Danger in a Small Town. Ginny Aiken
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They’re just unique and rare collectibles. Victorians didn’t cotton to the notion of cremation. They agreed with Scripture about the body being buried.”
Tess knew her Scriptures just as well as the next Christian girl, but still, the thought of urns and ashes…she shuddered.
“That still doesn’t tell me why you—” or anyone else “—would collect them.”
Miss Tabitha gestured vaguely. “A distant relative left me a small collection—four or five—in her will. They’re lovely, you know. A few years later I saw another one at an antiques auction and, well, that was that.”
“And people pay for these things?” Tess asked.
Ethan made another sound, this one more like a stifled chuckle.
Miss Tabitha met Tess’s gaze. “You wouldn’t be thinking there’s ashes in them, now would you?”
“Uh…er…no! No, no. Of course not.” Phew!
Miss Tabitha flashed the mischievous grin that had stolen Tess’s great-uncle’s heart. “Good. I’m glad to hear that. At auction I’ve seen them go for hundreds and sometimes thousands of dollars.”
Tess shook her head. There really was no accounting for taste, as the old saying went. “Okay, then. Why don’t you bring me a couple? We’ll start small and see how it goes from there.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Miss Tabitha turned to Ethan. “Would you be so kind as to bring them to Tess later on tonight? I’d like to get her up and running. This sounds like fun.”
Ethan’s eyes twinkled. “Be happy to.”
Miss Tabitha studied him through narrowed green eyes. Long, silent moments later, she pushed her chair from the table. “I’d better be getting back home. I need to start supper for my guests.”
“I’ll walk you there,” Ethan said.
Tess gathered her plate and glass and stood. “I’ll take Uncle Gordon his sandwich when he wakes up from his nap.”
Miss Tabitha crossed the room to the sink, washed her hands, dried them on a nearby kitchen towel and then headed toward the front hall, all the time chattering about the meal she planned to serve.
Tess laid an arm around Miss Tabitha’s shoulders. “How many boarders do you have these days?”
“A full house—all four rooms are occupied. The Good Lord’s blessed me with just the right amount of income to keep me independent all these years.”
“I hope the boarders know how lucky they are. Not many landladies throw in gourmet meals as part of the rent.”
“I’m glad this one does,” Ethan said, smiling.
“Thank you, dear. I love to mess around in the kitchen, and it does my heart good to see folks enjoy the results.”
“You do more than mess around,” Tess said, “and you know it. I think you should open up a cooking school, give lessons, at the very least.”
Miss Tabitha’s green eyes twinkled. “Oh, who knows. Maybe someday. But I’ve all I can handle on my plate right now.”
Tess hugged Miss Tabitha then held the door open. “I’ll be waiting for the urns.”
Ethan winked. “With bated breath.”
Tess couldn’t hold it back this time. She laughed. He joined her, and as Ethan escorted Miss Tabitha to the sidewalk, Tess couldn’t squelch the tiny flicker of excitement. She liked Ethan Rogers.
“Lord? I did the right thing coming home, didn’t I?”
Only time would tell.
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