Wrapped Up In Christmas

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Wrapped Up In Christmas Page 4

by Janice Lynn


  After only a moment’s obvious disappointment, Harry laid down on the rug, looking up at his owner with obedient, loving eyes.

  Bodie glanced around the foyer of Hamilton House. He took in the curve near the top of the staircase with its beautiful walnut handrail and top-to-bottom antique runner down the center of the wooden steps, the gleaming hardwood floor, and the ornately trimmed ceiling with its decades-old chandelier. His gaze paused at the three photos on the stair wall—a black and white of Uncle Roy’s parents at their wedding, a black and white of Aunt Jean and Uncle Roy on their wedding day, and one of Sarah as a snaggle-toothed little girl. Sarah had complained that the photo needed to be updated, but Aunt Jean had insisted she could only replace it with a black and white wedding photo.

  That goofy picture would probably be there as long as the house stood.

  The foyer was the showpiece of the house. Always had been. Pride filled Sarah as she watched Bodie’s eyes fill with appreciation of the room.

  An appreciation she hoped each guest would feel when they visited Hamilton House.

  “I had the floors redone and the paint freshened,” she said, unable to hold in her excitement, “but otherwise, this is how this room has looked since the house was first built.”

  Even when her aunt’s financial situation had worsened, she’d kept this room pristine, knowing that it was the first thing a visitor would see and that it would shape their opinion of the house. It was also the threshold Aunt Jean’s beloved groom had once carried her over the first time she’d entered the house as his wife.

  “Well, except for the light fixture,” she corrected, eying the intricate metal and crystal chandelier. “I know it’s old, but I’m not positive it’s the original fixture or if it was added at some point. And obviously, the photos are newer additions. But otherwise, this is Hamilton House as it should be.” She spread her arms and slowly turned. “This is what I want to restore the rest of the house to.”

  Chapter Three

  Feeling as if he shouldn’t touch anything—and maybe that he shouldn’t even be inside the house—Bodie took in each room.

  No doubt, Hamilton House had been a showplace in its day, and Sarah was intent on returning it to its former glory. Her pride and love for the place oozed from every pore. The fact that she belonged here did, too.

  After the terrible places he’d been, this old house, and Sarah’s connection to it, seemed an oddity. That anyone could be so caught up in a house, could so obviously belong within its walls, fascinated Bodie.

  Or maybe it was Sarah who fascinated him.

  She didn’t wear a wedding band, or any jewelry save a gold chain around her neck. The attached pendant was hidden under her collar.

  “You’re doing this by yourself?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve had an architect, contractors, electricians, plumbers, floor people, roof people, pest control people, the Historical Society, painters, and dozens of others giving their input or working. I can’t take credit for much of the actual labor. My home restoration skills are minimal at best.” She gave him an impish smile. “Mostly, I’m overseeing things.”

  He’d wanted to know whether or not she had a husband or significant other to help her. Still, she’d answered his question.

  “Why?”

  Her warm brown gaze met his. “This was my aunt’s home. I spent a lot of time here while growing up.” A faraway look settled onto her face as she continued. “Later in life, she dreamed of turning the house into a bed and breakfast so it would be filled with love and laughter and people again. When she died, she left me the house and her dream.”

  Things and places didn’t matter too much to Bodie. He’d moved a lot as a kid and had found it easier not to get attached. Just being inside four walls was enough to make him antsy. Sarah Smith didn’t seem to suffer from that malady. She was invested in this house and in her aunt’s vision.

  What did that even feel like? To be so attached to a place?

  “Fulfilling that dream is my legacy.”

  He nodded as if he understood. In truth, he couldn’t help but stare at her, wondering at how different their lives had been.

  Glancing around the kitchen, she changed the subject. “I’ve finished this room. Don’t you love it? I tried to modernize without taking away the charm from the past.”

  She’d done a good job. The room looked like something off one of those television home remodel shows he’d watched while laid up in bed month after month.

  “All the appliances are new.” She looked around the room, delight lighting her pretty face. “Well, most everything in this room is new. I was able to use the cabinets—I just reinforced them so I could replace the countertops with granite and put a coat of paint over them. I had the new sinks put in and the island built with the extra sink, oven, and the commercial dishwasher.”

  Her pleasure in the room coated every word.

  “Someday, I hope to be able to cater to ten guests at a time. Can’t you just see them sitting around on the opposite side of the island and in the breakfast nook?” She gestured to a hexagonal area with multiple long windows and a built-in bench that ran the entire length of the outer walls of the nook. Dark gray drawstring curtains topped each window. The table was shaped the same as the room and fit the area perfectly. “They’ll fill the space with energy and conversation while I cook them breakfast.”

  Her voice was so dreamily content, Bodie’s gaze cut to her rather than the cozy area she’d created. He couldn’t recall having ever met someone so idealistic, so a part of their surroundings, so full of dreams.

  “They’ll be drinking coffee or hot cocoa, a few reading the paper, catching up on world news. The whole house will smell of whatever is baking in the oven. Christmas music will be playing in the background and there will be a garland with lights over the cabinets. I’ll have a big Christmas tree over there.”

  A soft sigh escaped her mouth. Bodie couldn’t keep his gaze from dropping to her pink lips.

  Quickly, he looked away.

  That was not why he was here. Not even close.

  He was there to thank Sarah. Not to complicate her life, or his, by noticing how pretty she was or how being near her made him excited to be a small part of the restoration, to play a small role in making her dream come true.

  “This room and the living room are done.” She ran her finger along the neutral gray and white granite with its subtle flecks of black. “But, in addition to my room, there are two downstairs suites and neither of them are even close to ready to receive guests.”

  “That’s what you need me to do? Get those suites ready?”

  Still lost in her vision of the house, she nodded.

  “Let’s see them so I can make sure what you need is within my skills.”

  When they stepped into the first suite, Bodie frowned. “Who started the remodel?”

  Sarah’s forehead wrinkled. “Which time?”

  Bodie gave her a dubious look. “What happened?”

  She didn’t meet his eyes. “The last one quit.”

  “Because?”

  Pink stained her cheeks. “Because of me.”

  Her expression was so flustered, Bodie could only imagine what had happened. “He fell for you and you had to let him go?”

  Eyes wide, Sarah laughed. “The only falling he did was off the ladder in his hurry to get away from me. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough after I yelled at him for dribbling paint all over the newly-refinished hardwood floors.”

  “There’s plastic taped down to protect the floors,” Bodie pointed out, not mentioning that she should’ve had the painting completed prior to getting the floors refinished. Why hadn’t someone told her that?

  “There is now. But on that day, there wasn’t anything protecting the floor. It took me several hours to clean up the paint splatter.” She closed
her eyes as if to erase the memory. “I put the plastic down because I wasn’t risking that happening again.”

  Maybe it was her Christmas sweater and hair ribbon, but the woman personified good cheer and he had a difficult time imaging her being upset with anyone, the painter included.

  Thanking whatever fate had put him in the right place at the right time that he could do this for her, he asked, “You have furniture to go in here?”

  “I had what’s left of my aunt’s things moved into my father’s garage before the hardwood floors were redone.” She gestured to a far wall that had a new, unframed doorway cut into it. “That is going to be a bathroom, as there’s only one bathroom in the whole house. Even that was high tech for the time the house was built. However, it won’t be enough for a bed and breakfast.”

  He walked over to the cut-out doorway, then entered the dark room. The room was framed. Plumbing and electric wiring had been started. But that was it. No walls covering the framing two-by-fours, and there was no tub, vanity or sink, and no toilet. Nothing but the ceiling, the exposed walls, and the rough plywood floors.

  It was decent-sized for a bathroom. He suspected the bathroom for the other bedroom was on the other side of one of the walls. No doubt a small room had been cut up to make the extra bathrooms.

  Bodie tallied how long it would take him, adding in extra time for unexpected things that would likely arise. He should be able to finish what Sarah needed in her time frame.

  “I can do the work.”

  Her eyes brightened. “Really? You can finish everything? The electrical and plumbing, too?”

  “Nah,” he couldn’t resist saying.

  Her lips parted. “Oh?”

  One side of his mouth hiked up. “I’m kidding, Sarah. Check my references. I haven’t done this kind of work in a while, but everything you need is within my capabilities. If you want me, I’m your man.”

  “I heard your fella had dinner over at Lou’s place and then checked into the Pine Hill Motel.”

  “He’s not my fella,” Sarah insisted as she, Maybelle, Rosie, Ruby, and Claudia sorted through the ornaments they’d made the day before, checking for any that needed a touch-up, prior to working on that day’s batch.

  Memories of the afternoon before hit. She hadn’t expected Bodie’s half-smile or how her heart had thundered at the expression, and at the fact he’d teased her.

  At his promise that if she wanted him, he was her man.

  “Well, technically, he is,” she added, correcting herself. “He started at Hamilton House this morning.”

  “You left him there alone?” Claudia asked, sounding surprised Sarah wasn’t standing over him with an eagle eye.

  “I didn’t babysit the other handymen. Why would I with him?” she asked. “Besides, there aren’t any family jewels for him to take off with. If there ever had been, they’d be long gone by now.”

  “His references checked out?”

  He’d given two and they had both answered her questions about him with enthusiasm and without hesitation. One had been a handyman who’d employed him years ago, and another was the owner of a security company who had hired him to start work in the new year.

  “They couldn’t sing his praises loudly enough. The owner of Steve’s Home Repairs says there’s not much he can’t do and do well. Actually, he said Bodie was the best help he’s ever had, and he’d take him back in a heartbeat.” Good. She needed Bodie Lewis to be the world’s greatest handyman. “Apparently, he’s been military and is just back to civilian life.”

  At least, that’s what the owner of the security company had told her. They’d served in the Army together. Recalling how Brody had looked when he’d entered the community room the day before, she had to admit the military background fit.

  “Mr. Lewis seemed like an honest enough fellow, but he’s not from around here,” Maybelle said.

  A big no-no in all the older women’s eyes, as they claimed Pine Hill men were built better than others—or maybe it was just Ruby who claimed that last part?

  “Just be careful,” Maybelle continued. “Don’t be too trusting.”

  “Or loosen the reins to your heart too quick.”

  Taken aback, Sarah turned toward Ruby. “Pardon?”

  “Not every man can be like my Charlie.” She giggled, fluffed her dyed red hair, then continued. “Actually, no man can be as good as my Charlie, but be sure this guy is a good one before you give away your heart.”

  Sarah choked back a laugh. “Not that I’m interested in anyone who can have an entire conversation without a single smile, but I think I’m safe. He didn’t seem overly interested, either.”

  Now why had she said that? She wasn’t giving her heart to Bodie Lewis, or any man in the near future. What did it matter if he’d looked interested or not?

  Realizing the women were suspiciously quiet, Sarah glanced around the table. The four older women exchanged a look that spelled trouble.

  “What?” Sarah asked. “He didn’t smile. Not once.” But that wasn’t quite true. She remembered his half-smile again.

  Silence met her as the women were exchanging silent communications that came from decades of friendship.

  “Surely you noticed?” Sarah persisted, not liking that she was the subject of those looks. She might not have been around since the inception of the Butterflies, but she’d known these women all her life. She could feel their Cupid pings shooting her way as surely as if they pricked her skin.

  Didn’t they realize they were wasting their time? Her life experiences served as a pretty good shield. Experiences that included her runaway ex, Hamilton House, and money woes. The last thing she needed was a man distracting her.

  Averting her gaze, she went back to studying a plastic canvas snowflake.

  “I was busy noticing other things,” Rosie said with a waggle of her drawn-on eyebrows, breaking the silence.

  “I noticed—his lack of smile and the things Rosie is referring to.” Maybelle held up an ornament and gestured toward Sarah. “I wondered what had dimmed his inner light, because that man has powerhouse potential. It makes me want to know why he isn’t a beacon.”

  Sarah blinked at Maybelle. The woman always saw too much. Sarah would swear that at any point in her life when she was struggling with something, Maybelle had known from one look that something was wrong.

  She and Aunt Jean had both read Sarah like a book.

  She supposed she should be grateful Maybelle hadn’t outright asked Bodie to tell her his life story and then, if she approved, asked if he was single.

  But now that Maybelle had brought up the idea, it nagged at Sarah. Had something bad happened to him? Or had he always been someone who didn’t have happiness? Not everyone did, unfortunately. Sad when his handsome face appeared to have been made for smiling. Would a full smile reach his blue eyes? Light up his whole being? Calm the storm she’d sensed brewed just beneath the surface?

  Why was she obsessing over wanting to see a total stranger smile?

  “Maybe he needs you to give him a reason to shine,” Claudia added.

  “I’ll get Charlie to talk to him,” Ruby offered. “He can put him on the right path for you, brighten him up a bit.”

  The thought of seventy-year-old Charlie having “a talk” with Bodie had Sarah shaking her head and staring at the women.

  If she wasn’t careful, the Butterflies would have Bodie doing more than repairing Hamilton House. They were all Cupid wannabes who needed to have their wings clipped. Good thing she had sense enough to not get caught up in their shenanigans.

  “Perhaps y’all are forgetting, or just indulging in wishful thinking, but I placed a help-wanted ad, not a singles ad. Mr. Lewis is looking for work, not someone to put a smile on his face, light his beacon, or make a match for him,” Sarah reminded. “I am just thankful he happened through Pine Hi
ll and saw my ad.”

  “No one just happens through Pine Hill.”

  Sarah frowned. Ruby was right. Pine Hill was off the beaten path.

  “I should ask him how it was he ended up in our tiny neck of the woods,” she said.

  “You definitely should. He could be a serial killer on the run,” Claudia suggested, tucking a loose strand of gray hair behind her ear.

  Maybelle rolled her eyes. “He’s not.”

  Something in the way Maybelle said the words so confidently had Sarah asking, “How do you know that?”

  “I had Sheriff Roscoe run his tags,” Maybelle said matter-of-factly, as if it was no big deal.

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” Maybelle didn’t so much as bat an eyelash, just kept on sorting through the ornaments and placing the ones that passed inspection carefully into a box that would be stored until the day of the Christmas festival.

  The woman never ceased to amaze Sarah. Outside of doing something illegal, Sarah couldn’t imagine Sheriff Roscoe, or anyone, ever telling Maybelle no. When the town matriarch said to jump, most people asked how high.

  “Dare I even ask how you got his tag number?”

  Maybelle glanced at Rosie who beamed with pride, rather than guilt.

  Oh, good grief, what had they done?

  She could just see them donning black clothes and ski masks, stalking Bodie. They could probably tell her his shoe size and what he’d had for breakfast, too.

  Rosie’s chin tilted a little higher than usual as she said, “You might recall Lou had that fancy security system installed at the diner a few years ago. Seems his cameras pick up all kinds of things in his parking lot.”

  They’d gotten Lou in on their investigative action? The big-hearted restaurateur didn’t seem the Sherlock Holmes type. Poor Lou. There was no telling what Rosie had done to get him involved.

  Eyebrow arched, she asked, “Things like Bodie’s license plate?”

  Rosie nodded. “Pulled the recordings right up on his phone and there it was, clear as a bell.”

  “Why would Lou pay any attention to Bodie’s truck?” Sarah’s head spun as she processed what the women had been up to.

 

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