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  Agnes stepped closer. “I didn’t realize you were shopping for antiques.”

  “I just saw the shop and went in on a whim,” Laura explained.

  Agnes frowned and smoothed her apron. “Well, dinner will be ready soon. I hope you don’t mind leftovers, but since you failed to appear for lunch I saved it all for dinner.”

  “The thing I like about the music box,” Laura began, her heart starting to pound wildly, “was that it once belonged to someone named Laura.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “Yes, see?” Laura turned the music box upside-down. Agnes walked closer. “There’s an engraving on the bottom that says, ‘To Laura from Ruby.’”

  “Curious,” Agnes remarked.

  Laura’s palms were sweating, and she had to force herself to speak. “I’m going to try to find out who the box belonged to. I want to know who Ruby and Laura were.”

  “Well,” Agnes surmised, “that’s a rather strange occupation, but I suppose a person can engage in any activity she wants to engage in.” Her voice trembled a little near the end of the sentence. Agnes was obviously trying to maintain her composure, and Laura almost pitied her.

  Agnes walked toward the door, paused, and turned toward Laura, her face stern. “They say curiosity killed the cat, you know.” Then she turned and marched away.

  A chill ran up Laura’s back.

  * * *

  Laura ran down the dark corridor toward the half-moon window. Rain pounded against the glass, thunder boomed like a cannon, and lightning lit the hall, revealing light yellow wallpaper with a floral design of peach and blue. She tripped and fell but got up and looked behind her, then dashed toward her bedroom door. As she ran into the room and slammed the door, lightning flashed through the window, illuminating the daisy-covered walls. She stumbled over toys and furniture as she made her way to the closet, then climbed in and closed the door. Footsteps thudded through the hallway, and the bedroom door squeaked opened. Someone strode toward the closet. The doorknob rattled as someone turned it from the other side, and Laura screamed.

  Laura sat up in bed, her limbs trembling and her face drenched with tears. The moon glowed through the window, and Laura switched on the lamp on the bedside table. She saw her blankets in a heap on the floor.

  Another dream, Laura thought. Then she heard the floorboards in the hallway groan and jumped out of bed. She went to the door, squared her shoulders, and pulled it open. Agnes stood in the hall wearing a nightgown.

  “What’re you doing?” Laura demanded accusatorily.

  Agnes held up a hand as if to ward off a blow. “I heard you cry out, miss. I came to see if you needed something.”

  “I was having a bad dream.” Laura breathed, trying to calm down.

  “Well, if you need anything, I’m down the hall.”

  “Thank you,” Laura uttered with a sigh. Agnes was less threatening now; in fact, she almost seemed frightened. I wonder why? Laura thought as she closed the door.

  She went to the closet and opened the door, the image of crouching there in terror still vivid in her mind. The dream had seemed so real! She turned and studied the room’s blue wallpaper. No daisies here, but . . .

  Walking to the door, Laura listened but heard nothing. She opened the door cautiously, hoping the hinges wouldn’t squeak. By the moonlight shining through the half-moon window, she could see that the hall was empty. Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to tiptoe past Agnes’s room. As Laura reached the landing, the familiar sickening sensation momentarily froze her legs. She closed her eyes. I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re all okay. These weren’t the mantras, but they would do for now.

  She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. For a moment, she thought someone lurked at the bottom of the staircase. Yet as her eyes adjusted, she saw no one. Grasping the banister, she began walking down the stairs. Each time a board squeaked, her anxiety increased, but she managed to make it to the bottom. Her bare feet touched the cold wood floor, and she stepped into the parlor.

  Like a spotlight, a moonbeam illuminated her aunt’s portrait. As Laura approached it, it seemed as if her aunt’s eyes were moving with her. She shuddered and looked away.

  Laura found the light on the table by the couch and turned it on. The ornate lamp featured roses painted on a globe with hanging crystals. Laura walked through the shadowy room to the table that held the family photo albums, then picked up two and carried them to the couch.

  Sitting down and holding one album on her lap, Laura turned the pages slowly at first, then more quickly as she realized she didn’t recognize anyone in the pictures. Then again she hadn’t even known what her aunt Laura looked like before she’d seen the woman’s portrait. Laura could see a family resemblance—elements of her mother—in the faces of many of the people, but she had no idea exactly how they were related.

  Laura set the album beside her on the couch and opened the other album. The first picture had obviously been taken at a family reunion, with everyone posing together on the porch of the mansion. From the clothing the people wore, Laura estimated that the picture was taken sometime around the turn of the twentieth century. She continued to flip the pages, noticing that the photos appeared to be in chronological order. The styles changed quickly, from flapper fashions to dresses that looked like something from I Love Lucy.

  The people changed too, but Buford’s Bluff seemed indifferent to it all. The same pillars supported the grand porch, and the same furniture graced the rooms, although the fabrics changed from time to time.

  Laura turned another page and recognized the little girl in the first picture. It was Laura’s mother, smiling beneath her dark curls and wearing a frilly dress with white shoes. Sitting on the floor near the Buford’s Bluff dollhouse, Sarah clutched a china doll.

  Laura had never seen her mother smile like that, carefree and unfettered by the world’s cares. As Laura glanced up at the beautiful woman in the portrait over the fireplace, she wondered, Why didn’t you help her? You had plenty of money. And why did you inherit everything? Where was my mother’s inheritance? She practically worked herself to death! Laura looked back at the photograph and outlined her mother’s face with her finger. Her gaze wandered across the picture, taking in the bedroom that had once belonged to her mother. Then she remembered why she’d come down to look at these old albums in the middle of the night. The wallpaper. The walls in the photograph were covered with wallpaper in a daisy pattern. The dream! She had seen this same wallpaper in her dream. Calm down, Laura told herself. There has to be a logical explanation.

  But it was too late for that. The adrenaline had already shot through her body, and she felt her heart pounding like a drum in her temples. Her head ached, pain wracked her chest, and she felt nauseous. You’re okay, you’re okay, she told herself over and over, then closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. She knew she wasn’t crazy. There had to be a reason why she dreamed about the room with the vivid wallpaper. Perhaps her mother had shown her a picture of the room and Laura had simply forgotten until now. Maybe when she was a child, her mother had told her about the room, and she just hadn’t consciously thought of it for a while.

  As she felt the comfort that only the Holy Ghost can bring, Laura decided to put the dream—the whole situation—on the back burner and let it simmer. She would console herself with the knowledge that answers often came when she gave up trying to overanalyze everything.

  She put the albums away and walked back up the stairs. As she moved from the stairs into the upstairs hallway, the floorboards in the downstairs foyer creaked, and Laura was sure someone was there. She dashed down the corridor into her room and closed the door, locking it behind her, then stood with her hand on the doorknob. Barely audible footsteps moved down the hall and stopped at her door. Laura held her breath. Then the steps moved away from the door. Perhaps Agnes had gotten up to get a drink of water or something. Laura released a heavy sigh and crawled back into bed, covering her head with the blankets.
r />   9

  On Friday morning, Aaron Farr sat in his office, trying to concentrate on the documents before him, but his mind kept wandering to the woman he’d met the day before. She needed help, and for some reason he felt he was the person to help her. He chuckled as he pictured her taking an enormous bite of the peanut butter sandwich.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Aaron looked up to see his boss, Leonard Davis, standing in the doorway. Leonard had silver hair, and his shrewd eyes were set deep under dark brows that matched his mustache. His gaze cut through Aaron, and his frown let Aaron know he wasn’t in the mood for humor.

  “Uh, just a funny thought,” Aaron replied.

  Leonard grunted. Aaron hadn’t totally figured the man out, even though he’d worked for him for a year. Leonard was judgmental, moralistic, and demanding—sometimes even condescending—making him quite difficult to work for. That said, Aaron appreciated the way his boss patiently hovered over legal papers and never tired of the details. In fact, Leonard’s eagle eye was part of what made him such a brilliant attorney.

  “Have you ever been married, Leonard?” Aaron wasn’t sure why he asked the question now, but he had wondered about the subject for some time.

  A long pause followed. “I fell in love with the law over forty years ago, and my life is devoted to seeing justice served. The New Testament says that love is the fulfilling of the law. That devotion leaves little room for anything else in my life.”

  Once again, Leonard was ready with a handy quote. Though he knew the man had faults, Aaron couldn’t help admiring his loyalty to the law. There had to be something good in a man who took a kid like Aaron from Virginia’s coal-mining region and gave him a scholarship to law school. To top it off, Leonard had offered Aaron a job after graduation. Of course, Leonard benefited as well—for one thing, Aaron was devoted to him and the firm. How could he not be when the firm had invested so much in him?

  “I admire you, Leonard. I hope someday I can be even half the lawyer you are.”

  Aaron saw a rare smile play around Leonard’s lips. The older man replied with obvious pleasure, “Well, you keep up the good work. Keep your nose clean, watch, and learn, and you’ll turn out to be a fine lawyer.”

  Aaron grinned but hesitated momentarily before venturing, “Leonard, do you know of a woman named Laura McClain? She inherited the Buford Place.”

  Leonard’s eyes widened. “Yes, I believe Roger Ballister men­tioned something about an heir from out west somewhere. A young lady, is she?”

  Aaron smiled. “Yes, and pretty.”

  Leonard pulled at his mustache.

  “What’s wrong?” Aaron asked.

  Leonard cleared his throat. “Don’t let beauty blind you, my boy. The Bufords have always been high and mighty. Be careful.” Then Leonard turned and left Aaron’s office.

  I think Mr. Davis just gave me dating advice! Aaron thought. Grabbing the phonebook, he flipped the pages until he found Laura Buford’s number, then dialed. After several rings, a female voice answered with an abrupt, “Buford residence.”

  “Yes, may I please speak to Laura McClain?”

  A long wait followed.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, Laura? This is Aaron Farr.”

  “Yes, thank you for getting back with me,” Laura responded quietly.

  “I feel terrible about lunch yesterday, and I wondered if I could make it up to you.”

  “Oh, no. I’m the one that needs to apologize,” Laura insisted. “The way I ran off—I was just so flustered. I’m not very good at meeting new people, and—”

  “Maybe I could pick you up and drive you to church on Sunday,” Aaron interrupted smoothly. “The meetinghouse is in Lakeside, and it could be hard to find for someone who’s never been there before.”

  There was a long pause. “That’s so nice of you. I mean, yes, that would be wonderful.”

  “I can pick you up around eight thirty,” he added.

  “Okay.”

  They spoke their good-byes, and he hung up the phone. Smiling to himself, Aaron realized he would have never been so bold in college. He hadn’t really felt like he fit in back then. Unlike many of the students at the University of Virginia, he hadn’t come from a well-educated or wealthy family. In fact, his father could barely read and write. His mother worked at a local diner, but she came home every night, fixed dinner, cleaned up after dinner, and read to the family. They didn’t even own a television. Aaron’s mother read the family portions of the newspaper, as well as history books and, when they were lucky, a novel. Lucy Farr’s love for books was what led to the family joining the LDS Church. Some missionaries had stopped by one night with a Book of Mormon, and Lucy had snatched the free book from their hands. Aaron couldn’t explain the family’s initial fascination with the book, but each night they listened as Lucy read about the Nephites and Lamanites. Even Peter, his father, stopped Lucy to ask questions. Aaron was the youngest of three brothers. His older brothers, Jacob and Joseph, were intrigued to find their names come up in the early chapters of the book.

  Finally, Lucy read Moroni’s promise that they would receive a witness of the truth of the Book of Mormon if they prayed about it and sincerely desired to know. They had a family prayer, with Peter saying the prayer. Though he wasn’t an educated man, Aaron’s father was religiously inclined, having been raised in a strict Baptist home.

  Over the next few days, each family member prayed and pondered about the Book of Mormon, and each separately decided to be baptized. The nearest branch was forty miles from their house, but they became active members, and Peter eventually served as a counselor in the branch presidency.

  Lucy and Peter encouraged their sons to acquire a college education, and all three complied. Aaron had won a scholarship at the University of Virginia, but he still had to work to pay for college. He majored in political science, and with the aspiration of getting into politics, he applied to several law schools. Then, like a miracle from heaven, Leonard had offered him a scholarship to attend Washington and Lee Law School in Lexington, Virginia.

  All through his undergraduate years, Aaron felt a little uncomfortable, a bit like a fish out of water, or at least just a kid from rural Virginia. But by the time he finished law school he’d gained confidence in himself, realizing that intelligence and ambition beat money every time. Here in Bufordville, the locals treated him like royalty. He’d dated the few single girls in the ward who were in their twenties, but he didn’t have much in common with them. At any rate, the relationships never lasted longer than a few dates. He wondered if things would be different with Laura McClain.

  Get a grip, he told himself. When did this go from helping a client in need to contemplating a date? For some reason, he felt like a guy who had seen a girl for the first time after having been marooned on a deserted island—and he hoped it wasn’t so obvious to her. After all, he was just offering a new member of the ward a ride to church.

  * * *

  Laura had spent Friday exploring the house and grounds, discovering that the mansion was really a simple two-story design plus a one-story wing. The bottom floor of the house’s central section was made up of four main rooms: two enormous rooms on each side of the twenty-foot wide middle hallway. A door divided the front entrance hall from the back entrance hall, and the front hall was two stories high and dominated by the grand staircase. If visitors failed to be impressed by the two-story columned porch that greeted them upon approaching the house, the elegant entry hall provided a second opportunity.

  On either side of the front entry hall was a parlor furnished with beautiful antiques and adorned with original paintings. The east parlor contained a door on the north side that connected it to the library, and the west parlor had a north door to the dining room. The east parlor, which Agnes referred to as the “grand parlor,” had a door on the east side that led to the solarium. A door on the west side of the dining room exited to a rose garden. Both the dining room and library had
doors to the central hallway.

  Besides the library and dining room, the back hallway led to a bathroom, a cleaning closet, and laundry room to the east. To the west, a fairly wide hallway connected the main house to the west wing. Agnes seemed to control the west wing where the kitchen was located, and Laura had only peered into a room or two. They were empty, and she assumed they had once served as living quarters for the hired help. For a moment Laura wondered why Agnes didn’t sleep in one of these rooms. Then Laura realized that towards the end of her aunt’s life she would have needed someone to keep a close eye on her.

  Upstairs were four large bedrooms and two small bedrooms. The four large bedrooms each contained a bathroom, though two of these had been added in recent years. Each bedroom also featured its own fireplace. Agnes occupied one of the smaller bedrooms. Since Laura’s room had no bathroom, she used the one between Agnes’s room and the next bedroom. Agnes’s room was on the same side of the hall as Laura’s, but nearer to the staircase. Aunt Laura’s room had been directly across the hall from Agnes’s. Laura calculated that the house had approximately twenty-five rooms.

  The stables seemed almost as impressive as the house, though there were no longer horses. Either her aunt had sold them before she died, or Roger had sold them as part of the estate settlement. Laura decided to ask Roger about that later. On the south side of the stables facing the river, there was a huge reception area complete with kitchen and bathrooms. Trees divided the house from the stables, and Agnes had explained that the house had been off limits during large parties. Outdoor activities took place on the lawn west of the stables where the driveway joined a parking lot, and a person couldn’t see the house from the west lawn.

  Laura had spent so much time exploring the house and grounds that she almost forgot about her Friday night plans with Julie. When she finally remembered, she rushed to get ready and quickly drove to Bufordville.

  Located on the edge of town, the Movie House glittered like a palace from a bygone era. The gleaming interior matched the external dazzle: the elegant décor included French tapestry, European-style plaster, and crystal chandeliers. Awed by the theater’s splendor, Laura decided that even the tickets were elegant.