Free The House on Blackberry Hill: Jewell Cove #1 (Jewel Cove) by Donna Alward Page B

was all Ms. Marian. She loved her garden, especially the roses. She always had the nicest blooms. I’d hate to see the state of it now.” He shook his head.
    “It’s a mess,” Abby confirmed. “I don’t think it has been touched since she stopped living at the house.”
    “A shame,” he said, cutting through the flaky crust of his pie. “After all the work she put in. The house probably isn’t much better, is it?”
    Abby smiled back. “I got the feeling that Captain Foster built it to withstand any storm, but it needs some attention,” she conceded. “I need to have it assessed, but my initial impression is that it’s sound.”
    “You should have Tom Arseneault have a peek at it. That boy knows what he’s doing.”
    That “boy” had to be thirty years old and was the size of a barn door. “So I’ve heard,” she replied dryly. Ellis didn’t need to know she’d already asked Tom for a quote. Besides, she was sure the gossip mill would have everyone well informed about it all in no time anyway. “You know the house well, Mr. Ellis. I’d love to learn more about it. It’s on Foster Lane, but more than once I’ve heard it called Blackberry Hill. Do you know why that is?”
    Art sat back against the padded seat. “It’s been called that for years. Blackberries grow wild all over that side of the mountain. You take a walk up sometime and check it out. Between them and the blueberries, the odd black bear’s been known to show up now and again.”
    “I haven’t gone up yet. Is there anything up there?”
    Art nodded. “There’s still one of the old barns from when it was the Prescott farm. That’d be your great-grandmother Edith’s family.” He leaned closer, as if sharing a secret, and damned if she wasn’t drawn in. “When I was younger there was a rumor that the barns and buildings were hiding spots for spies during the war. But that’s just a bunch of romantic talk. The Prescotts moved away after Edith and Elijah married and years later the old house burned in a lightning strike. The barn’s still there, and the gate was put across the road because teenagers used to go up there and get up to no good in the barn.”
    “And you know this because?”
    He grinned and his eyes twinkled. “Well, I suppose that would be because I was one of those teenagers.”
    She smiled as she looked down into her chowder bowl. Art Ellis could be a charmer too, couldn’t he?
    “But you need to talk to someone who knew Edith and Elijah,” he said. He looked around the diner until he found who he was looking for. “Hey, Isabel. Come on over here a minute.”
    Abby’s fingers tightened on her spoon. Good heavens, anyone who had known her great-grandparents would have to be at least ninety, wouldn’t they? She spooned up more chowder, determined to eat before it got stone-cold.
    “What are you going on about, Arthur? And it’s Mrs. Frost to you,” the sharp voice replied from a corner of the restaurant.
    Mindless of the other patrons, Art let out a sigh. “Well, if you don’t want to meet Marian’s niece, fine by me.”
    It took a while for the elderly woman to shuffle her way over to them, but when she got there she didn’t mince words. Her white curls bobbed as she nodded at Abby. “I’ll sit over here, if you don’t mind. I won’t be sitting next to the likes of you, Arthur Ellis. Biggest troublemaker I ever had in my class. Always teasing the girls.” The white-haired woman used the counter to help lever herself up, and sat down with an oomph on the other side of Abby. She leaned ahead and wagged her finger at Arthur. “You were always more trouble than you were worth.”
    “You loved me and you know it,” he replied. He gave Abby a wink. “They all loved me. I was a good-looking kid.”
    Abby took the bait. “I think you are probably right, Mrs. Frost. Charming, for sure, but a smart woman can see right through that, don’t you agree?”
    Isabel Frost laughed, a wheezy sound that made