Redheaded Cindy grinned. “Hello will do just fine. Then divvy us up however you want.”
Overwhelmed, Laura wasn’t at all certain how to ask them to help.
“I’m especially helpful in the kitchen,” Katherine suggested. “If that would all right. I could start sorting dishes, pots and pans.”
“Oh, yes,” Laura replied, relieved.
“And I’m good at toting boxes,” Grace added.
“They’re labeled,” Laura said. “With the rooms they belong in. I’m afraid they’re all in a huge pile right now, no rhyme or reason.”
“I can help with the boxes,” Emma pointed out. “Rhyme’s my specialty.”
“And I can help Katherine in the kitchen,” Leah offered.
“So, I can be your helper,” Cindy said. “What were you doing when we got here?”
“Trying to put together a bed,” Laura confessed, holding up a tiny screwdriver, the only one she’d been able to find.
“Ah.” Cindy fished in her pocket for her cell phone. “When all else fails…”
Annie took Laura by the elbow and guided her out to the front porch. “You okay?”
Laura shoved her hands in her pockets. “Yes. Why?”
“I want to help, but I don’t want to pressure you.”
“It’s not that…it’s…” Laura looked out at the quiet street, the old houses that spoke of generations of families living and loving in the same place. “I haven’t been accustomed to anything like this…it will take some getting used to. But I like it.”
“Whew.” Annie let out her breath.
“Didn’t you tell me this was going to be your busy day?”
“Yes, but not for a while. I have time to help.” Together they headed into the house.
Even though Laura wasn’t accustomed to the sound of women’s voices around her, the occasional laughter, she found she liked it immensely. Like a piece that had been missing, the chatter and occasional laughter fit perfectly.
After about a half hour of progress, she heard the low rumble of a man’s voice, accompanied by the tread of boots going up the stairs, then the distinct thud of tools.
Cindy popped her head into the kitchen where Laura was consulting on the placement of dishes. “We’ll have the beds put together in a few minutes if you want to come up and tell us where to position them.”
“What? How?”
“I called my husband, Flynn. I knew he’d make sure the beds were put together right. I’m pretty handy, but I’d hate to try assembling them and have somebody crash in the middle of the night.”
Laura pushed the hair off her forehead. “That would have been an initiation to the new house.”
“I like your spirit!”
That wasn’t something Laura had heard very often. Encouraged, she headed upstairs with Cindy. In Gregg’s room, Flynn, a lean, handsome man, had assembled the bed and was helping Gregg with his computer.
He grinned at her, and she immediately liked the tall man with the ready smile.
“Mom, Flynn makes software programs,” Gregg announced.
“That’s great, sweetie. Hello, and thank you for coming and doing this.”
“Always glad to help new friends.”
Together they quickly figured out where the beds in her bedroom and Gregg’s should go. Kirsten’s took longer.
“I don’t like it there.” Kirsten frowned as they pushed the bed beneath the wide window.
Laura sighed. They’d already moved the bed three times. “We’re running out of places to put it. We can always rearrange later.”
Kirsten’s room had a dormer ceiling, resulting in angled walls. Although architecturally interesting, it made arranging furniture difficult.
Kirsten’s face drooped. “It’s a pokey room.”
“You think so?” Cindy asked. “I guess I’m the weird one, then. This is my favorite room in the house. Before I got married, I lived in a Victorian quite a bit like this one. And it was the interesting rooms like this one that convinced me to live there. I can just picture willowy curtains—and this fabulous window seat, well…I always felt it was so private. I could curl up with a book or music and it was a secret nook, all mine.”
Kirsten looked over at the window seat. “I guess so.”
“I plan to make cushions for it when you decide on your color scheme,” Laura added.
They repositioned the bed one last time and then started on the other pieces. It was especially helpful to have Flynn’s brawn to move the furniture into place. The room looked pretty well put together when they were done. She had hoped by making the room special, it might help to break down Kirsten’s defenses.
“What now?” Flynn asked.
“Aren’t we keeping you from your work?”
Flynn grinned. “One of the bonuses of being boss.”
“We need to make sure we have all the upstairs boxes actually upstairs,” Cindy told him.
“Aye, aye.” He smiled. “Boss at work, that is.”
“Pooh.” Cindy’s red hair seemed to crackle in the outpouring of sunlight from the windows. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s hardly henpecked. Do you know where the boxes with the sheets are?”
Laura felt so inept. “Not really.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll find them. I want to make sure Flynn finds all the boxes that need to come up anyway.”
Shaking her head at the resourcefulness of these women, Laura headed back downstairs. At noon, the doorbell rang. Although Laura had forgotten to plan for lunch, the women hadn’t. Someone had ordered sandwiches—made with homemade bread—from the café down the street, along with soup, salad and brownies.
Even Kirsten relaxed as everyone in the house stopped to eat. The women knew each other so well, by the time lunch was over, the place rang with their laughter.
Laura learned that Katherine was the pastor of the Community Church. She had married her husband, Michael, after moving to Rosewood. Cindy was her best friend and she had married Flynn after the death of her sister—then his wife and mother of his triplets.
Grace had survived a horrific car accident that required numerous surgeries. Which was how she had met her husband, Noah, the finest surgeon in the area. But then, Grace was biased.
Emma had come to Rosewood through the witness protection program. Fortunately, the man who was stalking her had been caught and now was in prison for life. Even more fortunately, she had met her husband in Rosewood— Seth, the man who had refurbished this house.
And Leah had come to Rosewood from Los Angeles, in search of her child, who had been abducted by his father as an infant. Now, she and her son were reunited, and she was married to the man who had loved the boy as his own. They were expecting another child in six months.
Laura wanted to confide her own past, but she couldn’t. Everything she had ever confided to Jerry had been turned around on her, more ammunition for him to belittle her with. Besides, her situation was so humiliating. It seemed as if she’d been ashamed all her life. From childhood when she couldn’t invite friends over because of her parents’ fighting.
Cindy stood and stretched. “If I eat another