Reflecting Love's Charms (Bellingwood Book 14)

by Diane Greenwood Muir

  Reflecting Love’s Charms

  DIANE GREENWOOD MUIR

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication / use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Cover Design Photography: Maxim M. Muir

  Copyright © 2016 Diane Greenwood Muir

  All rights reserved.

  CONTENTS

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  THANK YOU FOR READING!

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  Polly brushed tendrils of hair away from her sweaty face, the gloves she wore making that more difficult than it should be. This was going to require more coffee. Frustrated, she yanked the work glove off her right hand and pushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. Rebecca had told her to wear a bandanna, but in Polly's stubbornness, she'd pulled her hair back in an elastic tie. She hated that Rebecca was right.

  They'd been tearing up the yard at the Bell House for the last month. It was the only thing she really wanted to have ready for the Sesquicentennial Celebration at the end of July, so she was here every day. Henry had broken up this old cement floor over the weekend and today she was hauling chunks of it to the front. Her back ached, her arms ached, her legs ached. She was hot and sweaty and it wasn't even lunchtime yet.

  Polly looked up at the big house, still in awe that it was theirs. It was the last thing she'd ever thought they would do. She and Henry had assumed they would live in Sycamore House forever. But life was all about change and she was as ready for that as anyone.

  This house had better be worth it. She was putting more physical labor into its renovation than any of her other projects. When she purchased Sycamore House, she’d been young and naïve, with enough money to do the renovation. Thank goodness, Henry Sturtz had shown up when he did.

  Sycamore Inn’s restoration had been a joint project and Henry had managed most of it. Both of those renovations had become profit centers and were paying for themselves, but the Bell House was different. They were turning it into their home which meant that in her heart of hearts she wouldn't hire contractors to do work she could do herself.

  She did wish that Henry had taught her how to run his skid loader. Polly should have put on her best puppy dog face in order to convince him to let her borrow it. Instead, she was loading chunks of concrete into a wheelbarrow and dumping them in a pile where he could deal with them later. This stunk.

  Since she was whining, Polly walked away from the task and back to the breezeway for a break. She looked around, opened the thermos and tipped it into her mouth.

  Wandering into the front yard, Polly thought back to the first time she'd been here and scared herself to death. The yard had been a complete wreck; filled with fallen tree branches, tall grass and weeds. The bushes that lined the sidewalk had grown out of control into the yard. Someone had trimmed back the bushes enough on the front side so people weren't attacked by vines when they used the sidewalk, but otherwise it was a mess. Eliseo and Sam Gardner had brought those under control with a chainsaw and hedge clippers.

  The front of the house, however, was not under control. Henry had torn down the solarium and front porch. Both were dangerous. Rebecca complained mightily about the loss of the solarium, there was nothing to save. The back porch was in much worse condition and he’d removed it as well. They were trying to decide whether to replace it with a porch or a large deck. The porch would fit the style of the home, but Henry was angling for a more modern deck. She hadn't relented yet.

  The front porch had been replaced several times throughout the years and Polly looked forward to its next iteration. She and Henry had already designed it, using columns and a balustrade. He knew she wanted a balcony on the second floor, so he’d incorporated that into the design. Right now, though, the front of the house looked naked and ugly.

  Eliseo was bringing the front yard back to life. A beautiful oak and several walnut trees made a mess in the yard, but after all of these years, the oak was immense and gorgeous. One of the walnuts had needed to come down, but the others were still standing tall. There were a variety of trees all over the property, offering shade to most of it. Polly wanted to plant a sycamore or two and maybe a few fruit trees. That would come later.

  In one of the photographs Polly had seen of the original Bell House, several outbuildings stood behind what was presently the garage. When the buildings had fallen apart, the structures had been removed, but no one ever bothered with the floors. Once she was finished hauling off all of the concrete from those old floors, Eliseo had plans for another garden.

  Polly wasn't thrilled about that. She didn't want to take responsibility for plants and vegetables, but he and Sam insisted, telling her that she needed color in the back yard.

  She'd pointed at the arbor walkway on the other side of the house. There was plenty of color in all of that. Eliseo had only smiled and nodded. That worried her. It was going to take a great deal of care to bring it all back to its original beauty. She was just grateful he didn't mind a challenge.

  Polly took another long drink of coffee, re-capped the thermos and frowned as she looked at the mess behind the garage. The job wasn't going to finish itself, no matter how hard she wished. She scuffed her foot along the floor of the breezeway, took a deep breath, and went back to work.

  An hour later, she dumped a wheelbarrow load and stopped to brush hair out of her face again. Yeah, yeah, yeah. She'd bring a bandanna back this afternoon. Polly pushed the wheelbarrow back and took out her phone.

  "I'm hot and cranky," she texted to Henry.

  Polly slipped the phone into her back pocket and bent over to pick up another concrete chunk. She chuckled. Henry had broken these up pretty well. They weren't quite as heavy as the hay bales she'd lifted before Eliseo came to work for her, but they were wearing her out. Maybe she should ask to borrow the donkeys and a cart. That would be easier than hauling this stupid wheelbarrow around. When Eliseo and Jason pulled rocks out of the field behind Sycamore House, they used the horses.

  She was whining again.

  Picking up another chunk, Polly tossed it at the wheelbarrow and threw her hands into the air when she missed. No surprise, there. She had rotten aim, but this was frustrating. Polly stalked over to it, picked up the ch
unk, and flung it.

  Just as it hit the wheelbarrow, the ground shifted. Her brain couldn’t work fast enough to figure out what was happening and before she knew it, the earth beneath was falling away from her. Polly scrabbled for purchase, but things were moving too quickly. Dirt, grass, bits of concrete and dust collapsed as she threw her arms out trying to brace herself against whatever was happening.

  When she finally stopped moving, Polly looked up through a three-foot hole to the sky. The wheelbarrow was still where she'd left it and she had enough presence of mind to be thankful it hadn't followed her down. No telling what that would have done if it had hit her.

  Dust and dirt filled the air, making it difficult to see. Polly took a deep breath, shut her eyes, and flexed her muscles and joints, hoping that she hadn't hurt anything. Something was poking her in the shoulder, but she wasn't ready to turn around and look. She was still taking note of the rest of her body.

  First, the feet, ankles, knees and legs. Yes. Everything worked. She could move her hips and waist. Her arms and hands were fine. Carefully, Polly turned her neck. Everything was where it belonged.

  She opened her eyes and looked around, hoping she'd given the dust time enough to settle.

  The last thing Polly expected to see was a tunnel. She sat upright and then pulled up to her knees, trying to see down the dark hallway in front of her. Sunlight shone in about a foot, so Polly took out her phone, swiped the flashlight on and aimed it into the darkness. She saw nothing but walls, ceiling and floor. Her first instinct was to crawl in, but knew that was probably a bad idea. Henry would be furious. If she had her directions right, it led to the house. That was interesting.

  The tunnel itself was about three feet wide and maybe five feet tall. Whoever had done this had put some effort into their work. She'd fallen six or seven feet down into a room and now that she was thinking normally again, she stood and brushed herself off.

  Scattered around the perimeter of the room were metal pipes and rods, a huge tarnished vat and wooden shelves that had been pushed up against the walls, but were sagging and rotted.

  Polly thought it looked familiar, but she was still in enough shock that she couldn't make sense of what that was. She finally turned to see what had been poking her in the shoulder after she’d fallen.

  "Good heavens," she said out loud. "It figures. Who are you and what in the world are you doing in here?"

  There were enough bones in the pile to have been a person once upon a time. Using her flashlight, Polly identified the skull and pelvis bone. If it had been upright before she fell in, it wasn’t anymore. She didn’t want to make any assumption as to which bone had poked her. It was enough that she'd gotten that close. She laughed at the shows she'd seen where some poor hapless soul fell into a pile of bones and came face to face with the skull. Great screaming and flailing about ensued, leaving the person traumatized. Today, she was just glad she hadn’t hurt herself.

  Polly looked up only to realize she had no good way to get out.

  "Please have a signal," she muttered, swiping her phone open again. Then Polly realized she didn't know who to call first. Henry would come right away. He'd know how to shore up the ground so they could get in and out of the room safely. But the rotten side of her wanted to call Aaron first.

  Polly snapped a quick picture of the bones and sent it to Aaron, trying to hold back her wicked grin. This time she wasn't calling. He could make all the assumptions he wanted before he made the call himself. He’d do that soon, so instead of calling Henry, she sent him the same picture. It was a race to see who would react first.

  "Hello there," she said when her phone rang a split second later.

  "Where are you and why are you sending me pictures of bones?" Aaron asked.

  "I didn't go far," she said.

  "Back to my question. Where are you?"

  "I'm clearing out my house and since we’re going to live here someday, it’s my job to find old bones first."

  "You're at the old Springer place?"

  "We're calling it the Bell House now," she reminded him.

  "I don't have time for this. Is that where you are?"

  "Yes. And I'm stuck." A beep alerted her to another call coming in. "Henry's calling. Do I answer it or keep talking to you?" she asked.

  "Did you send him the same picture?"

  Polly laughed. "Of course."

  "He can wait."

  "I'll tell him you said so when he yells at me," she said.

  "Uh huh. So where did you find your latest?"

  "I fell into a hole."

  "In the ground?"

  Polly tried to come up with a witty retort, but couldn't, so she nodded. "Yeah. Behind the garage. And there's a tunnel that leads to the house."

  "You fell into a tunnel?"

  "No, I'm in a room. There's a tunnel at one end of the room. Or a walkway or something. But it's dark and I shouldn't go down it." As if he heard her say it, Henry beeped in again.

  "No you shouldn't," Aaron said. "That would be foolish. You don't know what's there."

  "Exactly. And by the way, I'm fine."

  "What?"

  "I told you that I fell into a hole. You didn't ask if I was okay."

  Aaron took a breath. "I'm sorry. You're right. I didn't. But in my defense, you sent me a picture of a pile of bones. I was a little distracted by that."

  "Are you going to come rescue me?"

  "Well," he started and then paused.

  "Well what? Someone has to help me get out of here," Polly said. "I'm in a hole in the ground."

  "Is the ground above you going to be a problem?"

  "I assume so. I fell in."

  "Call your husband back. Tell him what's going on. And after he gets over being upset, ask him to call me so that we can figure out how to get those bones out of there safely."

  "And me," Polly said. "You have to get me out of here safely, too. Right?"

  Aaron laughed. "If you've been good. Sending me a picture of a pile of bones before lunchtime on a Monday morning is not how I imagined this day going."

  Polly's phone beeped again. "Henry’s losing patience. I'll talk to you later. And thanks for all your concern."

  Aaron was still chuckling when she switched over to the other call.

  "What is that?" Henry demanded.

  "Bones. Obviously."

  "Where are you and why are you sending pictures of bones?"

  "I fell in a hole." Polly pulled the phone away as she chuckled. She was having fun with these guys. It was probably quite unseemly, but if finding dead bodies was her thing, she might as well just deal with it and move on.

  When she got back to the phone, Henry was saying something along the lines of "…call for help?"

  "I missed that," she said. "We must be breaking up."

  "Did you fall in a hole behind the garage?"

  "Yeah. It's a room, Henry. And there's a tunnel that looks like it leads back to the house. Do you want me to check it out?"

  "No!" he shouted. "Don't you dare."

  "If someone doesn't come get me out of this hole, it might be my only escape," Polly said.

  "You can't get out?"

  She looked around. "No. I can't. There's no way up. I'm going to need a ladder, but I'm worried about the ground above me being dangerous."

  "Okay." He went silent and she waited while he thought it through. Even from a distance, she could hear his wheels turning. "Okay. How far down are you?"

  "Six or seven feet."

  "You fell six or seven feet. Did you hurt anything?"

  "There's my good husband. Finally, someone asks me how I'm doing."

  "I'm sorry." The sound of chagrin in his voice made her feel guilty.

  "Don't worry. I'm fine. I probably bruised my butt, otherwise everything else is in good shape. So are you coming to rescue me?"

  "Yeah. I'm coming in from Ames, though. It's going to take time. Maybe Dad and Eliseo can come over."

  "I'd trust them," Po
lly said. "Aaron wants you to call him."

  "Why?"

  "If they're going to be down here collecting bones, he wants it to be safe. You and he should work this out."

  "This is ridiculous. What is that room?"

  "Let me send more pictures and I'll call you right back," Polly said.

  "Send the pictures and I'll call you back. I'm getting hold of Eliseo first," he replied. "I love you and I'm sorry that you're in a hole."

  "You should be. But Henry, I'm glad it was me and not you or anyone else."

  "That doesn't make me feel much better. Send pictures and I'll call in a few minutes."

  Polly took pictures of the other items in the room and sent them to Henry, then wandered over to the tunnel and stepped inside. She would have to crouch to walk through it. Who would have used this? She turned around again and walked the perimeter of the room, then stopped and looked at the wall behind the body. Was that another door?

  She pursed her lips and looked down at the bones and back at the wall. If she stepped on something and crushed it, that would be a problem. Her curiosity was just going to have to wait. But if there was another room back there, Eliseo wouldn't want to walk on that part of the yard either. She shuddered at the thought of kids and animals playing back here and falling through the ground. Hopefully these were the only rooms that had been dug out, but now she worried.

  "Who are you?" she asked the bones on the floor again. "What were you doing in here? How did you die?"

  The phone buzzing in her hand made Polly jump and she swiped it open. "You scared me."

  "Sorry. You weren't trying to go down that tunnel, were you?"

  She looked back at it guiltily and decided that Henry didn’t need to know how close she’d come. "No. I was talking to the bones."

  "As long as they didn't talk back. Polly, you’re going to be the death of me. How am I ever going to keep you safe?"

  "Did you see the pictures?"

  "Yeah. That's an old still."

  Polly thought for a moment and then realized what he said. "Of course. I've seen pictures of them. That's why I recognized it. Were they making whiskey down here?" she asked.