Читать книгу Restoring Her Faith - Jennifer Slattery - Страница 16

Faith liked Drake’s mom. She had stories for everything, many of them hilarious, and about half were about her son and grandkids. It was clear she cherished her role as Meemaw, as she was called.

As the afternoon wore on, Drake’s boys started to bicker, his oldest teasing the little one by holding a Frisbee just out of reach. According to their father, the youngest was determined to be like his big brother, which often resulted in tears from the younger and taunting from the older. Little William ran after Trevor, then tripped on a branch and fell splat on his face. He remained there, crying and wailing.

“Oh!” Faith sprang to her feet, one hand on her mouth.

“Excuse me.” Drake set his Coke on the picnic table and ambled to his son’s side. Upon reaching him, Drake pulled him up, dropped to one knee and set the child on his other. “What’s broken?”

William sniffed, tears streaking his dirty face.

“Your arm?” He lifted the boy’s arm, wiggled it until he started to laugh. “Your leg?” He grabbed his son’s leg, nearly causing him to topple over, if not for Drake’s stabilizing arm on his back. “Oh, I know. Your ear.” He stuck a finger in William’s ear, causing him to squeal and squirm.

Faith laughed.

“Sure is good with those boys.”

She turned to find one of the women among numerous Elizabeth had introduced Faith to—she couldn’t remember her name—standing beside her, sucking on a chicken bone.

“Glad to see it.” The woman leaned closer, hand cupped around her mouth. “I was worried, with his dad’s accident and all. Thought Drake would go through another dark spell, like he did when his wife died. Didn’t know who’d step in to take care of things then.”

Drake was a widower? But he was so young, as were his kids. Faith felt her heart tug in his direction.

“Well.” Drake’s mom stood and began gathering used paper plates from the table. “I suppose it’s getting to be that time.”

His sister sprang to her feet. “Need help with Dad?”

“I...” She glanced at Drake.

As if sensing her attention, he tossed his son over his shoulder and hurried to them. “You and Dad ready to jet?” he asked his mother.

“I hate to put you out.”

“Stop.” His expression turned firm. He glanced about before catching Faith’s eye. “Give me a minute?”

“Sure. No problem.” The way Drake’s father was scowling, his mom was wringing her hands and his sister was picking at her pinkie nail, Faith felt she’d stumbled into a private family squabble.

She helped with cleanup, trying to answer the seemingly endless questions random strangers fired her way.

One of the older women gave her a knowing smile and asked what she thought of the rancher’s son.

As if she planned to stay for the duration.

She tossed her napkin into a nearby trash can. “I haven’t.” Regardless of how attractive she found Drake or how welcoming all these people were, she had no intention of living in a small town again.

* * *

Drake grabbed the handles of his dad’s wheelchair. The terrain in front of them—grass dotted with bare patches and numerous dips, ridges and rises—made pushing the thing a challenge. Elizabeth must have suffered quite a workout to get Dad from the truck to the picnic table. Not to mention getting him into the truck in the first place.

They needed to figure something out. Soon. Tomorrow Drake would check on costs of wheelchair lifts.

“Daddy, I help.” His youngest ran to Drake’s side.

Dad visibly tensed.

Because of William’s request? Made sense. Dad had never been one to ask for help, never one to admit he needed it. Now he needed help with everything. With one quick statement, his three-year-old-grandson had called attention to this fact.

The man’s entire life had shifted with one fall.

A fall that wouldn’t have happened had Drake stayed to help on the ranch that day.

“How about you help Meemaw clean up,” Drake said.

“But I strong.” His tiny fingers gripped the smooth metal bars.

“I know you are.” He gently pried the child’s hands free. “Which is why Meemaw needs you.” He glanced back to find Faith watching him, and a strange sensation heightened his senses.

Clearing his throat, he averted his gaze. Trevor, older by two and a half years, hung from a low-hanging branch about a hundred feet away. “Oh. Look what your brother’s doing.”

William’s haloed head jerked in that direction, and his face lit up. In a flash, he was off, his chubby little arms pumping.

Drake chuckled. That boy was about as distractible as a puppy chasing a pack of baby chicks.

He headed toward his mom’s SUV, offered one of the church members a passing nod and maneuvered his dad around a two-inch hole. “You get to talk to anyone?”

Dad hitched a shoulder up.

“I know Mom’s glad you came. You need to get out more.”

“Everyone knows what I need now?”

Ouch. “All’s I’m saying is folks are glad to see you.”

No response. These outings always put him in a mood. His doctor said to expect anger, and Drake got that. It had to smart something awful to lose the use of one’s legs. But Dad wasn’t the only one going through a major life change. He wasn’t the only one mourning.

Drake looked at his mom, glad to see her surrounded by a group of ladies. He’d connect with her tomorrow to check how she was faring and what appointments Dad had this week that she might need help with.

He stopped as two barefoot boys ran in front of them, one of them clutching a football to his chest. “I have a feeling some of the church ladies will be bringing goodies to the work site tomorrow. I’ll save you some.”

Dad gave a slight nod. Better than a grunt.

“I was thinking of taking the boys fishing this weekend. Want to come?”

No response. Lord, help me out here. How can I pull him out of this funk?

When they reached his mom’s SUV, one of Drake’s buddies hurried to meet them. He waited for Drake to move Dad’s footrests out of the way, then quietly stepped in. Mimicking Drake, he cupped a hand under Dad’s left thigh, and with his other, gripped his forearm without a word. Asking would’ve only wounded Dad’s pride.

Would it always be this way?

They lifted him in, then Drake secured his seat belt and shot him a smile. Receiving a frown in return, Drake closed the door with a suppressed sigh.

How did a person adapt to something like this? Especially a rancher who’d been handling bulls, mending fences and barns, and whatever else, for as long as Drake could remember? The man loved being outside. Loved doing.

Took pride in his role as protector and provider.

Drake rounded the vehicle to the driver’s side to get the air-conditioning going. “Want the radio on while you wait for Mom?” He fiddled with the dial.

“Don’t matter.”

“All right then.” He turned to Rural Radio so his dad could catch up on cattle prices—or would that stress him out? Remind him of the threat of losing the ranch? Drake flipped to the local country-and-western station and closed the door.

He released a heavy breath and scrubbed a hand over his face.

Bryce, one of his best friends since middle school, strolled over. “How’re you holding up?”

He didn’t answer right away. “We’ll be all right.”

“Christa is worried about your momma. Said she’s hardly left the ranch since the accident.”

“She’s got to watch Dad.” It was just like Bryce’s wife to feel concerned, and likely a strong pull to help. That woman was one of the most caring people Drake knew.

“Figured as much. But...” He popped a few of his knuckles. “Maybe some of the Bible study gals could help out some. Take turns sitting with him.”

Drake snorted. “That’ll go over real well.” He shot his dad a sideways glance.

“Yeah, well, it’s not just about him, is it?” Bryce’s gaze intensified.

Drake gave a quick nod and leaned back against the vehicle. “I’ll talk to Mom and Elizabeth.”

“Good enough. So...that girl, the one whose car you totaled—”

“I didn’t total it.”

“Pretty near. Not the smartest way to snag a woman, but I’m glad to know you’re not completely blind.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“I see the way you look at her.”

“I’m not interested in dating anyone, let alone a city girl. The boys have had enough to deal with.”

“It’s been three years. Your youngest doesn’t even remember Lydia.”

Drake winced and clenched his teeth to keep from snapping.

Bryce raised his hands, palms out. “Sorry. I didn’t mean... That was stupid.”

A tense silence stretched between them. “Regardless, she won’t be here for long. And as far as I’m concerned she’s not supposed to be here at all.” Drake relayed all he knew about her, which wasn’t much, and everything he remembered from the last church restoration planning meeting.

“I caught a look at the bids.” Drake shoved a hand in his pocket. “Before the crew made their decision. She’s an artist from some gallery. From what I could tell, she hasn’t done more than a handful of stained glass restorations, if that.”

“She can’t be too inept. She got the contract, didn’t she?”

“I’m not so sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“I asked Mayor Pearson about it. Both of us remember the restoration team choosing Leaded Pane. He’s going to go through all the bids tomorrow.”

“So you’re thinking that other outfit might show up in the morning, ready to get to work.” His friend shook his head. “That’ll be awkward.”

“Tell me about it.” As if Drake didn’t have enough drama to deal with. Then again, that was the best-case scenario. The worst would be her actually doing the job and proving incompetent. “The restoration team’ll handle it. Let her down gently and send her on her way.”

He glanced at his dad. He had to be getting cranky, sitting in the SUV like he was.

Drake turned to see what was keeping his mom, then froze.

Faith stood a few feet away, and based on her expression, had been there for some time. Long enough to hear most everything.

“Hello.” Her tone was clipped.

Bryce cleared his throat and took a half step back, as if distancing himself from the mess Drake had just created.

“Hey.” Drake swallowed.

While he fidgeted, trying to untangle his tongue, Bryce tipped his hat to Drake’s mom and sister as they approached. “Mrs. Owens. Elizabeth.”

“Such a lovely evening.” His mom smiled, completely oblivious to the tension filling the air. “Where’s that beautiful wife and son of yours? I wanted to say hi, but, well...”

She’d never left Dad’s side except to fill plates. Bryce was right. She needed a break. He and Elizabeth would have to figure out how to make that happen. Regularly.

“They’re probably still down by the lake trying to catch snakes,” Bryce said. “Or I should say, Elijah’s chasing snakes while his momma’s standing on the tallest rock, praying this phase of his passes quickly.”

“Good luck with that one.” His mom laughed. “Well, I suppose we should go. You ready, Elizabeth?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She flicked everyone a wave, then turned to Faith. “We’ll see you Friday?”

Drake raised his eyebrows. When had Faith and his sister gotten so chummy? And what did she mean by we? Not that it mattered. The woman would be heading back to Austin soon enough.

Except she was going nowhere right now. Her car was in the shop. Because of him.

* * *

Faith pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth to keep from saying something stupid, and accompanied Drake to the truck. So he didn’t want her here. Thought she couldn’t do the job. The cocky, small-minded... She’d just have to prove him—and everyone else in Sage Creek—wrong.

Like she’d been trying to do with her dad for the past decade, ever since she dropped out of college to pursue a career in art. That had gone over real well; the professor’s daughter hadn’t made it through her junior year.

And if Drake was right, if somehow she was here by mistake? She’d be out a good deal of money. And who knew how long it would take the town mechanic to fix her vehicle?

Which Mr. Cowboy had totaled. She should make him pay for her hotel. If the restoration team gave her the boot, that’s exactly what she’d do. She had no choice. She didn’t have the money for a random, unexpected “vacation.”

How was she supposed to get to the church and back to her hotel each day?

Eyeing Drake, she frowned. She had no intention of becoming dependent on some macho cowboy.

No matter how handsome.

Grabbing on to the handle above the door, she hoisted herself into the sauna-like truck, her long skirt twisting around her legs. With a grimace, she fought to free herself from the fabric as gracefully as possible.

He engaged the engine, and hot air pelted Faith’s face. “Whew.” He angled the vents away from both of them, then shifted into Reverse. “Far’s I can tell, Mr. Johnson left an hour or so ago. He should be back at the hotel now.”

Rocks clanged against the truck’s undercarriage as he turned onto the dirt road leading back to town. “I’ll give him a call to make sure.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket, put it on speaker, then set it on the dash. “I lost my Bluetooth.”

It rang four times before anyone answered. “Hey-lo. Cedar View Inn. Where the coffee’s hot, the cable’s connected and the view’s pristine.”

“Hey, Mr. Johnson. It’s me, Drake.”

“Figured as much. You calling about that gal friend of yours?”

“Yes, sir. We’re heading your way, if that’s all right.”

“Course it is. I’ll go turn the air on in her room now.”

“She’d be mighty obliged, I’m sure.” Call over, he set his phone in his cup holder and turned onto the paved street. “What’d you think of the picnic?”

“It was nice. The food was good.”

He nodded and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “You and my sister seemed to hit it off.”

She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “She and your mom want to learn how to paint.” She gave a soft laugh. “They said they’d trade me a home-cooked meal for lessons.” It felt awkward saying that. It would probably feel awkward going, but...those dinners could save her a chunk of change. Money she’d desperately need, especially if she found herself stuck here, unemployed, with hotel fees to pay.

This would be a first, to get fired before even getting started.

And if Mr. Cowboy’s insurance didn’t come through and he decided not to honor his word, she’d be in the red.

Her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and exhaled. It was R & T Glass Supply. “Hello?”

“Faith. Sorry I missed your call.”

“No problem. Listen, I’m sort of in a bind here.” She explained her predicament and pulled a pocket notebook from her purse. On it, she’d written all the details needed to make her order. “You wouldn’t happen to have any more cobalt-blue and jade-green sheets on hand, would you?” She read the item number for each.

“Nope. But I can get some in.”

She rubbed her temple, pushing back an emerging headache. “You want to check? I’ll hold.”

“Don’t need to. I remember your order. Didn’t see the need to buy any extra.”

Great. It could take weeks to get those sheets in, time she didn’t have. “Any chance you can rush order some?”

“Sure, but it’ll be expensive.”

“How much are we talking?”

“You’d need to pay the freight fee. Five hundred bucks.”

She winced and shot Drake a glance, to find him watching her. Probably waiting to calculate how big of a check he’d need to write, considering this was all his fault. What kind of man drove sixty miles per hour on a wobbly tire?

“How soon could you get them in?”

“Don’t know. Forty-eight hours. Maybe sooner.”

“Great. Let’s do it.” She shifted the phone from her mouth. “I sure hope your insurance comes through on this.”

Drake pulled into the hotel between her trailer and a beat-up, pale blue pickup. “If they don’t, I’ll reimburse you personally.”

She studied him. Yet another promise from a man she knew nothing about. Except that he was an irresponsible driver who liked to take risks on the open highway. Only this time, she didn’t have any witnesses to hold him accountable.

“You’ll sign on it?”

He frowned, but then his expression softened and one side of his mouth quirked up. “Sure. No problem.”

She wrote out a simple agreement, then handed over the paper and her pen.

He signed, then returned it.

“Thanks.” She grabbed her purse, ready to bolt.

“I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow morning.”

To take her to a job he felt certain she couldn’t do.

She had every intention of proving him wrong.