other. And Iâm done with the diaper. Weâre both perfectly decent, I promise you.â
Mr. Barlow slowly raised his head to peek at us.
âPlease donât go,â I said. I returned Bess to her carry cot and tucked a blanket around her to ward off lurking drafts. âIf you can spare a minute, Iâd like to have a word with you.â
Mr. Barlow leaned the ladder against the wall, placed the toolbox on the floor, and crossed to sit in the pew in front of ours, half-turned, with his arm draped over the back. He looked down at Bess and chuckled ruefully.
âYou must think Iâm as old-fashioned as a butter churn,â he said.
âSo what if you are?â I retorted. âIâd rather you were old-fashioned and polite than modern and rude.â
âHowâs the little one coming along?â he asked. âI didnât have a chance to look in on her after church, what with the ladies crowding round you like a flock of old biddies.â
âBess is healthy, happy, and as sweet as honey,â I replied. âIâm a lucky mum.â
âThat you are,â he said, gazing tenderly at Bess.
âWould you like to hold her?â I asked.
âNo, thanks,â he said, recoiling in alarm. âIâm better with shovels than babies, Lori. Iâd only make Bess cry. Or drop her. Or worse.â
âYou wouldnât do anything of the sort,â I said. âIf you can mend a light fixture, you can hold a baby.â
âThatâs as may be,â said Mr. Barlow. âBut Iâd rather not risk it.â He cleared his throat and got down to business. âWhat can I do for you, Lori? Will and Rob break another window?â
âNot yet,â I said with a wry smile, âbut itâs only a matter of time. No, Mr. Barlow, thereâs nothing wrong with
my
cottage. I want to know if thereâs something wrong with Rose Cottage.â
âLike what?â he asked, frowning slightly.
I remembered the litany of ills Aunt Dimity had cited the previous evening and used it in my reply.
âA problem that isnât easy to see from the outside,â I explained, âlike a cracked foundation or rising damp or an infestation of deathwatch beetles.â
âRose Cottage is as sound as a bell,â Mr. Barlow stated firmly. âMr. and Mrs. Blanding took good care of it before they moved up north to be near their son. I had to replace a few slates on the roof, patch a flagstone in the hearth, and rehang a sash window in the back bedroom for them, but those are routine maintenance jobs, not major overhauls.â His eyes narrowed. âWhy? What have you heard? If Peggy Taxman has been spreading nasty rumors aboutââ
âShe hasnât,â I broke in. âNot within my hearing, anyway. Iâm simply trying to figure out why Rose Cottage and Ivy Cottage have been sitting around, unsold, for the past five months.â
âIt has nothing to do with their condition,â Mr. Barlow said stoutly. âJack MacBride spent a small fortune updating Ivy Cottage before he and Bree took off on their trip. He left the place in tip-top shape.â Mr. Barlow glanced at me. âHave you heard from them lately, Jack and Bree?â
âPostcard on Saturday,â I said. âTheyâre still in Australia and having a mostly wonderful time.â
âHope they come back,â Mr. Barlow said with a worried frown.
âIâm sure they will,â I said with more confidence than I felt. âBreeâs attached to her great-grandauntsâ house and Jackâs attached to Bree, so I canât imagine them living anywhere else after theyâre married.â
âAre they to be wed?â Mr. Barlow leaned toward me attentively, demonstrating that no one in Finch, not even our down-to-earth handyman, was immune to the gossip bug.
âThey havenât picked a date yet,â I told him,