But now, when he left—as he’d have to do, sooner or later—how much would he be leaving behind?

Sarah had been both looking forward to and dreading pulling out Aunt Jean’s decorations. She loved Christmas, loved seeing the house decked in garland and bows, loved seeing the twinkling lights.

Loved seeing the ornaments they’d made together over the years.

But the last time she’d seen these decorations had been after she’d taken them down from her aunt’s tree and packed them. She’d helped do so for the past several years, but never with a heavy heart.

Last year, she hadn’t known what would happen to Hamilton House, to Aunt Jean’s things, with her passing.

Aunt Jean had willed everything to her. There had been just enough left in her aunt’s accounts that when it was settled, Sarah had inherited the house and its contents free and clear.

Contents that included her aunt’s precious decorations.

The idea of decorating without Aunt Jean had been weighing on her heart, but unpacking the decorations with Bodie didn’t seem nearly as daunting.

Was that why she’d asked him to help her? As a distraction?

She tried telling herself it was, but couldn’t convince herself. He was a great distraction, but that hadn’t been her motivation.

Being with Bodie had. Which came with its own set of problems, but tonight Aunt Jean’s decorations took precedence.

“You should consider using one of the suites for storage, so you don’t have to traipse up and down two flights of stairs to get to your decorations,” Bodie suggested wryly after they’d made a dozen or so trips.

“What’s wrong? Too out of shape to help me carry the rest down?” she teased, grabbing another box to carry down the two flights.

Okay, so her calves were burning and she had no doubt she’d be sore in the morning, but Bodie appeared to be in peak physical condition. The Butterflies had told her he jogged every morning before coming to work at Hamilton House. No doubt they knew that from their spying. She’d ordered them to quit, but they kept ignoring all her protests. Poor Bodie.

She turned to see if he was behind her, but he hadn’t picked up his box yet. He just stood there, watching her.

“Bodie?” she asked, not sure why he wasn’t right behind her.

His gaze narrowed, and he motioned for her to go ahead. “Nothing. Go on. I’ll be right behind you.”

Doing so, Sarah set down the box she carried, glanced around the living room. It looked like Christmas had exploded in the room. Unable to resist adding to the mounting chaos, she opened the box she’d just carried to pull its contents out.

One by one, she removed the precious ornamental snowmen her aunt had collected and removed them from their protective bubble wrap.

“There you are,” she said when Bodie came back into the room with a box. “I was about to send a rescue party after you.”