Shadows on a Maine Christmas (Antique Print Mystery Series Book 7) by Lea Wait

be dissuaded by his aunt’s logic.
    Nettie settled on the living room couch with the remote control in her hand and a cup of coffee and a plate of Christmas cookies on the table in front of her. (Maggie was beginning to think she’d have to bake more if they were going to have any left on the actual holiday.)
    Will handed Maggie her coat and headed her toward the door.
    The snow wasn’t drifting down gently, as it had most days. This morning the sky was low and gray and a curtain of snow shielded most of the river from view. Today’s snow was going to accumulate more than just a cover for yesterday’s two inches.
    Will brushed the new snow from the car as Maggie hugged herself, wondering if the inside of the car would warm up before they got to see Will’s dream house. It wasn’t far. On a summer’s day it might be a comfortable half hour’s walk. But in this weather? No, thank you.
    This time she paid closer attention to the neighborhood the house was in. The only Victorian in a block of sea captains’ colonials, it was certainly visible. But it was two blocks off Route 1, and parking was limited to the street and the wide driveway, now covered with several feet of snow, leading to the barn. A local artist had an in-barn studio and gallery down the street, but other than that it was a residential block. Maggie noted a SCHOOL BUS STOP sign two houses away. It would be a nice place to raise a family. She wasn’t as sure about its future as an antiques mall. It had failed once. Could Will afford to put most of his savings into a business with a questionable future?
    It was Will’s decision, she reminded herself. Not hers.
    They’d talked about money before, but always in terms of her business and his business. Buying this house was the riskiest decision she’d ever seen him consider.
    Will pulled up in back of a red Subaru wagon. “That’s Jo’s car. Let’s go.”
    Jo Heartwood looked almost as young as one of Maggie’s students. Blond, and very earnest, her smile for Will was sparkling. “I’m so glad you decided to take one more look.” She turned to Maggie. “And you must be his friend from New Jersey! Merry Christmas, and welcome to Maine. I’m Jo.”
    Maggie accepted her outstretched mittened hand. She’d imagined a real estate agent as someone in their forties. Or fifties. Someone with experience and know-how. How could this girl know anything about Victorian houses? And how many times had Will looked at this house before?
    “Let’s take a look, shall we? I’m afraid it’s snowing hard enough that they may declare an early closing at school and I’ll get a call to pick up my kids. I want you two to have as much time as possible inside.”
    “You have children?” Maggie blurted as she and Will followed Jo up onto the wide porch that circled two-thirds of the house. Jo looked about twenty-two. At most.
    “Three, actually,” said Jo. “Christa’s ten, Joey’s eight, and Sophie’s five. Full house.”
    “Sounds like it,” Maggie agreed, taking another look at Jo.
    “Jo’s husband was in the Army Reserves,” said Will quietly. “He was deployed to the Middle East. Didn’t make it back.”
    Maggie’s guilt went into high gear. How could she suspect anything of an armed forces widow with three children? “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know.”
    “No way you would,” said Jo, glancing at Will. “You’re here to see the house. Will shouldn’t have bothered you with my problems.” She punched the code in the lockbox and took out a key. The two front doors were paneled with beautiful nineteenth-century stained glass. “Will’s been real nice to me the past couple of months, when I’ve had rough days. He’s a good listener.” She pulled the door open and led them inside.
    “I’m glad to hear he’s been helpful,” said Maggie, wondering just how helpful Will had been. “I imagine with three children you have your hands full.” He didn’t want to be a father,