Winter's Kiss (Three Christmas Romances)

By Mary L. Briggs

Three heartwarming Christmas Inspirational Romance stories in one collection! This holiday book bundle contains Love Restored, Christmas in Candle Cove, and Finding Love in Christmas Creek.

Love Restored:

A forgotten romance haunts Fairlight’s historic opera house...and a new one struggles to grow amidst its renovation. Interior designer Kate is tasked with bringing cheer back to the musty corridors of Drummond Hall in time for Christmas. The last thing she expects to find there is love, but she can’t help being drawn to handsome architect Paul Lucas. Paul shares a mutual faith and a passion for the treasures of the past, but seems reluctant to open his heart. Will past mistakes keep their love buried like the secrets of the opera house?

Christmas in Candle Cove:

Cozy up for a small-town Christmas, as the citizens of Candle Cove prepare for the busy holiday season. Widowed Ellie Courtland, owner of Farmhouse Finds, has settled into her life with her small son. But when a long ago fiancé returns to town, old feelings begin to surface. Is God providing them with a second chance? Ellie longs to know the answer as the holiday brings them closer. To complicate matters, the town’s Christmas cheer is disrupted by a series of burglaries.

Finding Love in Christmas Creek:

Macy has a life in the city, but her heart has always belonged to her beloved hometown of Christmas Creek. So when her aunt's quaint craft shop, The Stitchin' Post is in need of a helping hand, she returns home for the holidays. But a handful of mysterious happenings in her aunt's shop have Macy worried ... and a certain handsome single dad has a very distracting effect on her heart!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary L. Briggs
• Release date: Oct 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463787755

Mary L. Briggs

Mary L. Briggs is a wife, mother, and registered nurse. She enjoys writing inspirational fiction and is also a free-lance writer. She has had two romance stories and one mini-mystery published in Woman's World Magazine. She enjoys reading, writing, studying American history, cooking, quilting, herb gardening, and crafting. Mary lives in a cordwood home in the Ouachita Mountains with her husband and two daughters. She also enjoys the company of five cats, a German Shepherd/Border Collie dog, and a flock of chickens.

Book preview

Love Restored

Christmas in Candle Cove

Finding Love in Christmas Creek

Chapter 1

It was a fairytale come true

At least that’s what the brochure, nestled inside Kate Hollister’s shoulder bag promised. Walking down the Main Street of Fairlight, Missouri, she almost believed those words were true. A quaint Victorian village with cozy shops and friendly citizens, Fairlight promised at first glance to be the storybook town she longed for. After years of traveling around–first with her architect father and then in her own career–Kate was more than ready to settle down and make a home of her own.

Breathing deeply, she reveled in the clean, crisp air of early autumn. In exactly thirty minutes, she would start her new job as the historical interior designer for Fairlight’s opera house. But right now, all she could think about was getting a fresh cup of coffee.

I’ll have the Almond Toffee Crunch, she told the man behind the counter at the Crescent Moon Café. The piping hot pastries in the display case made her mouth water, but she resisted. Sticky hands wouldn’t be the best way to greet her new boss.

The exotic flavored coffee teased her nose as she made her way to the exit. Her lips poised for that first taste, she swung open the door–smack into a man wearing a red and black flannel check shirt. Time seemed to slow as the cup crumpled in her hand, the dark liquid splashing onto the front of the man’s shirt and seeping deep into the material.

He quickly pulled the wet area away from his skin, uttering a sharp Whoa!

Kate dropped the paper cup and began dabbing the liquid with her napkin, even as the victim of her clumsiness calmly assured her, It’s fine, really, it’s okay. Don’t bother.

Strong, capable fingers wrapped around her furiously scrubbing hand, and she gazed into the intense eyes of a ruggedly handsome stranger. His mouth was curved in a lopsided smile that seemed friendly and just a little amused.

I’m so, so sorry, Kate stammered. Gold-colored hair, a clear cut jaw, and blue eyes that danced with good-natured mischief was not the type of man she expected to see, based on her glimpse of faded jeans and scuffed boots.

Laughing, he glanced down at the well-worn clothes. Well, it’s not like you’ve done me any harm.

At least let me buy your coffee, she pleaded, trying hard to ignore the warmth spreading across her cheeks. Stop it, Kate! A grown woman, supposedly confident and capable, shouldn’t be rendered into a babbling child by spilled coffee.

He fetched her empty Styrofoam cup from the ground. I should buy yours. It was my fault you spilled it. I should have seen you coming. Guess I was lost in thought.

She almost said me too, then reminded herself she barely knew this man. A glimpse of her watch told her she was in danger of making yet another bumble if she didn’t hurry. I should really be getting to work. It’s my first day and I don’t want to be late.

He grinned. First day, huh? Well, you better get a move on then. See you around.

Hopefully under better circumstances. A thought she kept to herself as she hurried down the sidewalk, praying fervently she would make it to work on time.

***

Getting inside Drummond Hall was a little like navigating an obstacle course. Kate wove carefully between the rows of scaffolding, clutching her shoulder bag close to her side. The echoing of numerous saws and drills made it difficult to hear anything else, and she barely understood the warning a worker shouted from directly above her head.

Watch out, Miss!

Kate jumped as a large crystal chandelier and chunks of plaster smashed on the floor in front of her feet, sending a cloud of white dust swirling into the air. Her pulse pounding like a rainstorm on a tin roof, she covered her nose and mouth and fought back the scream that had rushed up her throat.

Are you okay down there?

She looked up and saw a man in coveralls perched atop a set of scaffolding, wiring that once held the elegant chandelier dangled freely from the ceiling. Incapable of making a verbal response, she nodded her head, her hand still plastered over her mouth.

Glancing at her feet, she saw her new brown pumps covered with a white film. Oh, Lord, why did this have to happen? And the accident at the coffee shop too. Are you trying to tell me something?

Are you all right, ma’am?

A cool, masculine voice summoned her back to reality. She turned and faced a tall man in a business suit, his wavy chestnut hair dotted with specks of plaster. Self-consciously, she raised a hand to check her own auburn tresses for debris.

His smile exuded success and the white dusting on his ebony suit and flakes of plaster on his flawless features gave the impression he was a wayward groom from atop a frosted wedding cake.

She smiled and raised her voice to compensate for the noise surrounding them. I seem to have escaped uninjured. I’m Kate Hollister. And you must be Mr. West.

It was a fairly safe assumption. Brenton West, the head of the board of directors for Drummond Hall, had agreed to meet Kate at the job site by nine o’clock.

He extended a friendly hand That’s right. And, please, Miss Hollister, call me Brent. All my friends do.

She took his hand. And please call me Kate.

I really must apologize for the mess. He made a sweeping motion with his arm, taking in the maze of scaffolding, and fresh shower of plaster. We’ve got a long ways to go before the opera house is everything we want it to be. Of course, he beamed, now that you’re here, things will change. Paul Lucas assured us that your presence will be invaluable to this project.

Kate blushed. The architect seemed to have been very generous with his praise. That’s kind of Mr. Lucas. Of course, we’ve never actually met, except through emails.

Well, you’ll be able to thank him personally in a few minutes.

You mean he’s here? Surprise flooded through her. Most of the architects I’ve collaborated with worked strictly from their offices.

Brent shook his head. Not Lucas. He’s a hands-on kind of architect. He wants to make sure the work gets done right. He’s been here on the job from day one.

That shouldn’t be a surprise. His dedication for restoring the treasures of the past shone through every one of the lines in those emails he had sent.

So, Kate, are you ready for the tour?

Leaving behind the noise and confusion of the lobby, Brent guided Kate into the auditorium, where the normally dim atmosphere was set ablaze by the extra lighting strung up for construction purposes.

She sucked in a deep breath. It’s even more beautiful than the photos Mr. Lucas sent to me.

Similar to the situation in the lobby, the domed ceiling was beginning to crumble, leaving gaping holes in its wake. The intricate molding, though cracked and broken in places, looked as if part of its restoration was beginning. She found herself itching to duplicate its peeling paint and faded glory.

The buzz of a skill saw issued from the stage, drawing their attention. Lucas is working up there, Brent told her, starting toward the front of the auditorium.

Crisscrossing through power tools and cast-off planks, she arrived several moments after Brent, who spoke briefly to a man in a hardhat. Most of the stage floor, ripped out for replacement, was now more than half finished. Kate studied her surroundings, her brow furrowing in concentration as she considered the different textures she would need to reproduce the room to its original splendor.

Lucas! Brenton West shouted over the din of a nearby table saw.

Kate’s heart plunged as a tall man turned and pulled a hardhat from his sandy head. Her eyes locked onto the dark stain covering the front of his shirt. His red and black checked flannel shirt.

Was it too much to hope there was more than one ruggedly handsome man running around Fairlight with a coffee stained flannel shirt? Feeling warmth escalating in her cheeks, she steeled herself for another encounter with the stranger from the coffee shop.

Arms folded, the man called Lucas came to a halt in front of them, his mouth forming a wide grin. Oblivious, Brent plunged on with the introductions. Paul Lucas, this is Kate Hollister, our new historical renovator.

When he spoke, his voice was laden with amusement. Miss Hollister and I have already met. In fact, you might say she made a lasting impression on me.

She was about to protest this sarcastic remark when she accidentally met the warm gaze of his friendly blue eyes. His smile was contagious, and she found herself laughing in spite of the accusation.

Brent gazed back and forth between them, his confused expression demanding an explanation for the private joke.

Paul cleared his throat and arranged his features into a serious expression. Miss Hollister and I just had a chance meeting at the coffee shop, that’s all. I didn’t realize who she was.

Kate took the calloused hand he offered in greeting, fully aware of the intensity of his blue gaze. It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Lucas. The work you’ve done here is quite impressive.

He shook his head. It’s not my skill, Kate. We’re just more or less copying the talent of the original builder. And, I must say, whoever he was, his work was brilliant.

Brent interjected, From what you’ve told me, Kate is quite gifted herself. She’s one of the best in her field. It will be her touch that makes the difference to this old building.

Feeling another blush coming on, Kate protested. I’m afraid you’re overestimating my talent. After all, you haven’t seen the finished product.

The friendly exchange was interrupted by the shrill jingle of Brent’s cell phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and headed for the seating area. Be right back, he called over his shoulder.

Paul resumed their conversation. So, what do you think of our little town, so far?

It’s charming, she replied, gazing into his cobalt blue eyes. It’s a nice change from the bustle of San Francisco.

His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Now that’s a city with great architecture. I worked there for several years."

Kate arched her eyebrows. You never mentioned that in your emails.

His mouth curved into a sheepish smile. I know. But that’s how I really became so familiar with your work. I think my favorite was the lobby in the Wells Hotel, with the wallpaper and restored glass windows in the foyer. I read how you slowly pieced together the exact pattern of the wallpaper and had it reproduced.

A wave of surprise and pleasure washed over her. The work on the tiny hotel was all but forgotten, even in her recent interview in Vintage World Décor .

Yeah, he continued. And, I toured the Landers estate after it opened as a museum. You did a remarkable job with the whole thing. It was like stepping back in time. The moment I heard they were looking for someone to do the interior design on this place, I thought of you. But, I have to say, I was surprised when they said you were really coming.

Caught off guard, she smiled at his remark. In truth, she was searching for a new project, when news of Drummond Hall reached her e-mail. It’s really a blessing to get this job, she confessed. I need to thank you for recommending me.

We’re just glad you agreed to come. The first consultant we considered wasn’t nearly as qualified. I saw samples of his work in the local bank–let’s just say it needed improvement.

This looks more challenging than anything I’ve ever done. Kate let her eyes wander around the decrepit auditorium. Let’s just hope my work doesn’t disappoint.

He gestured toward the waiting stage. Wanna come up? The floorboards will hold, I promise. And I want you to see the big picture of the performance hall work before you really get started.

Sure. Kate followed him up the worn steps to the stage’s battered planks. He signaled for a nearby worker to shut off the noisy skill saw. A thin fog of sawdust drifted over the stage surface.

I noticed you walked to work today, he said casually. Does it feel different being in a town where you can walk from one end to the other without breathing hard?

Kate grinned. Definitely. It’s my first brush with true small town life. Aside from the few weeks of summer at my grandparent’s house in Springfield that is.

So, you have family here?

Not anymore, I’m afraid. She found it difficult to repress the feelings of sadness when she talked about her grandparents. My grandparents died several years ago. Just a few years before my mother. Before tears could emerge, she changed the subject. What about you? Do you miss living in the city?

He shrugged. Now and then. But I wouldn’t go back for anything. This place is home.

Home. Something stirred inside. Would there ever be such a place for her?

I think I know what you mean, she said hesitantly. I need something with permanence. I’m ready for a new beginning, a place to finally settle down.

Well, this is a great place for it. It’s friendly and warm. Plus there’s a good church community.

I’m hoping to find a small, close-knit church, she told him. I’ve never really lived in a place long enough to get involved.

Paul nodded. I‘ve had the opposite experience. I was raised in a small church. Pot luck dinners, Christmas plays, everybody knew everybody. My grandpa was the pastor most of the time I was growing up.

She experienced a flicker of envy as he spoke. It sounded like the life she used to fantasize about as a child. Making friends was difficult when you only stayed in each town a month or two. Sounds like a great way to grow up.

Why don’t you come with me some time? I go to Rose Wood Chapel. It’s small but very friendly.

You mean the little white church at the end of Rose Wood Lane?

He turned and motioned for her to follow. That’s the one. An old cemetery’s right next to it. Hold on a second, he cautioned her, and let me cover up this hole with some planks.

He dragged some uncut boards across the gaping hole in the stage. In the blackness below she could see the remains of old sets and props long forgotten and dusty.

Give me your hand. His hold was strong and reassuring as he helped her across the makeshift bridge to the other side of the stage. What do you think?

She turned and surveyed the ruins of the auditorium: broken-down seats, threadbare carpets, mildewed wallpaper peeling from rotting timber walls and debris scattered everywhere. Somewhere beneath all the chaos, there was a chance for a new beginning buried in its tradition.

It’s beautiful, she answered simply.

A lot of people think this old place has had it. A fair number of citizens thought we ought to tear it down and build something new. But old houses and old traditions are worth preserving. That’s why I took this job.

Kate turned toward him, sensing the warmth in his voice. About the church you mentioned. I’m renting a house just up the road from it.

You mean the stone cottage? His eyebrows quirked in surprise. I noticed it had been rented.

His pleased tone brought a rush of warmth to her face. It seemed safest to keep on talking, so she plunged ahead, barely knowing what she said. The whole scene is so picturesque. I want to try painting it sometime.

His eyes sparked with interest. I’ve tried my hand at painting a time or two, but I’m more of a photographer– He cut off his remarks as Brent reappeared, snapping his cell phone shut.

Sorry about the interruption, Kate. Are you ready for the rest of the tour?

Sure, she replied, secretly reluctant to end her conversation with this man whose interests seemed to parallel her own so closely. For a moment, the architect’s clear blue eyes kept her riveted to the stage, like an actress frozen by stage fright. It was nice meeting you, Paul. I’m looking forward to the work ahead.

He nodded and smiled. Same here.

***

Paul kept his vision on Kate until she vanished from his sight. When he proposed to the council that they hire Kate Hollister for the Drummond Hall renovations, he pictured her as a seasoned veteran in the field of restoration. He never expected someone so young…or beautiful.

He narrowed his eyes as her image floated through his mind again. She would have flaming auburn hair and emerald green eyes. A combination his heart tried to avoid at all costs.

And why did it even matter? Kate Hollister wasn’t her, no matter how many physical similarities might exist between them. No, Kate was a gentle, warm, and truly authentic person. He could see it in her face.

Get a grip on yourself, man, he muttered, returning to his work.

Chapter 2

Kate clung to the carved oak banister, trying to avoid the missing boards and rotten planks in the curved staircase. One false step could mean a twisted ankle or worse. Old job sites like these were always the most dangerous–even when there weren’t crystal chandeliers dropping from the sky.

Brent pointed at the brown stained walls and rodent-chewed timbers above their heads. As you can see, we have a lot of water damage up here.

It was an understatement. In certain spots, the ceiling had all but caved in. The floor wasn’t quite as bad, but some of the worn places must have contributed to the damage below. Kate repressed a sigh. The overwhelming odds of the project were starting to erode her self-assurance.

He gestured to the rows of doors in the dimly lit hallway. These are makeshift offices since the upstairs isn’t scheduled for renovation until the lobby and auditorium are complete. I think yours is somewhere on the right side.

As he spoke, a heavyset man sporting a large mustache emerged from one of the doorways carrying a stack of manila file folders. Well, hello there, he boomed in a friendly voice. Would this be the famous Miss Hollister?

Famous? Kate bit her lower lip, unsure how to deal with all the special treatment she was getting.

Brent grinned broadly at the sight of her flushed cheeks. "That’s right. This is the Kate Hollister. And Kate, this is Jerry Kinkade, the manager of Drummond Hall."

Jerry gripped her hand in his larger one. Miss Hollister, I can’t tell you how much I’ve looked forward to this part of the renovation. You’re exactly what this project needs to reach its full potential. Just like Brent, here, he continued, slapping the businessman on the back. He’s our major financial contributor. Without him, none of this would be possible.

Brent shook his head. You’re giving me too much credit. The most important thing is that Fairlight is getting its opera house back. We couldn’t do it without everyone who’s helping out, he added, with a significant glance in Kate’s direction.

Absolutely, she agreed. Renovations are always a team project.

That reminds me, said Jerry, turning in Kate’s direction, Your assistant and the volunteers from the community will be here around nine tomorrow morning.

Oh, wonderful. I’m looking forward to meeting them. With a good assistant and some willing volunteers the task at hand wouldn’t be so over overwhelming.

We’ll all be working together like one big happy family for the next few months, Jerry beamed. Right up to Christmas Eve.

That’s true, said Brent, with an enthusiastic smile. If we have to work 24/7, we’ll make it.

Kate’s eyebrows shot up. You seem adamant about reaching the Christmas deadline. What if we don’t make it?

"We have to. We’ve scheduled our first production for Christmas Eve night. A Christmas Carol. We’re already sold out."

Will they be practicing here? she asked, envisioning a group of amateur actors invading their work space, stumbling over equipment, maybe even demanding space for the props and sets before the stage was ready.

The cast is already practicing at the high school, Brent reassured her, as if reading her mind. His pager begin to beep loudly. Checking the number, he frowned. Sorry, Kate but I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. It’s about Drummond Hall, and I’m the one chairing it so I better get going.

That’s all right. I’m sure if Mr. Kinkade will point out my office, I can start getting organized.

I’ve got the key right here, said Jerry, whipping out a large key ring that reminded Kate of the kind jailers wore in old western movies. Yours is the third door on the right.

Brent paused on the stairway, gripping the rail. Listen, Kate, I don’t think I’ll be dropping in here anytime tomorrow. I’ve got some work-related meetings and a telephone conference to conduct. Would you be able to meet for dinner tomorrow night and discuss more of the project?

Dinner? Just the two of us? Kate hesitated, knowing how quickly even the most innocent situations could lead to workplace rumors. Still, Brent seemed the essence of business. What time can you meet?

I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock, he told her, scribbling down her address and phone number. See you then.

Kate spent the rest of the day transforming her new office into an efficient workspace. Utilizing the desk drawers and filing cabinet in the corner, she arranged the stacks of folders that held her blueprints, catalogues, and material samples for the opera house. One of the folders spilled open across the desk revealing the emails written by Paul. She swept them up, half-afraid he would walk in and find them in her hand. Would he think it was anything other than business that made her print them out?

When quitting time rolled around, she headed downstairs to exit with the rest of the crew. Her first day on the job and she had already toured the building and accepted a business dinner with the project’s financier. And poured coffee all over the head architect she reminded herself as she spotted Paul Lucas conferring with an electrician. Keep your mind on your work, she told herself.

***

The cottage on Rose Wood Lane captured Kate’s heart the moment she saw it. She loved its miniscule rooms, arched doorways, and leaded glass windows. Despite the busy day, she was determined to start unpacking the many boxes grouped in the small living and dining areas.

The cordless phone next to her rang. She snapped it up and heard Celeste’s cheerful voice on the other end. So how did it go today Kate? Tell me everything.

Kate grinned. Celeste was the sister she never had. Friends since they roomed together in college, they shared each other’s victories and failures on a routine basis. Kate was the maid of honor in Celeste’s wedding, and Celeste was determined to do the same for her someday.

As her friend sighed enviously, Kate described her latest adventure, omitting only the coffee spill from her story. Somehow, she didn’t trust Celeste, ever hopeful, not to make something out of nothing.

So, she finished up, I’ll be learning the rest of the details when I meet with Brenton West over dinner tomorrow night. He’s the financial donor for Drummond Hall and everything seems to depend on him.

"The Brenton West! Celeste’s voice took on new life. The head of West Technology Developments? You’re going to dinner with him?"

Sure. Kate’s pulse tripped as the excitement rose in Celeste’s voice. What’s wrong with that?

Nothing, except that he must be a millionaire seven times over.

Are you kidding? Her stomach clenched as she thought about her dinner plans with the smooth businessman. Suddenly, she felt very self-conscious about her carefree hair and business casual wardrobe.

Kate, this is amazing. Don’t go spoiling it with any crazy notions about workplace relationships or not dating until you’re settled somewhere.

What are you talking about?

Celeste was practically screaming now. Brenton West is one of the ten richest and most eligible bachelors in the country. He’s been in GQ magazine, Kate!

Umm…calm down Celeste. It’s just business. Really, I mean that.

Finally she managed to finagle the conversation around to safer topics, such as Celeste’s husband and kids. Although her friend meant well, Kate never got used to Celeste’s one-woman quest to marry her off to whatever perfect bachelor was nearest her current location.

By the way, have you heard from your dad? Celeste asked, before they hung up.

No. I’m going to email him tonight. Hopefully, he and Anne are having a good time. They’ll be honeymooning all over Europe for the next two months, so I don’t expect to hear from them too much.

That’s so romantic, Celeste sighed. Just think, if things work out with you and Brenton West–

"Celeste, stop!"

Okay, okay. But keep an open mind, Celeste pleaded as they ended the call.

Before going to bed, Kate ransacked her closet, looking for an appropriate dress for her dinner tomorrow night. There didn’t seem to be one. As she riffled through the rows of skirt and jacket combinations, her favorite dress slipped from its hanger to the floor. A chocolate shade of brown trimmed with pink, it wasn’t an option for a classy restaurant. It was much more appropriate to wear on a date with…Paul.

She blinked. Don’t be silly. Paul was kind, pleasant, considerate…and just being friendly.

Finally, she settled on a long sleeved black satin dress with matching shoes. This should convey the professional look she wanted to impress upon Brent, she thought with satisfaction. But Celeste’s fixation with romance still lingered in her thoughts. Along with the lasting impression the architect had made in those moments on the stage.

Chapter 3

The next morning, Kate arrived on the job bright and early, eager to start. Prepared this time, she ducked expertly through the network of scaffolding erected inside the main entrance, her right arm supporting the bulky notebook which contained her research on the old building.

The bright lights in the lobby highlighted the group of volunteers, already gathered around the former concession stand, drinking coffee and eating donuts. They ranged from high school age to retirement, clad in old jeans and T-shirts as they geared up to strip away the tattered flower print from the lobby walls. Kate smiled as she approached, ready to trade introductions, when a small, perky blonde emerged from the crowd and eagerly gripped her hand.

Ms. Hollister, I’m Nina Wilson, from Designing Motives. So glad you could join us.

Join us? Kate flushed, wondering if she had offended them by missing the pre-work breakfast session. Sorry if I’m late. Mr. Kinkade said the crew wouldn’t be here until nine o’clock, and–glancing at her watch–it’s just now eight-forty-five.

Nina flashed her a chipper smile. That’s right. But I like to get here early in case there are any unexpected developments.

And have there been any?

Oh, no. Everything’s right on schedule. We can begin as soon as you’re ready.

Okay, said Kate. We’ll meet here at nine o’clock if that still works for everyone. I’ll be up in my office getting a few things ready if you need me for anything.

Kate climbed the stairs to her office on the second floor. Passing Mr. Kinkade’s door, she noted that not even the manager managed to beat Nina to work that morning.

Good morning, Miss Hollister.

She gave a little jump as a masculine voice broke the morning silence. Turning around, she saw Paul emerging from one of the office doors. It’s Kate, she reminded him with a smile. Her heart skipping a beat from the momentary alarm.

His midnight blue eyes studied her thoughtfully. You’re here early. Most of the crew catches that extra ten minutes of sleep.

Not my assistant.

So you’ve met Nina, huh? I understand that Brent recommended her for you especially. I think she was the interior designer for his own house.

Kate fumbled with the strap on her shoulder bag, wishing she could say something positive about her first impression of Nina. I’m sure she’s enthusiastic about her job, she managed at last, certain it was a true statement if not a flattering one.

A teasing smile tugged at the corners of Paul’s mouth. Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll work it out. Nina’s a little, well, overbearing at times, but she’s a sweet girl, when you get to know her. She goes to my church.

Great. He’d seen straight through her little charade. A slight shiver ran down her back. Those eyes of his were awfully good at reading her emotions. I’m just feeling anxious this morning. New workplace jitters or something.

He laughed. A professional like you? I find that hard to believe.

She grinned. Well, start believing it. I may pass out if things get too hectic around here.

We’re ready for you Miss Hollister! Nina’s cheerful voice floated up the stairs, interrupting their friendly banter.

You’re being paged, he teased.

Right, said Kate. I’ll see you later, maybe.

He nodded and stepped back inside his office. Through the open door Kate glimpsed framed vintage posters and a few black and white photos before she reluctantly turned away.

The morning went smoothly enough as the group of volunteers stripped the wall paper from the back of the auditorium. Nina made sure they kept their work away from the dusty stage renovations. And Kate split her time between the lobby and her office. She kept up the pace all morning, managing to finish off the tuna sandwich she’d brought from home as she finished drafting the volunteers' work schedule.

The lunch break over, Kate hung around the lobby to see if there was any trouble brewing she should know about. Sure enough, as the volunteers drifted back in, most of them were looking dramatically less enthusiastic than they had that morning. Not surprisingly, several complaints about the work began rising to surface.

It’s just that she’s so slow, Cora, an elderly woman, complained to Kate. And, she thinks she knows everything. That’s what gets me the most, she confided, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at her partner, sitting in a chair across the lobby sipping a soft drink.

Kate took a deep breath. How about I assign different jobs to both you and Emma? Maybe you could assist with some of the clean up from the scraps of wallpaper. We won’t be able to start hanging any of the new until that’s done, she said hastily, noting Cora's indignant look. Obviously, she wanted a more prestigious job than that of janitor.

Well, I suppose, Cora finally agreed. But I want to get to work with the painting once that’s started.

Of course. Kate gave her arm a reassuring pat and scanned the lobby for Nina. Handling the volunteers was part of her assistant’s job, and a situation like this would be a good way to test her skills. But the perky blonde was nowhere in sight, and it was almost ten minutes before Kate spotted her standing in the entrance to the auditorium.

Over here, Nina, she called, motioning for her to come into the lobby.

Nina approached her slowly, a slightly peeved expression on her face. Did you need something, Kate?

Yes. I need you to be a little more…proactive with the volunteers. You know, try to help them work out some of the small differences they keep having. Be a diplomat in times of crisis.

But they won’t listen to me, Nina whimpered. They don’t see me as an authority figure. They know you’re the boss.

Oh, boy. Just keep it professional, Kate. That’s a problem you’ll have to work on. What are you doing right now?

Nina hesitated a moment before answering. Well, I’ve been consulting with Paul.

About. . .the job?

I was just asking him when he thought the balcony would be ready for painting, Nina said defensively. But if you need me to do something else…

Actually, I do. Some of the volunteers need to change partners. If you could help them negotiate their problems, it would help speed things up.

Color rose in Nina’s cheeks. Of course, she said, turning towards the crowd of volunteers.

Kate sighed, pressing a hand to her aching head. Only a few more hours and the work day would be over. But the incident with Nina loomed in her mind for the rest of the day.

Be patient, she reminded herself. After all, the young woman would be under her supervision. It was her job to avoid petty squabbles and setting a poor example. Just help me focus on the task at hand, Lord–and get through the rest of this day.

***

Kate stared critically at her reflection in the mirror. Attempts to straighten her unruly auburn curls had resulted in a look somewhere between vintage seventies and a bad perm. Most of her hair care products were buried at the bottom of a sealed card board box, leaving her nothing but a comb and a bottle of no-frizz spray to work with.

Well, maybe the dim lighting of the restaurant would mask her fashion faux pas. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her dress and adjusted her pearl earrings once again. For the tenth time, she pushed Celeste’s advice from her thoughts. It