Smitten Book Club
Page 29
We’re thankful for our families, our backbones as we juggle life and career.
Thanks to you, our reader. None of this would’ve happened without you. It’s been a joy to dream up Smitten and its inhabitants together and a special privilege to share them with you!
Our biggest thank-you goes to God, who brought the four of us together in a bond of unbreakable friendship. We’re all so different, and yet one, in our love for Christ and for one another.
AN EXCERPT FROM SECRETLY SMITTEN
Wrapping paper lay strewn around the floor in a happy crumple of color. Tess Thomas handed her cousin one last gift and suppressed a smile. Nat would blush when she saw the filmy negligee Tess had bought. But Tess knew if anyone would look great in the gown, it was her cousin. It was something Tess would never purchase for herself. But then, what need would she have for a honeymoon gown anyway?
While Natalie began to rip paper with abandon, Tess glanced around the packed parlor of their grandmother’s old house. Their friends had all shown up for the bridal shower, and there wasn’t space for another chair. A few women even sat on the floor with their backs propped against the wall. That was what Tess loved about the small town of Smitten, Vermont. Neighbors were like family. And they’d all pulled together in amazing ways this past year as they worked to put Smitten on the map as a town based on tourism—a romantic destination, in fact. There were so many new businesses, including a big hotel that had taken over the old lumber mill.
Their great-aunt Violet bustled in with a tray of cookies and tea. “Tess, dear,” she whispered. “I’m not sure these gluten-free things are worth eating.”
The cookies were as lopsided as Violet’s red lipstick. The color of that lipstick had never changed over the years—it was the same orangey red that clashed pitifully with Violet’s dyed red hair.
Tess took the crumbliest cookie and took a bite. “They’re good, Aunt Violet. And Natalie will appreciate that you went to the trouble.”
Her aunt’s smile brightened. “I’m so glad, honey. You always were my favorite niece!” She winked dramatically.
Tess’s sister Clare took the tray. “Let me help you with that, Aunt Violet.” She circled the room with the tray in hand, and to their credit, most guests took a cookie.
Natalie took a break from the gifts to nibble on a cookie and glanced around. “Where’s Mia?”
“In the attic,” Grandma Rose said. “You girls always loved to play up there, remember?”
This three-story Victorian was special. Tess, her sisters, and their cousins had loved exploring the attic when they came to visit their grandmother and great-aunts. The grand old home’s welcome enveloped visitors the moment they stepped onto the polished walnut floors.
Tess turned toward the hall. “You stay here with your guests. I’ll check on her, Natalie.”
When Tess reached the bottom of the stairs, Natalie’s adopted daughter, Mia, was descending. The six-year-old had a purple boa around her neck and wore a red velvet dress, the hem trailing on the hardwood. She’d found some lipstick from somewhere—probably Violet’s, judging by the color—and her small white teeth gleamed behind the smear of orange.
Mia reached the bottom of the staircase and twirled. “Look at me, Tess!”
A wave of love swept over Tess. If only she could have a daughter like Mia someday. “Smashing,” she said in genuine admiration. “That’s an unusual necklace.” She leaned down to examine the tarnished metal and realized it held a pair of dog tags. “Where did you get it?”
Mia looked down at her feet and shuffled. “In the attic.”
“Was it in the trunk you were allowed to be in?”
“No.” Mia peeked up at her. She held up her arm to show a bracelet. “My bracelet fell off and went down a hole. I put my hand in to get it and found the necklace too.” Red stained Mia’s cheeks. “Should I put it back?”
Tess put her hand on Mia’s soft hair. “No, it’s fine, honey. I just wondered where you found it. I’ve never seen it before.”
Natalie appeared in the doorway from the parlor. “Is something wrong?” She glanced at her daughter.
“Not really. I was looking at something Mia found in the attic.”
A frown crouched between Natalie’s eyes. “Are those dog tags? What on earth . . . There haven’t been any soldiers in our family, have there, Tess?” She held out her hand. “Let me see them, Mia.”
Mia’s lower lip quivered, but she took off the dog tags and handed them over. “I didn’t hurt them.”
“It’s okay, sweetie. I’m sure you didn’t.” Natalie reached out a reassuring hand to embrace the girl. Lifting the tag to the light, she studied it. “David Hutchins.”
Tess’s grandmother spoke from behind them. “David Hutchins? Where did you hear that name?”
Tess turned to see the color leave her grandmother’s face. “On these dog tags Mia found upstairs in the attic.” Beyond Grandma Rose, she saw Aunt Violet turn pale and reach out to steady herself on the wall.
Grandma Rose grabbed the door frame. “With David’s name?”
For a moment Tess thought her grandmother might faint. She rushed to her side. “Grandma, are you all right?”
Her grandmother wetted her lips. “I’m fine. I’m just trying to understand this. David died in the Korean conflict. As far as I know, his dog tags were never recovered. Neither was his body.”
“See for yourself,” Natalie said, joining them, hand outstretched.
Grandma Rose clutched the dog tags, then held them to the light. “Mia, where did you find these?”
“In the attic.” Mia’s voice wobbled. “I’m sorry.”
Tess embraced her. “You’re not in trouble, honey. Grandma is just surprised they were there.” She stared at her grandmother, who was as pale as the white blouse she wore. “Who was David Hutchins?”
Her grandmother was staring at the dog tags. She blinked rapidly. “My fiancé.”
Natalie frowned. “I’m confused. What about Grandpa Martin?”
Grandma Rose bit her lip. “I loved him, of course, but he wasn’t my first love.” She hesitated. “First love is special.” Her face took on a dreamy expression. “He used to call me his Betty Boop.”
Though it hurt even to imagine her grandmother loving another man before her own grandfather, Tess loved a good mystery, and this smelled like the best kind. “If he died in the war, then how did these dog tags get in your attic?”
“I don’t know. It makes no sense.”
“Could the military have sent them back to you?” Natalie asked.
“They didn’t. I would have kept them close. They wouldn’t be in the attic.”
“You’re sure he died?” Tess asked.
“Of course. The army notified his parents. I was there when they told us of his death.” She looked down. “It was the darkest day of my life.”
Darker than the day Grandpa died? Tess studied her grandmother’s face but didn’t ask the question.
“Did he live here in Smitten?” Natalie asked.
Grandma Rose nodded. “Over on Green Valley Road. In that big house where Ryan Stevenson lives now.”
Tess’s pulse kicked at Ryan Stevenson’s name. The handsome widower was a Saturday morning patron at her bookstore. Not that he’d ever noticed her.
“David’s family moved away after his death.” Her grandmother’s voice broke, then she recovered her composure and managed a smile. “We’d better get back to our guests.”
Tess followed her to the parlor, but her brain was whirling. What did it all mean?
The story continues in Secretly Smitten.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Photo by Clik Chick Photography
RITA-finalist Colleen Coble is the author of several best-selling romantic suspense novels, including Tidewater Inn and the Mercy Falls, Lonestar, and Rock Harbor series.
Photo by Michael Hawk Photography
Kristin Billerbeck is a Christy Award finalist and two-ti
me winner of the American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year award. Her books include A Billion Reasons Why and What a Girl Wants.
Photo by Clik Chick Photography
Diann Hunt writes heartwarming stories with a rose-colored view of the world. The author of 25 books, many of them award winners, Diann lives in Indiana with her husband, Jim. Visit her website at diannhunt.com.
Photo by Amber Zimmerman
Denise Hunter is the best-selling author of many novels, including The Trouble with Cowboys and Barefoot Summer. She lives in Indiana with her husband, Kevin, and their three sons.