The House on Blackberry Hill (Jewell Cove 1)

“Of course. Oh, Tom, can’t you just imagine what it would have been like to come up here, with all that natural light, and paint or something?”

“You mean next to the servants?”

“Oh, right.” Her face fell at his reality check and he laughed.

“You’re getting carried away. It looks good on you.”

Damned if she didn’t blush.

“What about this room?” she asked, opening a door to her left. The room was windowless and completely, utterly dark. Tom stepped across the creaky floor and felt around the inside wall for a light switch. Nothing. He reached into his

pocket and took out a penlight, shining it into the room.

“Holy mother,” he breathed. A cord hung from the ceiling and he stepped inside and pulled it, illuminating a single bulb in the ceiling. “Would you look at this?”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Abby said behind him. “Tom, that’s a sea chest.”

“It’s … everything,” Tom said significantly. The room was piled with chests and boxes. Maybe not filled with actual treasure, but he knew there’d be some gems in here nonetheless. “Marian must have stored all her stuff in here. This is a gold mine, Abby.” He turned to her and grinned. “You wanted to learn about your family? I’m guessing a good part of it is in these boxes.”

“It’s a little scary. I mean … there’s so much. Maybe there will be things I don’t want to know, you know?”

“Every family has its skeletons,” he replied. He wondered what she’d say if he admitted his own family tree had not only a town founder but a real pirate on one of its branches. “None of those skeletons can hurt you now, Abby. Everyone’s gone.”

He wished he could take back the words as soon as they left his mouth. Her eyes were sad as they rested on his face.

“God, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think.” He tried to smile. “Of course they’re not all gone. You must have your family back in Canada.”

But she shook her head. “No, you’re quite right,” she replied softly. “I really am all alone. My parents and grandmother have been gone for a while now.” Her expression of enchantment at discovering the treasure trove had disappeared. Now she just looked lost.

Tom tried to imagine his life without family. Even with the discord between him and Josh, Tom didn’t know what he’d do without his brother or their parents, or his cousins, Jess and Sarah. Aunt Meggie mothered him like he was her own. No one should be completely alone.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, feeling like a fool and not knowing what else he could possibly say.

“Not your fault,” she replied. “My mom left us when I was little, but when my dad died of cancer, she got custody of me. We moved around a lot. I was in so many schools I never really settled anywhere, until I finally went to live with Gram when I was fifteen. When Gram went…” Her voice faded. “Well,” she said softly. “It is what it is.”

He hadn’t realized that she didn’t have anyone. But before he could scramble to come up with some suitable words, she shrugged off the heavy moment.

“Anyway, you’re right. This is a gold mine. Did you know that I also talked to Isabel Frost last night? She knew Edith and Elijah before the war. How old is that woman, anyway?”

“No one knows for sure. Methuselah old.”

Her light, lyrical laugh sent something wicked winding through his veins.

“I guessed over ninety. She’d have to be to remember Edith.”

“You’re right.”

“She’s sharp as a tack. I don’t have family anymore, but I do have history. That’s what this is.” She blinked, pausing for a moment as if deliberating. “When I first got here I didn’t want to know about Marian. I was too angry, you know? I told myself I didn’t care about someone who clearly hadn’t cared about me.”

“What changed?” he asked.

A ghost of a smile tipped her lips. “I started to realize it might not have been all her fault. I’d like to know why my gram ended up so separated from the rest of her family. I’d like to find out all I can before I go, you know?” She swept out her hand. “And now this. It’s like finding treasure.”

She went forward and knelt before a solid cedar chest. He watched as she carefully lifted the lid and then peered inside.

“What’s in there?” he asked, unable to stop himself from being curious.

“It’s clothing,” she said, leaning forward. “Oh, my gosh, look at this.” She held up a long dress. The deep purple fabric shimmered in the light and even Tom, who was oblivious to this sort of thing, could see that it was beautifully crafted and impossibly old, the fringes hanging in layers. “It looks like it was from the twenties,” she continued. “Can’t you just see it? With one of those fashionable headbands over crimped hair, and loops of black pearls to go with it? Someone in the Foster family tree was a flapper, Tom!”