He stepped inside, his eyes drawn to the flash of a fine chain adorning the delicate column of her neck. A silver heart with a small pearl and an even smaller diamond chip rested upon smooth, satiny-looking skin.
She reached up and touched the necklace self-consciously. “Sorry. I didn’t have time to change after church. You’re a little early.”
She’d dressed up for church, not him. He wasn’t disappointed. He wasn’t.
“I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to walk.”
Her cheeks grew rosy as she tried to slip the apron over her head. Unfortunately, she forgot to untie the bow in the back first, and the skirt part got stuck beneath her breasts.
“I offered to drive you,” she reminded him, reaching behind her to undo the bow and then trying again. The apron came off successfully that time, but the gesture generated static, and a few strands of silky chestnut stuck up and out, as if electrified.
“Penny? Did I hear the—oh, hello there. You must be Jaxson.”
An older, more rounded version of Penny came bustling out of the kitchen, exuding the same cheerful energy as her daughter. She looked at Penny, and her eyes widened. In universal motherly fashion, she reached up and smoothed Penny’s hair. Penny’s cheeks grew even rosier.
“I’m Addie, Penny’s mother.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am. Jaxson Adams.”
“Addie,” she corrected. “Please come in. Dinner’s just about ready.”
Penny led him to a small dining room, barely big enough to hold the table, the matching credenza, and a glass-doored hutch. The set was old, most likely passed down from a previous generation.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Penny asked. “Water? Iced tea? Soda?”
“Iced tea, please.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Penny left him alone in the room. He took a moment to look around. Everything looked clean and polished. Handmade doilies. A vase of fresh flowers. Framed pictures on the walls provided a visual history of the Hoffmeier family over the years—from sepia-colored prints that looked more than a hundred years old to a smiling, younger version of Penny in her high school cap and gown.
Four places were set at the dining room table, but only three of those settings had chairs. Jaxson discovered why a moment later when an older man rolled into the room in a wheelchair.
“You must be the young man my wife’s been telling me about.”
Jaxson reached out and shook his hand. “I am.”
“Jim Hoffmeier. Penny’s father.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.”
Penny was soon back with a pitcher of iced tea. After several more trips and refusals when he offered to help, the table was laden with more food than four people could possibly eat in one sitting.
Jaxson waited until both women were seated before taking a seat of his own. Addie and Penny both bowed their heads, so he did the same. While Addie gave the blessing, he caught Penny peeking at him before quickly returning her gaze to her lap.
“Thank you for inviting me to dinner. Everything smells delicious.”
“It’s the least we could do. Penny told us what happened yesterday morning.”
Penny’s cheeks flamed again.
“Mistakes happen,” he said, earning a surprised look from Penny.
“They do. Sometimes, good even comes from them,” Penny’s mother said with a smile.
Bowls and plates were passed. Jaxson took a little of everything.
“So, what brings you to Sumneyville, Jaxson?” Mr. Hoffmeier asked. “Penny said you’re an Army man.”
“MOS 91B,” Jaxson confirmed. “Wheeled vehicle mechanic.”
“Where were you stationed?”
“Most recently, in Serbia.”
“I was in Germany for a while. Stuttgart. Patch. Know it?”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“Medical discharge put an end to that,” Jim said, tapping the arm of his chair with his right palm.
“Same.”
Jim nodded. “Are you headed to Sanctuary?”
Had Jaxson simply listened to Harry, he might have wondered if that was a polite way of asking if he was mentally stable. He’d done some research of his own after getting home from the bar. Based on the information on their website, it was nothing like that, but then again, that wasn’t something they’d advertise. He deferred judgment until he had a chance to find out more.
“No, sir. I’m looking for someone actually.”
“Oh?” Mrs. Hoffmeier commented, sharing a brief glance with Penny.
“Yes. A friend of my father’s,” he said carefully. “My father passed while I was deployed, and I recently found some correspondence among his effects. The postmark was from Sumneyville.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
“What about your mother?”
“Not in the picture,” he said. “Never has been.”
“Oh dear. I really put my foot in it, didn’t I?” Penny’s mother said, embarrassed.
“It’s fine, ma’am. You can’t miss what you never had.”
Addie’s eyes softened in sympathy. Jaxson refused to look over at Penny to see her reaction.
“Well,” Addie said, regaining some of her optimism, “if your father’s friend lives around here, we should be able to help. Everyone knows everyone. What’s his name?”
“Her name actually. Ilsa.”
Addie’s brows pulled together.
Penny, however, was shaking her head. “I don’t know anyone named Ilsa. Do you, Mom?”
“I did once. Ilsa Appelhoff. Her parents owned a bakery in town, but that was a long time ago.”
“About thirty years by chance?” Jaxson asked.
“About that,” Addie mused thoughtfully. She looked at him then. Really looked at him. Her eyes widened slightly, and then she asked, “Jaxson, do you think Ilsa might be your mother?”
Across the table, Penny inhaled sharply.
“That’s what I’d like to find out, ma’am. Do you know where I might find her?”
“Oh. Oh dear,” Addie said, distressed once again. “I’m afraid she passed a long time ago.”
Her words were like a punch to the gut.
“I see.”
“If it helps, I don’t think she could have been your mother. Ilsa only had one child. A daughter.”
The news wasn’t what he’d hoped, but he wasn’t ready to give up. Whoever Ilsa was, she’d been important enough to his father for him to keep her letters. He’d just have to keep digging.
“Where is this bakery?” he asked. “I don’t remember seeing that.”
This time, it was Penny who answered. “It burned down years ago.”
Well, hell. “What about the daughter?”
Penny opened her mouth to say something just as Addie said, “She doesn’t live in Sumneyville anymore. Penny, pass those rolls to your father, please.”
Jaxson didn’t miss the questioning glance Penny shot her mother before clamping her lips shut and handing her father the bowl of buttery rolls.
Mr. Hoffmeier took one and then looked backed to him. “So, Jaxson, what are you going to do now that you’re out of the Army?”