabel held her hand over her chest. “Oh, my. This is terribly exciting.”
Penny studied the base. “I think we can remove the top layer of wood without damaging the rest of the drawer.”
Barbara rushed across the room. “Wait a minute. I’ll take a photo to document what we’re doing.”
“You’re right,” Mabel said. “I should video this for the community Facebook page. Everyone will want to know what we’ve found.”
Diana looked inside the drawer. “Whatever’s here won’t be very big. If there’s a compartment, it isn’t deep.”
“It could be a will or a passport,” Katie guessed. “Or maybe it’s money.”
Barbara frowned. “Did they even have passports when our great-grandparents were alive?”
“I don’t know,” her dad said. “But we’re about to find out.”
Standing over the top of the dresser, Barbara took at least a dozen photos. “That should do it. I’ll take some more when we see what’s inside.”
Diana looked at Wyatt. “You were the person who thought of a hidden compartment. You should be the one who sees what’s inside.”
Penny disappeared into the hallway and returned with a tool belt. “If you need a screwdriver, chisel, or hammer, I’ve got some here.”
Wyatt chose a narrow chisel. “It should be easy enough to wiggle it loose.”
Mabel leaned over his shoulder. “If my grandfather needed access to whatever’s inside the compartment, I don’t think he would have made it too difficult to open. Especially if he needed the information quickly.”
“Mom’s right,” Barbara said. “Is there a panel on the front that slides open?”
Wyatt turned the drawer around and felt along the front edge. “Nothing that I can find.” Holding the drawer to his ear, he gave it a good shake. “It doesn’t sound as though there’s anything inside.”
A disappointed sigh rippled around the room.
Penny sat on the edge of the chair. “Have you tried pushing the panel down? It doesn’t look as though the wood is very thick. It could bend enough to pry the edge open without damaging the drawer.”
Allan nodded. “Good idea. If I wanted to get something out of the drawer quickly, that would be my way of opening it.”
Wyatt placed the drawer on the floor and pushed against the top layer of wood. Penny and her dad were right. The wood was more flexible than he thought. The narrow chisel appeared over his shoulder.
“Use this to lift the side of the wood,” Diana said.
Holding his breath, he wiggled the chisel into place and gave it a gentle nudge. The thin wooden cover popped off the drawer.
Mabel gasped. “I can see something.”
He didn’t know whether it was his imagination but, everyone seemed to lean forward, straining to see the piece of paper sitting in the cavity.
He jumped when Penny leapt out of her chair. “Don’t touch anything until you’re wearing gloves!”
Diana hurried after her sister. “I moved the first aid kit to the cupboard under the sink.”
Within seconds, the two sisters returned to the room.
Penny thrust a pair of Latex gloves at him. “Be careful. The paper could be really fragile.”
Wyatt pulled on the gloves and carefully lifted the piece of paper out of the drawer. Luckily, it was only folded in half. The thick paper had yellowed with age, but the black ink was still visible. His eyes widened when he read the date. “Someone wrote the letter on November 16, 1863.”
“That was seventeen years before my grandfather was even born,” Mabel murmured. “Why would it be in the dresser?”
With a pounding heart, Wyatt re-read the first paragraph. It couldn’t be. He turned over the sheet of paper and gasped when he saw the signature.
“What is it?” Katie asked.
Wyatt’s hands shook so much that he had to put the letter down. “It’s a letter that was sent to Robert Todd Lincoln from his father.”
Penny frowned. “You can’t mean—”
Barbara gasped. “Abraham Lincoln?”
Mabel’s cell phone dropped to the floor.
Wyatt took a deep breath. “As well as a message to his son, it contains a handwritten copy of the Gettysburg Address.”
He moved out of the way so Penny could have a closer look.
Her shocked eyes lifted to his. “You’re right. After he asks how his son is doing, Abraham tells him what he’s going to say at the Soldiers’ National Cemetery in Gettysburg.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “It’s all here; ‘Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, upon this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.’”
She sat on the floor, looking as stunned as Wyatt. “It must be a fake. Why would our great-grandfather have this letter, let alone hide it in his dresser?”
Wyatt didn’t know, but he was determined to find out.
Chapter 14
An hour after Wyatt had gone home, Penny knocked on his front door.
When the door opened, she smiled and handed him his cell phone. “You left this beside the sofa.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She studied his face. For some reason, he didn’t look happy. “Is everything all right?”
“It’s fine. I…” Wyatt ran his hand around the back of his neck. “No, it’s not all right. Do you have time for a hot drink?”
“Sure. I was worried about interrupting you. I thought you might be painting.”
“I was, but I couldn’t concentrate.”
On the way through the living room, Penny saw some photo albums sitting on the table. Were they part of the reason he was so down? “Everyone’s excited about finding the letter. Dad rushed back to the general store to get one of the fireproof boxes they sell. He doesn’t want anything happening to the letter before we see if it’s real or not.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Something definitely wasn’t right. When Wyatt was having lunch with them, he was just as excited as they’d been. Now he sounded deflated, as if all the energy and enthusiasm the letter created had been sucked out of him.
She looked around the kitchen. Not for the first time, she was amazed by how pretty it was.
“Would you like coffee or a mug of hot chocolate?”
“Hot chocolate, please. Did you get hold of your parents?”
Wyatt nodded. “When I called earlier, they were at my brother’s house. They enjoyed the candy I sent them.”
Penny smiled as she sat on a kitchen stool. “Brooke makes the best chocolate I’ve ever tasted.”
She watched Wyatt move around the kitchen, waiting for what he wanted to talk about. If he was worried about them and their friendship, she wasn’t sure what she would do.
He placed a mug of hot chocolate in front of her. “Would you like something to eat?”
Penny shook her head. “I’m still full from lunch. Mom’s apple pie was delicious, but the extra scoop of ice cream I had was a little too much.”
He made himself a drink, then sat beside her. “I’m glad you came. I’m feeling a little depressed.”
“Why?”
“Today is the anniversary of the day we met. Having lunch with your family took my mind off everything. But when I came home, I felt more alone than ever.”
She wasn’t sure there was anything she could say to make Wyatt feel better. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Just having you here is enough.” He took a deep breath. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
Penny wrapped her hands around her mug. Wyatt looked so sad she wanted to give him a hug. But something told her to wait, to give him time to sort through what was worrying him.
“I don’t usually talk about Anya because”—he took a deep breath—“I feel guilty about how she died. It was my fault.”
“I don’t understand.”
“She died in a car accident. I was d
riving and we were arguing. I took my eyes off the road for a few seconds and didn’t see a car crossing the center line. By the time I saw the vehicle, it was too late. Anya died two hours later in the hospital.”
Penny reached out and held Wyatt’s hand. “I’m sorry.”
“I killed her. If I’d paid more attention to the road, it might never have happened.”
“It was an accident.”
He took a deep breath. “On most days, that’s what I tell myself. But on days like today, I don’t believe it.”
Penny thought about her grandma. They were all struggling in different ways with her death and trying to carry on as best they could. “Grief is never easy. It hits us at different times in the most unexpected ways. For me, it’s a reminder of how much I loved someone, not a burden to carry.”
Wyatt looked at their linked hands. “Before Anya died, I was a different person. My paintings sold for enormous amounts of money and people treated me differently. It went to my head. I thought I was better than everyone else, that I had some God-given talent that made me special. After my wife died, I realized how wrong I was.”
“Is that why you came here? To start again?”
He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “When Ethan suggested I stay for a few months, he sent me some photos of Sapphire Bay. Most of them were of the lake and Main Street. Then I saw the photos of this house and I knew I had to move. I thought coming here would give me a chance to think about my life and what I want to do.”
“And has it?”
“It’s made me appreciate who I am. I used to be self-centered and driven by how much money I made. I don’t want to be that person again.”
“Is that why you don’t talk about how much your paintings are worth?”
Wyatt nodded. “It’s also why I didn’t tell you my artist’s name. I wanted you to like me for who I am, not because I’m a well-known artist.”
“Well, you did that. I like you because you’re kind and honest and make great pasta sauce. And last but not least, you don’t mind Charlie’s doggy dribble.”
“If I’d known it would be that easy, I wouldn’t have stayed awake worrying about us.”
Penny squeezed his hands. “It means you care.”
“More than you probably realize,” Wyatt said gently. “Penny Marie Terry, would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”
Apart from being surprised by his question, she was impressed that he knew her full name. “How did you know my middle name?”
“Your mom told me just before she showed me your baby photos.”
Penny cringed. “Please don’t tell me she asked what your intentions are?”
Thankfully, he shook his head.
“But your dad did.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding?”
“Don’t worry. He was only doing what any dad would do.”
“Maybe when their daughter was sixteen or seventeen years old, but I’m well past that.”
“It doesn’t matter how old you are. You will always be your parents’ little girl.”
Penny sighed. “Talking about little girls, can I see the portrait of my grandma and great-grandmother?”
Leaning forward, he kissed her gently on the lips. “For you, anything. But before we see it, I’d like to know if you want to be my girlfriend.”
His smile made Penny grin. “I would be honored to be your girlfriend.”
Wyatt pulled her into his arms. “That’s the best thing that’s happened all day.”
“I thought that award would go to Mom’s apple pie.”
“It’s a close second, but don’t tell her.”
Penny whispered in his ear, “Your secret is safe with me.”
A few days later, Penny breathed a sigh of relief.
Diana looked up from the spreadsheet she was creating. “That sounds like it could be good news.”
“It is. The county has approved the building permit for the changes in the attic.”
“The plumbers will be thrilled.”
“I just hope they haven’t started another job while they’ve been waiting for us.” Getting the remodeling project this far had been hard work. Penny thought living in a small town would make the process quicker, but the opposite was true. The county was more relaxed than in a larger city, and no one seemed to worry if time frames had to be extended.
She pulled out her phone. “I’ll call the plumber now. Is there anything you need them to do while they’re here?”
“Hang on a minute. I’ll check the project plan.” Diana looked intently at her laptop screen. “Okay, let’s see. The plumbers have already finished in the kitchen and three of the bathrooms are ready to go. Apart from a leaky faucet in Katie’s bathroom and the work that needs to happen in the attic, we’re all right. When are the electricians arriving?”
Penny checked the time. “They should be here any minute. Have you talked to Katie about the draft menu you created?”
Diana nodded. “She liked my ideas, but wants to add a few more dishes. Don’t worry. It will all be within our budget and easy to prepare.”
“Thank goodness for that. It’s probably one of the few areas where we won’t have a budget overrun.”
“Do we have enough money to finish the attic?”
That had been on Penny’s mind for the last few days. The longer the county took to issue the building permit, the more unlikely they were to finish the attic to the level they wanted. “I think we’ll have enough money for most of the fixtures and fittings. But we might have to be careful about the furniture we need to buy. It might be better to look at pieces we could use from other parts of the house.”
Diana shrugged. “That’s okay. Grandma and Granddad had great taste in furniture and at least it will be in keeping with the age of the house.”
Penny admired Diana’s spirit. Nothing seemed to faze her. If there was an issue, she just got on and did what was necessary to make it go away. You couldn’t ask for a better person to work with.
“Have you heard from Wyatt?” Diana asked.
“He’s finishing his paintings, so I haven’t seen him for the last two days. But I have called him. He’s doing okay.”
“I’m glad. He has a big heart and I imagine it gets bruised easily.”
The front doorbell rang and Penny jumped to her feet. “That will be the electricians. I’ll be back soon.”
“There’s no hurry. I’ll be here for at least another hour. Just warn me if they need to turn off the power. I don’t want to lose what I’ve been doing.”
“Okay.” Penny hurried to the front door with the approved house plans clutched in her hands and a smile on her face.
Half an hour later, she wasn’t quite so cheerful. “Are you serious?”
The electrician looked her straight in the eye. “Totally serious. Rats have chewed through your cables. The good news is that, when we were working in the kitchen, it looked okay. But the attic and the bedrooms directly below need to be rewired.”
That wasn’t the news she was hoping to hear. “How much will it cost and how long will it take?”
“Let’s see.” The electrician took his cell phone out of his pocket and leaned over the house plans. Using far too many numbers, he added the square footage of each room together, then did some other calculation that Penny couldn’t figure out.
She bit her bottom lip. They’d already dipped into their contingency fund. If she couldn’t claw back some money from another area, they’d be in danger of having an unfinished house.
“I could do the attic and the three bedrooms for fifteen hundred dollars. My team will try to be as careful as possible. If we can drop the cables through from the ceiling it will reduce the amount of drywalling and re-plastering you’ll need to do.”
“If you can do that, I’d appreciate it. When can you start?”
“We’ll remove the cables today, then come back tomorrow to finish the job.”
There went her time li
ne for the plumbers.
“I’m sorry the news isn’t better.”
“It’s not your fault. I’ll order some rat and mice traps. The last thing I want is more chewed cables.”
“Good idea. If you need us to place them in the ceiling, let me know.” The electrician picked up his tool belt and walked back to his van.
While he was getting ready to start work, Penny called the plumber. At least they were only a couple of days behind in their schedule. It could have been a lot worse.
Wyatt opened another can of paint and gave it a good stir. So far this morning, twelve volunteers had arrived to paint the three garages. Outlining the design last week was making an enormous difference. Everyone knew what they were doing and, regardless of how much painting experience they had, they were enjoying themselves.
Penny walked toward him holding a clipboard. “Do you have a can of Sienna Gold paint?”
He looked at the cans on the ground and picked up the one she wanted. “I just need to give it a stir. How’s your team doing?”
“They’re making great progress. The outline makes it so easy. It’s almost like painting by numbers.”
“We used the same process for the last community project I worked on. It’s a lot easier when different people are painting on different days.”
“Hopefully, the same people come back tomorrow.” Penny tilted her head to the side, watching him intently. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better. Your phone calls have helped.”
Penny smiled. “I thought it was the muffins I left on your veranda that made a difference.”
“They definitely helped, too.” He gave the paint one more stir. “Have you heard anything from the Smithsonian?”
“Not yet. It could take a few weeks to find out if the letter is real.”
After they’d found the letter in the dresser, everything moved quickly. Penny had called Nick Costas, the gallery owner in Bozeman who was helping them discover more information about the blue enamel box. After sending him a scanned image of the letter, Nick had contacted a woman who worked at the Smithsonian Institute. The following day, she flew to Montana and took the letter back to Washington, D. C. for analysis.
The Lakeside Inn Page 14
