Alexander sighed as he closed the door to the garage. What had he done? How could he have hired that woman? She was clearly insane. What was up with her kissing his cheek? She was entirely too perky. And who wore candy cane socks to what was essentially a job interview?

Dorothy turned to him. “She’s the expert you hired?”

He gave her a grunt. “Hardly. The expert sent his college-aged daughter. I expect she’ll be leaving in the morning.”

Dorothy raised an eyebrow. “Really? What if she knows what she’s doing?”

“Then she’ll leave when the job is done. Either way, the end result is the same, which is good because she looks like a nut-case.”

Dorothy let out a laugh. “She looks happy. You’re just not used to that.” She snapped a towel at him.

He frowned at her. “Don’t you start.”

She sobered. “Maybe if you let some holiday cheer in, you’d smile every once in a while too.”

“Holiday cheer? I’m not wearing Christmas socks, if that’s what you’re implying.”

Dorothy snorted and turned back to her pot on the stove. “Lunch will be ready in an hour. Should I invite the appraiser in to eat with you?”

“Why would you do that?”

She gave him a sour look. “You want her telling her father you made her eat in the garage? Isn’t he some famous guy?”

Alexander squinted at her. Maybe she had a point. He didn’t want to look like a tyrant. “All right. Invite her to lunch in the dining hall.” He turned and stalked out of the kitchen.

***

CHARLEY TUGGED ON A box until it came off the stack, almost toppling over on her. She managed to get it to the cement floor without dropping it. She couldn’t believe this was what she was doing. Cleaning out some grumpy guy’s garage. But she didn’t want to argue with him after she’d basically had to grovel to get him to give her the job. So, she was stuck going through boxes of stuff and making a pile for Goodwill.

Did her father know what this job entailed? The man had said he’d explained it. Why had her father sent her? This was demeaning. Yet, he was going to pay her an insane amount of money for a two-week job. She should shut up and do the work. It sounded like he didn’t want any of the stuff anyway. It was all either going to auction or being given to the thrift store. All she had to do was search through the boxes for anything valuable. How hard could that be?

She lifted the flaps and peered inside. Candles. Jar candles, tapered candles and pillar candles. In the bottom she found two silver candlesticks. Not particularly old, but still worth some money. She pulled them out and stashed them in the box she’d started for the auction. The rest of the box went to the pile for charity.

Charley rubbed her hands together. It was chilly. She hoped it didn’t get too much colder. She didn’t want to have to wear gloves. After sorting for an hour, Dorothy opened the door and stepped into the garage. “I have lunch ready, if you’d like to come inside and eat.”

Food sounded great to Charley and she smiled. “I’d love to eat lunch. Thank you.” She followed the woman through the kitchen and into a dining hall. She slipped off her coat and Dorothy took it from her. The long table had enough seating for twenty people. Charley saw two place settings and stopped short. “Are you eating with me?”

Dorothy shook her head. “You will be dining with Alexander.”

“Mr. Norris?” Charley’s voice squeaked. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Why?”

Charley lowered her voice. “I think he hates me.”

Dorothy laughed and motioned to the seat. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s just had a rough time of it...since the accident.”

“What accident?”

Mr. Norris entered the room, his scowl so deep Charley could feel its presence. “It’s none of your business.”

Dorothy left the room so quickly, Charley almost yelled after her, “Traitor!” Instead, she pulled out her chair and took her seat.

Mr. Norris sat at the head of the table. Charley shifted awkwardly in her chair. She spread her napkin on her lap and looked at Mr. Norris. “Do you know what Dorothy made for lunch?”

“She usually makes soup and sandwiches.”

“Oh. Lovely.” Charley stared at the dark wood of the table. An early turn of the century piece. Staring at the table was preferable to staring at Mr. Norris, who looked like he wanted to bolt from the room. Either that, or rip her head off.

Dorothy came back in with two bowls of soup on a tray. “I hope you like clam chowder.”

“Sounds delicious. And it will warm me right up. That garage is freezing.” She rubbed her hands together to emphasize her words.

Mr. Norris’s gaze softened. “Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I don’t mind.” Charley plastered on a smile. She didn’t want him to think she was a complainer. “I’m happy to do the work.”

He seemed to study her for a moment before turning his attention to his soup. Dorothy brought in a plate of cucumber sandwiches. Charley picked one up and took a bite.

After a few minutes of eating, neither one of them talking, Charley decided she needed to get to know him better, so their time together wouldn’t be so awkward. “Do you live in this house all alone?”

Mr. Norris glanced up at her. “Yep.” He went back to his soup.

“It’s a beautiful home. I love the high arching windows. Has it been in your family for a long time?”

He gave her a weird look. “Yes.”

Charley was hoping he would expand on that, but he went back to eating. She stirred her soup a moment before deciding she would have to be the one who kept the conversation going. “What kinds of things do you like to do?”

“Work.”

“No, I mean for fun. Do you have any hobbies?”

He bristled at her question. “No.”

This wasn’t working at all, but she couldn’t stand the silence. “I have several hobbies. I’m a crafter. I love repurposing old furniture. Not the antique stuff, but the kind that isn’t worth anything. I had this old dresser that I cut the top off and created this adorable bench. My best friend Mattie died when she saw it. She said it was the cutest thing she’d ever seen.”

Mr. Norris stared at her, not saying anything, so she continued. “And I love to crochet. I’m kind of a yarn addict. I love making blankets and hats. Oh, and I made a pair of socks once because I’m a sock addict as well, but they were way too large for me so I gave them to my father, but he’s not really a sock guy. Plus, they were orange and pink, which isn’t his color scheme at all, but he did put them on and my mother and I had a good laugh over it.”

He blinked at her, his expression hard to read. She gave him a smile, hoping to encourage him to speak, but he stayed silent.

“I also love the ocean. Of course, you don’t have the coast here, but it’s beautiful here as well. I can’t wait to see it snow. Growing up in Florida, I haven’t been around much snow. We took a spring vacation one year and went to a cabin in Minnesota, and there was still snow on the ground, even in April. I read the forecast and it’s supposed to snow sometime this evening and I’m super excited about it. Do you like the snow, Mr. Norris?”

He scowled and picked up his water glass. “No.”

“I can’t wait to see this beautiful mountainside with everything covered in snow. It’s going to be breathtaking, don’t you think?”

He flinched, as if her words caused him pain. Before she could ask about it, he smoothed out his features. “I think, Miss Davis, you should eat your soup before it gets as cold as the garage,” he said, his voice low.

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” She ate the rest of her lunch in silence, wondering what his strange behavior had meant, or if it had meant anything at all.

She returned to the garage after getting her coat from Dorothy. It was a red fleece peacoat, and she hoped it wouldn’t get filthy from digging through the old boxes of junk. As she started in on another box, the door to the garage opened and Mr. Norris stepped in. He held a space heater.

“I, uh, thought this might be helpful to you.” He leaned over and plugged it into the wall.

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much!” Charley bounced on her toes. “I was so chilled out here, but the heater will make it nice and toasty. This will be perfect.”

He stood back, his face impassive. “I expect you to load up the truck each day and take the items to charity before it gets dark. The roads get dangerous here at night.”

She had not expected it to be her job to take the junk to Goodwill, but she masked her surprise with a nod. “Okay. Where’s the truck?”

“Just open the garage door. It’s in the driveway. You can get the keys from Dorothy when you’re ready to leave.”

“All right.”

With that, Mr. Norris went back inside the house, leaving her to her work. She sighed and continued to rummage through the mess of boxes. The silence began to bother her, so she brought out her phone and turned on some Christmas music. With only nine more days until the holiday, she was missing the usual cheer. But soon the songs and the heater brought her the warmth she desired.

The rest of the day was spent piling boxes into the truck bed. And by five o’clock she knew she’d better drive into town so she wasn’t out on the road after sunset. The last thing she wanted to do was give Mr. Grumpy another reason to frown at her.

The trip took fifteen minutes to get to Goodwill and another fifteen to unload the boxes. By the time she got back to the house, the sun had already dipped below the horizon and dusk had settled in. Mr. Norris came out of his house as she pulled up with the truck. “I told you to be back before dark.” He threw his words at her like darts, and they stung.

She was determined not to let his foul mood get her down. She smiled at him as she climbed down from the driver’s seat. The truck sat quite a bit higher than she was used to. “It’s not fully dark yet. Don’t worry, I’m not only an accomplished appraiser, I’m also a very careful driver. I’ve only wrecked one truck.” She winked at him, letting him know she was teasing.

He took a step back from her, his shocked look quite amusing. She giggled. “I’m kidding. I have a perfect driving record. Don’t look so nervous.” She walked past him and into the house.