on the heels of her boots, she couldn’t help but squeal just a little. Diane was right. She needed a day off. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a day away from the shop, I’m not even sure what to do.”
Diane went back to shoveling, her tone light and playful. “Well, if you hadn’t fallen asleep by eight last night, I’d say sleep. But, since you did, maybe you should just read the hours away.”
“Read the hours away,” she echoed in a whisper. “That sounds wonderful . . .” She reached out, hijacked the shovel, and shooed her aunt toward the door. “First, though, you need to go inside and make sure the egg and ham casserole you have planned for the guests is on target. I’ll get the rest of the porch, the steps, and the walkway cleared. When I’m done, I’ll join you inside for whatever breakfast prep still needs to be done.”
Diane folded her arms across her down-covered chest and shook her head. “Shoveling and helping me with breakfast isn’t taking the day off, dear.”
“I’ll take the day off after I shovel and help you. Now, go on inside before my reading time is marred by cranky guests.”
“You don’t know how to slow down, do you?” Diane said, shaking her head in mock frustration.
“Gee, I wonder where I learned that . . .” She brought the edge of the shovel to the porch floor and began to push, her breath marked by a plume of smoke in the chilly air. “I’ll be in soon. This won’t take long.”
* * *
S he’d just settled onto her favorite couch in the parlor when she heard the quick knock at the door. Part of her wanted nothing more than to ignore the sound and wait for someone else to answer. But, considering the fact her aunt was in the basement doing laundry and the guests were playing a rousing game of cards in the dining room, the task fell to Claire.
Marking her page with a bookmark, she dropped her stocking-clad feet onto the floor and stood, a second and slightly louder knock guiding her to the front hallway. When she reached the door, she took a deep breath, turned the knob, and mustered the closest thing she could find to enthusiasm—an emotion that turned genuine the second she caught sight of the man standing on the other side. “Jakob! Hi! Isn’t this a nice surprise . . .”
A smile raced across his face like wildfire, calling his dimples into service as it reached the finish line. “Looks like someone got that day off she’s been needing for quite some time now.”
She leaned against the doorframe and allowed herself a moment to take in the hint of blond hair visible around the edges of the royal blue knit hat, the strong, capable arms that filled out the sleeves of his navy blue parka, and the amber-flecked hazel eyes that gazed back at her with unmistakable fondness. “To listen to you and Diane, I must have been acting like a real shrew, with the way you both were so determined I have a day off.”
“The word shrew doesn’t belong on the same planet as you, Claire,” he said matter-of-factly. “Your aunt and I just know that working seven days a week, every week, for coming up on three months now, isn’t healthy for anyone, including you.”
“The two of you worry too much. I’ve got this.” She pushed off the frame and waved the detective inside. “Come on in. I’ve got a nice fire going in the fireplace, and the parlor feels really cozy right now.”
He remained exactly where he stood, his smile giving way to a mischievous grin. “I’ll take you up on the fire soon. For now, though, I was kind of hoping you’d put on your coat and gloves and come on outside with me for a little while.”
“In the snow?”
“Yup.”
“But why? It’s cold out there.”
“True. But I’m pretty certain this”—his hands disappeared from her sight only to reappear holding an old-fashioned wooden sled—“would mark up your aunt’s floor if we tried to ride it down the stairs.”
“You want to go sled
Diane went back to shoveling, her tone light and playful. “Well, if you hadn’t fallen asleep by eight last night, I’d say sleep. But, since you did, maybe you should just read the hours away.”
“Read the hours away,” she echoed in a whisper. “That sounds wonderful . . .” She reached out, hijacked the shovel, and shooed her aunt toward the door. “First, though, you need to go inside and make sure the egg and ham casserole you have planned for the guests is on target. I’ll get the rest of the porch, the steps, and the walkway cleared. When I’m done, I’ll join you inside for whatever breakfast prep still needs to be done.”
Diane folded her arms across her down-covered chest and shook her head. “Shoveling and helping me with breakfast isn’t taking the day off, dear.”
“I’ll take the day off after I shovel and help you. Now, go on inside before my reading time is marred by cranky guests.”
“You don’t know how to slow down, do you?” Diane said, shaking her head in mock frustration.
“Gee, I wonder where I learned that . . .” She brought the edge of the shovel to the porch floor and began to push, her breath marked by a plume of smoke in the chilly air. “I’ll be in soon. This won’t take long.”
* * *
S he’d just settled onto her favorite couch in the parlor when she heard the quick knock at the door. Part of her wanted nothing more than to ignore the sound and wait for someone else to answer. But, considering the fact her aunt was in the basement doing laundry and the guests were playing a rousing game of cards in the dining room, the task fell to Claire.
Marking her page with a bookmark, she dropped her stocking-clad feet onto the floor and stood, a second and slightly louder knock guiding her to the front hallway. When she reached the door, she took a deep breath, turned the knob, and mustered the closest thing she could find to enthusiasm—an emotion that turned genuine the second she caught sight of the man standing on the other side. “Jakob! Hi! Isn’t this a nice surprise . . .”
A smile raced across his face like wildfire, calling his dimples into service as it reached the finish line. “Looks like someone got that day off she’s been needing for quite some time now.”
She leaned against the doorframe and allowed herself a moment to take in the hint of blond hair visible around the edges of the royal blue knit hat, the strong, capable arms that filled out the sleeves of his navy blue parka, and the amber-flecked hazel eyes that gazed back at her with unmistakable fondness. “To listen to you and Diane, I must have been acting like a real shrew, with the way you both were so determined I have a day off.”
“The word shrew doesn’t belong on the same planet as you, Claire,” he said matter-of-factly. “Your aunt and I just know that working seven days a week, every week, for coming up on three months now, isn’t healthy for anyone, including you.”
“The two of you worry too much. I’ve got this.” She pushed off the frame and waved the detective inside. “Come on in. I’ve got a nice fire going in the fireplace, and the parlor feels really cozy right now.”
He remained exactly where he stood, his smile giving way to a mischievous grin. “I’ll take you up on the fire soon. For now, though, I was kind of hoping you’d put on your coat and gloves and come on outside with me for a little while.”
“In the snow?”
“Yup.”
“But why? It’s cold out there.”
“True. But I’m pretty certain this”—his hands disappeared from her sight only to reappear holding an old-fashioned wooden sled—“would mark up your aunt’s floor if we tried to ride it down the stairs.”
“You want to go sled
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