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.”
“Do 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.
Nonnie continued through several photos, stopping to identify the people when she could remember. A white envelope surfaced next.
The script on it looked familiar. Was that Lizzie’s handwriting? Molly leaned in.
Nonnie quickly turned the envelope over with the other photos.
Molly spotted another white envelope jutting out from the pile. Her fingers twitched.
Nonnie pulled out the envelope and put it facedown with the other.
It could’ve been anyone’s handwriting really. But it had sure looked like Lizzie’s. And if it was, why would Miss Nonnie keep the letters from them?
Molly’s heart ticked away. She looked at Adam, who was gazing back at her, a question in his eyes. He’d noticed it too, then.
“Oh my, just look at this one. It’s so romantic.” Nonnie held out a photo taken from behind Lizzie and Benjamin, who were kissing. They were sitting on a log facing Bluebell Lake. The sun had gone down behind the mountains, leaving swirls of pink and gold. Lizzie leaned into Benjamin, and he was cupping her face.
Molly warmed inside at the tenderness the photo had captured.
Nonnie sighed. “I remember taking this. It was quite late in the summer. They were so smitten with each other.”
“If summer was drawing to a close,” Adam said, “were they making plans to be together?”
“Oh, yes, they were talking about forever by the end of the summer.”
“Well, something must’ve gone terribly wrong,” Molly said.
Adam took a sip of tea. “I think we can infer from Lizzie’s letter that her folks didn’t approve of Benjamin—her father at least.”
“Yes, that sounds about right,” Nonnie said.
“Have you been able to remember where Benjamin worked?” he asked. “I haven’t been able to find much on him in Jasper, but maybe if his place of employment still exists, they might have record of him.”
“Oh, honey, I think that detail is long gone.”
“What about the military?” Molly asked, remembering the mention of it in the letter. “Do you remember him talking much about that?”
“I think it was just for the GI Bill. He didn’t have much in the way of material wealth.”
“Did he mention a particular branch of the military?” Adam asked.
“Not that I recall.”
“Did he mention what he might like to study at college?”
Nonnie shook her head. “I’m sorry. If he mentioned it, I surely don’t remember. And in all honesty, we were far more likely to talk about a bunch of nothing than we were to talk of things of substance. It was all fun and games that summer . . .”
Until it wasn’t.
Molly heard the unspoken ending of the sentence, and a glance at Adam confirmed that he had too.