Molly was working the front desk Monday evening when Adam returned to the inn. All but one couple had checked out yesterday, but they had another couple joining them tomorrow, celebrating their anniversary. Frankly, the quiet was a nice reprieve after the chaotic weekend. And they were gearing up for another full weekend.
“Hello, Molly.” Adam smiled at her as he pushed the door closed. His messenger bag hung from his shoulder, and he cradled two large books in his arms.
“Hi.” Molly beamed back, her gaze sweeping over the books. “Dare I hope you’ve come bearing yearbooks?”
“One from the year Lizzie graduated and one from her sophomore year. They didn’t have the others.”
“Yes!” Molly lifted her hand, palm out, and Adam met it with a high five. “Have you looked through them yet?”
“Only long enough to find her class pictures. I thought we could pore over them when you’re off work.” He ducked his head. “If you’d like, that is.”
“I’d like that very much. I’m supposed to be on for another hour, but Levi owes me one. Meet you in the library?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Molly called in her favor with Levi, and he took over at the front desk with only a minor scowl.
“Thank you, brother dear,” she called as she fairly bounced toward the library.
Adam was sitting at the desk going through one of the yearbooks when she joined him. He’d pulled up a second chair.
Molly settled into it. “Find anything yet?”
He chuckled. “I’m only on page four.”
What a lovely laugh. Deep and mellow, rumbling from his chest.
He opened the yearbook to the middle. “Here’s her sophomore picture.”
Molly leaned in, her arm brushing his. She caught a faint whiff of spicy cologne. Nice.
The picture portrayed a younger version of the Lizzie in the newspaper.
Adam opened her yearbook to a page he’d flagged with a yellow sticky note. “And here’s her senior photo.”
“She was so pretty.” Molly stared at the image. “Kind of reminds me of that actress in Enchanted.”
“I guess I missed that one.”
“She’s so young. Only about Grace’s age here.” Molly didn’t even want to think about her little sister losing her heart to someone at her age, much less having it broken.
“So you go through that one,” Adam said. “Look for any names you recognize. I’ll see if I can find more photos of her.”
Thinking of the index, Molly flipped to the back to see if she could find Lizzie’s name and any pages she might be included on.
“I already tried that,” Adam said. “I guess they didn’t do indexes back then.”
Molly started with the senior class, jotting down familiar names. By the time she was finished there were seven people she recognized as still living in Bluebell.
She started at the beginning of the yearbook and scanned each photo and caption. So far Adam had found photos of Lizzie in the glee club and National Honor Society, and Molly found her in both groups in her senior year also.
“Look at these glasses.” Molly smiled at the cat-eye style one young lady wore.
Adam’s eyes twinkled with laughter. “Far out.”
“And this beehive.”
“The boys wore slacks and button-ups every day.”
“And the girls wore dresses and skirts. They all look so grown up and well behaved.”
“I’m sure they got into their fair share of mischief. Lizzie didn’t seem to play any sports. At least, not her sophomore year.”
“I’m not finding anything her senior year either. But there didn’t seem to be many options for girls. Just tennis and softball.”
Molly turned the page to find pictures from the senior dance. At the bottom of the page a familiar face made her pause. She read the caption. Friends Elizabeth Van Buren and Nonnie Ludwig take a break from dancing. The two beautiful girls stood side by side, their arms around each other, their heads tilted close together.
“Look at this.” Molly scooted the yearbook closer to Adam, pointing at the photo.
“There she is,” Adam said. “Who’s that with her?”
“Nonnie Ludwig, it says. There’s a Nonnie Hartwell who lives in Bluebell; she goes to my church. That must be her. I mean, how many Nonnies could there be?”
He studied the picture. “They look close. As if they were good friends.”
“They sure do.”
He looked up from the book, his blue eyes piercing hers. “How well do you know Nonnie Hartwell?”
Molly’s heart was thumping wildly in her chest. A big grin split her face. “Well enough to show up at her doorstep on a Monday evening.”
“What are we waiting for?”
* * *
Nonnie Hartwell lived outside of town on the winding mountain pass leading toward Asheville. Her white clapboard house perched on a small rise. The yard was well maintained, though the house was sorely in need of a fresh coat of paint.
Adam got out of his rental and followed Molly up the porch steps. She’d been full of chatter on the short drive from town. Her face flushed with excitement, she was knocking on the door before he reached her side.
A moment later the door opened, and the older woman’s face lit with a smile. “Molly! How nice to see you, dear.”
“Hey, Miss Nonnie. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m just fine.” The woman pulled open the door, revealing a full-figured body draped in a floral housecoat. Her thinning silver hair was short and curled, and her brown eyes twinkled with life. “Come in, come in.”
As Molly embraced her warmly, Nonnie caught sight of Adam. “Well, who’s your gentleman friend?”
“This is Adam. He’s a guest at the inn. Adam, this is my friend, Miss Nonnie.”
Adam shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“A guest, huh?” Miss Nonnie gave him the once-over, and he must’ve passed muster, because she invited him in. “I just made a fresh pitcher of tea. Come sit a spell.”
A few minutes later they were settled in Nonnie’s small living room. The evening light filtered through filmy curtains, softening the wrinkles on her face. She was somewhere in her seventies, and Adam hoped her memory was still intact.
Molly made small talk with Nonnie, asking after her grown children and grandchildren by name. She had such a warm way with people, putting them immediately at ease and making them feel important. He wondered if she knew what a gift that was.
After Nonnie inquired about the inn and Molly’s siblings the woman got to the point. “So what brings you by, honey?”
“Well . . .” Molly looked at Adam for the first time since they’d sat down, then she turned back to Nonnie. “I was wondering if you could tell me anything about a girl you went to school with—Lizzie Van Buren.”
Nonnie’s sparse eyebrows shot upward. “Well, there’s a name I haven’t heard in a month of Sundays. We were best friends back in the day, you know. She was my partner in crime.” Nonnie laughed, her eyes staring off into the distance as if remembering her friend fondly.
“Sounds like you have some wonderful memories of her.”
“Oh, I do. I surely do. Now, where on earth did you hear about Lizzie? And how did you know we were friends? She’s been gone for years—before you were even born, I’m sure.”
“We saw a picture of you together in your senior yearbook.”
Then Molly told her the whole story, starting at the beginning. About finding the love letter behind the wall, about discovering Lizzie had passed, and about their search to find Benjamin and give him closure.
The woman’s face went from wistful to sad as Molly shared the story.
Adam’s stomach filled with lead as he realized she might have bad news for them. If Benjamin was already deceased, the search was over. There would be no closure at all—for any of them.
“I’m sorry,” Molly said. “I should’ve thought to bring the letter with me.”
Nonnie waved the words away. “Oh, I know all about that letter, honey. Lizzie fretted over it for months after she sent it. So that’s what happened to it. How tragic. How very, very tragic.”
“She never heard from Benjamin again, after he left Bluebell?”
Nonnie shook her head. “Never did. Surprised me too. That boy was madly in love with her.”
“Do you know what happened to him?” Adam asked, speaking up for the first time.
“I know he went off to war. When she didn’t hear back from him, Lizzie went after him—much to her folks’ dismay. But he was already gone.”
“She must’ve been devastated,” Molly said.
“Oh, she was. Hard enough having a fella at war, but to have been so thoroughly rejected and not know how he was faring or how he even felt about her. It was hard.”
“And after the war?” Adam asked.
Nonnie gave a rueful smile. “Lizzie moved on best she could. She still hoped to hear from him, but she went on to college—nursing school.”
“Did she fall in love again?” Molly asked. “Get married, have children?”
“Eventually she met a nice young man and settled down. But . . . I’m afraid she wasn’t able to have children.”
“That’s too bad,” Molly said.
“We kept in contact over the years, but she never did come back to Bluebell. Her folks owned the market in town, but it burned down in the late sixties. Instead of rebuilding they decided to move closer to Lizzie.”
“It sounds as if she got over Benjamin, eventually.” There was a hopeful note in Molly’s voice. “Like she went on to have a good life.”
“She did the best she could under the circumstances.” Nonnie got a faraway look in her eyes. “Sometimes that’s just all we can do.”
“But what happened? If they were so in love, why did he leave like that?”
“I don’t know the whole story—and it was all so long ago. By the end of that summer, they were so in love. Then there was some kind of big blowup. I don’t remember exactly what happened or what all was said, but Lizzie was a wreck afterward. And Ben left town—the very next day, I recall. Lizzie was beside herself with regret. She was a very smart girl, but she was impulsive. I’m sure she said things she didn’t mean.”
“That was the gist of her letter,” Molly said. “She was trying to make it right. But he never got the letter.” Her eyes went glassy.
It was all Adam could do not to take her hand. He dug his nails into his palms. “That’s why we’re trying to find him. We want him to know she regretted her words and ultimately wanted to be with him. I know a lot of time has gone by, and it might not even matter to him. But we feel he has the right to know what happened.”
“Well,” Nonnie said, looking between the two of them. “That’s surely a noble endeavor. But Lizzie turned over every stone trying to find him back then. I don’t know how in the world you’d go about finding him all these years later, if he’s even still alive.”
“We have the internet today, though,” Molly said. “We just need more information about him.”
Nonnie’s head tipped back. “And you were hoping I might have that information.”
“His middle name or birth date would be particularly helpful,” Adam said. “But anything you remember might be important.”
“Oh, honey. My memory’s still pretty sharp, but that was a long time ago. If I ever knew those things, they’re long gone by now.”
Molly’s shoulders sank, but she gave Nonnie an encouraging smile. “Is there anything else you might remember? The letter was addressed to a town in Tennessee.”
“That sounds about right.” Nonnie’s forehead wrinkled as she appeared to search her memory banks. “All the things I remember about him seem so inconsequential. He was here in town with a friend. I can’t even recall the boy’s name. Ben was a blue-collar worker, I believe. I can’t remember exactly what he did. I’m sorry, honey. I’m no help at all.”
Molly patted Nonnie’s hand. “It’s all right. Maybe something will come to you later.”
Adam was touched by her desire to comfort the woman when she must be so disappointed herself.
“I’ll give it some thought. Maybe go through some of my old boxes and see if I can find anything that jogs this old brain of mine.”
“Thank you,” Molly said. “That would be very helpful.”