a lot more, but very little of it was of any use, and some of it bordered on just plain gossip about people Maggie had no interest in. By the time she managed to purchase a cookbook and leave the shop, her ears were ringing.
Chapter 9
M aggie returned from town determined to do a methodical search. The house had no cellar, but it did have an attic. Doubting she’d find the key to Garrett’s bedroom on the uppermost floor, she decided to tackle the attic last.
Other than to learn about Garrett’s brother-in-law and locate Rikker, her expedition to town had revealed little, except to answer her questions about Toby. Next to the mischief her brothers used to get into, Toby’s escapades sounded mild in comparison.
If she was lucky, the house search would reveal something more useful. But where to start?
Recalling how a map found in a dictionary helped solve the case of a museum’s stolen artwork, she settled on the crammed bookshelf in the parlor, next to the ivory chess set.
Garrett had a wide taste in reading.
Moby Dick
was shelved in between
Uncle Tom’s Cabin
and
Journey to the Center of the Earth.
Medical books shared space with philosophy, science, and history.
Stooping in front of the bookshelves, she flipped through each tome looking for letters, bank receipts, or hidden compartments. A book of poetry was inscribed
to G love from K.
She had just started on the last shelf when a knock on the door startled her.
Quickly replacing a book, she stood and opened the door.
“Aunt… I mean…”
“That’s all right. Call me Aunt Hetty. I insist.” The older woman ambled into the house with her walking cane, stabbing the floor with its tip as if checking the foundation’s integrity. “Land sakes, it’s hot out there.”
“Yes, I can’t get over the weather. Is it always this hot?”
“You’ve not seen anything yet. Wait till July and August.”
Fortunately, Maggie had no intention of sticking around that long. “Would you care for some lemonade?” she asked.
“That would be nice. Long as it’s not too sweet or too sour.” Aunt Hetty followed Maggie into the kitchen and collapsed onto a chair. Her face flushed from the heat, she pulled off her bonnet and used it to fan herself. Wisps of white hair had escaped her topknot.
“Misery loves company, but trust me, it’s better to have a pain in one hip than two,” she said, rubbing her sides.
Maggie reached in the icebox for the pitcher of lemonade. “You shouldn’t be out on such a hot day,” Maggie said.
“No, I shouldn’t. Especially in my condition. But you know what they say? What can’t be cured must be endured.” She laid her cane on the chair next to her. “What a pity that the wedding was postponed. I just hope I last that long.” Obviously she intended to hold Maggie responsible should she not.
Maggie placed the pitcher on a tray and reached into the overhead cupboard for two glasses. “Is there any reason to think that you won’t?”
Aunt Hetty looked startled. “Of course there is.” She then recited everything wrong with her and, Maggie suspected, a great deal more. She brushed her forehead with the back of her hand. “Of course, no one will believe how ill I am until I’m dead and buried.”
“What does the doctor say?” Maggie asked, setting the tray on the table.
Aunt Hetty made a rude sound. “It seems that everyone has a cure for what ails me but my doctor.” She lowered her voice. “Would you believe he had the nerve to accuse me of being perfectly healthy?”
“No!”
“I jest you not.” She lifted her shoulders and sighed. “I suppose I should be happy that you postponed the wedding. Now we can prepare for more than just a simple ceremony. It will be my parting gift to you both.”
Maggie had no time to plan a wedding, but she had to play along. “I certainly hope you stick around awhile. The children will miss you, I’m sure.”
“That’s why I’m delighted that Garrett is marrying
Chapter 9
M aggie returned from town determined to do a methodical search. The house had no cellar, but it did have an attic. Doubting she’d find the key to Garrett’s bedroom on the uppermost floor, she decided to tackle the attic last.
Other than to learn about Garrett’s brother-in-law and locate Rikker, her expedition to town had revealed little, except to answer her questions about Toby. Next to the mischief her brothers used to get into, Toby’s escapades sounded mild in comparison.
If she was lucky, the house search would reveal something more useful. But where to start?
Recalling how a map found in a dictionary helped solve the case of a museum’s stolen artwork, she settled on the crammed bookshelf in the parlor, next to the ivory chess set.
Garrett had a wide taste in reading.
Moby Dick
was shelved in between
Uncle Tom’s Cabin
and
Journey to the Center of the Earth.
Medical books shared space with philosophy, science, and history.
Stooping in front of the bookshelves, she flipped through each tome looking for letters, bank receipts, or hidden compartments. A book of poetry was inscribed
to G love from K.
She had just started on the last shelf when a knock on the door startled her.
Quickly replacing a book, she stood and opened the door.
“Aunt… I mean…”
“That’s all right. Call me Aunt Hetty. I insist.” The older woman ambled into the house with her walking cane, stabbing the floor with its tip as if checking the foundation’s integrity. “Land sakes, it’s hot out there.”
“Yes, I can’t get over the weather. Is it always this hot?”
“You’ve not seen anything yet. Wait till July and August.”
Fortunately, Maggie had no intention of sticking around that long. “Would you care for some lemonade?” she asked.
“That would be nice. Long as it’s not too sweet or too sour.” Aunt Hetty followed Maggie into the kitchen and collapsed onto a chair. Her face flushed from the heat, she pulled off her bonnet and used it to fan herself. Wisps of white hair had escaped her topknot.
“Misery loves company, but trust me, it’s better to have a pain in one hip than two,” she said, rubbing her sides.
Maggie reached in the icebox for the pitcher of lemonade. “You shouldn’t be out on such a hot day,” Maggie said.
“No, I shouldn’t. Especially in my condition. But you know what they say? What can’t be cured must be endured.” She laid her cane on the chair next to her. “What a pity that the wedding was postponed. I just hope I last that long.” Obviously she intended to hold Maggie responsible should she not.
Maggie placed the pitcher on a tray and reached into the overhead cupboard for two glasses. “Is there any reason to think that you won’t?”
Aunt Hetty looked startled. “Of course there is.” She then recited everything wrong with her and, Maggie suspected, a great deal more. She brushed her forehead with the back of her hand. “Of course, no one will believe how ill I am until I’m dead and buried.”
“What does the doctor say?” Maggie asked, setting the tray on the table.
Aunt Hetty made a rude sound. “It seems that everyone has a cure for what ails me but my doctor.” She lowered her voice. “Would you believe he had the nerve to accuse me of being perfectly healthy?”
“No!”
“I jest you not.” She lifted her shoulders and sighed. “I suppose I should be happy that you postponed the wedding. Now we can prepare for more than just a simple ceremony. It will be my parting gift to you both.”
Maggie had no time to plan a wedding, but she had to play along. “I certainly hope you stick around awhile. The children will miss you, I’m sure.”
“That’s why I’m delighted that Garrett is marrying
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