“It’s going to take a long time and a lot of money,” Shelby said. “But I plan to turn the manor into a bed-and-breakfast.”
Ely nodded. “Could you use some help getting the grounds in shape?”
Shelby’s spirits soared. “I’d love it. But right now all I can afford are these two hands.” She held them up.
“What if you didn’t have to pay?”
Shelby paused and eyed the old man closely. She didn’t like to take handouts. And he couldn’t possibly handle the hot, humid summer weather. “That’s awfully nice of you, Mr. Cullen, but this is a big job.”
“I know. I did it for over thirty years.”
She stared at the man. “You were the gardener for Stewart Manor?”
He nodded happily. “I used to prune Miss Hannah’s prize-winning roses. Mowed the lawns and trimmed all the hedges. Now I know I’m older and slower these days, but it’s been hard for me to stand by and watch the place go downhill since Miss Hannah’s passing.” His eyes raised to Shelby’s. “I can still be useful.”
“You sure? I could really use the help, Ely, but I don’t want you to be overworked.”
“I won’t, ’cause I’m going to bring my grandson with me to do the heavy stuff.”
“Then I have to insist on paying him.”
He smiled. “We’ll work something out. Right now let’s just spruce up the place a little.”
“I want that as badly as you do,” Shelby said, finally feeling as if things were going in her favor.
Later that afternoon Rafe walked into Maria’s Ristorante and sat down at the end of the bar in the section reserved for Maria’s family.
He was a little early for dinner, but he wanted to talk to his brother, Rick, and this was the best place to find him. Rick’s wife, Jill, had agreed to work the afternoon shift until she began her teaching job in the fall. The two had only been married a month and they were inseparable.
Rafe envied his brother. Rick had found love, and more importantly, he hadn’t been afraid to go after what he wanted. That had been Jill. Rafe hadn’t had time to find and court a wife. Not that he’d wanted one.
If the Covelli curse wasn’t enough to deter Rafe from finding love, he’d had plenty to handle since his father’s accident and death two years ago. Being the eldest son, Rafe had been responsible for Nonna Vittoria, his mother, Maria, and sister, Angelina. And he couldn’t forget the family construction business, Covelli and Sons. Things had gone sour when his father’s accident had been blamed on substandard materials, and Rafaele Covelli, Sr., had been the contractor for the building. It had taken a few months, but with the help of Rick and their cousin Tony, Rafe had gotten the business back on track. They were still searching for the creeps responsible for the accident, and Rafe vowed he wasn’t going to stop until he’d cleared his father’s name.
Recently the family had branched out into different business ventures and were doing well. They even had enough work to employ a bigger crew. But Covelli and Sons had never been about quantity. It was quality that counted, and Rafe had always been the best custom carpenter he could be. His dad taught him that.
That was why he’d laid down the law to Shelby Harris. He remembered the way he’d left her on the porch of Stewart Manor. Her long, jean-clad legs, her emerald-green eyes... Why did he feel as if he’d deserted her?
Because he knew Gus Norton did shoddy work. That man was quick to cut corners. Rafe hated the thought of Gus laying his grimy hand on any of the beautiful woodwork in that house.
“Hey, bro.”
Rafe turned to see Rick coming toward him carrying Jill’s son, Lucas. The eighteen-month-old boy grinned and reached out for his newly acquired uncle.
Rafe took the boy and sat him on the bar. “Hello, Lucas.”
“Hi,” Lucas said, acting shy.
Rafe looked at his brother. “I take it you’re both visiting a certain pretty blond waitress.”
“Yeah,” Rick said as his gaze wandered over to where Jill waited on a table. “It’s tough having her at work all day.”
“Poor thing.” He tickled his nephew’s chin. “Most people have to work for a living.”
“Hey, I work,” Rick said. “I’ve been replacing the hardwood flooring in the living room at the house.” He was talking about the Victorian home on Ash Street that he and Jill had bought a few months back. After moving in a month ago, they’d decided to take their time and redo each room. So far they’d finished the kitchen, master bedroom and Lucas’s room.
“I ran into another fixer upper today. Shelby Harris.”
“She’s the one who bought the big old Stewart place?”
“Yeah. She plans on opening a bed-and-breakfast. It’s a mess right now. You could spend months working on that place. But the craftsmanship is incredible. Dad would have loved it.”
“Didn’t he do some work there when we were kids?”
Rafe nodded. “He designed kitchen cabinets for Mrs. Stewart about twenty years ago. I didn’t go in the kitchen today.”
“So what are you doing for this Ms. Harris?”
“Nothing.”
Rick frowned. “She didn’t like your ugly mug?”
“I was too expensive for her. I think she overextended herself buying the place. Not enough money left over to do any restoring. I don’t think she had any idea what it would cost in time and materials.” He shook his head. “That’s one stubborn woman.”
“Ohh, so you’ve noticed she’s a woman. That’s good. Is she young? Old? Pretty?”
Rafe shrugged. “She’s about our age, and I didn’t pay any attention to what she looked like,” he lied.
“Oh, no. You are in trouble, bro, if you can’t remember whether or not she’s pretty. You’ve been too long without female companionship.”
Rafe gave him a pointed look. “When have I had time? I’ve been trying to keep the business together.”
“And doing a wonderful job, I might add.” Rick opened a package of bread sticks and gave one to Lucas. “I hope you know how much I appreciated your keeping things going while I was away all those years.”
Rafe knew the guilt his younger brother felt for joining the marines, then going to Texas to find his fortune in oil, rather than staying home to work in the family business.
“I wanted the business to keep going—for dad. We don’t have to worry about our independent mom, because she has the restaurant. But Covelli and Sons is our legacy.” It was more than that to Rafe. He remembered his father teaching him about woodworking when he was a child and talking about his sons someday joining the business. Rafe had wanted nothing more than to become an expert carpenter like his father, the man he was named after.
Rick broke into his thoughts. “Well, now it looks like you have more than enough to keep busy,” Rick said. “Charlie told me you’re about ready to rent out the storefront offices.”
Rafe nodded. “I’m putting the ad in next week for that space and also the three low-income apartments upstairs. If you hadn’t been off fixing up your own house, you could keep up with these things.” He turned to his little nephew. “Right, kid?”
Lucas nodded. “Right.”
Rick smiled. “Things have sure turned