The House that Love Built

Thirty




Owen knew everyone was safe—he could see them all. But what was happening? Why was Brooke yelling?

Hisfirst thought was fire. But when water met him in the entryway, he knew he was dealing with an entirely different problem. He sloshed through water coming into the entryway and followed the noise he heard all the way to the small powder room nearby. Water was shooting straight up from one of the faucets. He squatted down and turned the water under the sink off, but it had apparently been spraying for a while.

“What happened?” Denny walked up beside Owen. After a quick inspection, he said, “Hunter’s the one who worked on that faucet.”

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, Denny.” Hunter picked up the faucet from the floor where it had landed. “The washer was worn out, so I replaced it and—”

“It doesn’t matter, but we need towels—lots and lots of towels.” Owen started pulling down towels from the shelf by the door and throwing them onto the wet floor. “We’ve got to get this water up before we end up having to redo these floors again.” He wiped the sweat from his face with his shirtsleeve. “Hunter, go into the linen closet in the big bathroom down the hall. There’s a big bag of towels in there. I bought new ones to put in all the bathrooms when we were completely done, but I think we’re going to need them now. Hopefully we can keep the water contained to the entryway and hall.”

Brooke was busy keeping the kids back and holding Lauren. “Can we do anything to help?”

“See if you can find any towels in the kitchen.” Owen started mopping up the water with the towels he had, then dumping them into the trash can when they were saturated. Denny disappeared for a few minutes, then returned with a blue plastic storage tub. “For the towels. It’s bigger.” Owen heard Brooke and the kids in the kitchen opening drawers. But there was no sign of Hunter.

“Denny, can you go see what’s taking Hunter so long? If he can’t find the bag, it’s at the very back of the bathroom closet, thrown in the corner. I only have three or four towels that I use on the shelf. We’ll need more than that.”

“Will do.”

Brooke returned with her arms full—two kitchen towels, two rolls of paper towels, and a bag of shop rags. “This is all I can find. I put Lauren in the playpen in the living room. What else can I do?”

Owen sighed, straining to see down the hall toward the entryway, where water still puddled atop his newly sanded and stained floors. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then looked at Brooke. “Apparently the boys can’t find those towels. Can you please go see what the holdup is? They are in plain sight in the back left corner, inside a gray shopping bag.”

“Sure.”



Brooke held Meghan’s hand with Spencer close behind as they sloshed through the water in the entryway, making their way toward the full bath next to Owen’s bedroom. Meghan and Spencer lingered behind as Brooke entered the large bathroom. She loved the claw-foot tub and portable shower unit Owen had installed, and the new tile and countertops managed to look both vintage and up-to-date.

“Owen needs the towels. Did you find them? A big bag at the—”

She stopped, confused. Hunter stood in the middle of the floor holding a few towels in his hand. Denny tossed the big shopping bag of towels from inside the closet where he was standing. It was a sizable closet for a house this old, big enough to walk in about four steps. Denny and Hunter were both staring at the floor.

“Better go get Owen,” Denny said, hands on his hips.

“And hurry!” Hunter added. “Tell him we found the bunker.”

Brooke’s heart began to race as Spencer pushed past her. “Where?” he asked. “Where?”

Denny pointed to the floor, and Brooke edged closer. “I don’t see anything.” Spencer was stepping on everyone’s toes as he inched closer as well. Brooke gently grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him back. “Just wait, Spence.”

Denny squatted down about the time Owen came rushing into the bathroom.

“Hello? Anyone got the towels?” He threw his hands up in frustration as he spotted the bag in the middle of the floor. “And what is everyone doing in the closet?”

Meghan pulled on his pant leg. “Mr. Denny found the bunker.”

“What?” Owen poked his head in where they were all standing. “Are you kidding? Because I’ve still got water in the entryway.”

Denny motioned with his hand for everyone to stand back. “See how the wood grain here is just a little different from the rest of the flooring?” He rubbed his hand along the seams. “Here’s two little holes, and I’m thinking there was a handle here at one time. It’s really hard to see, though. You’d have to know what to look for.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t.” Owen peered down at the floor, squinting. “Are you sure?”

Denny groaned as he stood up. “We’ll have to get a screwdriver or something and pry it open to know for sure. But I’ve got a pretty strong feeling about this.”

“Oh man, oh man, oh man.” Spencer’s eyes were round as saucers.

“Okay, let’s clean the water up as best we can, then we’ll check it out.” Brooke left the bathroom with the bag of towels. As she hoped, they all followed.

Brooke had never seen a group sop up water as quickly as they all did, dumping all the wet towels into the plastic storage tub to worry about later. Then everyone followed Owen back to the closet and stood outside the small space while Owen gathered up several pairs of shoes, a set of golf clubs, and two duffel bags. He handed the items to Hunter, who put them in the bedroom.

Denny then squeezed in beside Owen and handed him a screwdriver while everyone else stood in the bathroom, heads poking inside the closet. “I think if you pry it up right where those two holes are, it will open.”

Everyone went silent as Owen lifted a section of the floor. Grabbing it with two hands, he nodded to Denny to step out of the closet, then he laid the door back. The opening in the floor was about two feet by two feet. Brooke had Spencer by the shirtsleeve but barely managed to hold him back.

“Need a flashlight.” Owen pointed at Hunter. “There’s one in the kitchen, second drawer from the stove.”

Hunter sprinted out of the room.

Owen smiled at Spencer. “Looks like you’re going to get your secret bunker after all.”

“This is so cool.” Spencer tried to edge closer, but Brooke kept a firm hold on his sleeve. “I said wait. We don’t know what’s down there.” Brooke’s heart was racing, and she found herself moving closer as well.

Only Meghan stayed patiently in the background. She was afraid of the dark, and Brooke knew she wouldn’t be in any big hurry to venture down into that hole.

Footsteps pounded in the hallway, then Hunter appeared with the flashlight. Owen switched it on and shined the light down the opening.

Hunter gasped. “Staircase! Who’s going first?”

Brooke could feel Spencer actually trembling.

Owen pushed his arm farther down the hole and shined the light in a circular motion. “I’ll go down first. We don’t know what’s down there or if it’s safe.” He turned around and held each step with one hand on his way down, since there was no handrail, shining the flashlight below him with the other.

“Be careful, Owen.” Brooke let go of Spencer so he could move closer now, and she brought a hand to her chest, her heart still pounding.

“Don’t anyone come down here until I say it’s okay.” Owen paused, his head even with the floor now as he spoke to Brooke. “Listen for Lauren, okay?”

“I will. Just be careful.”

Brooke decided to quickly check on Lauren, who still slept soundly. When she returned, Denny, Hunter, and Spencer were all on their hands and knees, staring down into the darkness.

“Well?” Denny called out to Owen.

Brooke moved in closer and knelt down with the others. They were so close together, their heads were lightly touching.

“We’re going to need more light, but you guys are not going to believe this.”

“What? What?” Spencer’s voice practically squeaked with excitement. “Owen, can I come down?” He looked up at Brooke. “Please, Mom. You’ve got to let me go down there!”

“No. You wait until Owen says it’s safe.” Brooke heard the baby cry. She leaned down toward the flickering light from below. “Owen, I’ve got to go check on Lauren. Do not let Spencer or Meghan down there until you know it’s safe.”

“Okay.”

Brooke hurried to Lauren and picked her up. She stopped crying right away, and Brooke quickly determined she just needed a diaper change. It wasn’t time for her to eat yet, so Brooke changed her and then rocked her a little in the new rocking chair the men had picked out. Sighing, Brooke held the infant against her chest, enjoying the feel of this tiny person against her, but also wondering what was happening in Owen’s bathroom. She knew Owen would keep her children safe, just as she was making sure Lauren was taken care of.

When the baby finally drifted to sleep, Brooke laid her back in the portable playpen and rushed to join the others. Her heart skipped a beat when she found no one in the bathroom—not even Meghan. She peeked into the closet, where a glowing light shone from the hole in the floor.

“Are you all okay?”

“Yes!” Spencer yelled from below.

“Hurry!” Meghan squealed. “Come see.”

Brooke carefully made her way down the steps and turned to find herself in a long narrow room, maybe twenty feet by ten feet. The flashlight beam bounced off concrete walls. Metal shelves lined the walls, stocked with dusty canned goods, an old radio, boxes that had been chewed at the corners, lanterns, and what looked to be an old generator. Two dusty shotguns leaned in the corner.

“Stay away from those guns.” Brooke latched onto both Meghan’s and Spencer’s arms.

Spencer tried to wiggle free. “What’s that?” He pointed to a chest on the shelf, and Owen shined the light on it as they all moved forward.

“Maybe it’s full of gold, like from pirates or something!” Spencer leaned closer.

Owen brushed away dirt from atop the chest, which indeed did look like a miniature pirate’s chest—about two feet long and a foot deep. “It’s locked.” He stuck the flashlight between his arm and waist, keeping the light on the box, and picked it up. “Doesn’t weigh much.”

Brooke jumped and Meghan screamed when Owen’s flashlight went dim for a few seconds. He banged it on his hand, but the effort only brought a trickle of light. “This flashlight is about done.” He motioned toward the ladder. “Let’s all get out of here before we don’t have any light.”

They clustered around the staircase, but Denny lagged behind, holding a lit cigarette lighter above one of the boxes on the shelf. “Books. Lots and lots of books. Fantastic.”

Owen hurried Denny along. Once everyone but Owen had made it back up the stairs into the bathroom, he handed up the trunk and climbed out as well.

They all hurried to the living room. Owen set the trunk down on the coffee table, then hurried over to the playpen.

“She’s still breathing,” he whispered to Brooke when he returned. She just smiled, remembering those moments of watching her children sleep when they were babies.

Hunter was fiddling with the lock. “I think we’re gonna have to break this thing.”

“Brilliant minds think alike.” They looked up to see Denny in the doorway, a hammer in his hand.

It took a few swings, but the lock eventually broke. They all gathered close as Owen removed the fragments of lock and reached to open the trunk.

Travis breezed into Brooke’s mind momentarily. He’d always been fascinated by the idea of a bunker in the Hadley mansion, and he would have loved to be here. But he wasn’t here, and Brooke realized she could accept that. God was in charge, and there could be no regrets right now. Just hope for the future.

Owen carefully lifted the lid of the trunk, and they all crowded closer to see inside.

“Doesn’t look like pirates’ gold to me.” Spencer shrugged as Owen lifted a handful of folded papers.

Owen picked up one of the unsealed envelopes. “Letters.” He flipped through a few. “Letters between Adeline and John Hadley.”

“That’s it?” Spencer let out an exasperated gasp. “Just a bunch of letters? That’s not a treasure.”

Denny was still flipping through them. “The oldest is postmarked 1938. Some are from San Antonio. Lots of ’em from John in Smithville to Adeline in San Antonio, but some from her to him. And a few of them are addressed to John in the service. This one is still sealed.”

“Adeline was from San Antonio. She must have written those letters to John while they were courting.” Brooke was lost in the past, picturing that long-ago love story playing out through the mail. Then she thought about Adeline’s letter to the attorney. “All my worldly treasures are of the heart and buried beneath this house that love built.” But I wonder why she didn’t take them when she left.

Meghan walked to the playpen, clearly bored with the treasure. “Can I hold Lauren, Mommy? She’s awake.”

Brooke scooped up Lauren, who was yawning. “Sit down on the couch, and I’ll give her to you.” She eased the baby into Meghan’s arms. “Can you sit here and hold her while I go get her bottle ready?”

When Brooke returned, Owen, Hunter, and Denny had each pulled out one of the letters and were reading them back and forth to one another. “What are you guys doing?” They all looked up with wide-eyed innocence. “Those letters aren’t ours to read. They belong to Mr. Hadley, and we need to take them to him.”

She walked to the couch and handed the bottle to Meghan. “Only this much, then we need to burp her, plus she probably needs her diaper changed.”

She turned back to the men. Hunter and Owen were stuffing their letters back in the envelopes, but Denny was still reading. He wore a pair of black glasses she hadn’t seen before.

Brooke scowled at him and cleared her throat, but Denny held up one finger and didn’t look up.

“She’s right, Uncle Denny.” Owen stood up from where he was sitting on the floor and looked down at the chest on the coffee table. “These aren’t ours to read.”

Denny pulled off the glasses slowly, then looked up at Owen from his spot on the floor. “Well, well. Our heroine in this story, Mrs. Adeline Hadley, was pregnant when she fled town. Listen to this. It’s postmarked November 1942.” Denny put his glasses back on and read the letter out loud. Brooke was too curious to tell him not to.

“’My dearest John, With each passing day, my heart grows heavier, and I pray that God will send you home to me. I wonder if you will ever know that we are with child, since all of my letters with mention of it have been returned. I pray this one will reach you. As my womb grows, so does my despair. I was so happy the day I got the news. I thought our dreams for a family would finally come true. But you are somewhere in the Pacific, far from my arms, and I can’t help but worry if I’ll ever see you again.

“’Forgive me my fears, my love. But I have tried so hard to be cheerful, to put on a good face, when all the while my heart is breaking. I wander around this big house you built for us, longing for you to return to me and this precious little one who is growing inside me. My days are long, my nights even longer. Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night, reach for you, then remember that you aren’t there.’”

Brooke swallowed hard as she thought about how many times she’d done that exact same thing. The room was silent as Denny went on.

“’My hired man helps me with the garden and repairs on the house, trying his best to keep it tended until your return. I reckon that without him this place would be as run-down as many others whose owners are off to war. I don’t know what I’d do without Jesse Lewis. He feels bad that the army wouldn’t take him, but he is doing true service here on the home front. I know you will want to shake his hand when you return—and that must be soon, my love. I want to be strong, but some days it’s very hard.

“’So come home to me, John. Be brave—I know you can’t be anything else—but remember you are needed here as well and be careful. Our child needs a father. And I need my husband. Your loving wife, Adeline.’”

Brooke took Lauren from Meghan’s arms and put her on her shoulder to burp as she fought the tears building in her eyes. She never knew he returned for her after all.

Owen paced the living room, shaking his head. “There was no mention of the pregnancy in Adeline’s letter to the attorney. John Hadley never knew he had a child.”

Denny stuffed the letter back in the envelope. “That’s how it appears. But Brooke’s right. These all belong to John Hadley, as bittersweet as it is. Didn’t you tell me when I first moved in that he was still alive? That’s pretty amazing in itself.”

“I don’t know Mr. Hadley personally, but he lives in the same retirement place where my Mom was.” Brooke gently patted Lauren on the back. “Mom said he pretty much kept to himself—he’s in his nineties, after all—but they knew each other to say hello. She said there was such a big production when he returned after the war; he was treated like quite the war hero. But as things settled down, he kind of withdrew into himself. Just ran his business, never talked much about himself or the war. Or Adeline.”

“Is he strong enough to hear about all of this, do you think?”

“I don’t know, but I can find out. I think we need to give him the letters, though. There might still be time for him to connect with some of his family. Oh, and, Owen, I think Lauren needs a diaper change. Where do you keep the fresh ones?”

He hurried out of the room while Hunter and Denny began packing the letters back into the trunk. Meghan was now lying on the couch, seemingly bored with the happenings around her. Even Spencer was yawning. Brooke knew this wasn’t the type of treasure he’d been hoping for.

But family really was a true treasure, wasn’t it? Love was a treasure. Brooke scanned the room and realized she was seeing riches in abundance. Even Scooter, the black cat, seemed aware of it. He’d taken to staying in the house and was curled up in the far corner.

Hunter crossed his ankles and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “Man, that’s one pitiful story.” He yawned as he stretched his legs out farther. “Funny, I think my great-grandma and grandpa was named Adeline and Jesse.”

Brooke glanced at Owen and Denny, who seemed to be holding their breath the way she was. “Hunter, do you know where your great-grandparents lived?”

Shifting his weight in the chair, Hunter yawned again. “Yeah. I remember Dad talking about his grandpa, but he died real young, before I was born. He said I came from a long line of boys, no girls.” He shrugged. “Anyway, they lived in Wichita Falls, Texas, way up there close to Oklahoma. Dad even grew up there, but then he moved to Austin and met my mom, and she was from La Grange. Don’t know why they ended up in Smithville, though, except that Grandma lived—”

“Son?” Denny had walked over to Hunter and was looking down at him. “Are you not putting this together?”

Hunter sat up straight, a confused expression on his face. “What?”

Denny leaned closer. “For a sharp kid, you’re not acting too bright. If Adeline Hadley was pregnant with John Hadley’s baby and ended up in Wichita Falls, and if her hired man—Jesse Lewis—disappeared too, don’t you think it’s possible that Adeline and Jesse Lewis are the same ones talked about in these letters?”

Hunter crinkled his brow. “You mean—”

“Yup. You could be John Hadley’s great-grandson.”