The Christmas Stranger. Beth Cornelison

light, and Holly focused on the bright spots instead of the darkness. She paused at the first door on the left. The room where Ryan’s body had been found.

      Standing in the doorway, Holly gazed into the empty room. Paint peeled from the molding. A gaping hole, where a window had once resided, marred the outside wall. That window, a round piece of stained glass, rested on the floor, propped in a corner.

      The room was so still, so quiet—except for her own labored breathing, the pounding pulse in her ears and the occasional coo of a mourning dove from the evergreen tree outside. As a cloud moved away from the afternoon sun, a golden beam poured in through the open hole in the wall and spilled across the floor. The sun lit the stained glass, bringing life to the arrangement of colors.

      In the center of the window, a white dove took flight, while all around the bird a dazzling jumble of colors created a brilliant backdrop.

      “Wow,” she murmured, stunned by the gorgeous find in the otherwise lonely and dreary old church. Holly stepped farther into the room and squatted in front of the stained glass for a better look. Upon closer examination she discovered the glass piece, unlike the many other windows in the church, was intact. The small window was in almost perfect condition. A bit of cleaning and a new setting would salvage it, and a tiny piece of history would survive.

      Holly’s pulse picked up as she formed her plan. If she could somehow get the stained glass to her truck, she could incorporate the window in the ongoing renovations at the farmhouse.

      She tried to lift the glass. Her muscles strained, and she got it off the floor…but getting the heavy, fragile window down the steps and to her truck would be a challenge. Especially since she still wore her wedding travel suit. She casually put it back.

      If she didn’t save the window, it would be destroyed in the morning when the wrecking crew arrived. She stood and chewed her lip, considering her options.

      She paced toward the door, out to the hall, glancing about for something she could put the glass on to slide it across the floor. Or use as leverage. Or…

      As she mulled her options, her thoughts darted in a different direction.

       Ryan.

      He’d have loved this stained glass. What if—

      “Is this what you were doing here, Ry—?” Something brushed against Holly’s leg, and she froze.

      A dark streak moved in the edge of her vision. Her breath hung in her lungs. She turned slowly, her gaze searching the dim room.

      And spotted a scruffy, thin cat staring back at her uneasily. With a low warning meow, the cat scampered from the shadows into the next room. Holly followed the cat, which made its way to a pile of rags heaped in the corner. The cat’s arrival started a chorus of high, thin mewls.

      Holly released a sigh, while the stray mother cat tended her kittens. Pulling her lips in a half smile, she edged closer. “Hey, little mama, I won’t hurt you or your babies.”

      The cat protested with an unhappy meow and crouched low beside her nest of five kittens. The babies were tiny, their eyes barely open.

      Holly’s heart fisted. They’d be killed when the wrecking ball came to raze the old church tomorrow. She had to do something, but the mother cat looked none too pleased to have someone poking around near her brood.

      “Easy there, mama. I won’t hurt—”

      The scuff of feet cut Holly off.

      A long, wide shadow fell over her, and a chill settled in her bones. Gasping, she whirled around.

      A tall man with shoulders that filled the doorway blocked her only exit. His face was hidden in shadow. When he spoke, his voice was deep and dark. “What are you doing?”

      Staring at the disheveled man who had her cornered in the dark room, Holly immediately conjured Robert’s theory.

       Ryan’s killer was most likely a vagrant.

       Chapter Two

      Holly shoved to her feet, tried to answer.

      Her voice stuck in her throat.

      “Didn’t you see the sign? This place has been condemned. It’s dangerous.” The man stepped farther into the room, moving out of the shadow that had obscured his face.

      Holly recognized the dark-haired man with piercing blue eyes who’d saved Tommy’s life, then disappeared from the Halloween party without a word.

      Her scampering pulse calmed a bit, but she kept a wary distance. As he moved closer, she edged away. “I…just wanted…to have a last look. This church is important to me, and…I wanted…needed…”

      She huffed a sigh. How did she explain about Ryan’s murder, the questions that needed answers, the closeness she felt to Ryan here? Why should she explain?

      She straightened her spine and leveled her shoulders. “Never mind my reasons. I knew the risks and weighed them.”

      He gave a negligent shrug. “All right.”

      His gaze shifted to the pile of rags where the kittens squeaked and fussed.

      Holly cleared her throat. “Why are you here?”

      His cool, clear eyes found hers again. “I saw you go in and followed you.”

      A prickle of apprehension crawled through her. “Why?”

      “Like I said, the place is condemned. It could be dangerous. I didn’t want you breaking a leg and being stuck in here alone.”

      She blinked at him, stunned. “Really?”

      He angled his head and tugged up a corner of his mouth. “Really.”

      Holly’s gaze lingered on his lips, visible despite the growth of several days’ beard. His lips were full, soft-looking…sexy. She shifted her feet, uncomfortable with the track of her thoughts. This man was a vagrant. Rumpled, unshaven, dirty. How could she find anything about him appealing?

      Yet she remembered how, back at the community center, his blue eyes and calming touch had stirred a warmth in her belly. She sensed something different about him and puzzled over the source of that intuition.

      He nodded to the nest of kittens. “Is this why you came in here? Did you know they were here?”

      Holly wiped sweaty palms on her dress, then grimaced. She’d left dirty smears on the skirt. “No. But now that I’ve found them, I can’t leave them to die in the demolition tomorrow.”

      “No. I reckon we can’t.”

      She raised her chin. “We?”

      “I’m at your disposal if you want my help.” When she hesitated, he stuck his hand out. “We met earlier but didn’t introduce ourselves. I’m Matt.”

      She took his hand, trembling when his long fingers closed warmly around hers. “Holly.” She thought of the stained glass in the next room and held her breath. “If you’re serious about helping, there is something…”

      He tipped his head. “Yeah?”

      When she didn’t answer for a few seconds, he crouched by the kittens. The mother cat hissed and ran.

      “Mom’s gonna be hard to catch. Harder to transport.” He picked up a kitten and stroked it with a finger. “They look pretty healthy. Too young to be without mom though. We’ll have to wrangle her to go with the babies, somehow.”

      Holly appraised Matt more closely. Could she trust him?

      His clothes, though well-worn, somewhat dirty and wrinkled, had been high quality when new. She recognized the name brand logo on his shirt pocket and designer cut of his slacks. Turning this incongruity over in her mind, she wondered