Home to Walnut Ridge (10 page)

“
At the
Tennessee
governor’s
mansion?” she quipped. “I doubt it. I’m sure those cups have some
gaudy orange and white design. Go Vols and all that.”

He smiled. “You’re probably right. But
since you’re a Vandy grad, I doubt you’d approve. You’d expect
something gold and black.”

“
Well, of course. Much
more elegant for the governor’s mansion, in my opinion.” She
reached for the saucer, inadvertently pulling the linen wrapping
along with it. As she did so, something fluttered to the floor. “I
wonder what that is?”

“
I’ll get it.” Noah set
the cup on the table between them and reached for a torn piece of
paper. “Whoa. Where did this come from?” He transferred it to his
other hand, holding it in his palm. “Looks like parchment or
something.”

Tracey set the saucer down and leaned
over for a closer look. “Has to be parchment. Can you make out what
it says?”

He moved it closer to the light. “Hard
to read. The ink is really faded.” He looked up at her. “Do you
have a magnifying glass handy?”

“
Dad keeps one in the
kitchen. I’ll get it.”

“
I’ll come with you. I
think we need better light.” He followed her, blinking when Tracey
flipped on the lights over the kitchen counter. “Much better. Let’s
take a look.”

They sat side by side on the tall bar
stools. Noah carefully laid the small note on the counter and held
the magnifying glass over it.

“
Wow, this must be really
old,” Tracey whispered in awe, just before gasping. “Noah, look!”
Leaning closer, she pointed at the last line of the note. “That’s a
date‌—‌
April 29, 1863.
Can that be right?”

“
Whoa . . .”

“
What do the words say?
There,” she pointed. “Is that an F or a P?

“
I think it’s a P,” he
answered reverently. “I think it says,
For
safe
‍—‍
”

“
For
safe-keeping?”

“
For
safe-keeping . . . until the
‍—‍
”

“‍—‍
until the war is
over!
That has to be the Civil
War!”

He turned, their faces just inches
apart. “Do you realize what that means?”

She turned at his
question, looking into his eyes. “What?” When he simply stared at
her without answering, she asked again. “Do I realize what
what
means?”

A moment more then he looked back at
the small piece of parchment. “It means this note was written
around 150 years ago.”

Still watching him, she pressed. “You
were going to say something else.”

“
I was?”

“
Noah?”

He glanced briefly at her then back at
the note. “Nothing. I guess I was just overly excited or
something.”

She wasn’t convinced.

“
I think these must be
someone’s initials. And if I’m not mistaken, it’s CJC.”

She leaned in closer, taking the
magnifying glass from his hand. The capital letters were in script
and rather swirly, but she had to agree. “CJC. Has to be one of my
ancestors, wouldn’t you think? The last C most likely stands for
Collins.”

“
Probably. No way to know
for sure, but it’s a place to start.” He leaned back and folded his
arms across his chest. “Do you have some kind of record of family
names?”

“
There’s an old family
Bible with that sort of thing, but I think it’s up in the
attic.”

“
Probably not the best
time for us to be rooting around up there,” he said, carefully
picking up the note again.

“
I guess you’re right.”
Tracey hopped down from the stool. Maybe I can look for it in the
morning.”

“
Have you got a Ziploc bag
we could put this in? We should probably try to keep it as sterile
as possible.”

She pulled a plastic bag from a drawer
and opened it for him to drop the parchment in. “Hey, I bet Mrs.
Sadie over at the library would have some old records. She’s quite
the historian.”

He followed her out to the back porch.
“Should we take her the cup and saucer?”

She sat back down, tucking her feet
under her as she picked up her laptop. “I suppose. But I’m not sure
I can wait. Let’s see if we can find out something about the
china.” She looked up at him. “Are you in a hurry?”

“
No. Are you sure you
don’t mind me sticking around?”

“
Not at all. We’re in this
thing together, right?”

“
Yes, I suppose we are,”
he said, smiling. “In which case, do you mind if I‍—‍?” He motioned
to the sofa beside her so he could see the laptop
screen.

“
Have a seat.” As he sat
down, she caught a whiff of his cologne and decided it suited him.
After powering up her laptop, the screen came to life. A chat
screen popped up.
Morgan: Trace, are you
there?
She quickly closed the chat and
felt her face warm.

“
If you need to answer
that, I can go,” Noah said, starting to get up.

Tracey grabbed his sleeve and pulled
him back. “No need. Now let’s see. What should I
Google‌—‌teacup?”

Noah leaned back,
wondering why she hadn’t answered the chat notice from her boss. It
seemed a little odd that a U.S. Senator would use chat to
communicate with his staff.
Then again,
what do I know?

“
Try using Google Images
first,” he said. “That way you’ll see the pictures, not just a
listing.”

“
Okay.”

“
And type in ‘teacup with
eagle crest’ and see what you get.”

The monitor filled with pictures of
all kinds of teacups, teacup-sized puppies, crests, and even a
teacup-sized piglet or two.

“
This is going to take
forever,” Tracey mumbled, scrolling through the images.

“
Stop,” Noah said, placing
his hand on hers over the mouse. “Scroll back up.”

“
Why? What did you
see?”

“
Do you mind if I take the
mouse for a moment?”

She took her hand off the device.
“Sure. But tell me what you‍—‍”

“
There,” he said, clicking
on an image. As an enlarged image filled the screen, he slowly
turned his face toward hers. “We’re going about this all
wrong.”

“
What?” she asked, meeting
his eyes.

Intensely aware of her closeness, he
reached up and gently turned her face back toward the screen.
“That.”

“
Okay, it’s a‌—‌oh
my
gosh,
” she
croaked, turning to face him again. “It’s a
presidential seal
?”

He smiled. “Yes, it is. Now keep that
thought. If the note we found from your
great-great-great-uncle-Craggie is authentic, and the date is
right . . .” He arched his eyebrows encouraging her
to connect the dots.

She gasped, both hands flying to her
cheeks. “It’s . . . it’s‍—‍”

“
It’s entirely possible
that teacup and saucer over there came from the White House.” He
paused. “Which was occupied at the time by‍—‍”

“
ABRAHAM
LINCOLN!”

He laughed out loud, cupping his hand
over her mouth. “Well, yes, but must you announce it to the whole
world?”

Tracey grasped his hand
over her mouth and drew it away. “
Abraham
Lincoln
could have sipped tea from that
cup?!” she whisper-squealed.

“
Yes, I think that’s
entirely possible.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The
discovery may have been breathtaking, but no more so than the young
woman sitting beside him. From the moment he met her, Noah had been
intrigued. Her quiet confidence. Her warm and ready smile creating
the perfect frame for eyes the color of dark caramel. Her hair‌—‌a
deep, rich brunette, always shining, reaching well below her
shoulders.

As she stared into his eyes, he could
tell her mind was far away. “What are you thinking?” he
asked.

“
I’m imagining a much
older version of the White House. I’m there in the State Dining
Room where President and Mrs. Lincoln are hosting their guests. And
everyone’s seated at decorated tables, all set with this same
china.” He watched as she blinked back to the present.

“
Then again,” he said
quietly.

“
Yes?”

He tipped his forehead
down to touch hers. “Then again, it
could
have been Mary
Todd.”

“
Mary Todd?”

“
Mrs. Lincoln.
She
could have sipped
from that cup over there, not Abe.”

“
Ah.”

Their eyes seemed locked on one
another . . . and then the moment passed.

“
Yes, well‌—‌” she
said.

“
Yes, well,” he echoed as
she turned her attention back to the screen.

“
May I?” She reached for
the mouse.

“
Sure. Fine. Absolutely.”
He slid it over to her.

He watched as she keyed
in
Lincoln china
pattern
, then hit ENTER. The familiar
images filled row after row of the exact same pattern.

“
Whoa!” Noah leaned back.
“I can’t
believe
it!”

Tracey’s smile widened as she glanced
at him in utter shock. “Unbelievable,” she whispered.

For the next half hour,
they followed a cyber rabbit trail of pictures and information
about the Lincoln china. They learned that the crest on the actual
plates and bowls and platters was more detailed than the one on the
teacups‌—‌a lower arc of clouds on the bottom half of the design;
the nation’s motto,
“E pluribus
unum”
written on floating ribbons against
the clouds; an arc of clouds edged by sunlight above the eagle’s
head and wings. They talked over each other, pointing out this
anecdote and that, comparing one picture with another.

After Noah grew quiet, Tracey paused.
“I’ve worn you out, haven’t I?”

“
Not at all. This is
fascinating, and I’m anxious to find out how a cup and saucer from
the Lincoln White House ended up in your smokehouse.”

“
Well, yes, there’s that,”
she said with a tired smile.

Noah stood. “But I’ve got an early
morning, and I need to get some rest.”

She set the laptop aside and followed
him to the back door. “I hadn’t even noticed the fire died out.
Some hostess I am.”

He pushed open the screen door and
turned to look back at the fireplace. “It’s nice back here. I’ve
always enjoyed my visits with Buddy out here when he builds a
fire.”

“
I’m sure Dad’s fires
never die out.”

“
No, but you’ll get the
hang of it. Just takes practice.”

“
I’ll try to remember
that.”

“
It was fun. Thanks,
Tracey. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He let the door tap shut behind
him. “Next time I’ll try to remember my dog collar.” He mimed the
noisy collar. “Lots of bells.”

“
Please do. And I’ll try
not to jump when I hear them.”

“
Good night,
Tracey.”

“
Good night,
Noah.”

Chapter 8

At breakfast the next morning, it was
just the three of them again. Tracey couldn’t wait to tell her
father and Alex about the amazing discovery she and Noah had made
last night. She’d brought the cup and saucer into the kitchen,
setting them on the table beside her. Knowing they’d want to see
for themselves, she’d also brought her laptop along. When the
moment came, she enlarged the photo of the Lincoln china and spun
the screen around so they could see it.

“
Ta da!”

“
Oh. My. GOSH!” Alex
cried.

Buddy pulled the laptop closer to him.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” He tilted his head up so he could
view it through the readers perched on his nose. “Well, for the
love of Pete! Sure enough‌—‌there it is. Tracey Jo, how’d you find
out? How’d you even know where to look?”