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renovations.” She paused. “I suppose I shouldn’t call it the tenant house anymore, since it’s going to be my house.”
    “True enough.” Clay met her halfway along the worn path between the barn and the farmhouse where they’d both grown up, left, and come back to. “Did Cam give you his final estimate?”
    Brooke nodded and pulled her blond hair into a ponytail, which she held in place with an elastic she’d had on her wrist.
    “It’s pretty much what we talked about. Right now I’m dying to see the work schedule. I won’t be moving in until well after Christmas, which is fine with me. I have almost a thousand cupcakes to bake between now and New Year’s Eve and the new kitchen at the shop to put together, so I don’t really have time to pack.”
    “Just as well,” Clay told her. “Let Logan have a Christmas here in the farmhouse with Mom and me.”
    Logan was Brooke’s almost eight-year-old son and the apple of Clay’s eye. Since the death of Brooke’s husband, Eric, in Afghanistan almost three years ago, Brooke and Logan had been living on the family farm, which Clay had taken over when their father retired.
    “Mom was hoping to be into her new house by then,” Brooke told him, “or hadn’t you heard? She’s looking forward to hosting a New Year’s Eve party for some of her friends.”
    “She shouldn’t move before Christmas.” Clay frowned. Their mother, also a widow, had just bought herself a spiffy town house in which everything was brand spanking new.
    “That’s her decision, not ours.” Brooke shrugged.
    “Do you think she’ll miss us after she moves out?” Clay asked.
    “You’re kidding, right?” Brooke laughed. “She’s not moving to Canada, Clay. She’s only going across town.”
    “By herself,” he reminded her. “She’s never lived alone before.”
    “Maybe it’s time she did. She married young, had her kids young. Devoted most of her life to Dad and to us. She went from her parents’ house to her husband’s, and after Dad died, Logan and I moved in with her. She’s looking forward to having her own place, to having some time to herself.” Brooke fell in step with her brother. “She’s really excited about her new house and I’m not surprised she wants to share it with her friends, but I do agree, it would be nice if we were all together on Christmas morning. Who knows where any of us will be this time next year.”
    “You’ve got plans that I don’t know about? You and your boyfriend planning on running away together?” he teased. Before she could answer, he added, “Okay, then, leave if you must, but the kid stays here.”
    Brooke laughed. “I doubt I’d ever be able to get Logan to leave the farm now. I’ve never seen him so happy. But no, Jesse and I aren’t planning on leaving town, and I’m not going any farther than right here.” She pointed up ahead to where the path ended at the front porch of the cottage that had been their destination.
    Long known as the tenant’s house, the two-story clapboard had been scraped clean of its old paint and awaited a new coat. The shutters had been removed, scraped, and sanded, and leaned up against the front of the building. The small front porch had also been prepped for painting.
    “Looks like Cam’s guys have been busy,” Clay noted approvingly.
    “The entire exterior has been prepped,” Brooke pointed out. “Cam said the painters will start tomorrow out here while the carpenters continue inside. Come on in, and I’ll show you what they’ve done so far.”
    Brooke unlocked the door and pushed it open.
    “Wow, it sure looks different from when I lived here.” Clay walked around the large front room, nodding at the work that had already been done. “New windows, I see. That’s a real improvement. That first winter I stayed here, I thought I’d freeze to death. The wind whipped right around those sashes, so the house was always cold. I took to watching TV upstairs after that.”
    “New