The House on Blackberry Hill (Jewell Cove 1)

He knelt and felt around the board. “I can tack it back into place. Nothing to lose sleep over.” He sounded genuinely puzzled.

“I don’t want you to tack it into place. I want you to rip it up.”

He stood and gaped at her. “What? Are you crazy?”

“I think there’s something underneath it.”

“Hopefully not rotted joists,” he grumbled.

“I was going to try to do it last night, but I knew that if I wrecked the board it would be wrecking the whole floor.”

“You’re damned right it would.” He frowned. “What makes you think that there’s something underneath there?”

She already felt ridiculous for mentioning the whole “house is haunted” thing. If she told him about last night he’d think she was completely out to lunch. She shrugged. “Just a hunch.”

“You’re willing to chance wrecking this flooring on a hunch? I could never replace it, Abby. Not and have it match. You do understand that, right? If I wreck this one board, it means replacing the whole floor.”

She looked up at him and nodded. “Which is why I didn’t go looking for a pry bar last night. Will you do it? It won’t get ruined if you do it.”

He shook his head. “You are the strangest woman I’ve ever met.”

“I know.” It wasn’t the first time she’d been called odd. She’d spent a good part of her childhood with her head in a book or in the clouds. Oddball came with the territory.

“If I say no, you’re going to do it when I’m not here,

aren’t you?”

She smiled. “Probably. And then you’ll be sorry.”

He sighed heavily. “All right then. Let me get some things. Why don’t you…” His gaze ran down the loose material of her nightshirt, which she suddenly realized was quite thin. “Get dressed.”

He disappeared out the door and down the stairs. Hurriedly she dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a T-shirt and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and pull a hair band into her hair. By the time he came back up, she was coming out of the bedroom looking perfectly tidy. The way she should have looked when he’d first arrived.

She waited while Tom used a small pry bar and claw hammer to lift the board, working it a bit at a time to keep from cracking the old wood. Impatient, Abby shifted her weight from side to side, trying to peer into the gap. Finally Tom lifted the other end and the nails let go with a squeak. “All in one piece,” he said, relief in his voice. “And you were right.” He looked up, amazement marking his features. “There’s something in there.”

It was too crazy. Abby knelt beside Tom and watched as he set the plank to one side. A small box was nestled in the gap. Carefully Abby reached in and removed it, kneeling on the bare floor, ignoring how hard the wood felt on her kneecaps.

She lifted the lid on the box.

“Oh, Tom.” The first item was a smaller version of the picture that was downstairs on the mantel. Edith and a baby. She turned it over and could still make out the slightly smudged ink on the back. “Edith and Iris. Tom, it’s my grandmother.” She touched the picture reverently. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? And look at all that blond hair.”

Tom knelt beside her. “What else is in there?”

Abby reached in and took out a lock of fine, pale hair, tied with a thread at each end. “Do you suppose it’s Iris’s?”

“It could be.” He lifted a watch out of the box. “This is very nice.”

“It’s a man’s watch. Elijah’s, do you think?” Tom turned it over but there were no markings on it.

He shrugged. “It must be. But why would this stuff all be under the floor?”

Because Edith had wanted to keep it hidden. Abby knew that, but she didn’t know why.

At the bottom of the box was a small packet of letters. Aware of the fragile paper, Abby unfolded the first one cautiously. “This one is dated 1943. That was when Elijah was in the Navy.” Excitement ran through her words. Had she just found love letters from Elijah to his wife at home? “Listen to this.”

She read the letter aloud.

My dearest Edith,