Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
J enna flung open the door when Nash arrived and tugged on his hand, pulling him inside. “You’ll never guess what I found out. I have so much to tell you.”
He chuckled. “Okay, tell me what you learned.”
“Milton was in love with Vera Whitmore.”
Nash’s brows shot up. “Whitmore? As in the Whitmores?”
“Yes, like Miss Eleanor.” She nodded vigorously. “And he wrote Vera a letter professing his love, but when his sister went to deliver it, she found Vera in the arms of another man. Some Lawrence guy.”
“Wow, that’s some story.”
Jenna continued, her words tumbling out in a rush. “From what I’ve gathered, Betsy, Milton, and Vera grew up together. They were the best of friends, inseparable since childhood. But as time passed, Milton’s feelings for Vera deepened into something more. He fell head over heels in love with her.”
“Milton and Vera?”
“Yes, exactly. But in the end, Milton only wanted Vera to be happy, even if it meant sacrificing his own heart. He never found the courage to tell her how much he truly cared for her. Instead, he agreed to deliver the letters from Lawrence, keeping their secret safe.”
“We have no idea who this Lawrence guy is?”
“None.”
“So we only know part of the story.” He scanned her face. “And do you want to dig around more and find out who he is?”
She paused, considering the question. The mystery of Lawrence’s identity tugged at her curiosity, but a deeper part of her knew that some secrets were meant to remain hidden. “No, I don’t think I do. Vera, Lawrence, and Milton must have had a good reason to keep this all a secret. I think we should do just like Milton did, and keep Vera’s secret.”
“You sure?” His blue eyes searched her face, as if looking for any hint of doubt.
“I am sure. Like Miss Eleanor said. Some things are just better kept buried in the past.”
“I’m good with keeping it a secret if you are.” He took her hands and squeezed them.
“I am. If I’ve learned nothing else from my investigative reporter career, it’s when to admit a story doesn’t need to be told. I think we should just let all three of these people rest in peace, secure in their secrets.” A sense of peace washed over her, knowing they were doing the right thing.
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Nash agreed, his voice soft and supportive. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. Jenna leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body and the steadiness of his presence.
She finally pulled back slightly and looked up at him. “Oh, and that dress we found was Betsy’s. There was a wedding photo in the journal too. She was wearing that dress.”
“So much history up in that old attic, isn’t there?” He paused and frowned. “So, do you think we should go and see Miss Eleanor? Tell her what we’ve found?”
“I was just thinking the same thing. It involves her family as much as yours. And I’ll give her the photo of her great-aunt. She should have that.”
Nash glanced at his watch. “If we hurry, we can catch Miss Eleanor when she’s out walking her dog, Winston. She walks him every afternoon. You can set your watch by it.”
“Great, let’s go.”
They hurried over to the street near Miss Eleanor’s house, and sure enough, at about four twenty Miss Eleanor appeared homeward bound with her cavalier pup, Winston, trotting at her side. They stood at the gate to her front walkway, waiting for her.
Miss Eleanor gave them both an appraising glance as she walked up to them. Winston wagged his tail in an enthusiastic greeting. Miss Eleanor’s expression remained neutral as she spoke. “I assume you want to see me?”
“We do, Miss Eleanor. Something we’d like to talk to you about.” Jenna bent down and petted the dog, who promptly licked her face, and she laughed as she stood back up.
“Well, you best come inside. No use keeping Winston out here in the heat any longer.” She bustled through the gate, her movements efficient and purposeful. Pausing, she turned back toward Jenna and Nash, an expectant look on her face. “You coming? I haven’t got all day, you know.”
Jenna followed Nash and Miss Eleanor into the stately house, taking in the meticulously decorated foyer with its polished hardwood floors and elegant wall sconces. As they stepped into the formal living room on the left, Jenna’s eyes were drawn to the large, gilded frames housing paintings of serene landscapes and the delicate floral print upholstery adorning the plush couches.
Sunlight struggled to penetrate the heavy drapes flanking the tall windows, casting the room in a soft, muted glow. A magnificent bookshelf dominated the far wall, its shelves lined with leather-bound volumes and family photographs.
“Come in. Sit. I’ll bring us some lemonade.” Her words were more a command than a request.
Miss Eleanor returned, carefully balancing a tray of three large glasses of lemonade, and handed each of them one. She settled herself on an armchair that practically shouted its history with its intricately carved fretwork on the armrest and embroidered seat.
Miss Eleanor took a sip of her lemonade, the ice clinking gently against the glass as she fixed her gaze on them. “Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”
Nash looked at Jenna. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she prepared to broach the delicate subject. “We wanted to talk to you about… Vera. Vera Whitmore.”
Miss Eleanor quickly hid her surprise, but not before Jenna caught the tiniest bit of fear in her eyes. “My great-aunt. What do you want to know? She left the island a long time ago and never returned.”
“The letters I found in my cottage. I believe they were Vera’s.”
Miss Eleanor let out a soft sigh. “I was afraid they were. She lived in your cottage for a while. She was in her twenties and early thirties, I’d guess. It was considered being a spinster if you were single at that age back then, you know.”
“I think the letters were from a man named Lawrence.”
Miss Eleanor gave her a hard stare. “You think that why?”
“It’s a pretty long story, but Milton Carlisle—Nash’s some-number-of-greats uncle—grew up with Vera. He and his twin sister, Betsy. They were all friends. And I guess Milton realized he had feelings for Vera.”
Miss Eleanor’s forehead crinkled. “He did?” She shook her head as one stray beam of sunlight managed to fight its way through the drapes and highlight her silvery hair. “Never heard that.”
“He did. But before Milton could tell Vera how he felt, Betsy found Vera with this Lawrence guy.”
The older woman raised an eyebrow. “She did?”
“She told Milton, but Milton said they should keep it a secret.”
The room fell silent as Miss Eleanor digested the information, absently tapping her fingers on the armrest of her chair. She finally looked over, her brow creased. “How did you find all this out?”
“I… I read it in Betsy’s journal.” Jenna blushed slightly, waiting for the stern reprimand she knew was coming.
But the older woman just paused and said, “I see.”
Recovering from her surprise, she rushed to explain, “I read it because we were hoping to find out what happened to everyone. They all feel so real to me now.” She dug in her tote, pulled out the photo, and held it out. “Anyway, I thought you’d like to have this photo of Vera, and who I assume is Lawrence.”
Miss Eleanor took it, her eyes carefully studying the photo. She ran a finger over the print before looking up. “I don’t have many photos of her. She left the island, and I was told my grandfather—Vera’s own brother—took down all the pictures of her.”
“Do you know why she left?” Jenna asked softly.
“No, I don’t. I’m sure she had her reasons. The same reasons she kept these letters a secret.” Eleanor looked up and stared at both of them with a hard look. “And what are you going to do with all this information?”
She looked at Nash, and he nodded. “We’re… we’re not going to do anything with it. Their story isn’t ours to tell.” She reached into her tote once more and took out the wooden box that had been hidden in the floorboards of her cottage. “And these are yours too. Vera’s letters.”
Eleanor took the box and set it on her lap, her fingers tracing the intricate design on the top. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Vera must have had her reason for keeping this a secret. I appreciate you respecting that.” The older woman looked out toward the window. “Some secrets are best kept hidden, aren’t they?”
Jenna was certain Miss Eleanor was talking more about herself than Vera. Eleanor finally looked up at them, coming out of her thoughts. “I appreciate you figuring out these were Vera’s and returning them to me. You’re quite the investigator.”
“Thank you. I’m just glad I could return them to you.”
Miss Eleanor smiled. “Now, would you like more lemonade?”
“We should go. I just wanted you to have the letters and the photo. To hear what we found out.” She and Nash stood. “Thank you for seeing us.”
Miss Eleanor rose. “Thank you for bringing these to me. And… for your discretion.” She walked them to the door. As they walked down the steps, Miss Eleanor called out, “Jenna?”
She turned around.
“Welcome to the island. And… you’re a great addition to our little community. If you ever need anything, just ask.” With that, the woman turned and slipped inside her house, the door closing softly behind her.
Nash nudged her gently with his elbow. “That’s a big compliment coming from Miss Eleanor. She’s not very free with them.”
“I’m just glad the letters and photo went back to where they belong.”
“And you’re okay with just letting this story die? Never finding out who Lawrence was or what happened to Vera?”
“Absolutely. Your uncle went to great lengths to protect Vera and her secrets. Secrets that involve your family and Miss Eleanor. Milton even lost his job because of it. I think it’s the least we can do to respect his wishes.”
He brushed a lock of hair away from her face, his fingers grazing her cheek. “You, Jenna, are a very kindhearted woman.”
A warmth spread through her at his words. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, trying to keep her voice light as her emotions raced wild.
His expression grew serious. “When I thought things were ruined between us, I… I just didn’t know what I was going to do. I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I do care about you. Very much.” He trailed a finger along her cheekbone, leaving a trail of tingling sensation. “How would you feel about me kissing you right now? Right out here on the street where anyone could see.”
Her heart fluttered. “I can’t see that it would be a problem.” She turned her face up to him in invitation.
He captured her lips in a tender, lingering kiss that made her forget the world around them. The sound of a car horn honking caused them to break apart, and Nash glanced up, a grin spreading across his face. “Pretty sure the whole town just found out about us. That was the Jenkins twins from over in Moonbeam Bay. They come here quite often. And they’re known for being the biggest spreaders of gossip in both towns—maybe in the whole state.”
“And how do you feel about everyone knowing about us?”
“I couldn’t be happier. I want to shout it out loud.”
“That would be fine with me.”
He opened his mouth wide, and she laughed, placing her hand over his mouth. “Maybe not right outside Miss Eleanor’s.”