Sarah hadn’t known about her aunt’s poor finances in her latter days. How could she have, when it had been years since she’d had reason to go into any of the four second-level bedrooms while visiting her aunt? She’d had no idea her aunt had been emptying one room after another, each slowly stripped of its treasures. How it must have pained Aunt Jean to let each piece go. If Sarah had known, she’d have taken on another job or moved in and paid rent.

Something. Anything.

“The roof looks new, too,” Bodie said, calling Sarah’s attention back to him.

“I replaced it this past spring.” It was the first thing she’d done after getting her loan. “As a matter of necessity. Apparently, there had been a slow leak for years.” The memory had her stomach dropping. That the wood beneath the roof was so rotted had been a big blow. “There was so much damage that they had to rip out and replace a section of beams and wood in the attic ceiling, too.”

She glanced up at the new roof that topped the mint-green house with its intricate white trim work.

“Fortunately, the interior damage from the leak was limited to a section in the attic.”

She’d had to toss a few boxes of old books, receipts, and papers that had been water-damaged. Someday, Sarah planned to go through the remaining boxes and trunks in the attic in hopes of finding things that had belonged to Aunt Jean or to Sarah’s grandparents. Once she got the downstairs restored to its former glory and Hamilton House was up and running, then she’d make time for going through taped-up boxes with layers of dust on top.

Sarah pointed to the porch that wrapped around one side of the house. “You ready to have a look inside? There’s a lot to be done before I open up the house to visitors.”

They made their way up the porch, Harry at Bodie’s side.

“If you don’t think he’ll bother anything, Harry can come in,” she offered. It was chilly outside, and Harry was so well-behaved, she couldn’t imagine him causing trouble.

Bodie nodded. “He can wait inside the door.” After they followed Sarah inside, he paused and looked at the dog. “Stay.”

After only a moment’s obvious disappointment, Harry laid down on the rug, looking up at his owner with obedient, loving eyes.

Bodie glanced around the foyer of Hamilton House. He took in the curve near the top of the staircase with its beautiful walnut handrail and top-to-bottom antique runner down the center of the wooden steps, the gleaming hardwood floor, and the ornately trimmed ceiling with its decades-old chandelier. His gaze paused at the three photos on the stair wall—a black and white of Uncle Roy’s parents at their wedding, a black and white of Aunt Jean and Uncle Roy on their wedding day, and one of Sarah as a snaggle-toothed little girl. Sarah had complained that the photo needed to be updated, but Aunt Jean had insisted she could only replace it with a black and white wedding photo.