“Looks like,” she agreed.
Just for a moment, his face was so close to hers that she thought he was about to kiss her. They stared at each other for a heartbeat, and the moment was gone.
Dan cleared his throat, and his grip on her waist eased. “So,” he said. “Shall we leave the dance floor to the guests?”
“Good idea.”
Dan walked her back to where he’d found her, and they were both surprised to find Grace sitting there watching them, a slight smile on her lips. “The band is quite good, don’t you agree?” she said.
“Very good.” Jamie took a step away from Dan, and he dropped his hand. “Well, thanks for letting me crash the party.” She turned to Grace. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Grace nodded. “Bright and early.”
Jamie smiled a goodbye to Dan and went to the door. He followed and pushed it open for her. “Good night,” he said. “Thanks for the dance.”
“You’re welcome.” She walked across the foyer and into the main lobby, knowing that his eyes followed her every step of the way. Something had changed between them, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She tried pushing him from her mind, telling herself that the last thing she needed right now was a distraction of any kind, particularly the kind that Dan could be. But when she fell asleep later that night, she dreamed of dancing on a cloud with a man whose eyes were almost as blue as her own, and arms strong enough to catch her if she fell.
Chapter 10
DAN stood at the railing that wrapped around the crow’s nest, his private sanctuary at the very top of the inn, and watched the moon spread pale light across the bay. It was a perfect night, a perfectly beautiful and romantic night, and yet here he stood alone, an unopened bottle of beer in his hand from MadMac, the craft brewery owned by his brother-in-law Clay Madison and Clay’s partner, Wade MacGregor. He was thinking about Jamie and how good it had felt to hold her while they danced. But something about her was off. She was hiding something, and the last thing he needed in his life was another woman who kept secrets.
He couldn’t figure out why his mother, who was normally so astute about such things, didn’t seem to see it at all. Why, she and Jamie were as chummy as could be. Not only were they suddenly BFFs, Jamie was working with Grace on that pet project of hers. So what exactly was making Dan suspicious?
For starters, who in her right mind would volunteer to spend hours going through dusty old newspapers if she wasn’t hoping to find something, some bit of information that would lead . . . where?
Then there was that business of her pretending not to know anything about the historical society when he knew for a fact that she’d been there. Why do that?
And what was she looking for in old high school yearbooks? Four of them, Hunter had said. The kid was goofy, but he wasn’t blind, and he could read.
It all added up to her looking for something—or someone—in St. Dennis. So her story about finding St. Dennis randomly and thinking it looked like a nice place for a vacation, or whatever it was she claimed, clearly was a crock.
If he were to be honest with himself, he’d admit it was eating at him that he liked her in spite of it all.
As for tonight, he couldn’t explain the way he’d felt when he held her, or that urge to kiss her. Lucky he backed away when he did. Who knew where that could have led?
And then there was his mother, sitting there with that enigmatic smile on her face, the smile he’d seen many times before. That look that said she knew things other mere mortals didn’t.
So why was she so blind to the fact that Jamie was, if not actually up to something, hiding something? Unless, of course, Grace wasn’t blind at all. Unless Grace, too, was hiding something.
He tucked the bottle under his arm and headed for the deck chair overlooking the inn’s grounds, where he’d drink a beer or two and try to forget what it had felt like to look into those electric blue eyes and to hold that perfect body in his arms.
JAMIE ARRIVED AT Grace’s office minutes after Grace.
“Lovely wedding last night,” Grace said.
“It was. The room looked beautiful.”
“Lucy has always loved parties with themes. I suppose that’s what makes her so good at what she does.” Grace took a sip of tea from her mug. “So. Let’s get started, shall we?” She opened the first of the boxes with a flourish. “I think we should keep an eye on the social columns from now on.”
Jamie stared at Grace. Had she been reading Jamie’s mind?
“I think we’ll find some interesting tidbits in these issues,” Grace went on.
“Oh?”
“My parents were married during this time, and all of my siblings and I were born in the forties. I’m sure there are announcements of all those events.” She opened the box. “Not that I believe the boxes contain all the issues between those years. It would be too much to ask that someone was that well organized, ever. I know my father was not.” Grace handed Jamie a stack of papers. “The social pages used to be ten through twelve, depending on how much news there was that week. Let me know if you find anything interesting.”
“Hi, Gram.” Diana peered around the doorjamb. “Hi, Jamie.”
“Well, good morning, sunshine.” Grace positively beamed at the sight of her only granddaughter. “What brings you down here so early?”
“I heard Dad get up, then you, then D.J. got up, so I thought maybe I should get up, too. Dad said you guys were working on a project.” She boosted herself up to sit on the long table. “What are you guys doing?”
“We’re going through old issues of the newspaper, trying to put them in chronological order,” Grace told her.
“Why?”
“For one thing, they should be in order, at least by year, because the issues go back a long way. And once they’re in order by date, you can see everything that happened in St. Dennis over the past hundred and some years, just by looking at the Gazette.”
“Everything, Gram?” Diana teased.
“Everything that mattered to the people who lived here.”
Diana pulled a folded paper from the open box. “Let’s see. This one is from . . . 1956.” She glanced through it. “Oh, the interview is with Miss Berry.” Diana told Jamie, “She was a famous movie star. I knew about her because she’s Dallas’s aunt, and Dallas is Paige’s stepmom, and ’cause Gram knows her.” She held up the paper. “Look, Gram, how pretty she was.”
“Oh, I remember how pretty she was. St. Dennis was very proud of her,” Grace said.
Diana passed Jamie the paper. “Beryl Townsend was her movie-star name. Everyone in St. Dennis calls her Miss Berry or Miz Eberle.”
“I’ve seen some of her films,” Jamie told them. “She was quite the comedic actress in her day.”
“I believe Berry prefers to think of herself as a great dramatic actor,” Grace said. “Though you are right, of course. She could do it all.”
“What else?” Diana dove into another box. “1993.” She read through the first few pages. “Nothing really interesting . . . Oh, is this Uncle Cliff?” She held up a picture for Grace, then turned it so Jamie could see.
“Yes, it is. My older brother,” Grace told Jamie. “He built boats—skipjacks—in an old building that used to stand where the new boat shop is. Cliff passed away a few years ago.” She smiled. “He was quite the character. Never married, but he was real good to all the nephews and nieces. Took my sister Carol’s boy under his wing when she and her husband died in that car crash.” Grace shook her head, obviously saddened by the memory.
“Let’s see what else we can find.” Diana’s enthusiasm was growing.
“Somewhere in those newspapers, you’ll find my birth announcement, as well as those of all my siblings. Wedding announcements, graduations . . . Our family history played out in that newspaper.” Grace added, �
�And the histories of every other family in town.”
Jamie had the feeling Grace was speaking directly to her. But how would she know that Jamie was looking for family milestones of her own?
Eventually, they were successful in finding not only Grace’s birth announcement and those of her siblings but her parents’ wedding photos as well.
“Oh my, Mother was so young here.” Grace’s smile was touched with nostalgia. “And so pretty.”
“Let me see,” Jamie said. She and Diana both looked over Grace’s shoulder.
“She was beautiful, Gram. Aunt Lucy looks like her.”
“She does. Everyone always said so.” Grace sighed. “I imagine if we go back far enough, we’ll find my grandparents in one of those papers as well. How about you put aside any issues that have photos in the social columns? It might be fun to have an exhibit someday. Old St. Dennis brides, maybe.” She looked dreamily into space for a moment. “Maybe we could frame them and show them at the gallery . . . Or Sophie might want them to display.”
“Sophie?” Jamie asked.
“Sophie Enright. She owns Blossoms,” Diana said.
“The restaurant on River Road?”
“That’s right,” Grace told her.
“I had lunch there the other day.”
“Sophie’s relatively new in town, though her family has been here for a very long time. You might have seen the family law firm in your travels. It’s over near the square. Enright and Enright, there’s a big sign out front,” Grace continued.
Jamie nodded. “I think I may have seen it.”
“Sophie’s grandfather is Curtis Enright, who donated their family home for the new art gallery. Remember, Jamie, we drove past there and I pointed it out?”
“I do, yes. It’s a beautiful property.”
“The Enright place was the only true mansion ever built in St. Dennis.” Grace paused as if something had just occurred to her. “Oh, Jamie, there’s going to be an exhibit at the gallery tonight. Why not plan on going? Everyone in town will be there.”
“I think I might do that. Thank you for letting me know.” As if it just occurred to her, she added, “Now that I think about it, my dad went to law school with a Curtis Enright. I’m pretty sure he was from Maryland.”
“I’m sure it must be the same person. Fancy that,” Grace said. “I will have to make sure you meet him at the gallery.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Her heart pounding at the thought of meeting the man who held the key to her quest, Jamie turned her attention back to the stack of papers and went directly to page ten. “Oh, look. Here’s a picture of someone named Elizabeth Sommerville, whose engagement to Clark Westfield was being announced.”
“Oh, let me see.” Grace held out her hand for the paper. “That’s my Great Aunt Lizzie. Diana, come see.”
There was more of the same, engagement and wedding pictures of noted residents; the day was broken up only by the delivery of a delicious lunch that Grace ordered from the kitchen because she, Diana, and Jamie were far too absorbed in what they were doing to leave the office to eat.
“Look, Gram.” Diana held up an issue from 1990. “Here’s a picture of Grampa crabbing out on the bay.”
“Let me see that.” Grinning, Grace reached for the paper. “He really did love to go out there with his net, late afternoons. He’d crab until he filled up a bucket, then he’d come back in and hand over his catch to Mrs. Ewing—she was our cook back then—and she’d make the most delicious crab cakes.”
“I like to crab with a net, too,” Diana said. “And I’m pretty good at it.”
“Yes, you are, dear.” Grace passed the paper back to her granddaughter.
“Have you ever caught crabs with a net?” Diana asked Jamie.
“No. I thought crabs were caught in traps,” Jamie said.
“Only by commercial trappers. They use traps ’cause they want to catch a lot of crabs at one time. When you use a net, you catch one—maybe if you’re real lucky, two—at a time. It takes more skill.” Diana smiled at Jamie. “I’ll teach you sometime, if you want.”
“Well, crabbing wasn’t on my bucket list, but it sounds like fun, so sure. Thank you. I’m game,” Jamie said.
“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Grace told Jamie. “You’re here on vacation, and you’ve barely been outside. I think some time crabbing is just what you need. Put some color in your cheeks.”
“It’s supposed to rain in the morning, but maybe tomorrow afternoon, if you don’t have anything else planned,” Diana suggested.
“No plans at all, thanks.” Jamie turned her attention back to the stacks of papers. She firmly believed that while she didn’t know what she was looking for, she would know it when she saw it. Though she found some photos Grace enjoyed seeing, the subjects were all older than her birth mother would be.
She needed to get her hands on those boxes from the early 1960s, specifically 1962 and 1963, since she figured the woman she was looking for was born somewhere around that time. But they emptied the boxes Ford had brought over, and none of them was from the right time period. Perhaps in the next group, Jamie told herself. Sooner or later, those years had to turn up.
Diana made piles on the table by decade, the thought being that they could break those down by year as they added more issues.
“I think we should close up shop for today,” Grace told them at four. “The reception at the gallery begins at six, and I promised Carly we’d all be there.” She turned to Jamie. “Please plan to come for that. Just tell them at the door that you’re with our party, and you should have no trouble getting in. The regular gallery showing opens at seven, but Carly always plans a lovely VIP reception. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“I’m sure I will. I’ll see you there.”
Grace wheeled herself to the door, and Jamie waited while she locked the door behind them. To Diana, she said, “Are you going, too?”
“I have to work tonight at Scoop, so I’m going to miss it. But maybe you can stop by for ice cream after and tell me all about it.”
“I’ll do that. Grace, thank you again for telling me about the reception. I’ll definitely go,” Jamie said as they entered the lobby. Grace headed for the freight elevator—her only means of moving between floors—and Diana accompanied her.
“Thank you again for all your time today.” Grace turned in her chair as Jamie started up the steps. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate having help. I’m afraid, on my own, I’d never be able to get through all those newspapers. Who knows what important bit of news we might have missed?”
Jamie began taking the steps. Really, it was almost as if Grace knew.
AT 6:55, JAMIE was crossing the lobby when Dan stepped out of the dining room.
“Hey,” he called to her, and she slowed her pace so he could catch up. She’d been trying to avoid thinking about him after last night. So far today, she’d done pretty well. But now, with him walking toward her, so handsome in his light blue suit that matched his eyes, she felt her pulse quicken.
“Hi” was all she trusted herself to say.
“You look nice,” he told her.
“So do you.”
“Off for the evening?” They walked together through the lobby doors.
“The gallery reception,” she said. “Your mother invited me.”
“Me, too.” He paused at the railing. “So. Would you want to ride over with me? I mean, since we’re both going to the same place.”
“Oh. Okay. Thanks.”
“You can wait here and I’ll pick you up.” He looked down at her high-heeled sandals. “Might pick up a few stones in those shoes. Probably wouldn’t feel too good.”
“Thanks.” Jamie waited on the walkway near the back porch, occasionally stepping out of the way of the other guests coming and going. She’d been tryin
g to keep her nerves under control, knowing she would most likely meet Curtis Enright face-to-face, wondering what he would say to her when they were introduced. She’d even picked her clothes with him in mind, choosing the black mandarin-collared dress over the sundress she’d picked up at Bling, which showed more skin. She had considered wearing it with a shrug, but the weather was hot, so she thought the black dress would be more appropriate. It was one of her favorites, and judging by Dan’s reaction, it had been the right choice.
He pulled up to the walk, and she opened the car door and got in.
“Who are the artists being shown tonight, do you know?” she asked, to make conversation. “I meant to ask your mother, but I forgot.”
Dan shrugged. “I don’t know. Some local people. Carly just said, ‘I want you all to be there,’ so we’re all going.”
He fiddled absentmindedly with the radio until they were on Charles Street.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“What? No. Why?”
“Because you seem really distracted.”
“Sorry. Our best sous chef handed in her notice, and we have to replace her ASAP. We got a great response to the ads, and I was going over the résumés.”
“Isn’t that something the head chef would do?” she asked. “I mean, he has to work with everyone in the kitchen. Doesn’t he get to choose?”
“My inn, my responsibility,” he told her. “I’ll weed out those I don’t think would work, and we’ll bring in the ones who make the cut for an interview.”
“My, you really are hands-on, aren’t you?”
He glared at her across the console. “Like I said, my inn, my responsibility.”
They arrived at the gallery in minutes, but due to the heavy volume of cars parked along Old St. Mary’s Church Road, they had to drive several streets over to park.
“Looks like they drew a crowd,” she observed as they walked the two short blocks to the gallery.
“I’m sure local artists bring people in. I guess friends and relatives show up.”
“I wonder if any of them are really good.”
That Chesapeake Summer (Chesapeake Diaries Book 9) Page 16