Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Giles?”
I blink, clearing my head. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I said I think I hear people on the stairs.”
“Oh, right. I’ll go greet them, and we’ll get this show on the road.”
It takes us less than two hours to load all of Breena’s things, drive them to my house, and unpack the truck.
Before I can even offer the others something to eat, they all wish us well and take off again.
Breena and I stand in the foyer of my house, surrounded by boxes, staring at each other.
“Now what?” she asks with a nervous little laugh.
“Well, I think I should give you a tour before we start trying to make sense of all of this.” I gesture around the space.
“Good idea.” She brushes at the hair on her cheek. “I’ve always wanted a tour of this house.”
“You have?” I turn to her in surprise. “Why didn’t you just ask for one?”
“I don’t know. I guess that seemed…rude.”
“It’s not rude at all. Okay, let’s start upstairs and work our way down, shall we?”
“We shall.” She grins as she follows me to the stairs. “What’s the history?”
“It was originally built in the early eighteen hundreds,” I begin. When we get to the top of the stairs, I gesture for her to follow me down the hall. “The original building burned down about a hundred years ago and was rebuilt, so this structure isn’t that old.”
“I mean, a hundred years is still pretty old.”
“True, but not compared to so many other homes in the area. But that’s also good because it’s more modern-looking, even though it’s still Puritan style. There are three bedrooms and two bathrooms up here. My room is at the end of the hallway, that way.” I point. “Yours is on the opposite side of the house to give you more privacy.”
I glance down at her and catch her biting her lip.
“I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course. It’s your house, Giles, I’m happy to sleep anywhere.”
I lead her down the hall and open the door to her room. “There’s an attached bathroom, so you won’t have to share with me, and there’s even a view of the garden. I thought you’d like that.”
“I really do love that little garden,” she murmurs as she walks inside and takes in the queen-sized bed and simple furnishings. “It’s lovely.”
“It’s simple, but I know you’ll make it your own. I want you to feel at home here, Breena.”
“Thank you.”
With that, I lead her to another guest room and open the door. “I had the bed and furniture removed from this space, thinking you could use it for a craft area, or maybe you can put the loom in here.”
“Is there room downstairs for crafts?” she asks, thinking it over.
“Yes, I’ll show it to you.”
“Then I’ll probably use this room for the loom. It’s easier.”
I nod, and we make our way back downstairs.
“I adore your kitchen,” she says as we walk through the mudroom to the kitchen. “You have so much counter space, and that stove is just to die for.”
“It’s all yours.”
She whips around to face me with wide eyes.
“I’m serious. I don’t cook here much except to pour myself some cereal in the morning before work. You can use everything here. For whatever you need.”
“I’ll take you up on that.”
“I hope so. Come on, this is the best part.”
Around the corner is a glassed-in room I think is perfect for her.
“A sunroom.”
“Yes, but it could also work for a craft room. It’s plenty big enough for the worktable, and we can add shelves for all your supplies. I also have blinds that will cut some of the direct sunlight.”
“It really is perfect. Thank you, Giles. But what did you do with all the furniture?”
“What furniture?” I laugh and turn to her. “I’ve never had anything in this room. It just sits here.”
“Well, that’s a waste.”
“Not anymore.”
A door slams upstairs, and Breena raises an eyebrow.
“Ah, yes, that’s Molly.”
“Who’s Molly?”
“My house ghost.”
I turn to walk away, but Breena catches my arm to stop me.
“Whoa. Tell me more about that. Who is she? How long has she been here?”
“I’m not a medium,” I remind her. “I can’t speak with her, but I know she’s been here for a long time. I did a little research after she made herself known when I moved in. Molly Adams died in the fire, and she’s still here. She’s harmless. I think she likes me because she pretty much leaves me alone. Sometimes, she’ll move things around, and she likes to slam doors occasionally, which isn’t convenient at three o’clock in the morning. But, otherwise, it’s not a big deal.”
“Interesting,” Breena says. “Was she the only casualty in the fire?”
“As far as I know, yes.”
“Maybe Lorelei can talk to her sometime.” Breena turns from me. “Hi, Molly. I’m Breena. I’ll be staying here for a little while. I’m not here to hurt or upset you. I hope we can be friends.”