She skirted Grace, heading back into the bedroom. It was suppertime and she was hungry. But she didn’t want to leave the room. She might run into Adam. It was too soon for that. She couldn’t look him in the eye right now. She plopped down on the end of her bed, considering her options. Send Grace for food. Pizza delivery, right to her door. Twizzlers in her purse.
Grace was still studying her from the threshold of the bathroom, frown lines notched between her brows. She crossed her arms over her chest and slowly drummed her fingers against her upper arm.
“All right, all right,” Molly blurted. “I kissed him.”
Grace gave her head a shake as if trying to keep up. “Jordan? You mean before he went back home?”
Molly winced. “No, Adam. I kissed Adam. Today, out on the boat. In the rain.”
Grace’s head tipped slowly back. “Oh, right, Adam . . . Jordan’s best friend.” She gave Molly a pointed look.
Molly slapped a hand over her eyes and fell back on the bed. “Ugh! What is wrong with me? An innkeeper shouldn’t go around kissing guests. Levi was right—but don’t you dare tell him I said so. Much less guests who are also best friends with the guy with whom the innkeeper went out and with whom she’s been communicating.”
“Would it kill you to just leave the preposition at the end of the sentence? I think you’re missing the important part here.”
“No, I think that about covers it.”
“Um, no it does not. How was it? How was the kiss?”
Molly groaned. “That’s the worst part of all. It was great. Amazing really.”
“Um . . . I’m confused.”
“He’s a guest. He’s Jordan’s best friend. He lives in New York.” And then there was that scary feeling she’d had just as she was losing herself in the kiss—the one that made her chest go all tight and twitchy.
“Jordan lives in New York too.”
“Jordan can live anywhere; he’s an—” Molly bit off the word just in time. “An agent. There’s no future with Adam. He probably didn’t even want the kiss at all. I made everything so awkward. Don’t ever make the first move. It ruins everything.”
“Wait, so did he kiss you back or what?”
“Well, yes, but what was he supposed to do? He probably felt sorry for me.”
Grace lifted a brow.
“I probably embarrassed the poor guy. I made him uncomfortable, and now I have to tiptoe around here trying to avoid him for the next six weeks.”
“What are you, twelve?”
“Hey. Who’s the big sister here?”
“I’m starting to wonder. Listen, I’m sure the awkwardness will pass in time. The next time or two you see him might be uncomfortable, but eventually this will be just a little blip on the radar.”
“You think?”
“Of course.”
Molly sat up on the bed, her shoulders slumped. She’d gone out with Adam’s friend, then turned around and kissed Adam, all within the same week.
“I’m a terrible person.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “You’re not a terrible person. Did it ever occur to you that maybe you’re just more interested in Adam than you are in Jordan? There’s no crime in that, you know. You said the kiss was great . . . Maybe you should see where it goes.”
Molly shook her head. Grace didn’t understand who Jordan was, and Molly couldn’t even tell her. This Adam thing was just . . . temporary insanity or something. And scary. Had she mentioned scary?
“You only had one date with Jordan,” Grace said.
“But we’ve been communicating, and I’ve promised him another date when he comes back.”
Sure, Molly was attracted to Adam—no denying it. But she’d spent more time with him. One date with Jordan wasn’t enough time to judge their chemistry. Texting and calls weren’t conducive to judging chemistry either. When he returned and she got to know him better, things would be different. She’d forget all about this silly little crush on Adam.
Grace patted her shoulder. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see. Before you know it you and Adam will be back to your cute little investigative ways, and you’ll have forgotten all about the kiss.”
The project. Molly gave a deep sigh. She’d forgotten all about the project. So much for avoiding Adam the next six weeks.
twenty-eight
Molly managed to steer clear of Adam as long as she could. Or maybe he was steering clear of her. But she was working the front desk on Saturday morning when she heard him coming down the stairs. It was impossible to circumvent an encounter since she was checking out the Booths, a middle-aged couple who were celebrating their thirtieth anniversary.
Molly bestowed a smile on the couple, über aware of Adam coming around the corner and stopping hesitantly.
“Did you get over to Stone Gap Bridge yesterday?” Molly asked the couple.
“Sure did,” Mr. Booth said. “Got some great pictures. It was amazing.”
“It was terrifying!” Mrs. Booth laughed. “I’m afraid of heights, did I mention that?”
Mr. Booth curled his arm around his wife’s waist. “You did great. She made it all the way across.”
“And then I would’ve paid a million bucks to avoid going back.”
Molly smiled. “I guess you figured out there is no other way back.”
“My legs were shaking so badly. I just about collapsed when I made it back across. But I have to admit the views were stunning.” She opened her phone to the photos and showed Molly.
The sunset views were beautiful. The rocky canyon reflected the pinks and purples of the sky. There were selfies of the couple on the middle of the bridge and photos of Mr. Booth taken by his wife from the safety of terra firma.
“These are great.”
“I’ve already posted all our pictures on Facebook, and I tagged your inn’s page.”
“Thank you. I’ll have to check them out.”
“We had a wonderful time in Bluebell,” Mrs. Booth said. “We’re already planning to come back for our thirty-fifth.”
“We’ll splurge on the suite next time,” Mr. Booth said.
“I’m so glad to hear it. We’d love to have you back.” Molly handed them their receipt along with a white pastry bag. “I knew you’d be in a hurry to catch your flight, so I had Miss Della bag up some muffins.”
“Oh, you’re such a doll,” Mrs. Booth said. “Thank you so much. You made us feel like family.”
“My pleasure. You have a safe trip back to Philly. Take care now, and give that little granddaughter an extra hug for me.”
The couple waved, then pulled their suitcases behind them and slipped out the front door.
And then there was nowhere to look but at Adam, whose hands were tucked into the back pockets of his khakis. His presence seemed large in the space.
“Good morning!” she said, overly bright. She took her smile down a notch or two.
“Morning.” His voice was morning gruff. He took a step closer, his eyes rising only as far as the counter. He obviously had something to say.
Please, God, not a reference to yesterday’s unfortunate debacle.
He stopped half a body length away. “Um, I hate to be a bother, but the air conditioning unit in my room isn’t functioning properly.”
“Oh, no. That’s not good.” Duh, Molly. “And it’s supposed to be a super hot one today. I’ll let Levi know, and we’ll get it taken care of as soon as possible. Will you be out today?”
“Yes, all day in fact. So whenever you can get to it is fine.”
“Okay, we’ll get it taken care of.” Already said that. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.” She couldn’t seem to stop sounding so professional.
“It’s fine.” He poked his glasses into place, his eyes flickering to hers for the briefest of seconds. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who was flustered. “It cooled off last night so I was comfortable enough.”
Ah, yes. Cooled off. Because of the storm. All the images, all the feelings from
yesterday’s interlude swept over her. Man, that kiss. Heat flooded into her face. She fiddled with the tourist pamphlets on the counter, straightening them like a maniac.
“Right. Yes. Well. It’s supposed to be hotter today.” Already said that too. “So we’ll get it fixed. Today. Levi, I mean. And if he can’t take care of it, we’ll find someone who can. Your room will be cool as a cucumber when you get back from, well, wherever it is you’re going. It’ll be great!”
He gave a nod, backing toward the door. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Great! Have a great day.” Could she say great one more time?
“You too, Molly.” He gave her a wistful smile, then slipped out the door.
At the final click of the door Molly collapsed on the counter and buried her head under her arms.
twenty-nine
Adam hunched forward over the library desk at the inn, scouring the website of the Bluebell Baptist Youth Camp Molly had pointed out on that fated boat ride more than two weeks ago. He hadn’t been able to get the camp out of his mind, and he recognized the quiet nudging for what it was.
He was always looking for ways to give back, for worthy ministries to support. Writing had been a lucrative career, yet he was a simple man. He wasn’t given to fancy sports cars, he didn’t need a mansion, and traveling alone wasn’t his idea of entertainment. The bottom line was, he had plenty saved up for a rainy day, and he was earning more money than he could possibly spend.
He liked what he saw on the camp’s website. There was a donation page, but the progress thermometer was in the freezing cold zone. The site contained pages of glowing endorsements from children, parents, and adults who remembered going to the camp as youth. He read up on the church that owned the place and the people who ran it. He was still feeling that inner nudging.
There were many things he appreciated about his anonymity other than just maintaining his privacy. He didn’t have to wonder whether or not people liked him only for his money. Also, he could donate his resources to whatever ministry he chose without having to question his own motives or having others question them.
He jotted down the camp’s phone number and closed out the page. He would schedule a meeting with the camp’s manager, assess their needs, and determine if this investment was a good fit.
He should be working right now, but ever since that kiss he’d struggled to focus. He’d only seen Molly in passing the past couple of weeks. She was always bright and professional, but there was a new awkwardness between them. She was back to her run-on sentences. Ordinarily he found the trait adorable, but not when it was a reminder of his disappointing kiss.
He longed to put things back to normal, but he had no idea how to accomplish such a feat.
Slogging through his work had been consuming so much of his time that he’d made no progress on finding Benjamin. His mom was making some headway, she’d said earlier this week. She hadn’t found an obituary yet, so that was encouraging. Maybe he could find some promising lead to put Molly and him back on familiar ground.
Behind him he heard someone clear a throat, and he turned to find the subject of his daydream standing on the threshold. Her hands were tucked into her shorts’ pockets, and she looked beautiful in a red top that brought out the color in her cheeks.
“Hello, Molly.”
“Hi . . . so, um, I ran into Nonnie at the market this morning.” She had that familiar light in her eyes.
“Oh yeah?”
“She found some pictures and things in her attic. She said we could come over anytime and she’d go through them with us.”
“That’s terrific. I’d love to.”
Molly seemed eager to accept Nonnie’s invitation. And yes, it was because of the project, not because of him, but tell that to his thumping heart.
“So . . . I’m off work the rest of the evening, and I’m off on Thursday too. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I mean, I know you’re trying to get your work done so . . .”
“I’d like to see this through, if that’s all right by you.” He applauded his direct response and felt a thrill of relief when she smiled.
“Great. I’d like that. I just didn’t want to impose on your time. You’ve already helped so much.”
“I’m not one to quit in the middle of a project. I spoke with my mom this week, and she said she’s making progress with finding Benjamin. But Nonnie might have information that expedites the search.”
Molly perked up. She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I can’t wait to see the pictures. I know we’ve already seen the two of them, but I just feel such a connection to them. I know that sounds crazy.”
“Not at all.” Adam tossed her a smile as he closed his laptop and stashed it in its case. “Let’s get right on it then.”
* * *
“I’m so glad you’re feeling better, Miss Nonnie,” Molly said as she sat on the living room floor at the woman’s feet. The goods were piled in a shoe box on the floral ottoman, and it was all Molly could do not to start rummaging through it.
“It was one of those awful summer colds. I thought it would never go away.” Nonnie wore another floral housecoat, but her silver hair was carefully styled, and a bit of makeup enhanced her features.
She patted the seat beside her, and Adam lowered himself onto the love seat on the other side of the ottoman, holding his glass of iced tea.
“Well, you’re looking much better,” Molly said. “I was worried about you.”
“It was that chicken soup of yours—simply magic!”
Molly laughed. “I’d settle for edible. Mama didn’t pass off her skills on me, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, hogwash. You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Nonnie grabbed the glasses dangling from a chain around her neck and perched them on the end of her nose. “Now, let’s see what we have here. This is where I keep my high school memorabilia. There’s probably all manner of things in here, but I know I must have some photos from that summer Lizzie met Benjamin.”
Nonnie pulled the box close, grabbed a stack of photos, and began looking through them. “I should’ve sorted these before you got here.”
“Take your time,” Adam said. “We’re in no hurry.”
Speak for yourself, Molly thought, her fingers drumming on her leg.
Nonnie sifted through the pictures and newspaper clippings, a pensive smile on her face. “Nothing here.” She grabbed the next stack.
Molly wished she could dive in herself, but she didn’t feel comfortable rooting through Miss Nonnie’s personal things without express permission.
“Oh! Here we go. Just look at the lot of us.” Nonnie handed Molly a photo of herself and Lizzie posing on the beach with two boys behind them, one of them Benjamin. They were all laughing.
“There’s Lizzie and Benjamin,” Molly said. “And that’s you, Miss Nonnie? You’re so beautiful.” She passed the photo to Adam.
“Who’s the guy behind you, Miss Nonnie?” Adam asked.
“That was Earl Foster. He was quite the scoundrel.” The wistful smile on her face belied her words.
“Was he your beau?” Molly asked.
“Oh, not really. We just toyed with each other. He was a real flirt, though, I’ll tell you that.”
“Do you remember this particular day?” Adam asked.
“Like it was yesterday. We’d gone swimming and were having a marvelous time. Lizzie got one of our friends to snap the photo. After we swam we took a picnic out to Summit Ridge in Earl’s new convertible—he was terribly spoiled.”
“All of you went?” Molly asked. “Lizzie and Benjamin too?”
“Oh, yes. If Lizzie wasn’t working at the market, those two were together. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. I remember Lizzie saying that from the moment she met him she felt like she’d always known him. I guess he must’ve felt the same, because they fell in love so quickly. Just seeing this photo, so many things are coming back to me.”
“D
o you remember any pertinent details about Benjamin that might help us find him?” Adam asked. “Did he have a birthday that summer?”
Nonnie started through another stack of photos, her hooded eyes narrowing in thought. “Not as I recall. Lizzie’s birthday was in July though. Her folks threw her an nineteenth birthday party that summer at Patty’s Place—a popular restaurant of the day.”
Nonnie’s fine brows puckered, something about the memory clearly bothering her. “There was some kind of tension going on that night. I don’t remember exactly why. I just remember Lizzie was a nervous Nellie the whole time.”
“Did it have to do with Benjamin?” Molly asked.
Nonnie slowly shook her head. “I can’t rightly recall. It was so long ago. I sure wish I could remember something important.”
Molly patted her knee. “You’re doing just fine.”
“Here’s another.” Nonnie smiled, gazing at the photo. “It’s just me and Lizzie, but I think Benjamin must’ve taken it.”
It was Lizzie and Nonnie at Stone Gap Bridge. They were posing in the middle of the bridge, and Lizzie was blowing a kiss to the camera.
Molly handed the photo to Adam. “It looks as though you had a wonderful summer.”
“Oh, we did. So much laughter. So young and carefree.” She sighed, a pensive look sweeping over her features. “We couldn’t have known . . .”
Molly’s gaze sharpened on Miss Nonnie. She seemed to be remembering something upsetting. “Couldn’t have known . . . ?”
Nonnie blinked, her expression clearing. She gave Molly a placid smile. “Known what, dear?”
“You said ‘we couldn’t have known’ and then you stopped.”
“Did I? Oh, this mind of mine. I just can’t seem to hold a thought anymore.”
Nonnie proceeded to flip through the photos. Molly traded a look with Adam. What had Nonnie been about to say? Had it meant anything, or was it just the meaningless rambling of an elderly woman?
He lifted a shoulder, and they peeked over Nonnie’s shoulders as she went through the next stack.
Lake Season Page 17