Shadows on a Maine Christmas (Antique Print Mystery Series Book 7) Read Free

on duty Nick helped me build a handicapped bathroom in the corner of her room.”
    “Wow!” Maggie said. “You’ve done all that this fall?”
    “That’s the only construction, other than the ramp I added to the outside steps in the back. Aunt Nettie didn’t want a ramp out front. Her room is just big enough for a bed, even a hospital bed should she ever need one, and a bureau and closet. I’ll warn you, although I bought a TV for her room, and she rests there a lot, she spends most of her time in the living room, or here in the kitchen, instructing me on how I should cook or clean the house.”
    “Oh, Will.”
    He shrugged. “It’s really not so bad. Fixing the house has kept me busy, and I do love the lady. And once a week or so Nick comes by and pulls me out to have a beer, which is good. And you’ll remember I have cousins in the vicinity, too.”
    “I remember,” said Maggie, choosing a piece of shortbread for herself. Will’s cousins were idiosyncratic Mainers, for sure. But they’d come through in past emergencies.
    “None of them makes cookies this good, though,” said Will. “How have you kept talent like this hidden so long?”
    “This is the only year we’ve spent Christmas together. My cookie-making skills only emerge in December,” Maggie answered.
    “Hmm. Well, if we spent more time together that might have to change. My only problem is deciding which kind I like best—the mincemeat-filled, or these lemon ones. The ones with the sprinkles are pretty good, too. I’ll have to have another, to check it out.” He reached toward the plate, which was now almost empty.
    “If we spent more time together”? What did he mean by that? She swirled the cognac in her glass and took another sip. It was too early in her visit to start analyzing. So far she was pleased at the reception her cookies had received (maybe six tins of cookies weren’t going to be enough) but shocked at the amount of care Aunt Nettie needed.
    “So what have you done with all your stuff? From your business, and your home in Buffalo?” she asked.
    “I’ve moved a few of my things into Aunt Nettie’s old bedroom upstairs, which I’ve turned into my office.”
    “Your office?” Maggie interrupted.
    “I’m trying a couple of new ways to make money from my antiques. Anyway,” Will continued, clearly allowing no time for questions now, “we’ll have time to talk about that later. My business inventory is divided between a storage unit outside town and the barn here. Which means shoveling out any vehicles I’m using, since there’s no space for them undercover in winter.”
    “I noticed Aunt Nettie’s car was the one closest to the road.”
    “I’ve been using it. She hasn’t fully accepted that she shouldn’t drive, so she hasn’t gotten rid of her car, and it gets better mileage and is more practical for driving locally than my RV. I’ve about decided to let the RV be snowed in. I won’t be doing any antiques shows this winter. I was tempted by a couple of local ones, but I’m not ready to leave Aunt Nettie for a twelve-hour day, much less two or three. And shoveling out both an RV and a car almost every day is getting to be a hassle.”
    Will had his hands full. She hadn’t thought about details like snow.
    “One positive change, though,” he added, smiling at her. “The bedroom you used in August is still the guest bedroom, but with Aunt Nettie downstairs…my dear, you have your choice.”
    “You mean,” she said, coyly, “you’re offering to give me your bedroom while I’m visiting?”
    “In no way,” he said, reaching out, and stroking her hand, now well-warmed from hot chocolate, cognac, and his presence. “I’m offering to share. After all, Maine nights can get wicked cold.”
    “So I’ve heard,” Maggie replied, as seriously as she could manage under the circumstances. “That would be the more practical plan, now, wouldn’t it?”
    “And you and I have always been two uncommonly