Housekeeper Under The Mistletoe

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Cara Colter. Housekeeper Under The Mistletoe

Jefferson took a deep breath and looked into the pleading eyes of the woman who had landed, uninvited, on his doorstep

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Was this who he had become? So embittered by the death of his wife that he could turn a woman so obviously terrified away from his door?

“Geez …” Jefferson muttered under his breath. He was a man who made decisions every day. That was what he did for a living. His decisions often had millions of dollars riding on them, and the livelihoods of thousands of people.

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As she made the winding walk to the front door, she was aware again of a beautiful aroma, deep and woodsy, and a cacophony of birdsong.

It was a double-entry doorway and it was constructed of stainless steel, etched with a geometric pattern of interlocking squares. The leaves of the trees surrounding the house were casting dancing shadows on the surface. Despite the fact it needed a good scrubbing, it was more like a work of art than a door.

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