Page 87 of It'll Always Be Her
She didn’t recall Edith saying Millicent had also been an artist. There had been no mention of that in Captain Marcus’s journals either.
Bee leafed carefully through the drawings. There were twenty total, eight of which looked like a variety of wildflowers, and a dozen more containing a pairing of a flower and a pine cone.
Bee recognized the flower as a California poppy, the long, elegant stems capped with four petals colored a deep golden-orange like a sunset.
The pine cone was…well, a pine cone, but exquisitely detailed, with strong, symmetrical scales broad at the base and ascending to a narrow peak. The scales were colored a deep, rich array of browns. Some of the cones were connected to a branch sprouting shiny, bluish-green needles, and others were unattached.
But in all the drawings of the poppy and the pine cone, the two plants were touching. In one, the poppy stem was bending gracefully toward the pine cone, the petals brushing the cone’s scales.
In another, the flower leaned against the pine cone as if it were a support system. In a third, the pine branch and cone were entwined with the flower’s leaves.
Bee paged through all of the drawings until she came to the last one—an image of the poppy alone. The stem was straight, the petals open and bright, but the sudden loss of the pine cone made the little flower look both lonely and sad.
A strange ache pushed at Bee’s chest. She slowly put the drawings back into the portfolio and tied the ribbon. She looked over the shelves again, but there weren’t any more portfolios like this one.
Tucking it under her arm, she headed out of the stacks and went downstairs to the circulation desk.
She had a sudden urge to see Adam. She wanted to show him the portfolio, but there was a deeper instinct, like she needed to be in his atmosphere for a few minutes.
“Jay, do you know where Adam is?” she asked the gaffer heading toward the front doors.
He pointed up at the ceiling. “He’s in that little room at the top. Wants to film there tonight, so he’s figuring out what equipment will fit up there.”
“Thanks.”
Bee hurried back upstairs, still clutching the portfolio. She took the narrow staircase to the cupola and knocked on the half-open door.
Adam was standing beside the display case, his head bent over one of the old books. He glanced up as she entered, his gaze meeting hers with a force that made her blood quicken.
“Hey.” A gorgeous smile spread across his face, crinkling his eyes at the corners. “You’re going to want to kiss me.”
“More so than usual?” She returned his smile and slipped underneath his extended arm. He drew her closer, bending to give her a quick kiss.
“Possibly.” He indicated the book, where an open letter was spread over the pages. “I found this letter folded in the back of a book about the constellations. It’s from John Marcus’s brother William back in Maine.”
“What does it say?”
“That he thinks John’s idea to propose to Miss Pepper isexceptional.”
Bee’s breath caught. “Really?”
“Really.” He handed her the letter.
Bee edged out from under his arm and set the portfolio on a table, then skimmed the letter. Not only did William Marcus think the idea of proposing was exceptional, he found it “quite amusing” that John intended to propose to Miss Pepper on Halloween night, in honor of the day they’d first met five years earlier.
John had wanted, and received, his brother’s blessing, and William agreed to keep the secret until John’s return from his trade expedition to Hawaii.
Sorrow diluted some of Bee’s intrigue. John had never returned from the expedition. He’d never proposed to Millicent.
“I found something too.” She opened the portfolio and showed Adam the drawings of the flowers and the pine cone. “I don’t think anyone even knows that Millicent had been a talented artist.”
“Was this the only portfolio?” Adam picked up one of the poppy-pine cone drawings and studied it intently.
“The only one I found. There might be more somewhere else in the library, but I have no idea where. I’ll look, but it could take a while.” She looked over his shoulder at the drawing. “It’s almost like she’s telling a story, isn’t it?”
“She is.” Adam put the drawing down and picked up another one. “This is a California poppy, right?”
“Yes. I don’t know what the other wildflowers are, but they’re all very detailed, like she studied the plants before drawing them. I imagine she drew the pine cone to work on things like texture and shading.”