Beth Cornelison - The Christmas Stranger

“Why not you? You need work, and I need a reliable handyman to finish what’s been started. When my husband and I started these renovations, we had no idea how much work was really needed and how long it would all take.” She was chattering again, gushing without taking a breath, but she couldn’t seem to curb her nervous habit. “The work was fun at first. We spent weekends and vacations hammering and painting and papering, but after Ryan died—” She curled her fingers into her hands, waiting out the stab of pain that assailed her.

“The project lost its meaning,” Matt finished for her. “The fun was gone, but the work was still unfinished.”

Her breath caught, and she gaped at him. He’d nailed it. But how did he know how she felt, where her thoughts were headed?

He lost his wife. He knows. He understands.

Holly nodded. “Yes. Exactly. I just want to be done with it. It’s become more of a burden now than a hobby. Jon, Ryan’s brother, took the job on as a favor to me, but he has other responsibilities. He’s a firefighter for the county department down in Crenshaw, and he works one day out of three, has a girlfriend in Asheville.” Holly paused for a breath, gauging Matt’s expression. Mostly he looked shell-shocked.

She had a way of doing that to people—overwhelming them with her chattering, her openness. Her blind trust in the goodness of people worried her family, but her gut instincts had never let her down. Even Ryan, Mr. Methodical Thinker, had learned to trust her sixth sense about people and impromptu plans.

“Will you help me? I’ll pay you what I would pay a contractor. I’ll talk to Jon about it and make all the arrangements.”

Matt opened and closed his mouth, speechless for the moment. “I…don’t have a car or any way to get out here every day.”

“Oh.” She gnawed her lip some more as she thought. “Well, I’ll come get you on the weekends and drive you back to town when we’re done for the day. And I could pick you up around three o’clock when I leave the school, so you could get about four hours of work done in the evening. I’ll fix us dinner, then take you home.”

He still looked dubious. “That’s a lot of driving back and forth over the mountain for you. Are you sure about this? Why would you do this when you don’t even know me?”

Holly rocked back in her seat, rattled. “I thought it was a good solution to both our problems. I…I’ve already had Robert vet you. You don’t have a record. You could give me the name of the guy you worked for this summer for reference, and…I plan to check you out through the Community Aid Center records. But…” She smiled. “I’m guessing I won’t find anything worrisome. You seem like a good guy to me.”

He returned a lopsided grin. “I try.” Lifting a shoulder and giving his head a befuddled shake, he offered her his hand. “All right. Pending your reference check and consult with Jon, I accept. With gratitude. I will finish your renovations for you.”

“Great.” Holly’s grin rose from somewhere deep inside her and blossomed on her lips. This plan felt right. “You can start tomorrow.”

After dinner, Holly gave Matt a quick tour of the house, showing him what she’d already accomplished and what needed to be done. Based on the state of the unfinished rooms, Holly and her late husband had been ambitious and visionary in tackling the old farmhouse. But the transformation was amazing. Holly had breathed new life into the old house and made it a warm home.

Matt followed Holly up the curving staircase, admiring the polished wood railing and beautifully sculpted posts. He found himself caught up in Holly’s enthusiasm for the project and the allure of transforming the house, restoring it to its previous glory.

The guest bathroom where he’d showered had new brass fixtures and white tile but no wallpaper, and the carpeting in the halls was threadbare and ratty. Clearly floor coverings were a final step, once the other work and painting were finished.

“In here.” Holly flipped on the light in the master bedroom, and his attention gravitated to the king-size bed that monopolized most of the floor space. The covers were unmade and rumpled as if she’d just tumbled out after a restless night. A light floral aroma hung in the air and teased his senses. He could too easily imagine Holly’s lithe body tangled in those sheets, and his thoughts strayed to the hidden pulse points where she’d dabbed her flower-scented perfume.

A hot throb of desire coalesced low in his belly, and his body tightened. Gritting his teeth, Matt diverted his gaze, fighting the surge of his libido. No matter how attractive he found Holly, no matter how long it had been since he’d been with a woman, he had to keep his physical interest in his new employer firmly under control. Holly had placed a mountain of trust in him by hiring him, and he wouldn’t do anything to betray that trust.

He appraised the rest of the room in a glance. Judging from the plush blue carpet and ornate crown molding, the renovations of the bedroom was complete.

“We did this room and the kitchen first, since we use them most,” Holly said, confirming his suspicion. “But plumbing intimidated Ryan, and we put off doing the master bathroom. And put it off. And put it off.” She turned on the bathroom light and stepped back for him to enter. “But its time has come. I’m ready to tackle the bathroom, whatever it takes.”

Matt surveyed the stained linoleum floors and ancient fixtures. Outdated wallpaper peeled from the walls and hung limply over the cracked mirror. He had his work cut out for him. But he could do the job. His duties with the crew this summer had included plumbing work and basic tiling.

No problem.

But he’d get a how-to book from the library, just in case.

“So that’s about it.” Holly jammed her hands in the back pockets of jeans that fit her like a second skin. “By my estimates, we can be done by mid-December, Christmas at the latest, barring any snafus.”

Matt winced and held up a finger. “Hey, don’t even mention snafus. You’ll jinx us.”

Chuckling, Holly hit the light switch and backed through the bathroom door. “Don’t tell me you’re superstitious.”

“Let’s just say I’ve had enough bad breaks to know better than to tempt fate.”

“Touché,” she tossed over her shoulder as she glided toward the bedroom door.

Matt fell in step behind her, then hesitated when a picture on her nightstand caught his eye. A wedding portrait.

Pricked by curiosity, he eased closer to her bed and bent to get a closer look at Holly, wearing the same dress she’d donned as a costume for the party today. Her sculpted face had been captured skillfully by the photographer’s lens. Her hair and makeup perfect, she positively glowed. But what truly made Holly beautiful was the love in her eyes as she beamed at her husband.

Matt gave the man a cursory glance.

And froze.

Recognition tickled his spine, and icy fingers of shock and dread squeezed his chest. Matt’s limbs felt leaden. His blood roared in his ears.

If he could point to one person who had caused him the most trouble, the most anguish, the most loss in his life, he’d have to point to the man in Holly’s wedding picture.

Had Holly told him her last name? Should he have figured it out before now?

Matt shook his head, struggling for oxygen. Fighting back the bitter taste of bile that rose in his throat.

He’d told Holly he’d help her with renovations. They’d shaken on it, and Matt wouldn’t go back on his word. He wouldn’t break the trust she’d placed in him.

Even if Holly’s late husband had ruined Matt’s reputation and destroyed his life. Ryan Cole was the ruthless ADA who’d disputed Matt’s sworn statement that Jill’s death was suicide and prosecuted him for murder.