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The woman—who clearly thought an air purifier was a poor substitute for an entirely different room—sighed with a long-suffering resignation that suggested she was accustomed to being disappointed by the world’s failure to meet her exacting standards.

Mabel found herself slightly irritated by the entire exchange. At least this was probably the last time she’d ever have to think about this high-maintenance stranger, she told herself. Hopefully she wouldn’t stop by the toy store to look for something for her grandchildren. As long as she didn’t pop up after today, she’d become nothing more than an entertaining anecdote to share with George over dinner.

The sound of familiar footsteps drew her attention to the doorway, and she saw George walk in, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of her that never failed to make her heart skip. His work clothes were dusty and his hair was slightly disheveled, but to Mabel he looked absolutely perfect.

“There’s my favorite lunch delivery service,” he said, crossing the room to plant a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Perfect timing too. I just finished testing the new circuit breakers in the east wing.” He glanced over at Christopher. “I still need to check out the west side, but there shouldn’t be any more power fluctuations in the rooms on that breaker. The wiring looks good now.”

“Amazing,” Christopher said with genuine relief. “You’ve been a lifesaver.”

“I’ll have it all fixed before Christmas,” George promised. “Might be a bit of a slow task, coming back and forth from the farm, but I’ll get it handled.”

“I know you will.” Christopher smiled gratefully. “You’ve done great work.”

“And who is this?” The aristocratic woman spoke up. “I’m afraid we haven’t been introduced.”

Mabel watched with growing unease as the woman’s entire demeanor shifted. Why does she want to be introduced to George? she thought irritably. It wasn’t as if she’d asked to be introduced to Mabel.

The woman’s expression softened from imperious demand to something approaching coquettish interest, and it set Mabel’s teeth on edge.

“Oh,” Christopher said, a little distracted. “George Lowery, meet Mrs. Eda Leopold. She’s staying with us through the New Year.”

“Widow Leopold,” the woman corrected with a flutter of her eyelashes that made Mabel want to roll her eyes. “Please, call me Eda. And Mr. Lowery, I must say, it’s such a pleasure to meet a man who clearly takes pride in his craftsmanship. There’s something so… masculine about a man who works with his hands, don’t you think?”

Mabel felt her stomach clench as Eda stood to extend a perfectly manicured hand toward George, her fingers lingering in his grasp just a beat longer than was strictly necessary. The woman’s introduction was so over-the-top, so blatantly flirtatious, that it bordered on parody. But what made it worse—what made Mabel’s jaw tighten with an emotion she refused to acknowledge as jealousy—was George’s response.

He was being polite. Perfectly, infuriatingly polite. Not his grumpy, dismissive self in the slightest, which was what she’d expected in response to something so ridiculous.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Leopold… Widow Leopold,” George replied with a pleasant smile. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay in Fir Tree Grove.”

“Oh, it’s a charming little town,” Eda practically purred, somehow managing to make “little” sound both condescending and endearing. “Although I must admit, the lodging here hasn’t been quite up to my standard. But it sounds as if you’re fixing all that, aren’t you?” Her gaze was far too appreciative as she took George in.

Mabel knew she was being irrational. Of course she wanted George to be polite to the guests, it wouldn’t be good for Christopher to have the man standing in for his handyman be rude. It was best to be courteous to everyone, of course, even to over-perfumed widows with delusions of grandeur and an apparent talent for laying it on thick enough to pave a highway.

But knowing she was being irrational didn’t make the tight feeling in her chest any less uncomfortable. There was something about the way Eda was looking at George that made Mabel want to step in between them and shoo her off.

“Well,” George said, turning back to Mabel with a softer smile on his face, “I should probably take that lunch break while the food’s still warm. There’s no one in the dining room right now, if we want to go sit in there. That all right, Christopher?”

“Sure,” he said affably. “We put out a light spread for guests about one-thirty, so you have plenty of time.”

“Mabel?” George looked at her, his expression turning slightly quizzical as he saw the look on her face.

“Of course,” Mabel replied, her voice coming out stiffer than she’d intended. She rose from her chair and picked up the takeout bag, forcing herself to smile normally even though her facial muscles felt like they were made of wood.

As they walked toward the door, Mabel could feel Eda’s eyes following George’s movement, and she had to resist the urge to take his arm in a possessive gesture that would have been completely out of character for her. She was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake, not some insecure teenager worried about competition from the new girl in school.

The lobby felt refreshing somehow, after the overwhelming presence of the widow, and the cheery, festive atmosphere of the dining room, with its holiday centerpiece and red velvet table runner, the big windows looking out to the backyard, felt like a relief. Mabel tried to let the ridiculous thoughts clouding her head float away, but it was hard to let go of the feeling that the widow had left her with.

“So how’s the electrical work going?” Mabel asked as they sat down and she started to unpack lunch, determined to focus on normal conversation topics and ignore the way Eda Leopold’s perfume seemed to linger in her nostrils like a bad smell.

“Better than expected, actually,” George replied, giving her a smile as she set the to-go bowl of beef stew in front of him, along with the paper sleeve containing the fresh, still-warm bread and the small cup of butter. “The original wiring was in worse shape than Christopher realized, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. I’ll have it all tip-top by Christmas.”

Mabel kept the smile on her face, unpacking her winter pear salad and turkey sandwich on sourdough with cranberry mayo. She tried to shake off the lingering irritation that Eda Leopold’s presence had stirred up.

“This smells incredible,” George said, taking his first spoonful. “You spoil me, you know that?”

“It’s just takeout from Maplewood,” Mabel replied, but she felt a flutter of pleasure at his appreciation. “Nothing special.”

“It’s special because you thought to bring it to me,” George said simply, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “That’s what makes it special.”