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“No. He’s a soldier.” Bianca’s brow pulled in thought. “I hope Mrs. Bowen don’t see his uniform. Soldiers always make her cry.”

“Let us hold our breath and cross our fingers and pray a bit that Mrs. Bowen doesn’t peek outside.” Helene had been doing all three ever since opening the front door and finding a soldier standing there.

“I don’t want her to be sad,” Bianca said. “She is always so kind to me.”

Helene gave the girl a grateful smile, having learned early on that Bianca didn’t care to be hugged.

Liam came in the back door. “There’s a man pounding nails into the eaves,” he announced as he set a small basket of string beans on the counter near Helene.

“He’s Mr. Gregory,” Bianca said. “He’s been hired on to do chores around here.”

Liam turned accusatory eyes on Helene. “I’ve done the chores you asked me, and I can do more, too. You needn’t pay someone to do work; you’ve got me.”

“And I am infinitely grateful for both you and Bianca,” Helene assured him. “You are already working very hard and doing so very much. And I will need your help, along with his, in the fields as harvest grows nearer. Having a hired man is in no way a sign that I don’t think you capable, only that this farm is larger than you and I can work on our own.”

Liam’s pride still appeared to be a bit wounded. Helene didn’t know how to convince him that his tireless labor over the past six months was enough.

“I’ve not given any of your chores to Mr. Gregory,” Helene said, “as I know you’ll see to them. He’s taking on the odd handful of things neither you nor I are responsible for but that need doing.”

Liam nodded and looked at least somewhat appeased. “He’s a soldier, you know. Mrs. Bowen won’t like that.”

Helene stirred the simmering soup. “I’ll ask him to wear something other than his uniform tomorrow. With any luck, Mrs. Bowen won’t spot him today.”

Liam returned to his chores shortly after that. Bianca remained in the kitchen helping Helene with supper preparations. Bianca had been quiet and withdrawn when she’d first come to live with them, but she’d since grown more comfortable. She was a regular chatterbox now.

The remainder of the late afternoon passed against a backdrop of pounding nails. Helene looked out the windows now and then, and never once saw Gregory lazing about.

Not long before suppertime, Mother descended the stairs. “Liam has been nonstop at whatever he’s pounding on out there.” She rubbed at her temples as she spoke.

Helene regretted her mother’s headache but breathed a sigh of relief at the knowledge that she hadn’t peeked outside and seen the soldier working on the house.

“The work will be done in but a moment,” she promised her mother. “And most of it is being done at the back of the house. The front parlor will be relatively quiet.”

Mother nodded and moved in that direction.

“Go see if you can lift her spirits a bit,” Helene said to Bianca. “She looks a bit frayed.”

Bianca hopped off the stool in front of the sink and dried her hands on a rag. “And I won’t tell her the man’s a soldier,” she promised.

“Thank you, sweetie.”

Mother was exceptionally fond of Bianca, and the dear girl rather idolized Mother. Helene needn’t worry about either one when they were in each other’s company. She slipped out the back door to the porch, looking around for Gregory. He was not far off, standing atop the ladder, sweeping out a gutter.

“Mr. Gregory,” she called out.

He came down the rungs as she approached. “Just ‘Gregory’ will be fine, Miss Bowen,” he said.

She nodded her agreement. “Supper is ready. I’ll dish some out for you while you put the ladder and such away.”

He hesitated. “I haven’t finished all the work you gave me. Not for lack of trying, I promise you. There were a great many more loose eaves than you likely realized.”

She waved off his apologetic declaration. “I know you worked hard. You can pick up where you left off tomorrow.”

“Yes, miss.”

Somehow the humble tone of a servant didn’t at all fit him, but neither did it sound feigned. Had he once enjoyed greater status than he currently claimed? The war had been unkind to so very many.

She met his gaze and was struck by how very fine his eyes were. Beyond that, there was a sincerity in them that put her instantly at ease, something she was not at all accustomed to. Living alone, other than her mother, had taught her to treat strangers with wariness and to watch closely for any signs they weren’t trustworthy. But Gregory gave her no such worries.