Home to Safe Harbor. Kate Welsh

But her mother was afraid a stranger coming in and doing the things Diane used to do would upset the girls. It made sense at the time,” he added, not wanting Justine to think he was rejecting her idea out of hand.

      “It may have been a mistake then but I think the two of you have carried this burden long enough. Watching Leslie tonight, I couldn’t help but think she might feel as overwhelmed as you do. Leslie’s still just a child. She tries so very hard to be helpful. Almost too hard.”

      “She’s been like that ever since Diane got sick. Mary was around a lot more then, but even so, Les pitched right in to fill in the gaps. Are you saying you think that’s a bad thing?”

      “I don’t honestly know. I can’t see that learning to handle responsibility is a bad thing, but maybe too much could be overwhelming. You did say she complained about all your activities together centering around chores. As I said, I have no way of knowing what she’s thinking, so I could be wrong. But I did a lot of filling in for my mother at Leslie’s age and I never stopped eating as Les seems to have.” Justine shrugged as if to admit that kids were baffling.

      Les was his problem. He didn’t want to burden the pretty preacher overly much, and she seemed so concerned. “That’s the trouble with parenthood,” he said, walking away to drop into his favorite chair. “Kids don’t come with instructions written on their bottoms.”

      Justine chuckled as he’d meant her to and joined him, sitting on the love seat next to his chair. “And all the books written on the subject contradict each other.”

      “Exactly. So you think a housekeeper might help?”

      “I don’t see how it could hurt.”

      Neither did he, but he didn’t know that many people in Safe Harbor yet and he hated relying on Ray any more than he already had. Both Ray and Julie had done so much for him and the girls already. He couldn’t have them looking for a housekeeper, too.

      “I actually have someone in mind,” Justine was saying, coming to his rescue. “You might know her. Elizabeth Neal. She was Safe Harbor’s post-mistress until she retired. Elizabeth is alone in the world, so she fills her life with activities like singing in the choir, organizing the town’s Harvest Fest and cooking for the needy. She actually complained last week that the Harvest Festival wasn’t the trouble it used to be. She’s done it so often and has it so well organized that it practically puts itself on. She told me that for the first time in her life she’s sorry she never married. I think she’s lonely and missing having the children and grandchildren her friends enjoy so much.”

      “I think I know her. Yeah. The Harvest Fest Lady. Short? White hair? Real grandmotherly looking and always smiling?”

      “That’s Elizabeth. I’ll bet she’d even be glad to fill in with the girls on days when you have to work and it doesn’t coincide with school or the After-School Days program. She’s seventy, but I’m sure she’d be able to do this with one hand tied behind her back. The woman wears me out at the church. Just don’t ask her to sew anything. You might not like the results.”

      Matt shrugged, not about to let a possible gem slip through his fingers over a few stitches. “That’s what the tailor shop is for. Lead me to this wonder,” he all but begged. This was for the girls, and Elizabeth Neal sounded like the missing piece of a puzzle—a perfect fit.