“I may or may not have failed art class in school.”

Smiling at his answer, she shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

His brow arched. “Why not?”

After first wiping her hands over her apron, she put them on her hips. “I’ve seen your drawings. Besides, you, Bodie Lewis, don’t do anything halfway. Which is why I’m counting on you to help me have lots of snowflake pieces cut for tomorrow’s session with the Butterflies.”

“I’m not really going to be wielding scissors?”

She shrugged. “If you’ll cut the canvas, that’ll be a huge help, but we could just as easily cut pieces and decorate them ourselves if you prefer. Either way will end up with the same result—our having more snowflakes to sell at our booth.”

Although he didn’t look like he wanted to say yes, he only hesitated another moment before he nodded. “If you need me to help cut snowflakes, I’ll cut snowflakes. I’m here to help you, Sarah.”

Her gaze met his and it struck her just how much Bodie had helped already.

It would be easy to get used to him being around, to leaning on him. She couldn’t let that happen. Not beyond what she’d hired him to do. Eventually, he’d leave. He was just passing through Pine Hill, not there to stay.

Still, he was there now, and she enjoyed his being there.

“You know, if I can’t rustle up more volunteers for our caroling, I’m going to remind you how much I need your help with that, too,” she teased, ignoring that he’d already said he wouldn’t be in town.

“You’d regret it. I’m worse at singing than I am at crafting,” he assured, not reminding her of his earlier comment. He leaned against the kitchen island and watched her wash off zucchini. He gestured to what she was doing. “Need me to help do that or chop something?”

“Will I regret it if I say yes?” she teased, tossing his words back at him.

His lips twitching, he shrugged. “One way to find out.”

Wielding the scissors for cutting plastic crafts felt strange—frivolous, even. But once he got the pattern in his head, Bodie cut canvas. It didn’t take a genius, just attention to detail. He could handle that. Attention to detail had been key to being good at his job for years.

And yet, crafting in a homey kitchen with the most upbeat woman he’d ever met wasn’t something he’d ever seen himself doing. This saying thank-you for his quilt had him slipping down a rabbit’s hole into so many things he’d never expected.

“How is it you can cut two to my one and I’ve done this dozens of times?” Sarah complained, eyeing his stack that towered above hers.

“Fast learner?”

“Apparently.” Sarah laughed. “I always have to stop between every few cuts to count to make sure I have the right number of block spaces.”

Bodie made one last snip, then stacked the perfectly shaped piece on top of the ones she’d cut, upping her stack. “Each side is the same, so it’s just a matter of getting a plan in your head, then executing it.”