A Bramble House Christmas (Carrigans of the Circle C Book 6) (9 page)

F
inn’s camera seemed to have a mind of its own that morning. When it ought to be pointing at the snow and the mountains, and the little boy on the toboggan, he would sometimes find it focusing on Willa.

She had the sort of face that was transformed by laughter. The magic started at her eyes, making them bright and inviting, then spread to the wide, generous mouth that surely-to-God had been made for kissing.

Her happiness was infectious and natural. And if they’d been alone, Finn would have given in to the urge to kiss her many times over.

And wasn’t that ironic?

He could just imagine what Molly, Keelin and Berneen—not to mention his mother—would say if he admitted he, too, was attracted to their father’s nurse.

The three of them had been out on the hill for over an hour when a group of older kids arrived for some fun, and then some younger ones, too, with one or more parents in tow.

By now Finn had all the pictures he needed. He could have made an excuse and headed off on his own—but when Scout pleaded for hot chocolate, he ended up joining mother and son on their walk toward Main Street and Sage Carrigan’s Copper Mountain Chocolate Shop.

Sage wasn’t working this morning, but another friendly server was pleased to fill to-go mugs for them. They carried them to River Bend Park, and found a bench in the sun.

Noticing some friendly glances from others in the park, Finn realized the three of them could easily be mistaken for a family.

The thought made his gut tighten.

Finn had never pictured a wife or children as part of his future.

Having endured the sort of life his parents had shared, marriage, to him, was a terrible trap to avoid.

His sister Molly’s marriage was somewhat better, but still no ad for wedded bliss. Her husband traveled a lot with his work. Molly seemed to be always alone with the rug rats and vaguely disgruntled.

Ironically his gaze was drawn to the window display of a bridal store where a beautiful white dress made a deceptive fairy-tale promise.

Romance didn’t lead to happily-ever-after, but to a lifetime of bills, and crying children and honey-do chores.

Finn shifted his gaze upward to a small jewelry store above the bridal shop.

How convenient. First buy the rings, then the dress.

“J. P. & Sons, Montana Jewelers.”

Finn started, surprised that Willa was reading aloud the sign that he’d just been looking at.

“It looks so old and interesting,” she said. “Nothing like the modern chain-store jewelry places you see in every mall.”

Something clicked in Finn’s brain as he remembered why he was here in Marietta, hanging out with this particular woman and her small, sometimes too serious son. “I wonder if the store dates back to the eighteen hundreds. It looks old enough. Maybe whoever works there might know something about your ring.”

Willa was quiet for a moment, no doubt recalling that she’d been the one to spout a theory of the same jeweler designing both rings.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to ask.”

O
n their way toward the jewelry shop, they ran into Sage Carrigan, her husband Deputy O’Dell and their two children. Dawson had the baby in one arm, and was holding Sage’s hand with the other. Skipping in front of them was their older daughter. Fairness made Finn acknowledge that in this particular case, marriage seemed to suit all the parties involved. Before hellos had even been exchanged, Savannah was asking Scout if he liked playing with Legos.

“I’m going to make a Santa’s Village. Want to help me?”

Willa’s instinctive reaction was to shake her head. But when her son pulled pleadingly on her hand, and Sage seconded her daughter’s invitation with friendly insistence, she relented.

“You’re sure it isn’t too much trouble?”

“Savannah’s been so bored since school let out and her best friend is away for the holidays,” Sage explained.

“You’ll be doing us the favor,” Sage’s husband agreed. “I can bring Scout back to the B&B in a couple hours if that works for you?”

Though Willa had only met these people a few days ago, Sage’s relationship to Eliza at the Bramble House, and the fact that O’Dell was a local deputy, made the play-date an extremely low-risk proposition. Yet Finn was surprised when the super-protective Willa actually let her son leave with the young family.

By the tense lines around her mouth and eyes, though, he could tell it wasn’t easy for her.

What made her so protective? Was it the responsibility of being a single mother...or something more?

“You think I’m one of those obsessively controlling mothers,” Willa said, obviously picking up on his thoughts.

“Hey, I don’t have kids. Who am I to judge?”

“In my experience, few people can resist judging mothers. The thing is, I’m trying to loosen up where Scout is concerned. It’s just...difficult for me.”

Finn was surprised to see actual pain in her eyes as she said this. “You’re a good mother. Even I can tell that. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

When she shot him a grateful smile, he had one of those dangerous impulses again, to hold her. Kiss her.

Planting his fists firmly into his jacket pockets, Finn raised his eyes to the upper level jewelry store.

Willa nodded at the silent reminder, then followed him inside the building and to a narrow set of stairs. Each step had a unique squeak, so their procession upward was a noisy one.

Finally they emerged in front of an old wooden door with a frosted window. A small sign instructed them to press a buzzer for admittance.

Willa removed her mitten and pushed her finger on the button. An irritatingly loud buzz was followed by the sound of shuffling footsteps. Slowly, with a harsh squeak, the main door opened outward, releasing a lemon-oil scent and a small, stooped man.

The man had a bald head and watery blue eyes that seemed singularly disinterested.

“I don’t carry engagement rings.” He had a wavering voice that befitted his obvious age.

“We’re not here to buy anything. We have this ring—it’s a Montana sapphire—and we were wondering if you could tell us who made it.”

On cue, Willa held out her right hand.

The older man stepped forward, peered at the ring. “My.” His voice was stronger, suddenly, alert and engaged. “You’d better come in.”

The shop was dimly lit, but dust-free, with antique oak display cases from another era. At the far end, an old-fashioned cash register stood at the ready—clearly debit or credit cards were not the preferred option.

“My name is Jon Paul Pendleton. Everyone calls me J. P. This business has been in our family for three generations. May I ask who you are and what brings you here?” His eyes were on the ring as he asked the question.

“I’m Willa Fairchild. My son and I live in Phoenix.” Willa was quick to dispel the impression they were a couple.

“While I live in Boulder, Colorado,” Finn added. “Willa and I met a few days ago. We’re both staying at the Bramble House B&B.”

“Ah.” J. P. nodded. “Has Mable Bramble seen this ring?”

Willa glanced at Finn before answering. “Yes. She seemed to think it was identical to one her great-grandmother used to wear. Which seemed like quite the coincidence.”

“We wondered if maybe the same jeweler had made several copies of the same ring,” Finn added.

J.P. made a non-committal noise, then asked if he could see the ring again.

Willa slid it off her finger and passed it over.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. He went behind his counter and examined the piece with a magnifying glass under a bright light, all the while making little noises of approval and mounting excitement.

Finally he returned the ring with some reluctance. “The filigree work is distinctive. I am almost certain this ring was crafted by my grandfather. And if that is the case, then it raises some very interesting questions regarding the provenance of the stone.”

“It’s a Montana sapphire, right?” Willa already had the ring back on her finger.

“Yes, otherwise known as corundum, which is a crystalline form of aluminum oxide. The addition of trace amounts of iron and titanium is what gives the gem its trademark blue color. The quality of this stone is remarkable. Reminiscent of the Yogo sapphires from Judith Basin County. But, different. May I ask where you obtained your ring?”

“It was a gift,” Willa said a touch defensively. “From a gentleman who died recently. Greg Conrad. He told me the ring belonged to his mother.”

“Do you happen to know her name, or if she was connected in any way to the Bramble family?”

“J—” Finn almost blurted out his grandmother’s name, then recovered and deflected the question to Willa. “Did your patient tell you his mother’s name?”

“I’m afraid not.” She looked back at the jeweler. “Do you know how many of these rings your grandfather made?”

“He was very secretive about the pieces he made for the Brambles. But my father told me there had been four rings and one necklace. The stones were reputably from a small vein of sapphires the Brambles found on their stake at Copper Mountain. Up until now I never believed the story. But this stone...it does make me wonder.”

Finn was intrigued. “You mean the Brambles were looking for copper and found sapphires?”

“They did, in fact, find copper. But it was all mined out in about twenty years. Marietta almost went bust when the copper was gone, but thanks to the ranchers and the founding families who decided to stay put and reinvest their money in local businesses, we managed to survive and eventually to thrive.”

“What about the sapphires? Did they really find them on Copper Mountain?” Willa wondered.

“That is an unresolved question, to this day. There are some old-timers who say it was all a rumor.”

Finn leaned against the counter, fixing in on the older man’s cloudy blue eyes. “But you don’t believe that, do you?”

“I did. Until today.” The old man’s voice lowered to a whisper. “If the quality of this stone is any indication, the Brambles may have uncovered a real treasure. I don’t know how they managed to keep it such a closely guarded secret.”

Finn noticed Willa close her hand protectively over the ring. She’d been growing progressively paler as the conversation progressed. It was left to Finn to ask the obvious questions. “If your theory is correct, then where are the other rings and the necklace? Not to mention the rest of the gems the Brambles mined from the mountain?”

J. P. shrugged. “I have no idea. But before you leave may I see the ring one more time?”

With some reluctance Willa gave it to him.

“Interesting.” J.P. peered at the inside of the band for over a minute, then he passed the ring back to Willa. “Tell me. Do you see an inscription on the inside? It’s very faint.”

Willa put the ring under the bright light and examined it closer. “Why yes. I can hardly see it, but I think it says...May Ball. Here. You look.”

She passed it to Finn, and sure enough he saw it, too. “I think it says May Bell. Not May Ball.”

“That name mean anything to you?” J.P. asked.

Finn shrugged. “Afraid not.”

Not until they’d left the shop did Willa tell him her theory.

W
illa squeezed Finn’s arm once they’d descended the stairs to street level. “May Bell, Finn. It’s an awful lot like Mable.”

“Hell, yeah, you’re right.” Why hadn’t he picked up on that? Finn blinked in the bright sunlight.

“It’s starting to seem more and more likely that this ring really did belong to someone in the Bramble family once.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Confused. I just don’t get why my patient would give me a ring that was a family heirloom.”

“Maybe he didn’t know,” Finn said slowly, realizing that of course, that had to be the case. Grandma Judith couldn’t have told his father the providence of the ring. Perhaps she hadn’t known it herself.

But how had his father known about the Brambles and Marietta? Why had he wanted to come here? His father’s mother must have said
something
to him about his father.

With unspoken accord they headed back to the B&B, Willa’s hands tucked deep into the pockets of her winter-white parka. A gentle breeze played with her hair, occasionally sending strands of it into her eyes. She didn’t seem to notice.