The Best Thing (Stevens Book 8)

Chapter 21

Beth and Wyatt made dinner together. Beth got that what she had said to him had made an impact, and he needed to absorb it before he commented. That was probably what made him so good at his job as a lawyer. He never rushed a judgment and always considered every angle to a problem.

After they ate and did the dishes, Wyatt offered to give Beth a behind the scenes tour of the house. He took his time leading her from room to room, showing her all of the important family heirlooms while telling her little tidbits about the history of the house that he hadn't shared on Beth's previous tour.

When they reached the study, Beth stood in awe of the massive book collection that lined the walls. "May I?" she asked, looking for permission to get a closer look.

Wyatt nodded with a smile as he leaned against the edge of a massive dark wooden desk that sat in the middle of the room and watched her.

"There are so many first additions here!" Beth was like a kid in a candy store as she pulled book after book off the shelves. When she came across a first edition of Uncle Tom's Cabin, she turned to Wyatt. "This seems a fitting place for this one."

"Look at the inscription," Wyatt told her.

Beth opened the book and saw that it was a signed copy to Effie Ramsey. "I assume that was a grandmother?" Beth asked, looking at him.

"No, a maiden aunt. Effie's views were too much ahead of the times for any man to be willing to take her on fulltime. From everything I heard about her, she was a real beauty in her day but it wasn't enough."

"Still, I'm surprised the book was allowed in the house." Beth shook her head. "What was it Abraham Lincoln said when he met the author, "So this is the little lady who started this great war."

"Something like that," Wyatt agreed as he watched Beth replace the book.

"What was it like to grow up here?" Beth moved down the bookshelf tracing the spine of a few books while she studied Wyatt's reflection in the glass of a photo on the wall next to her.

He shrugged. "I wish I could say it was fun, but this was not a happy house. I don't know if ever has been."

"What do you mean?" Beth turned to him, giving him her full attention.

"My parents fought a lot." He shrugged again.

"There has to be more to that statement than, my parents fought a lot. Is it a haunted house, were you troubled by the ghosts of ancestors past who told you all of the family secrets? Oh my God! Is that why you know so many good stories?" Beth's eyes danced with interest.

"Do you really want me to tell you ghost stories this close to bedtime?" He laughed. Their eyes meet at the thought of it being almost bedtime while alone in the house, but they were both hesitant to talk about that elephant.

"I do! Ghost stories are always best told right before bedtime," Beth insisted. It also wouldn't hurt to have a reason to knock on his door later. She licked her lips in the process, and Wyatt followed the movement. She was sure he knew what she was thinking.

"No, that is not how I got all of my good stories. Many of the women in the family kept journals." Wyatt stayed on topic while walking over to a closed cabinet behind him and opening it. Behind the door were rows of leather-bound journals of varying size and age.

Unable to help herself, Beth joined him, pulling out the last one on the shelf. She opened it up and read the first page. "Look, your mother wrote this one," she said excitedly.

Wyatt took it from her hand with a frown as he looked at it, confirming what she had said.  "I didn't know this one was here." He skimmed through it, looking at the dates, then closed it and put it back on the shelf.