Chapter 15
fifteen
“I don’t get it.” Frustration marred Elisa’s face as she stared up at the bronze statue. The setting sun sent streaks of crimson and coral across the sky behind her. “We were so sure.”
Noah planted his hands on his hips as he followed her gaze to the statue’s carved expression, which stared blankly across the quiet library lawn. More like Elisa had been sure. He hadn’t been sure of much of anything from day one of this hunt, but he trusted her instincts. The way she put stuff together was brilliant.
He’d be intimidated if it didn’t bring him so much joy to watch her light up that way.
Right now, though, Elisa’s scowl was dark as she circled the statue for the tenth time, her hands running so thoroughly over the concrete Mr. Warren that she’d probably have blushed if she’d thought about it long enough. “Are we missing something?”
“Like what, a trap door?” Noah knocked against the stack of books Mr. Warren clutched to his side. “There’s nothing here.”
“What if it was here, but isn’t anymore?” Elisa’s eyes widened with horror. “What if the clue was found by someone else first? These cards had to be stashed months and months ago, right?”
“That, or maybe Grandpa arranged for August to plant them after he...you know. After.” Noah busied himself with a crack in one of the concrete book spines until the pressure in his throat eased. Man, that needed to stop happening.
Elisa stepped back, hooking her fingertips into her back pockets as she surveyed the library grounds, free of people now as closing time drew near. But the massive oak spreading shade across the yard, the bubbling fountain filled with wishing pennies, and the newly striped parking lot didn’t seem to offer any hints as to their next move.
She began ambling toward the fountain. “Maybe we got the wrong Warren. Maybe it’s specific to Joseph, after all—the guy who actually gave Paul Revere the command to ride.”
Noah followed, mimicking her movement and shoving his own hands in his pockets. “If there’s anything local around here about that particular Warren, you would know before I would.” A handful of change jingled under his fingertips, and he pulled free a penny. He smirked as he handed it to Elisa. “How desperate are you?”
“I don’t really believe in wishes.” She held the penny up, squinting at it in the setting sun. “But it’s fun, I guess.”
He watched her watching the fountain. “What do you believe in, then?”
“Prayer.” She rolled in her lower lip. “Though I admit, sometimes it feels almost as futile as wishing on a penny.”
“I’ve never heard a believer confess that before.” He thought it was just him. The urgency to find the next clue faded, replaced by an urgency to know more of Elisa’s thoughts on the matter.
She stepped closer to the flowing water, looking down at the coins cluttering the fountain’s concrete bottom. “I prayed hard for my mom when she got sick.” She rolled the penny between her fingers, her voice trailing to a near whisper. “It didn’t work.”
He knew what that was like. “I didn’t even know about my grandfather’s cancer returning until it was too late to pray.” Noah sat on the rim of the fountain, stretching his legs in front of him. “But when my parents divorced, I sure tried everything.”
Those weren’t nights he ever wanted back. Begging God to change his dad’s mind. To fix his parents’ marriage.
He stared at his crossed ankles. “But instead of witnessing a miracle, I only witnessed yelling matches, ones that sent me cowering to my closet. Witnessed my dad driving away. Mom’s mascara leaving permanent tracks on her cheeks.”
“I’m so sorry.” Elisa joined him on the edge of the fountain, still holding the penny. The warmth of her body radiated into his side despite the fact they weren’t touching. Comforting, like a summer memory.
She cast him a sidelong glance. “You never talked about your parents when we were…you know, when we…”
“ Dated ?” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “It’s not a dirty word.”
“Depends on who you ask. Sure feels like it these days.” A blush crept up Elisa’s cheeks, turning them irresistibly pink. She sobered. “Semantics aside—why didn’t you talk about it?”
That was easy. He let out a sigh. “I was eighteen and with you.”
She turned questioning eyes on him, her face close enough to bring back all sorts of teen angst.
He should put the brakes on this conversation, but the truth rolled off his lips. “That summer was perfect, Elisa.” He held her gaze. “The last thing I wanted to do was bring up my childhood drama.”
She licked her lips. “But it found us anyway.”
He nodded slowly. “I guess it did.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Then, with her gaze fixed on the piece of copper in her hands, she angled slightly toward him. “Do you think my mom getting sick, and your parents divorcing anyway, means God didn’t hear us?”
“No.” The word left his mouth before he could fully process it, and he paused. Did he mean that? “I guess I haven’t thought about it one way or the other.”
“But you don’t go to church anymore.” Her voice lilted, inviting more detail that he somehow didn’t mind giving.
Maybe it was the way the sunset created a stunning backdrop to the west, or the way the wind whispering through the oak leaves overhead protected their hushed tones, but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like hustling to the next item on his to-do list.
He felt like maybe he was supposed to be sitting right there, right then.
“I’m not mad at God, if that’s what you mean.” He lifted one shoulder. “I guess it’s more a keep-my-distance type thing. I catch myself assuming God is like my dad, which I don’t think is true. But then I’m not sure what to think, so I just…don’t.”
“I get that.” Then her eyes widened. “I mean, my dad is great and all. He just…didn’t handle losing Mom well, you know? He changed after that.” She sniffed. “Understandably.”
So she still made excuses for him. Not that Noah could blame her—he hadn’t seen his own father in person in years. Easy for him to say what he would or wouldn’t do if he ever did again. He wasn’t dealing with the guy day in and day out.
Maybe there was some grace to his absence, after all.
Elisa held up the penny and let it drop from one palm to the other. “I think God hears our prayers and cares. It’s just that things are often beyond our ability to understand this side of heaven.”
Ha. He twisted his neck to look at her. “That’s a church answer.”
“Some answers are cliché, but they can also be true.”
“I’ve heard plenty of those, trust me,” Noah scoffed as he stretched his legs out in front of him. “Then I realized the church wasn’t incredibly kind to divorced adults.”
She kept slowly tossing the penny from one hand to the other. “Your mom?”
“And my grandfather.” He pressed his lips tight, watching as a library worker exited the building and headed for the nearly vacant parking lot. “Let’s just say the D-word is frowned upon in religious circles—even when one party wasn’t at fault and wanted nothing to do with it.”
Like his mother. She’d filed for divorce from his father, understandably so after word of the affair became public. But Dad hadn’t tried to stop her, and their congregation at the time hadn’t rallied around any of them.
But now they were getting dangerously close to the details of that event, the same event that had indirectly ended his and Elisa’s perfect summer together. Were they really going to go there after all this time? He couldn’t decide if the idea was necessary or foolish.
Elisa’s hands stilled around the coin. “So you’re not mad at God. You’re mad at the church.”
That wasn’t where he thought she was taking the conversation.
He automatically started to deny the claim, then paused as her words rolled around his heart. “Maybe I am.” Finding Grandpa’s Bible had clearly stirred up old resentment he’d long left undisturbed.
Elisa’s expression sobered. “What went on at the church?”
He let out a slow breath. “The congregation didn’t exactly help my family out when Grandma and Grandpa split.” A fog of memory swept through his mind. “There were a lot of whispers and not-so-discreet pointing.”
Long dress hems and shuffling feet. Grandpa, head held high in his best suit. But he hadn’t lasted long, had he?
Noah felt the bittersweet smile coming before it grazed his lips. “After that, most of my childhood Sunday mornings consisted of store-bought donuts, pirate-watching from the roof, and cardboard surfing down the lobby stairs.” No more clip-on ties or Grandpa attempting to swipe Noah’s cowlick down with a wet finger. As a kid, he hadn’t minded in the least.
Now…he wondered what he’d missed. If he’d have had faith like Elisa’s if he’d kept going.
Elisa smiled back. “Your grandpa seemed fun.”
“He is.” Noah coughed against the knot that was back. “Was.”
“I guess things weren’t any better when your parents followed suit with their divorce.” She shifted on the edge of the fountain, tilting her head toward him.
“Yeah, and as you and everyone knows, that was for much more scandalous reasons. By then, people didn’t even bother to whisper.”
“That’s awful.”
“That’s why my mom moved us to north Louisiana so quickly.” Noah stood abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Isn’t church the place where people are supposed to be the most loving? The least judgmental?”
“I think so, but people disappoint.” Elisa shrugged as she looked up at him. “That was a long time ago, right? Pastor Todd wouldn’t have been there then.”
“No, he wasn’t. I’ve met him briefly through Owen, but I haven’t heard him preach yet.” Of course, he didn’t plan to take the time now, either. Not until the inn was up and running, mold-free. Which meant either finishing this treasure hunt or getting his loan—whichever happened first.
Still sitting in front of him, Elisa silently met his gaze and reached for his hand.
He hesitantly allowed her touch, watching as she turned his palm up and pressed his fingers out flat. Then she set the penny in the middle of his hand. “Maybe you should try again.”
He snorted, even as that familiar weight pressed behind his eyes and into his throat. He swallowed. “Prayer? Or church?”
She gently closed his fingers around the coin. “Why not both?”
* * *
Noah’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, and Elisa had the sudden thought to press a kiss against it.
She quickly released his hand and stood, putting a little distance between them along the fountain edge as the tree frogs began to sing their evening chorus. Noah had made it clear the other night at the inn that their near-kiss was a mistake. And hadn’t she all but agreed when talking with Delia at Chug a Mug? Two old friends connecting over shared trauma did not have to mean anything more.
Even if hearing Noah’s childhood hurt made her want to wrap her arms around him and hug him until the pain went away.
“What about you?” Noah kept his fist closed around the penny, avoiding her gaze—or maybe she was avoiding his—as he edged toward the water. His navy cap was pulled low, preventing her from seeing much of his expression. “Do you go to church regularly?”
She opened her mouth, then slowly closed it. This was her turn to reciprocate. She owed him that much. But opening up about her mom…about culinary school and Trey…about her dad…it would all create an emotional firestorm that he didn’t want to hear.
No one ever did. Except Delia.
“Of course I go to church.” She rolled her shoulders down and back and found her practiced smile. “Every Sunday, sugar. Third pew from the front.”
Noah eyed her, then the penny in his hand. Without any pomp or circumstance, he tossed it into the water. Then he closed the distance between them so fast, her breath hitched. “You’re not getting out of it that easily.”
“Out of what?” Bless it, but she sounded breathless. She tried to regulate her breathing instead of focusing on Noah’s warmth, on his proximity pressing the side of her leg into the fountain wall. She could ask him to step back, to give her room, and he would.
But she didn’t.
The scent of cedar and something else undeniably Noah wafted over her. His eyes searched hers, the beckoning twilight casting long shadows over his tanned arms. He reached up, and she thought he was going to touch her face again. Leaned into it, even, anticipating his touch.
But he didn’t.
He held up another penny. “Your turn.”
She snorted, half with relief and half with disappointment, as she plucked it from his fingers. He never did play by her rules. “Funny.”
He didn’t let go, though, only used their shared grip to tug her an inch closer. The somber expression on his face was anything but joking. “I get the feeling I haven’t been the only one hurt by people not doing what they should have done.”
She risked a glance into his eyes but didn’t trust herself to speak.
Compassion and regret mingled in his dark brown gaze. “In fact, I think I might have been one of those people.” He relinquished the penny, but didn’t step away.
Elisa looked down, shook her head a little as her heart thudded loud. The coin burned hot in her hand. “We were kids, Noah. It’s all in the past.”
“Is it?” He raised her chin with one finger, his gaze dipping from her eyes to her lips and back again.
Her own gaze sought a safe place to land as her pulse hummed. She should step away, should definitely not open this door. Hadn’t she opened it with Noah once before? And then again with Trey? This door should be dead-bolted and triple-locked by now.
Yet here she was, fingers on the door handle and ready to turn. She was going to kiss him, heaven help her. Wasn’t there a Bible verse about fleeing temptation? Not that kissing was wrong.
But kissing Noah Hebert would be very, very wrong.
She shifted her weight, though moving too much would send her into the fountain. Maybe dousing them both with cold water was the answer.
Move . But her body wasn’t listening to her brain, and she watched as if from a distance as the penny in her hand fell to the ground. Her fingers naturally curled into the sleeves of Noah’s shirt and dug in tight.
He drew another inch closer, bumping his ball cap higher up his forehead with one hand as his other one found her waist. He leaned toward her, slowly, as if waiting for full permission, or perhaps in disbelief she was giving it.
Last chance. She swallowed. This was happening.
Unless…
Her gaze registered on his navy cap. On the gold stitched logo of legal scales and a pelican that created a triangle for three words to sit inside.
She took Noah’s face in both hands, his permanent five-o’clock shadow rough under her palms. “Don’t move.”
“Um, okay…” His voice trailed off as she angled his head down for a better view of the tiny print above the bill. She squinted.
Union. Justice. Confidence.
“Your hat! That’s it.” Elisa stepped back, and Noah’s hand slipped from her waist, leaving an immediate chill in its stead. But that was okay. She was safe again—and had their next move figured out.
Temptation avoided.
Noah’s brow furrowed, and the heated look in his eye suggested he was still about three steps behind her. “What are you talking about?”
“Our next clue.” She pointed to his hat.
He tugged his cap off and stared at the front. Then understanding registered in his expression. “UJC.”
Elisa recited the end of the clue. “‘Search the books if you want to find the truth to end a fray.’” She grinned, triumph crowding out any remaining disappointment over the missed moment. Well, almost. “We went to the wrong kind of books.”
“We need legal books.” Noah nodded. “The courthouse.” Then he checked his watch with a frown. “They’re already closed.”
Drat. “And tomorrow’s Saturday.” Elisa groaned. “I hate to lose momentum when we’re this close.”
“I agree.” Noah shot her a hooded look, and heat flushed Elisa’s throat.
She coughed and he blessedly looked away as he dug in his pocket for his phone.
He wiggled his cell. “I have an idea.”
Elisa bent down and picked up the penny she’d dropped as he made a call and put his phone on speaker. Soft ringtones mixed with the gurgling sounds of the fountain, and Elisa pretended to examine the raised head on the coin as she hid behind her short curtain of hair. That had been close—again. Too close.
Was she destined to be burned?
“Hey, man. Sup?” Cade’s voice suddenly echoed from the speaker.
“I need a favor.”
Cade laughed over the sound of the road noise coming from his end of the connection. “Doesn’t everyone these days.”
Noah shot Elisa a look. “Elisa’s here with me.”
Cade’s laugh broke off mid-chuckle. “Wow. I mean, hey, Elisa.”
“Hi.” Flustered, Elisa waved toward the phone, then awkwardly lowered her hand at Noah’s smirk. She stuck her tongue out at him.
He turned back to the phone. “Listen, we need to get into the courthouse.”
A blinker clicked. “It’s after hours.”
“I know.” Noah rolled in his lip.
“So?” Cade asked.
“ So we were hoping you could help us out.” Noah switched his grip on his cell, wiping his other hand down the leg of his jeans.
Elisa squinted at him. Was he nervous Cade wouldn’t help? Or was he reacting to their second near-kiss?
Her own palms could use a good swipe, but she wasn’t about to let him see that.
The road noise grew louder. Cade must be on the interstate. “You guys can’t wait until Monday?”
Elisa shook her head as Noah confirmed the sentiment. “It’s sort of an emergency. You know that treasure hunt I told you about? We’ve got to get the next clue—ASAP.”
Cade exhaled. “Man, I don’t know.”
“We were thinking since your dad’s the mayor and all…” Noah met Elisa’s gaze and winced, as if holding his breath. Brilliant move. It was Cade’s favorite line. But would it work?
They stared at the phone together. Silence ticked off several beats.
Then…
“Meet me there in twenty.”
Noah fist pumped the air. “See you soon, brother.” He slid his cell back into his pocket.
“Ready, Sherlock?”
“Ready, Watson.” Then she hesitated as Noah turned to head to the parking lot. “Hey, about—you know. Earlier.”
He turned back around to face her, walking backwards a few paces. “I know.” His expression was gentle, but the openness on his face that had been present during their conversation had fled. She’d locked him up with her hat interruption—which he was surely interpreting as rejection—and understandably so.
But the truth remained. “I can’t keep—we can’t…” Her words weren’t working, and her voice pitched. Be a good girl and calm down. She flexed her fingers and took a deep breath, bringing her tone under control. “I can’t keep inching so close to a fire and then wondering why my shoe is melting, you know?”
Noah snorted, a bit of light returning to his eyes despite a hint of disappointment. He took a step toward her, hands lifted in surrender. “I promise to protect your Nikes.” He glanced down at her feet and raised his eyebrows. “Pumas?”
She kicked out one foot. “Adidas, actually.”
“They’re safe with me.”
Elisa followed Noah to the parking lot, eyes lingering on his shirt stretched taut against his broad shoulders. She believed him—about her shoes, anyway.
Not so much her heart.