Honestly. Every time I think we can’t possibly get this place ready, someone else shows up to help.”
The women—and a few men—in Winnie’s circle had rallied around the project. Abby strongly suspected that her help wasn’t really necessary. If she hadn’t been there to coordinate things, Winnie still would have been fine. Sofia Navarro likely would have taken charge and organized teams to take care of every item on Winnie’s to-do list.
Since Thanksgiving, Abby and the other Silver Belles had put up and decorated more than a dozen Christmas trees in the various rooms of the house. This one was almost the last.
The Silver Belles had picked specific decorations for each tree. After talking it over, Winnie had decided to do an underlying theme of Christmas Through the Years for the house tours. The music and the tours themselves would focus on the different ways the holidays had been celebrated at the house throughout its existence, from frontier days to now.
Of the trees they had decorated, one of her favorites was done in 1950s style, with old 45 records as ornaments and a huge pink-and-black poodle skirt around the base of the tree. Another was an old-fashioned cowboy tree, decorated with gingham ribbon, strings of popcorn and homespun ornaments.
Of course, the angel room had an angel-themed tree, and the nutcracker tree would definitely be another crowd-pleaser.
This was the last tree she had to decorate, except for the giant twenty-foot-tall tree in the great room.
She was going to have to find someone else to help her with that one, but she knew Mariah had to leave for work shortly.
“You’ve been wonderful,” she said now to the woman she considered a good friend after the past several days. “Thank you for your help.”
“I only wish I could come more often. My work schedule right now is killer. I’m working so much overtime. I hope things relax a little when we actually do the tours on Friday.”
“Who watches Dakota for you?”
“He goes to a good preschool three days a week while I work the day retail job, and then his dad usually takes him on the weekends so I can do my bartending gig.”
“When do you find time to paint?” Winnie spoke up from her easy chair where she had alternated between offering them advice and doing sudoku puzzles.
“I try to paint after he goes to bed or sometimes early in the morning.” Mariah shrugged. “When you’re an artist, you find time whenever you can to create.”
What a struggle that must be, trying to juggle her creative endeavors around the jobs that put food in her son’s mouth.
Abby was deeply grateful that of all her worries, money really wasn’t one. As a nurse, she earned a decent wage and Kevin had held a healthy life-insurance policy. Added to that, the hospital had paid her a settlement after his death, which she had tucked away for Christopher’s college expenses.
She wasn’t Lancaster-family wealthy, but she had enough for her needs and a little extra.
“I would love to see some of your art,” she said. “Where are you showing it?”
She didn’t have anywhere to hang art right now, but that would change once she and Christopher were settled in Austin.
“The Silver Rose gallery in town. It’s off of Center Street downtown. I’ve had a show there for about a month now.”
“I’ll take a look.”
“Well, I hope you like it.”
“She will,” Winnie piped up confidently. Did the woman know her that well already, or was she merely that certain of the artwork’s appeal?
“What about you? Do you paint or sculpt or do anything creative like that when you’re not saving lives at the hospital?”
Since she had come to Colorado, she was increasingly determined to pick up a few more hobbies once she settled in Texas.
“I’m afraid not. I recently started knitting, but I’m not very good at it,” she said.
“Do you sing? We can always use more strong voices in the Belles.”
“Not me,” she said quickly. “Sorry. Winnie has already tried to recruit me. I love music but much the same way I love art. I can’t draw or paint but can still appreciate beautiful art without actually creating it.”
“What about skiing, cross-country or otherwise?” Winnie asked.
The very idea terrified her. She really needed to get over her fear of heights.
“I’m afraid not. I’ve spent my entire life in warmer climates where snow is rare. It makes it a little tough to become an expert at winter sports.”
“Well, that’s not an issue here. We have plenty of