Hidden Talents

efforts.
    “Not bad.” Roland took another bite out of the slice of toast he had slathered with the marmalade. “Reminds me of the kind my mother used to make. Good and tart. Not too sweet. Seems like most things these days are too sweet for my taste.”
    “Isn't that the truth,” Phyllis said with a brittle smile. “Take modern breakfast cereals. Most are so sugary, they taste like candy.”
    Serenity caught Caleb's eye. “That gives me a marketing idea. We'll advertise Ariadne's jams and marmalades as gourmet-style preserves. We'll say they've been especially created for people with sophisticated tastes. What do you think?”
    “It has potential.” Caleb's tone held all the enthusiasm of a ship's captain for an iceberg. He picked up his coffee cup and took a swallow. “Are you packed and ready to leave?”
    “Yes.” So much for trying to get that topic off the ground, Serenity thought. She tried another tactic. “Mr. Ventress, I couldn't help but notice those awards behind you in that glass case.”
    “Caleb won those,” Roland said.
    “Yes, I know. I saw his name on all the plaques. You must be very proud of him.”
    Roland scowled. “Caleb knows what's expected of him. Always did.”
    “I see he was even valedictorian,” Serenity continued with determined good cheer. “I was valedictorian of my high school graduation class, too. I also got voted the student most likely to succeed.”
    Caleb choked slightly on his coffee. He set his cup down quickly.
    Serenity frowned in concern. “Are you all right?”
    “I'm fine.” He got to his feet. “I want to be on the way as soon as possible, Serenity.”
    She looked up, surprised. “But I thought you were going to give me a tour of the stables. I wanted to look at the horses.”
    “Some other time. It's a long drive, and the weather report said there might be snow in the mountains this evening.”
    “Nonsense. It's too early for snow.”
    Caleb looked at her with hooded eyes. “I'd just as soon not have to stop to put on chains if I can avoid it.”
    Serenity stifled a small sigh. “I can be ready in five minutes.”
    “I'll get the luggage.” Caleb moved around the long table.
    “Need any help?” Franklin asked. “Harry's out back. He can give you a hand.”
    “I can handle it.” Caleb walked toward the door.
    Serenity smiled at Roland, whose jaw appeared to have been cast in iron. “Thank you so much for your hospitality, Mr. Ventress. I've certainly enjoyed my stay.”
    “Thank you for your gift,” Roland said. His eyes were on Caleb's back. “I hope you'll be able to visit again sometime.”
    “I'd like that.” Serenity had a sudden thought. “Caleb, don't forget your mother's jewelry case. I think I saw you put it in one of the bureau drawers last night.”
    The atmosphere in the breakfast room, tense but subdued until now, suddenly took on the aura of impending disaster. Dolores froze, tray in hand, in the kitchen doorway. Phyllis's eyes widened in appalled shock. Franklin looked grimmer than ever. Roland did not move.
    It dawned on Serenity that she had just opened her mouth and inserted her foot. That was the problem out here in the outside world, she thought, chagrined. It was too darn easy for someone like her to screw up. She gave Caleb an apologetic look and wondered how to get back out of the hole she had just dug for both of them.
    She was grateful to see that Caleb did not appear at all embarrassed by her social gaffe. There was no sign of any emotion on his face. He halted in the doorway and gave her a thoughtful glance. “Thank you for reminding me. I won't forget to pack it.”
    Phyllis and Franklin exchanged ominous glances.
    Roland had a death grip on his butter knife. “Didn't know you still had that old jewelry case. You've never mentioned it. Thought you must have gotten rid of it years ago.”
    “Good grief, why would Caleb want to do that?” Serenity asked. The damage had been done, she thought. There was no point pretending that she hadn't seen the jewelry box. “He told me it belonged to his mother. It obviously means a great deal to him. He couldn't possibly just throw it away.”
    Phyllis was the first to recover. “Yes, of course. It's just that we never think of Caleb as the sentimental type. Do we, Franklin?”
    “No,” Franklin muttered. “We don't.”
    “That surprises me,” Serenity said, relieved that the conversation was beginning to flow normally again. “I realized that Caleb was