Chapter 2

“Oh, my! That looks absolutely stunning,” Mrs. Gregory gushed as she stood back admiring the new finish on her fireplace. “The cherry stain really does make it look brand new again.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Reid Perry replied with a polite smile, wiping his hands off on a stain covered towel.

“Like it?” I love it! Oh, wait until Allen gets home and sees this,” the older woman continued. “I just can’t take my eyes off of it.” She stood with her head propped up on her fist, the other arm crossed against her bright red sweater. With her white hair, Reid couldn’t help but think she looked a little like Mrs. Claus. “Now, come on into the kitchen and let me fix you a cup of tea while you get that varnish washed off.”

“Oh, Mrs. Gregory, thank you,” Reid began, “but that’s really not necessary. I don’t want to get stain in your sink.”

“Now, don’t you protest,” the agile little woman stopped him, waving her hand and pulling slightly on his arm. “You come on into the kitchen. I just frosted my first batch of Christmas cookies, and I insist you be the first to sample them.”

Seeing that there was no use in arguing, Reid surveyed his work area, making sure everything was cleaned up and that his tool kit was ready to go as soon as Mrs. Gregory was done making a fuss, and followed her into the kitchen.

The smell of fresh baked sugar cookies was even stronger in here, and he couldn’t help but think back to memories of his own grandmother’s quaint little kitchen in Billings, Montana, which may has well have been a million miles from where he stood now.

Mrs. Gregory directed him to the sink. “Now, this cleaner is my grandfather’s secret recipe,” she said, stooping to pull a small container from a nearby cabinet. Unscrewing the lid, she set the substance down next to his elbow. “It’ll get off anything.”

Reid looked at the white goo a bit questioningly as the warm water poured over his hands. While he had plenty of soaps at home that would easily remove the cherry-colored stain from his hands, he decided to go ahead and humor the woman and gave her family formula a try. To his surprise, not only did it take the stain right off, it also smelled nice, like lilacs.

“How do you take your tea?” Mrs. Gregory asked from the island behind him as Reid dried his hands on the towel she’d provided.

“Oh, just sugar, thank you,” he replied, turning to face her. She had already plated two of her fresh sugar cookies, one shaped like Santa, complete with red hat and white beard made of powdered sugar frosting, and the other a bright green Christmas tree.

As Reid took a seat on a barstool across from her, Mrs. Gregory dropped two lumps of sugar into his tea cup and gave it a swirl. “Here you go, dear,” she said sliding it across to him. “Now, be honest about my Christmas cookies. The grandkids are coming to visit for Christmas, and I want to make sure my recipe is up to snuff before they get here.”

Reid took a bite from the Christmas tree and could hardly contain the “mmmm” that wanted to slip from his lips. The cookie was so light, it practically melted in his mouth, and the sweetness of the frosting was perfectly accented by the vanilla essence in the cookie itself. “These are unbelievable,” he gushed, swallowing it down. “I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything this good.”

Mrs. Gregory’s face was beaming. “I’m so delighted to hear that,” she replied. “Last year, my batch got second place in the Christmas baking contest at our church’s festival. This year, I am determined to reclaim the blue ribbon.”

“Well, I don’t think there’s any way in the world you’ll come in second this year,” Reid assured her, taking another bite. “They’re like little pieces of heaven.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Gregory smiled, letting out a sigh. “I’m so happy you and that sweet Michael of yours decided to make Charles Town your new home. We have needed a good handyman for so long, and that little fella of yours is just precious.”

Even though his primary work had been with a building firm in Billings, he had been restoring old houses off and on for over fifteen years if he counted the work he’d done with his father starting in high school, so while being referred to as a handyman was not quite a compliment, considering he had his master’s degree in architecture, he knew that she meant well. “I really appreciate that,” Reid said, with a smile.

“You know, you really should come to church tomorrow night,” she continued. “The children are starting work on the musical, and I bet Michael would just love to get up on that stage and flash that winning smile. He’s such a little heartbreaker, just like his father.”

Reid felt his face redden at the compliment. “Well, thank you, Mrs. Gregory,” he managed, realizing she was in no way attempting to flirt or say anything inappropriate. Still, the thought of church was one he wasn’t willing to entertain at that point in his life, despite the fact that he knew Michael would love getting up on stage, as well as all of the attention he was sure to get from Mrs. Gregory and her friends. “Maybe some other time. We still have a lot of work to do on the house.”

Mrs. Gregory nodded, as if she were willing to let it go—for now. “I’m so glad you bought the old Kensington place. It’s such a nice house. Just needs some love.”

“I agree,” he nodded. Taking on a project as big as the old Gothic Revival structure was just what he had needed to distract himself from the painful memories that tended to fill his mind whenever it was left unoccupied for even a few moments, and while spending time with Michael was his priority whenever he wasn’t working, a five-year-old could only stay up so late. It was the evening quiet that left his mind lingering and returning to a time he need not dwell on.

He realized Mrs. Gregory was still talking, and though he’d missed the first part, he nodded when he heard her say, “The railing on the staircase needs tightening, and I’m certain that branch that’s scraping the roof has done some damage.”

“I should be able to get to those things in the next couple of weeks,” he assured her, running a hand through his sandy blond hair. He spied the time on the clock behind her and realized that it was nearly 4:30. “Speaking of Michael,” he said, wiping his hands on a napkin and looking around for the trash container, “I need to go get him from Ms. Karen’s.”

“Oh, Karen is so good with the little ones,” Mrs. Gregory smiled. “Would you like to take him a cookie?”

“Sure,” Reid replied, finding the trash can and disposing of his napkin.

“I’ll get that,” Mrs. Gregory said, nodding at his dishes. She crossed to the cupboards, and as she pulled one of the doors open, the hinge let go, leaving it hanging. “Oh, fiddle.”

“Let me help you with that,” Reid said, rushing to her side and grabbing hold of the door before it fell. She let go, and he examined the hinge. “That’s an easy fix, but I’ll need to get a new hinge.”

Mrs. Gregory shook her head. “This old place is going to come falling down around me,” she laughed. She took a small plastic container with a lid from the shelf, and Reid managed to get the broken door shut.

“Just don’t open it again until I can get back to fix it,” he cautioned.

“Oh, we hardly use that one,” she said as she crossed to the center island and selected three cookies to place in the container for Michael.

“I can stop by tomorrow and fix it for you,” Reid said, turning to face her.

“That would be just lovely,” Mrs. Gregory smiled. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you! Allen can’t tell a hammer from a screwdriver, and our son lives all the way up in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. You really are a lifesaver.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Reid assured her with a smile, taking the cookies from her as she patted him on the arm and beamed up at him in glee. At least in Charles Town, he was able to find something useful to do to take his mind off of his past. He shook thoughts of his previous life in Montana aside and bid Mrs. Gregory goodbye, trying to focus on the towheaded little boy he’d be seeing shortly who had a way of melting away all of his problems.