Chapter Nineteen #4
“Wait,” Burke said. “Are you saying that your grandmother’s family was involved in another feud that went back at least two additional generations?”
“Possibly,” Jovi said. “But people either refused to talk about it or pretended that it never happened.”
Burke’s jaw drifted open. A few moments passed as they both stood there staring at each other. Her pulse sped. His broad frame and searching gaze distracted her. Made her wonder if things might’ve been different if they’d never started down this rabbit hole of missing recipes and family drama.
Before saying something she’d regret later, Jovi took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Who knows, maybe we’ll find more information about both. I, for one, am determined to search every nook and cranny until we find what we’re looking for.”
This scrapbook could change everything—confirm who truly owned the candy company, end the feud between their families, and let her leave town with a clear conscience. They had to find it.
“I’ll start moving these,” she said, pointing to a pile of cardboard cartons stacked in the middle of the room. “Burke, why don’t you pick a stack to move out of the way? I don’t want Izzy moving anything.”
Isabel reached for Jovi’s flashlight. “Hand over the light. I’ll be in charge of that.”
“That makes sense.” Burke gave Jovi a small smile before turning away to begin his search.
Jovi returned her attention to the boxes in front of her and began carefully lifting them one by one from the pile, clearing a path so she could move deeper into the space and find the footlocker. These boxes likely contained treasures to be sorted later. For now, they couldn’t get distracted.
She and Isabel and Burke worked in silence, carefully squeezing between rows of boxes and stepping around other long-neglected possessions. After nearly twenty minutes, Jovi stretched and massaged her aching back muscles. “Maybe we aren’t looking in the right place.”
“Where else would a footlocker be?” Isabel asked, then reached for her water bottle and took a long sip.
“Did your family have any other places they stored belongings?” Burke asked, stepping away from his stack of boxes as he surveyed the room.
“Most of Grammie’s valuables are at our parents’ house,” Isabel said.
“We’ve already looked there,” Jovi added, then carefully blew the dust off a hardcover edition of Little Women . Grammie loved that book. She must’ve read it half a dozen times.
“What if the footlocker is hidden?” Burke asked. “It’s not unheard of for people to use furniture to conceal things.”
“But where?” Jovi blew out an exasperated breath.
Isabel shot her a warning glance. “We’re trying to solve the problem, right? That means no suggestion is a bad one.”
“It’s worth considering,” she admitted, avoiding making eye contact with Burke.
After rearranging everything she and Burke had the strength to move, Jovi spotted something nestled between two larger boxes along the back wall. An olive metal footlocker stenciled with a single name— Montgomery —Grammie’s father’s last name.
“Found it!”
Her heart pounding, she squeezed between the tower of boxes, then sank to her knees.
She pried open the cold metal levers, flipped up the buckles, then opened the lid.
The hinges squeaked. She delicately sorted through memorabilia from her great-grandfather’s military service, stacks of old newspapers, and a few copies of Life magazine until she saw a scrapbook nestled on the bottom. “I think this is it.”
“Really?” Isabel squealed and quickly worked her way over to Jovi. Burke joined them.
Jovi pulled out the scrapbook and stared at it for a moment. Its black padded leather cover had cracked near the corners.
“You open it.” Jovi stood and handed the heavy book to her sister.
Isabel’s eyes grew wide. She cradled it like a rare treasure in her arms, then gingerly flipped open the cover. Jovi leaned in close. A lovely sepia-toned photo of Lois and Grammie tucked behind a piece of plastic filled the top half of the first page.
Jovi’s eyes blurred with tears. Page after page documented Lois and Grammie’s friendship, from elementary school until early adulthood. Newspaper clippings, grainy photos and postcards from trips they’d taken together filled the heavy book.
“This is incredible,” Isabel whispered.
Jovi swiped the back of her hand across her damp cheeks. “I feel like we just dug up a time capsule.”
“Are these where recipes might have been removed?” Isabel pointed to the empty rectangular spaces where the background of the page was slightly discolored, indicating something had been taken out.
Goose bumps shot down Jovi’s arms. Did the scrapbook hold the proof they needed to put this whole mess behind them?
Isabel set the book carefully on a stack of boxes, and Burke shone his flashlight down like a spotlight so they could all see better.
Burke carefully inspected the contents, his gaze moving from page to page. He gestured to a few more blank spots where something had been removed. “These could be where recipes were taken out as well.”
Jovi leaned in and examined the odd shape of one of the blank spots.
Isabel frowned. “It would be nice if we found more tangible information other than just speculating about what’s not here.”
The trio flipped through the rest of the scrapbook, eventually unearthing several handwritten recipes on loose sheets of paper tucked between pages. They also found a few old recipe cards and even some product labels.
“This may be helpful,” Burke said, pointing to a vintage black-and-white newspaper advertisement for a candy store in Evergreen. Underneath the logo was typed Proprietors: Lois Stevens and Carol Montgomery. The date written on the back in Grammie’s handwriting was May 7, 1961.
“They would’ve been about twenty or twenty-one years old,” Jovi said, quickly doing the math. “I’m glad we finally found proof that Grammie did, at one time, own a candy shop with her best friend. But this still doesn’t lead us to a salted caramel chew recipe.”
“Or keep our parents from selling the company,” Isabel said quietly.
And what did this mean for her and Burke? Because finding the scrapbook didn’t resolve the feud. Or excuse the fact that he’d put personal details about her in his novel. She still wasn’t over that, either.
* * *
Burke sat across from Isabel and Jovi at the kitchen table. They’d moved upstairs from the chilly crawl space for more light and warmth and so Isabel could sit down.
“Here, do you want to look through more pages?” Isabel slid the scrapbook across the table. “We’ve sort of been hogging it.”
“I’ll make some coffee,” Jovi said, pushing back her chair and scooting past Burke.
“Thanks.” He turned the overstuffed book slowly and stared at the pages in disbelief. After months of searching for the missing clues, they’d finally discovered the link between present and past.
The rift had been well-documented. Every page served as a testament to the long history of animosity and pain between the two families.
There were newspaper clippings, poems, letters and photos—all carefully arranged and labeled chronologically.
Carol Wright had tracked the story for decades and presented evidence of all the devastating details.
A handful of photos of Carol and Lois at community events showcased their reputation in Evergreen as the go-to source for delicious confections.
Carol had included photos, letters and even a pressed flower that illustrated her teenage affection for Mac.
But when he and Lois fell in love and he chose her instead of Carol, the women’s friendship had obviously imploded.
Mac and Lois’s marriage must’ve destroyed any hope of reconciliation.
Burke shook his head. The shock of their discovery still hadn’t worn off.
“I need a minute.” Isabel blew her nose with a tissue. “Some of that is hard to read.”
Walker had been right after all.
Poor Carol. He swallowed hard. She must’ve been so hurt and angry.
A full page in the scrapbook cataloged her heartbreak.
She claimed she gave Lois all her original recipes back as a wedding gift, which didn’t go over well.
Evidently, Lois interpreted the so-called gift as a spiteful gesture.
Carol wrote that Lois kept the recipes, but only after confronting Carol the night before Lois married Mac and telling her to “grow up and move on.”
Ouch. Burke grimaced. Not the kindest advice to offer someone after you’d swiped their man.
After all, the recipes represented so much more than ingredients in sweet confections.
They’d been the foundation of a cherished friendship.
A friendship that was ruined when his uncle somehow fell in love with his aunt instead.
Burke glanced up and found Jovi staring at him from the other side of the kitchen, where she stood adding coffee grounds and water to the coffee maker.
He stood and retrieved the bag he’d brought in with him. “So this is wild speculation, but I’m guessing the recipes I found in the dollhouse are the ones referenced here in the prewedding spat?”
Jovi’s expression tightened. Then she shrugged. “Maybe.”
Isabel sat across from him, her feet propped up on a kitchen chair.
She looked from Burke to Jovi and back to Burke.
Something undecipherable flashed in her eyes.
“I think you’re right. And my theory is that Grammie took Lois’s hot tip to heart and rebuilt her business without her ex–best friend.
Remember the photo of her and Grandpa at the ribbon cutting on opening day?
No Lois. Our grandfather became her partner in life and in the candy company. ”
“Oh.” Jovi released a soft sigh. “It sounds so romantic when you put it like that.”
Warmth flushed Burke’s neck. Just hearing her say the word romantic brought back memories of their Valentine’s Day kiss. He looked away.
“At first, each page is like a tribute to their beautiful friendship, but tinged with sadness,” Isabel said, reaching for her water.
“So it’s sort of romantic. But I also feel like Grammie got her own version of revenge because I’m willing to bet she worked from memory to recreate some of Lois’s concoctions and then sold them.
Since Mac and Lois didn’t live here anymore, no one challenged her. ”
Burke shifted in his chair. He’d formulated a similar theory. Thankfully, Isabel verbalized it so he didn’t have to and risk more dark looks from Jovi.
Burke cleared his throat. “I found Mac and Lois’s wedding photo and an announcement stored in the shed. They married in 1963. I don’t know when they left Evergreen, but Mac served in Vietnam, because I found pictures about that too.”
“May I see one of the recipes, please? Let’s check if it lines up with those blank spaces we saw earlier.”
“Good idea.” He carefully removed the stack of recipes from the plastic bag and handed them over. Jovi’s gaze warmed his skin, but he didn’t allow himself to make eye contact. Although part of him wanted to gauge her reaction.
Isabel flipped through a few more pages. “It doesn’t look like there are too many more pictures of Grammie and Lois together after 1962, so that lines up with what you’ve shared, Burke. Maybe they did part ways when Mac and Lois fell in love.”
She turned back to the front of the book, found the page she’d mentioned, then aligned a recipe card over an empty space. She glanced at her sister then at Burke. “It fits.”
Burke nodded. “Sure does.”
“Grammie must’ve been crushed when Lois and Mac fell for each other.
I don’t like the idea of anyone swiping recipes that aren’t theirs, but I can empathize with her situation.
” Jovi poured coffee into two mugs then brought them to the table.
“It’s hard to imagine Grammie loving anyone other than Grandpa, yet it’s obvious by the pictures and captions she wrote that she cared deeply for Mac. ”
“That’s what I don’t fully understand.” A pained expression crossed Isabel’s face. “If Lois got what she wanted and married Mac, why didn’t she let Grammie have the recipes? Surely, she knew that her best friend had once loved her soon-to-be husband. It’s too bad they couldn’t work something out.”
Burke sat quietly, listening to their conversation as Isabel slid the scrapbook back to him. He flipped through the last pages. Except for the final two that were stubbornly adhered together.
“I’ll have to ask one of my craftier friends if there’s a way to separate those without causing damage,” Isabel said.
Burke nodded. “Good plan.”
The scrapbook might’ve confirmed what Walker had told them, but he still had to cope with the harsh reality that it had done nothing to heal the heartache between him and Jovi. He gently closed the scrapbook. Regret washed over him.
“I’d like for you both to read this letter.” He fished it from the bag. “It adds another piece to the proverbial puzzle.”
“You go first, Isabel,” Jovi said. “I need cream and sugar.”
Isabel carefully opened the letter. Blake moved the scrapbook safely out of the way and pulled his steaming mug of coffee closer. Isabel’s eyes scanned the page.
Jovi brought spoons, creamer and a sugar bowl to the table.
“This is wild,” Isabel whispered. “Where did you find it?”
Jovi’s spoon clinked against her mug as she stirred in the cream and sugar, craning her neck to read Dennis’s letter to Lois.
“It was in Lois and Mac’s filing cabinet. The one in their shed.” Burke lifted his mug to take a cautious sip. “No one’s ever read it until this week.”
Jovi and Isabel exchanged glances.
Then Isabel’s gaze drifted to Burke. “Do you think this could’ve all been resolved if she’d just read this letter?”
He hesitated. “It’s hard to say. I wondered the same thing. But maybe they talked about it in person after Mac and Lois moved here?”
“Evidently, that changed exactly nothing,” Jovi quipped. “Because time marched on and here we are. Lois and Mac must’ve refused Grandpa’s offer to work together.”
So what next? Burke frowned. A scrapbook hidden in the bottom of a footlocker held all the proof they needed to confirm that Carol’s heartache had instigated a feud. Even though she’d offered an olive branch of sorts, Lois’s cold-hearted response must’ve cemented their falling out.
But what about his broken relationship with Jovi? Did he have any hope of repairing that?
Regret cratered his stomach. Their families had caused each other so much pain because of their stubbornness and pride. Was there still hope for reconciliation among this generation? He sighed deeply. This had all been so exhausting. He had no idea how to move forward.