The blotches had faded but weren’t completely gone by Tuesday night when Tess rang the bell at Ryan’s house. She’d covered the rash with makeup, but her eyes were still puffy. She was a little drowsy from the antihistamine she’d taken, so she’d walked the three blocks to his house rather than taking the car.
“No tiara?” she asked when he opened the door. “I’m disappointed.”
He looked good dressed in jeans and a red polo that made his dark hair gleam. Men should not have dimples. The one in his left cheek flexed with his brilliant smile. It warmed her all the way to her toes. An aroma rich with garlic and spices was in the air when she stepped inside.
“I hope you like lasagna,” he said, closing the door behind her.
“Next to Mexican, it’s my favorite.” She touched Sophia’s soft hair. “Hi, honey. Did you have a good day at preschool?”
“I practiced my tumbling,” the little girl said. She took Tess’s hand. “I have an Aunt Isabelle. She’s going to come to dinner sometime.”
“I know you do. I didn’t realize she was back in town, though.”
The Morgan girls had been intimidating in school. Cheerleaders, class officers, teachers’ pets. Perfect faces, perfect figures, and rich enough to maximize their physical attributes. Tess always felt like a brown sparrow next to a bluebird when she was around either one of them. Candace at least had been kind. Isabelle enjoyed her status too much to care about anyone basking in her shadow.
Everyone in Smitten had wondered if Isabelle would eventually take Candace’s place. Ryan had dated Isabelle first, and scuttlebutt said Isabelle had never gotten over him. She still hadn’t married. Did she think enough time had gone by now? Tess told herself that it made no difference to her. She and Ryan were only friends. That was all it could ever be.
She tugged her top over her hips and let Sophia lead her to the kitchen. A big dish of lasagna was cooling on top of the stove. Romaine lettuce was on a cutting board with a large bowl of salad beside it. He’d even set the table with a red-and-white tablecloth. Real cloth napkins too. A vase held daisies.
“It looks like a restaurant,” she said.
“I helped,” Sophia said. “Daddy let me set the table.”
“You did a very good job.”
Her nose detected the scent of something sweet. “What’s for dessert? It smells divine.”
“It’s a surprise. Mostly because I’m not sure it will turn out.” His dimple flashed again.
“Anything I can do to help?”
“We’re about ready.” He deposited lasagna onto plates for them and handed them to her to transfer to the table. “You can put the salad on the table.”
She carried the bowl to the table, then slid into the chair he held out for her. “Thanks.” His solicitous behavior made her tongue-tied. There had to be some reason for the way he was acting. Was he about to tell her that the attic was now off limits?
The lasagna was good, and she buried her worry by eating every bite. Sophia’s chatter helped smooth the awkwardness that seemed to have sprung out of nowhere. Tess listened to the little girl prattle about her new ballet shoes and what she was learning.
“Your face looks like it’s healing,” Ryan said. “Or is that topic taboo?”
“Nothing is off limits,” she said. “I saw the doctor this morning. It was just an allergic reaction. It will be gone after a few days of taking the steroid pack.”
“You’re not limping either.”
“My ankle is fine.”
“You didn’t have to cover your rash with makeup. That’s one of the things I like about you, Tess. No pretense. You’re transparent.”
“I don’t like people staring.” She looked down at her hands, her appetite gone. The compliment felt slightly backhanded to her. Did he mean she had no femininity? She might be slightly overweight, but that didn’t mean she gave no thought to her appearance.
He cleared his throat. “Well, I guess we can go to the attic. Dessert needs to cool a bit, and it will make a nice break from the work in about an hour.” He flexed his fingers. “I hope you’re up to tackling that huge pile under the eaves.”
“I’m up to anything,” she said, trying to match his light tone. She wasn’t about to let him know his words had stung.
She followed him up the back stairs from the kitchen to the second floor. Going this way led down the hall past his bedroom, and she couldn’t resist a peek into his private space as they headed to the attic steps. It was more masculine than she’d expected. Had he redecorated after Candace died? She couldn’t imagine Candace living with a plain navy coverlet. There was only a picture of Sophia on the nightstand. The bureau was devoid of any decor. A few woodsy pictures were on the pale blue walls.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
Tess realized she hadn’t moved beyond the door to his room. “Of course, sorry. Lead on.”
Her face burned, but she smiled and followed him to the attic.
Sophia had found a box of old toys, and she played happily while Ryan pulled out boxes and carried them to an old table under the weak glow of the dangling lightbulb. One was a shoe box, and he peeked inside. “There are old pictures in here. They don’t seem to be of anyone in my family.”
“I love old pictures,” she said. “Why wouldn’t they take these with them?”
“Maybe they left in a hurry.”
“Maybe.” She scooped up a handful of photos and began to look at them. She flipped several over and read the inscriptions on the back. “These seem to belong to the Hutchins family. Here is a picture of David’s graduation.”
He took the yellowed photo and studied the group of fifteen boys and girls assembled in front of the old train station.
“He’s the third on the left in the back row,” she said. “Grandma is in the front row, first on the right. I recognize her from old pictures I’ve seen.”
“So they graduated together.”
“People never forget their childhood sweethearts.”
He wanted to ask Tess if she yearned after a lost love. Maybe that’s why she’d never married. There had to be some reason a woman like her was still single. She was the perfect package: beautiful, sweet-natured, caring, optimistic. He said nothing, though, not willing to go back to the unease that had developed since last night.
He dug back into the box and pulled out a handful of photos. The one on top was of a man in a uniform in front of the same train station downtown. The woman with him was Rose. They stood with their arms entwined and identical forced smiles. Their linked arms and body language told the real story. The parting would be painful for them both.
Wordlessly Ryan showed it to Tess, and her eyes welled with tears.
“War stinks,” she said. She put it on top of the school picture, then went back to sorting through pictures.
They found nothing more of interest for well over an hour. Ryan was conscious of everything about Tess—the way she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear when she was distracted, the little inhalations she made when she was studying the pictures, the way she crossed her legs, then uncrossed them. He was smitten with her and realized that he had been for a long time. Books weren’t the only reason he brought Sophia to the bookstore every week.
Though she seemed to have no interest in him, he was going to do all he could to change that.
“This is odd,” she said. “It’s a letter from David to his parents.” She handed it to him. “It’s dated January 19, 1952.”
“Why is that odd?”
“It’s two years after he was reported missing.”
“But it’s addressed here. The family would have been gone already.”
“And it’s never been opened.”
He stared at the yellowed envelope. “Should we open it? Is that even legal?”
She bit her lip. “Well, his parents are long dead. And it might help us get to the bottom of the puzzle.”
He didn’t like opening mail addressed to someone else, but in this case it seemed the only thing to do. The glue on the flap was only stuck in one place, and the paper separated easily. He pulled out the two sheets inside and began to read. Tess read over his shoulder.
“He’s letting them know he’s not dead. And they weren’t here to get the news! I wonder if he ever found them.”
“I sure hope so,” he said.
Her breath was sweet as she leaned closer. “Rose married Grandpa on December 16, 1951. So this news came a month after her marriage.”
He whistled. “That would have disrupted the honeymoon if she’d heard the news.”
“Plus she was pregnant. Mom was born nine months after the wedding.”
“He was on his way here to see his parents, not knowing they’d moved. And he asks about Rose. You think he got here and found out she was married?”
“Maybe. But that still doesn’t explain how the dog tags ended up in the attic. He had to have been in the house.”
“Or else his parents gave them to her.”
She shook her head. “No, she’d never seen them before Mia found them. And his parents had left already, so how could they?”
“Has your grandma said anything else about him?”
“Everyone has carefully avoided talking about the dog tags. No one wants to upset her. I bet she’s wondering about it, though.”
He grinned. “Your eyes are sparkling, and you’re totally engaged in this. You love a good mystery, don’t you?”
“Guilty as charged. You have to admit it’s intriguing.”
“Sure is. So what’s next?” he asked. “We know David survived the war and came back here.”
“We assume he came back here. But why didn’t Grandma see him? You would have thought in a town this small that if he’d been in town, someone would have told her, even if she didn’t see him personally. But all she knew was that he died in the war.”
“We could try to find someone in his family. Or he may even still be alive. How old is Rose?”
Tess’s forehead wrinkled as she thought. “Seventy-eight or seventy-nine. I lose track.”
“He’d be the same age. So it’s possible he’s still alive.”
Her gaze went dreamy. “Wouldn’t it be something if he was still alive and we reunited them?”
“He’s probably married too. His wife might still be alive.”
Her expression went to crestfallen. “Party pooper. I had a nice daydream going there.”
He wanted to hug her. She grew more enchanting to him every day. “Well, you never know. Any ideas how to find his family?”
“We could start with Facebook. Search there and other social network sites.”
He stared at her. “Honey, he’s nearly eighty. Do you honestly think he’s going to be on Facebook?”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Grandma has a page!”
“You’re kidding. I don’t even have one.”
“A situation I can quickly remedy,” she said, lifting one eyebrow.
“I can live without it.” He stood and picked up the box of pictures. “You want to take these home and go through them at your leisure? I don’t have any use for them. Your grandma might like to see them.”
“She probably would. But I’m not going to show them to her yet. She’ll know I’m investigating. We’re not telling her until we have it all figured out.”
He called Sophia and tucked the box under his arm. Now he needed to figure out how to keep Tess there for the rest of the evening.