“But a sofa would be kinda nice, right?” Phoebe joked.
“Exactly. I’m now deeply regretting my spur-of-the-moment decision to get rid of the Roses’ old stuff,” Ivy admitted. “It was pretty snobby of me. The woman from the moving company did say a claims adjuster will be in touch, but in the meantime, I hadn’t budgeted buying this house and buying all new furniture. So I guess I’ll have to wait for the insurance company to cut me a check.”
“Hey,” Phoebe said. “I still haven’t met the girls.”
“That’s right. I moved their box into the kitchen. Right now it’s the warmest room in the house.”
Peep. Peep. Peepppeeeppppeeeep. The cardboard box jiggled slightly as the two women approached it. Ivy lifted the lid and pointed at the chickens, who were pecking at the feed in their dish. “That’s Shirley, and that’s Laverne. They’re Buff Orpingtons. Those two in the corner, that’s Thelma and Louise, and they’re Araucanas. They’re supposed to lay eggs that are blue-green.”
“So cute,” Phoebe said. “But you’re right. They’ve totally outgrown this crate. I think we’d better go take a look at their new house.”
* * *
Ivy gazed up at Phoebe, who was perched on a ladder beside the chicken coop. “What do you think?”
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” her friend reported. “There are some rotted support beams up here, but I can replace those. The main thing is that doggone mimosa tree just pushed its way up through the tin roof and peeled it back like the lid on a sardine can. I think once I cut the tree down, we can probably repair the roof.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Ivy said, once her friend was back on the ground. “I was afraid I’d have to hire someone to build me a whole new coop.”
Phoebe patted the coop’s weathered siding. “Nah. These old farm buildings were made to last. We can fix this girl up good as new again.”
By noon, the mimosa tree had been sawed into neat logs and stacked at the edge of the farmhouse and Ivy had managed to conquer her fears of heights and power tools. Under Phoebe’s tutelage, she sawed and nailed and screwed until her gloved hands were dotted with blisters and her back ached from climbing up and down ladders.
The two women were sitting on the porch steps, enjoying a lunch break, when the black Jeep pulled up in the driveway. Phoebe nudged Ivy. “Looks like the House Hunk is making house calls again.”
As soon as Ezra Wheeler stepped out of his vehicle, Punkin bounded up to greet him, tail wagging, with a series of short, gleeful barks.
“Hey there!” Ezra called as he approached the porch. “Sounds like you’ve got a construction crew working. I could hear the chain saws from down at my place.”
The real estate agent was dressed in worn jeans, a quilted jacket, and work boots. His beard was scruffy and his butterscotch hair ruffled in the light breeze.
“Ooh. Loving the sexy lumberjack look,” Phoebe whispered.
“Stop!” Ivy said. She stood up, dusting off the seat of her own jeans.
“Hi, Ezra,” Ivy said. “Phoebe volunteered to help me rebuild the chicken coop.”
“I know you,” Ezra said, reaching out to shake Phoebe’s hand. “You work at the courthouse, right?”
“That’s right,” Phoebe said. “I see you whenever you come in to do a title search. I’m Phoebe Huddleston.”
“What can I help you with, Ezra?” Ivy asked.
“Not a thing. I’m just being a nosy neighbor. Like I said, I heard all the sawing and thought I’d check it out. I’m at loose ends today. You ladies need a hand?”
“Thanks, but—” Ivy started.
“Actually, you showed up in the nick of time,” Phoebe interrupted. “I was just sitting here worrying about how we’re going to raise that new ridgepole for the roof with just the two of us. We need two sets of hands to hold it in place, while the third person does the nailing.”
“But…” Ivy protested.
“I’m game if you’re game,” Ezra said.
Ivy had to admit the work went much faster with a third set of hands. Within an hour Phoebe and Ezra had the old roof repaired, and patched with spare sheets of tin Ivy discovered in the toolshed.
As the unskilled-labor portion of the work crew, Ivy spent the rest of the afternoon fetching tools and material, and pitching in where needed.
By four o’clock, the sun was rapidly gliding toward the western horizon as Ezra and Phoebe put the finishing touches on a new wire-enclosed run for the chickens and Ivy nailed up the old galvanized nesting boxes and spread clean straw around the floor of the coop.
“We did it,” Phoebe said, stepping back to admire the refurbished henhouse. “Not bad, huh?”
“You did it,” Ivy corrected her. She glanced over at Ezra. “The two of you, that is. I was the weak link in this outfit. I don’t know how I can ever repay you. Either of you.”
Ezra laughed and looked over at Phoebe. “Most of the credit goes to your job foreman. I just did what I was told.”
“Teamwork makes the dream work,” Phoebe said modestly. “But I wouldn’t say no to something to drink.”
“Oh Lord!” Ivy exclaimed. “I’m a terrible hostess. Come on inside. I’ve got hot cocoa, wine, and a bottle of good bourbon. I’ve even got a quart of eggnog in the fridge. And popcorn!”
“I should probably be going,” Ezra said, but his expression said otherwise.
Phoebe gave Ivy a not-so-subtle head shake.
“Please stay,” Ivy said. “Really.”
“I’m just gonna put my tools back in the truck, and then I’ll meet you two inside,” Phoebe said, turning back to the construction site.
Chapter 11
“Want me to grab some firewood?” Ezra asked as they approached the front porch.
“Good idea,” Ivy said. “I had no idea old houses could be this cold. And drafty.”
She held the front door open as he entered with an armful of logs.
“My house is probably about the same age as this one, and I can tell you from experience, you probably don’t have much in the way of insulation here. Last year was my first winter living there, and I thought I’d freeze to death,” Ezra said. “The first thing I did with the commissions from my first few closings was invest in a heat pump and blown-in insulation.”
He pushed the fireplace screen aside and arranged the logs. “Got any kind of kindling?”
Ivy pointed to a worn basket she’d retrieved from the toolshed. It was full of twigs and pine cones she’d scavenged around the property. “Here you are. I’m just gonna go fix drinks. What would you like?”
“Did somebody mention bourbon? Rocks. No water, please.”
By the time she returned with his drink, Ezra had the fire blazing.
“Here you go. Sorry about the jelly jar. Good thing I didn’t get rid of all the Roses’ kitchen stuff.”
Ezra sipped his drink. “Good bourbon tastes great no matter how you serve it.” He smiled at her over the rim of his glass. “Especially with present company.”