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)
The cottage was smaller than our home in Richmond had been. It might even be smaller than my mother’s place in town, but it had loads of charm and tons of character, especially now that Parker was finished with it.
Tucked into the trees at the edge of the lawn, the cottage was a two-story stone building with a steep roof and a front porch that ran the width of the house. While the inside had needed a ton of work, the exterior had been almost perfect, except for the sagging porch.
The stone was local, shot with veins of light gray and brown, giving the cottage a warm, inviting feel. The deep green front door and trim on the windows and porch echoed the surrounding woods, and I always thought it looked like the cottage had grown there rather than being built by human hands.
My mother had lived there after I’d left for college. Back then the outside had been just as charming, but the inside had been dated and worn. Scuffed floors, an ancient kitchen with cabinets that hung at an angle and never closed all the way. Leaking pipes, stained sinks, drafts, and fireplaces that didn’t work.
Parker had wiped all that away with her endless to-do lists and hours of scrubbing. I never would have guessed Parker and I had so much in common, but the first time I saw one of her lists, I knew we were meant to be friends.
Months before, after she left her husband, Parker asked Griffen for a job. On the road to divorce and without a job or any money in the bank, she told me she expected Griffen would put her to work in the Inn. She never expected him to throw the Manor renovations in her lap.
Married right out of college, Parker had never held a regular job. She’d certainly never picked up a hammer or paint bush, much less planned a renovation. Griffen must have seen something Parker hadn’t, because Parker managed the job as if she’d done it a thousand times before.
Once I saw her at work, I wasn’t surprised. She was organized, meticulous, methodical, and had a great sense of style. She was also willing to learn anything she didn’t know. That woman knew how to find a tutorial on the internet like a librarian.
I’d been surprised to find she also knew how to get the most out of a tight budget. Not a skill I’d think a Sawyer would have, especially one who’d been married to a Kingsley. They weren’t quite as wealthy as the Sawyers, but it was close. Still, somewhere along the line, Parker had learned to squeeze a budget until it screamed. I certainly benefited. The cottage was a showpiece. A beautiful little gem. And it was mine.
I shivered with excitement. I was going to have my own bedroom again. It had been so long. First sharing with Nicky at my mother’s house, then sleeping on the same twin bed I’d used as a kid out in the living room of the housekeeper’s apartment. Without my own space, everything felt temporary.
Now I’d have my own room. With a door that shut. And locked. No more Nicky getting his fingers in my face cream because it was the right color to finish his fingerpainting masterpiece. And a real closet instead of a rack in the living room. As far as I was concerned, Parker was a genius. She’d taken out the tiny sewing room upstairs and converted it to a small walk-in. Even better, she’d given me a fireplace.
Even with the unexpected electrical expense and plumbing problems that had popped up, Parker had managed to find room in the budget for a gas fireplace upstairs to supplement the wood-burning one on the first level. I’d had a lot of dreams for a home, but a fireplace in my bedroom was a decadence I never imagined.
On top of that, my bathroom was a dream. Parker had worked some kind of magic on the vintage but stained fixtures. Now everything was gorgeous, gleaming white and chrome. I actually had a slipper tub in my bathroom. Nicky’s bathroom and the powder room on the first floor were small, but they were equally pristine and would be just fine for us. Two and a half bathrooms for only Nicky and me was a heck of a lot better than the ancient bathroom we were sharing in the housekeeper’s apartment.
Years ago, when Heartstone Manor had been run by an army—footmen and butlers, ladies’ maids and parlor maids—that space had been the staff dining room and housekeeper's office. While modern technology meant we’d never again need that many people working in the house, eventually we’d expand the staff. I hoped.
So, now that she was finished with the cottage, Parker’s next project was the gatehouse, despite Hawk’s protests. Griffen had lured Hawk away from Sinclair Security with the promise of yard work, of all things. Apparently, Hawk loved gardening, and the grounds of Heartstone Manor desperately needed someone who cared. After the old groundskeeper retired, Prentice hadn’t replaced him, and by the time we’d all moved in, the weeds and ivy had taken over.