that he needs it anymore, the lazy scamp. It’s just a habit now, but we both like it.”
“I can understand why. It smells fantastic.” Faith held out her hand, hoping it wasn’t too grimy. “It’s nice to meet you, Theo. I’m Faith Constable, Dr. Fairmont’s new housekeeper.”
“I knew it. They’re talking about you in town. They said you didn’t look like a housekeeper.” Theo let her gaze skim the mess on the floor. “I’m inclined to agree.”
Faith took a breath. “Well, I—”
“Not that it matters. You’re pretty enough, and young enough—no one will ever care. It’s only when you get to be an old prune like me that people expect you to be good at things.”
Faith stared at the older woman, wishing she could explain why she was here, why she was posing as a housekeeper, when even a blind person could tell she was nothing of the sort. She knew it didn’t really matter what Theo Burke, whoever she was, thought of her. But darn it—she was good at things. Lots of things. Just not domestic things.
“We’d better get this straightened up.” Theo set the casserole, which was wrapped in a thermal covering, on one of the elegant wooden end tables. “Don’t want Reed to come in and find the house a wreck on your first day. Melissa spoiled him rotten, of course. She was the perfect wife. She could scrub tubs, baste a pheasant and win the Miss America contest all at the same time. If she hadn’t been such a sweetie, every female in Firefly Glen would have hated her gorgeous guts.”
Faith blinked. This level of candor was rather amazing. The small-town style, no doubt. In the city, you were lucky to get a hello grunt.
“Anyhow,” Theo continued, “let’s see what can be done. How bloody was the battle? Did you actually kill the poor vacuum, or just maim it?”
“I—” Faith shook her head and numbly picked up the long gray nozzle. The looped end of a metal hanger stuck out like a rude tongue. “To be honest, I don’t know. It all started when I pointed that thing at one of the curtain tie-backs. It just got worse from there.”
Theo laughed, a surprisingly warm, pleasant sound, considering how acerbic her conversation had been so far. “Oh, this is just a flesh wound. Let Dr. Theo do a little surgery.”
As Faith stepped back, she noticed that Spencer had brought Tigger over to get a better look at Theo. Boy and dog were peeking around the edge of a large rose-colored armchair.
Theo saw him at that moment, too. “That your son?”
“My nephew.” Faith tried to motion Spencer out of hiding. “Spencer, this is Ms. Burke.”
But Spencer wasn’t moving. He was just a pair of round, dark eyes under a mess of spiky brown hair. He held Tigger tightly in his arms.
“None of this Ms. Burke stuff. Everybody calls me Theo. Everybody I like, that is, and I already know I like you, Spencer. Know how I know?”
Spencer’s brow wrinkled subtly. Faith could tell he was curious, but of course he didn’t say a word.
Luckily, Theo didn’t seem to require an answer. “I’ll tell you how I know,” she said, unscrewing the body of the vacuum with a tiny silver tool she had whisked out of her pocket. “I know because your dog likes you. Dogs know who the good people are.”
She held out the loose screw. “Hold these for me, would you, Spencer? And don’t drop them.”
To Faith’s amazement, Spencer inched out from behind the chair. He took three steps closer to the vacuum cleaner and opened his small palm. Theo dropped the screws into his hand and went on working, as if nothing peculiar had happened.
Faith, too, tried to pretend nonchalance. It was such a little thing, compared to the old Spencer, who had always been sociable and talkative. But the new Spencer rarely even made eye contact with strangers.
After a few minutes, Theo tugged out the green tassel. It was crumpled and dingy, but intact. Then she wiggled the hanger free, too.
She held it up with a smile. “You were lucky. Could have done some real damage with this, but you just melted the belt.”
She tilted her head and scrutinized Faith, who was sucking on her index finger, trying to soothe it where the nail had broken below the quick. Faith stopped with a guilty start and tucked her hand behind her back as if she had something to hide.
“Okay, I’ve got to know.” Theo grinned, suddenly looking twenty years younger. “It’s none of my business, but I’m going to ask you anyhow. I always do. Anybody can tell you that.”
“Ask me what?”
“What made a woman like you decide to take a job as a housekeeper? I’d be willing to bet the cost of that glamorous manicure that you’ve never actually touched a vacuum cleaner before.”
“Well, of course I ha—”
Theo’s prim silver eyebrows arched, and Faith’s fib died on her lips.
“You’re right,” she said. “I am very new to this. I’ve never used one of these canister vacuums, and I haven’t a clue how to baste a pheasant, either. Sadly, I’m no Melissa Fairmont.”
Theo let out a gruff bark of laughter. “You can say that again. Melissa could have built you a whole new vacuum cleaner with just this hanger, two stamps and a thumbtack.”
Faith smiled ruefully. So Reed Fairmont was used to living with a domestic goddess. Poor man. He volunteered to do a good deed, and look what happened. A domestic dummy invaded his lovely house, drenched his shirt and melted his belt. He was probably already kicking himself hard for being such a patsy.
She took a deep breath. “It’s all right, Theo. I think I know what you’re trying to tell me, and I really do appreciate the warning.”
Theo rose with a grunt and handed the screwdriver to Spencer. “Put that back together for me, would you, please? You saw how I took it apart, right?”
When the little boy accepted the screwdriver, Theo nodded briefly, then turned to Faith. “What exactly do you think I’m trying to tell you?”
“Well…” Faith felt herself coloring. “Just that Melissa Fairmont was a very unusual, very accomplished woman. And that Dr. Fairmont may be disappointed to discover how little his new housekeeper has in common with her.”
“Well, that’s part of it.” Theo smiled. “You may disappoint him in some ways. But you may also make him laugh.” She looked at the broken vacuum.
“In fact, I’m absolutely positive you will. And a little laughter may be what this house needs most of all.”
REED HAD TOYED with the idea of skipping dinner—he had plenty of work to do in the clinic—but he’d finally decided that would be too cowardly.
He had to sit down and share a meal with his new houseguests sooner or later. And, as he’d learned the first day at med school, when it came to facing a problem, sooner was always better.
It wasn’t, in the end, quite as awkward as he’d feared. Theo’s chicken-mushroom casserole was delicious, of course, and Faith had obviously worked to set a homey tone. She’d filled a small cut-glass bowl with yellow apples for a centerpiece, and she had found Melissa’s favorite green-flowered napkins, which looked great against the maple table.
She was good at keeping the conversation going, too. She showed an intelligent—though undeniably artificial—interest in every detail of his veterinary practice. To help her along, Reed trotted out his silliest stories—the duck that bit the sheriff, the lizard that liked to have his tummy rubbed, the bunny that hatched an egg and the cat that delivered her kittens in a birdcage.
He even mentioned that he was heading out after dinner to see those newborn kittens, and suggested that Spencer and Faith could join him if they liked.
But, though both he