“That’s not the world calling for her,” Maybelle advised drily, gluing down a row of faux pearls. “That’s your hearing aid squeaking and squawking.”

More good-natured laughter sounded around the table as their assembly line of snowflakes continued.

“I’ll remind you, I don’t wear hearing aids. Even though I am the world’s greatest grandma, I’m still younger than you old biddies.” Chin held high, Claudia gave each of them a pert “so there” look, then tilted her head toward Sarah. “Except that one, and she seems destined to toss her life away fixing up Jean’s crumbling old mansion, rather than expanding her horizons.”

“Aunt Jean’s house isn’t crumbling.” Not anymore, thanks to her loan and her having spent every spare moment over the past year working on restoring the outside and the downstairs to their former glory. She’d worry about the upstairs once she got the bed and breakfast up and going. “It just needed some TLC.”

And a repair guy to stick around to finish up the job. She’d had a few good contractors for the bigger jobs, thank goodness. But none of them were currently available, and the independent handymen weren’t working out. Didn’t anyone take pride in their work? If so, she’d yet to find that elusive handyman who paid attention to details.

Hopefully God would answer her prayers and the right person would reply to her help-wanted ad. Otherwise, she’d have to delay her planned Grand Opening of Hamilton House.

The thought of that made her heart hurt a little. She wanted to do this for Aunt Jean.

Please, Lord, let them respond.

The door to the community room opened, and all heads turned to see who’d shown up to join their ornament-making festivities.

Sarah’s eyes widened at the unfamiliar six-foot-plus man wearing jeans and a sherpa-lined blue jean jacket. He rubbed his hands, warming his bare fingers from the chill outdoors as he surveyed the Christmas chaos Sarah adored.

Ask and the Lord shall deliver.

Literally.

Okay, so she didn’t really believe the stranger was there to answer her prayers, but still, his timing was impeccable. Who was he?

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one wondering. It wasn’t that one could hear a pin drop—not with the holiday music playing—but there was a collective curiosity pervading the now-muted room that had been loud with chatter prior to his arrival.

“I’ve been extra-good this year and Santa’s delivering early,” Rosie whispered under her breath, elbowing Claudia. Her lively eyes sparkled with mischief. “That’s exactly what I asked for.”

Giving the newcomer a once-over, Maybelle snorted. “You ain’t been that good your whole life.”

Claudia snickered. “That’s the truth.”

“That one there makes me wish I had been,” Rosie sighed, fanning her face. “He’s easy on these old eyes. A few years back, I’d have invited him over for some of my grandma’s cinnamon bread. That never fails to warm a man over to my way of thinking.”

“Charles didn’t think much of your grandmother’s cinnamon bread,” Ruby reminded, a cheeky smile on her face as she happily sewed white yarn in and out of the plastic canvas piece she now held.