Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
I dumped the box on one of my perfect, gorgeous counters and went back to the porch for everything I’d dropped, going back down the path to retrieve the fallen boot. Once inside again, I shut the door behind me and turned around, trying to picture it with furniture. I couldn’t quite place it all in my head.
Hope, Parker, and I had scoured the Heartstone attics, stuffed with decades of furniture that was no longer in use but too valuable to throw away. It was a treasure trove. We’d set aside a couch and two armchairs that Parker had recovered. I’d have a dining table, chairs, a twin bed and dresser for Nicky, and a beautiful antique oak bed with matching dresser and mirror for my bedroom.
In the late afternoon light, my chest swelled, my nose prickling, as my eyes went damp with tears. It wasn’t just that I had this beautiful new place to live.
It felt like home. For the first time in so long, I was home.
I hadn’t known how much I needed that.
This was my place now, and I couldn’t think of anywhere I’d rather be. Heartstone Manor certainly wasn’t where I planned to end up. When I left Sawyers Bend for college, I’d been sure I was never coming back here. Not for good. If you told me I’d feel fulfilled by taking over my mother’s job as housekeeper, I would have laughed in your face.
But that was before, when Prentice had been in charge. It was a different house now. A different family without Prentice.
I loved my job, which was a realization that still surprised me. I knew I wanted it when Griffen offered the position. It had seemed a hell of a lot better than waiting tables. Definitely more stable and lucrative.
I’d known I would like it. I’d known I could do it. But I hadn’t known I would love it or feel challenged and excited when I woke up every morning. But I did, and now I had this jewel of a cottage for my own. It felt like a gift, knowing the time Parker had invested, how Griffen, Hope, and Parker insisted Nicky and I have a nice place to live. So different from Prentice, who’d never given a thought to my mother or me as long as Miss Martha did her job and I didn’t get in his way.
Logically, I knew that, as my employers, Griffen and Hope needed to keep me happy. Running Heartstone Manor wasn’t easy, and their housekeeper wasn’t just a housekeeper. I worked with Harvey, the family lawyer, to make sure everyone was following the terms of the will. Every one of Prentice’s children, and Hope, had rules to follow if they wanted to inherit.
They had to live in Heartstone Manor for five years, sleeping in the house every night, absent for no more than fourteen days each quarter. Griffen’s and Hope’s requirements were even more strict. It would be almost impossible for them to find someone capable of both running the house and passing the more stringent security checks required of anyone charged with enforcing the will.
When it came to Griffen and Hope themselves, I wasn’t that cynical. They needed me as much as I needed them, and this cottage wasn’t a bribe; it was a gift. It was because they wanted me to feel at home here. A tear of sheer happiness ran down my cheek. I swiped it away with a grin. I was at home. Finally.
I walked down the hall to peek at the powder room beside the storage closet opposite the kitchen. At first, we all thought it was another closet. Someone had piled boxes and buckets of old paint around and on top of the toilet and corner sink until the fixtures had disappeared. Now we had a perfect little powder room, which meant Nicky didn’t have to share the small bathroom beside his bedroom with me or any guests.
I continued to wander, loving how the freshly painted creamy walls contrasted with the dark wainscoting and beams. Past the kitchen and powder room, Nicky’s room was off a short hall behind the kitchen. No bed in here yet. Light streamed through the window, brightening the space. The room was small, but the ceilings were high. I already had visions of getting him a raised bed when he was older, something that let him put a desk or couch beneath so he could have space for both sleeping and hanging out. For now, it was plenty big enough for a six-year-old.
Turning back to the kitchen, I spotted the box next to the stove and folded back the flaps to see it was one of the boxes my mother had brought over. I pulled out a framed picture of a cartoon bear and a little boy holding brightly colored balloons. I recognized it immediately as the picture my mother had bought for Nicky when he was a baby. Behind it was the painting of the mountain stream I’d so loved as a child. Holding it up against the wall, I couldn’t wait to hang it. The dreamy quality of the forest stream perfectly fit the cottage. I dug further and found the crocheted afghan my grandmother made me so many years ago, along with a needlepoint pillow she’d stitched when I was a child.