My back ached and protested as I pulled the ladder from the workshop that adjoined Jordan's suite out in the yard. Since my stash of pillows and blankets was now in demand, I broke down and added the pillows from my aunt's old bed to my makeshift mattress on the floor. I even spent the night wrapped in her fluffy comforter.

My first morning with guests went about as well as someone new to the experience could expect. Jordan and I decided on pancakes, cranberry syrup, and bacon for breakfast. I kept to the kitchen, loading up plate after plate with stacks of pancakes, while Jordan served the hungry crowd in the dining room. After they departed and headed off to town to enjoy their Saturday, Jordan left me to clean the kitchen on my own. He instead went to work on an electrical problem listed in his inspection report.

Once I finished with the kitchen, I called him back to help me with the rooms. He showed me everything that needed to be cleaned and how to avoid the stuff we weren't allowed to touch. Even with his help, it felt like an eternity before we were done. I thought I'd found my freedom after we finished the rooms, but just as I was about to lie down for a nap, Jordan knocked on the door. Apparently, it was time to set up the crafting supplies for the guests' make-your-own-ornament hour.

We gained two more couples that night and I spent a good chunk of my evening trying to keep up with the demand for hot cocoa and cookies. Thankfully, Jordan had bought a large box of cookies from the bakery just as he'd done the previous night. I went to bed without touching the work on my computer. In fact, my laptop hadn't even made it out of its cozy bed inside my bag.

On Sunday, we served a meal of biscuits with sausage gravy that came out of Georgina's recipe book. I didn't make the sausage by hand, but I managed to make the gravy on my own. We served it with some sliced fruit that I had to chop and clean well before the sun rose.

Jordan once again helped me with the rooms and told me he'd keep doing so for as long as I wanted, but that it would delay his progress on the repair list. I told him I'd manage after this weekend, but he answered that assertion with a smug smirk.

This time I had the sense to actually check the day's events and was pleased to find that since it was Sunday, they'd be going into town for carols, and that particular Sunday was special as it was also the town tree lighting. A town sponsored shuttle bus would come to whisk Jordan and the guests away to the ceremony, while I stayed behind and finally got some work done. Which is why I thought it was perfectly okay to use my free time in the afternoon to retrieve the ladder in the shed and drag it up to the expansive patio. I propped it up near the side entrance to the house and made my way to the roof.

"What are you doing?"

I didn't bother looking over at Jordan. I hadn't packed more than a pair of flats and a pair of cozy slippers for my weekend in Hereford Hills. Neither was the best apparel for balancing on top of a rickety ladder, and my nerves kept me from making any sudden movements.

"I'm looking for something."

"Okay. And that something is?"

"Here." I bit the tip of my thumb as I scrutinized the nearly foot long stretch of wrought iron posts and railings along the roof's edge. "I'm sure it has to be this. The points are too sharp. They haven't weathered enough. This has to be it."

"What?" A little chuckle rattled his voice. "What are you talking about? That's just some decorative trim that also helps keep the snow from crashing down on us in the winter."

"Yes, I know." Satisfied with my find, I began my descent. "I don't care about what it is, I was trying to figure out who made it."

"Probably some guy a good century or two ago."

I hopped down and, once stable on my feet, I looked up to find Jordan standing right by the ladder, bracing on to it with a rugged smirk curling his lips. I tried not to note how his smile accentuated the curve and shape of his trimmed beard and brightened his blue eyes. Instead, I looked back up at my discovery and raised a pointed finger to it.

"Not that portion of it. It was made by a woman in the seventies."

"A woman... but that would mean that Georgina did it." He glanced up to where I indicated Georgina's handiwork and, with his eyes turned elsewhere, I found myself a bit more capable of breathing.

"That's because she did." A shy smile lit my face as I drank in the look of contemplation pinching his brow and stretching his lips into a delicate O. "My great grandfather was a blacksmith. Georgina had learned the trade by watching him. She worked at his shop for a few years while she attended school to become a secretary. Apparently, it was the only real skill she had out of high school."

"No kidding." He climbed up the ladder to get a look at the spot I pointed out. "How did you know that? How did you know to look here?"

I cleared my throat a few times, debating if I was really willing to share my secret. I both wanted to revel in the surprise my knowledge brought, but keep this connection with my aunt to myself. The whole town knew Georgina, but I had a missing link that none of them knew existed. I didn't want to give it up.

However, I also promised Jordan I'd look into the Christmas decorations and since no one seemed to believe I'd follow through with what I said I'd do...

"I... I found that journal you were talking about."

I stepped a little way onto the patio, looking out over the field behind the house. A long stretch of dull golden-green sprawled before me, the edges lined with a thick wall of trees leading to a forest. The closest thing to it in the city was the park a few blocks from my office building. However, no matter how far the trees stretched, skyscrapers still towered above them. I felt small looking towards an endless sea of naked branches and spears of evergreen.

"Were the decoration notes in there?" Now down from the ladder, he stood beside me and joined my gaze out to the horizon where the hazy figures of mountains lingered.

"Yes," I answered after some time. I broke my gaze and turned to face him. "But she didn't complete her designs. You've got plenty to work with, but I'm not sure how you'll do the special tree decorations she wanted. She didn't have the details down for them."

"Well, it's a start." He bowed his head down a little to meet my eyes. "Thank you for finding it."

"Yeah, well," I said, looking away, "I can go get the journal for you so you can see what's in it and..."

"No, keep it for now. It sounds like you've been doing some reading. I don't want to interrupt that. We'll pull it out to look at the notes during the week when things aren't so busy. For now, you should get to know your aunt."

A fierce blush burned my cheeks, but he had the decency to step away and turn his attention to where the drive peeked around the side of the house.

"The bus will be here soon. Will you be joining us?" He looked back at me from over his shoulder. "I know you don't sing, but you shouldn't miss the tree lighting just because of that."

"I should really get some work done." I glanced up at the corner window that marked my room.

"Does anyone really expect you to get work done on your vacation?"

"You do apparently."

"You know I meant those important stock portfolios of yours. The ones that you're doing for your job. A job you don't know why you're working at."

I answered with a glare, but that only widened his impish grin.

"Well," he continued, "do they expect you to do any work during a holiday or not?"

I shrugged and turned away. "No, I guess not."

"Then, let's go." His voice was closer than it should have been. I looked back over just in time to see him reaching out and grabbing my hand. "Come on, we'll go inside and see if you bothered to pack anything besides a pair of jeans and a sweater. If not, we can get some gloves and a hat in town. You'll freeze otherwise."

I wanted to protest, but the words failed to find my tongue and my feet ignored all orders not to follow him. And, despite all reason, I wasn't upset about it. In fact, my heart pounded and my smile threatened to expose the truth of the warmth spreading through my skin.