Page 85 of 5 Golden Flings

“Oh, right. I actually saw that on my way here, and somehow I couldn’t not buy it. My father loved Christmas, but I thought it would be hard to be in that same house during the season. Why I was drawn to pick that up, I’m not sure...” Her voice faded away as she stared at the ornament.

“I’m glad you did. That may be the only reason I made it through the storm. I followed its light to the front porch.”

She threw him a sideways glance. “Surely not. It isn’t that bright.”

“I swear I saw it shining in the window,” he insisted, holding up his hand in a pledge. He couldn’t help teasing her though. “Maybe it’s Christmas magic?”

He’d barely gotten the last word out before she was shaking her head. “I’m too practical for that.”

“That ornament tells me there’s a spark of whimsy in there somewhere.”

“I’ve never found it. Not since—not in twenty-eight years,” she corrected herself.

Remembering her as a normal, if quiet little girl, he had to wonder why.

He winked, loving the return of the flush to her cheeks. “I do love a good challenge.” He reached out and handed her plate to her.

That same subtle moan slipped out as she took a bite of his scrambled eggs. “These are good.”

“I do make a mean egg scramble. It’s a pretty easy breakfast for the firehouse for a Saturday morning meeting.”

She smiled before digging in.

They ate in companionable silence, the sound of the wind the only noise from outside. The snow and ice had stopped pelting the windows sometime after midnight. At one point the wind had been so strong that Colby had worried the ice would break the stained glass in the peak of the front of the house.

“I’ve always loved the architecture of this place,” Colby said. “Very unusual.”

“My dad loved it. The renovation was a labor of love, he said.”

She glanced down at her plate, her expression taking on a sad tinge.

“I know it’s become trendy to make churches into homes,” he said instead, “but this one was before its time. I’m glad they were able to keep the stained glass and some openness to it.”

She nodded, glancing back through the doorway toward the living room, where the high peaks of the sanctuary were still in place. “It is beautiful.”

So why was she frowning? He’d guess she didn’t have very fond memories of the place. Or had they moved before she was old enough to remember?

“It definitely doesn’t help with the heat,” he joked, though he was occasionally shivering, even having been able to layer his pants and sweater on this morning.

She nodded as if making a decision. “Look, I didn’t realize I’d be here under these circumstances. Though I knew some weather was expected, it never occurred to me that it would become an ice storm.” She smiled sheepishly at him. “You seem to know what you’re doing. If you could help me out, I’d appreciate it.”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“There’s wood stacked on the back porch. It’s covered, so I didn’t think it would need to be brought in. And I’m not good at lighting fires, so I didn’t know how safe it would be to light one last night. Could you do that for us? It would definitely help with the temperature in the living room.”

“It should. I have plenty of experience with fireplaces. Granddad had one and the house I rented a room in when I was up north for college had one too. I’ll get it going.”

“Thank you.”

She grabbed his plate on the way to the sink.

“I can do that,” he said.

“No, you cooked, I’ll clean. It’s just a little anyway. I’d rather have the fire,” she said with a grin over her shoulder.

Sounded like a plan. Why did that smile make him feel like a million bucks?

CHAPTER 7

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