other. “So why would someone store
their fine china in the wall of a smokehouse? I wonder who put it
here?”
Noah held one of the cloths in his
hand. “I’m no expert, but that looks like some kind of crest.” He
pointed to the design on the cup. “Much more regal than I would
expect to find in most Tennessee homes.” He carefully turned it
over. “Unfortunately, there’s no stamp by the china company. That
would help, at least to know where it came from
originally.”
“ I still don’t understand
why these were in the wall,” Tracey said.
Alex carefully began rewrapping the
cloth around the teacup. “I don’t either, but I bet we can Google
it and find out. But it sure adds to the mystique of this place,
doesn’t it? I’ve always wished the walls at Walnut Ridge could
talk. Now maybe they will!”
“ In the meantime, I’d
suggest taking these up to the house and storing them somewhere so
they don’t get broken,” Noah said. “In fact, I promised Buddy I’d
meet him there. He’s got another generator for these lights until
we get an electrician to wire the place. If you’ll trust me with
them, I’ll put them in your dining room hutch.”
Alex helped him wrap the saucer. “Good
idea. In fact, let’s put them in my backpack there so they’ll be
easier to carry.”
They placed the fragile dishes gently
into the canvas bag and sent Noah on his way.
“ Okay, Sis. I brought some
of Dad’s work gloves, so put me to work.”
Side by side, Alex and Tracey pulled
down cobwebs, swept the filthy floor, and continued prepping the
interior for more serious work. Nasty work, but Tracey loved
it.
She leaned over to look out the back
door before lowering her voice. “I’ve been wanting to ask you about
Noah. He told me he met Dad on one of his biker weekends and that
he’s a roadie of some kind, but not much else. What’s his
story?”
Alex didn’t even bother looking up
from her work. “Well, there’s not a whole lot more to tell. He’s
been in the area a year or so, give or take. From what Dad said, he
used to be some big financial attorney in New York, but gave it all
up after his wife died.”
“ He’s a widower ?”
“ That’s usually what they
call a man who loses his wife,” Alex said.
“ I know, but—well, how
did she die? Cancer?”
Alex stood back up and arched her
back. “No, she was killed in some kind of accident.”
“ That’s so sad,” Tracey
said. “I mean, he’s so young.”
Alex blew a strand of hair out of her
face. “I know. It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? He still struggles,
from time to time. He disappears now and then, and not just when
he’s on tour with those musicians. He’ll just take off on his bike,
and we won’t see him for a week or two.”
“ Where do you think he
goes?”
“ No idea. I’m guessing he
just gets on the road and goes. Maybe it helps clear his thoughts.
Who knows. But he’s come a long, long way since Dad more or less
took him under his wing. They’re really close, as you probably
noticed.”
“ Which explains why he’s
living in your cottage.”
“ When I moved back to the
house to help Dad, it just seemed like I was supposed to stay. So I
stayed. Left most of my things down at the cottage, in case I ever
change my mind. But it was stupid to have it sitting there empty
when Noah didn’t have a place to hang his hat.”
Tracey picked a piece of straw off her
sister’s shirt. “So, tell me. How well have you gotten to know him?
He seems really comfortable around you.”
Alex clumsily scratched her ear with
the oversized glove on her hand. “What do you mean? The guy eats
dinner with us occasionally, he does odd jobs around the house,
helps Dad with his ministry projects, and they bike together now
and then. Yeah, I know him a little more than the others, but why
do you ask?”
“ Oh, I don’t know. I was
just hoping maybe you and he—”
“ Oh, for crying out loud,
Trace,” Alex whispered
their fine china in the wall of a smokehouse? I wonder who put it
here?”
Noah held one of the cloths in his
hand. “I’m no expert, but that looks like some kind of crest.” He
pointed to the design on the cup. “Much more regal than I would
expect to find in most Tennessee homes.” He carefully turned it
over. “Unfortunately, there’s no stamp by the china company. That
would help, at least to know where it came from
originally.”
“ I still don’t understand
why these were in the wall,” Tracey said.
Alex carefully began rewrapping the
cloth around the teacup. “I don’t either, but I bet we can Google
it and find out. But it sure adds to the mystique of this place,
doesn’t it? I’ve always wished the walls at Walnut Ridge could
talk. Now maybe they will!”
“ In the meantime, I’d
suggest taking these up to the house and storing them somewhere so
they don’t get broken,” Noah said. “In fact, I promised Buddy I’d
meet him there. He’s got another generator for these lights until
we get an electrician to wire the place. If you’ll trust me with
them, I’ll put them in your dining room hutch.”
Alex helped him wrap the saucer. “Good
idea. In fact, let’s put them in my backpack there so they’ll be
easier to carry.”
They placed the fragile dishes gently
into the canvas bag and sent Noah on his way.
“ Okay, Sis. I brought some
of Dad’s work gloves, so put me to work.”
Side by side, Alex and Tracey pulled
down cobwebs, swept the filthy floor, and continued prepping the
interior for more serious work. Nasty work, but Tracey loved
it.
She leaned over to look out the back
door before lowering her voice. “I’ve been wanting to ask you about
Noah. He told me he met Dad on one of his biker weekends and that
he’s a roadie of some kind, but not much else. What’s his
story?”
Alex didn’t even bother looking up
from her work. “Well, there’s not a whole lot more to tell. He’s
been in the area a year or so, give or take. From what Dad said, he
used to be some big financial attorney in New York, but gave it all
up after his wife died.”
“ He’s a widower ?”
“ That’s usually what they
call a man who loses his wife,” Alex said.
“ I know, but—well, how
did she die? Cancer?”
Alex stood back up and arched her
back. “No, she was killed in some kind of accident.”
“ That’s so sad,” Tracey
said. “I mean, he’s so young.”
Alex blew a strand of hair out of her
face. “I know. It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? He still struggles,
from time to time. He disappears now and then, and not just when
he’s on tour with those musicians. He’ll just take off on his bike,
and we won’t see him for a week or two.”
“ Where do you think he
goes?”
“ No idea. I’m guessing he
just gets on the road and goes. Maybe it helps clear his thoughts.
Who knows. But he’s come a long, long way since Dad more or less
took him under his wing. They’re really close, as you probably
noticed.”
“ Which explains why he’s
living in your cottage.”
“ When I moved back to the
house to help Dad, it just seemed like I was supposed to stay. So I
stayed. Left most of my things down at the cottage, in case I ever
change my mind. But it was stupid to have it sitting there empty
when Noah didn’t have a place to hang his hat.”
Tracey picked a piece of straw off her
sister’s shirt. “So, tell me. How well have you gotten to know him?
He seems really comfortable around you.”
Alex clumsily scratched her ear with
the oversized glove on her hand. “What do you mean? The guy eats
dinner with us occasionally, he does odd jobs around the house,
helps Dad with his ministry projects, and they bike together now
and then. Yeah, I know him a little more than the others, but why
do you ask?”
“ Oh, I don’t know. I was
just hoping maybe you and he—”
“ Oh, for crying out loud,
Trace,” Alex whispered
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