Читать книгу Restoring Her Faith - Jennifer Slattery - Страница 18

The vulnerability in Faith’s eyes, almost like she was begging not to be rejected, tugged at Drake’s heart.

He felt bad for wanting her off the project.

But it wasn’t personal. This was a big restoration, in terms of money and sentimental value. To the folks of Sage Creek, Trinity Faith was much more than a church. It preserved memories going back since the town was first founded. Countless baptisms and weddings had been held here.

It was where Drake and his wife had fallen in love and, years later, where they’d said their vows. And where her funeral had been held, the whole town coming out to pay their respects. Though he’d worked through his grief, he still wanted to hold tight to his memory of that day.

Besides, he couldn’t let his mom down. She’d been crushed once she’d seen the destruction left by the fire. Then came Dad’s accident. Drake couldn’t do anything about the latter, but he could make sure the church got repaired, to as good or even better a condition than it had been in before. Even if that meant hurting Ms. City Girl’s feelings.

Faith took a visible breath. “Where’s the restroom?”

“Inside, all the way to the back, turn right.” Lucy pointed to the church, then faced Drake as Faith headed off. “What’s up? Everything okay with your daddy?”

“Far’s I know. He was sleeping when I dropped the kids off this morning.”

“And your mom? She’s holding up okay?”

“A mite tired, but yeah.”

The woman released a gust of air. “I’m glad. I worried you were going to tell me you can’t go through with this job. I know the timing stinks, with your dad’s accident and all. Everything’s good, then?”

“Not exactly.” He guided her toward an old picnic table near the back of the church.

“All right, then. What’s wrong?”

“Did Mayor Pearson talk with you? About Leaded Pane?” He’d thought about having this conversation with Lucy yesterday at the picnic, but she’d left before he’d had a chance. When he tried calling that evening, her phone hadn’t let him leave a message, saying her inbox was full.

“The bids.” Lucy smoothed her long skirt and sat. “He told you about that, then?”

“No. I saw them for myself, when y’all were making your decisions. So that I could plan out my end, remember?”

“Right.” She rubbed her forehead. “Everything’s gotten jumbled, I’ll give you that. But I don’t see what we can do at this point.”

“Tell Faith something must have been miscommunicated somewhere, that you’re sorry, but... What time did Leaded Pane say they’d show up?”

“They aren’t coming.”

“What do you mean? Why?”

“Because we never called them. We got the bids mixed up. For now, all’s I can tell you is Jenna Anne told Faith she got the job.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I’m saying is—”

“What she’s saying is you’re stuck with me.”

* * *

At least now she knew they weren’t going to give her the boot. Not unless Mr. Cowboy made a stink. Though he looked ready to crawl under that lopsided picnic table he was sitting at.

“Faith.” Lucy sprang to her feet. “I didn’t see you there.”

She leveled her gaze on Drake. “So I gathered.” Easy, girl. Don’t get yourself fired. She faced Lucy. “You wanted to speak with me?”

The woman stared at her. “I... Uh... I wanted to make sure you have everything you need to get started.”

“I do.”

“If you have any questions or run into any difficulties, you’ve got my number.”

“I do.”

Lucy gave a quick nod, looked from Faith to Drake then back to Faith, and then walked away.

Faith intended to do the same. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” She spun on her heel and marched, head held high, toward her trailer.

Drake jogged after her. He caught up and matched her step for step. “Need help unloading?”

She stopped and glared at him. “Contrary to what you might think, Mr.—”

“Call me Drake.”

Oh, she could think of half a dozen other things she’d like to call him. “—I’m not completely inept, Drake.” Reaching her trailer out of breath, she dug through her pocket for the key to the dead-bolted doors. She suppressed a moan. Of course it was in her purse, which, in her nervousness, she’d left in Drake’s truck.

He stepped into her peripheral vision. “Everything all right?”

“Absolutely. Is your truck locked?”

“Nope. Why? You need something?”

“I do.” She strode toward his vehicle, still attached to her trailer, with as much self-respect as she could muster. She knew better than to let someone like Drake get to her. Every town had men like him, cowboys who sweet-talked naive and gullible women, swept them off their feet, then left them heartbroken.

Like Josh had done to her.

Those type of men weren’t worth a second thought, except she did have to work with Drake. Joy. She yanked open his passenger side door and grabbed her purse.

A moment later, she returned to find him standing in the same place, watching her.

Ignoring his steady gaze, she fumbled with her lock. Then, hands slick from the mounting Texas humidity, she strained to unload sheets of glass from her trailer.

“I cleared out the back shed for you—so you could have uninterrupted workspace.” He motioned toward a small, dilapidated building past the far corner of the church. Thick, overgrown trees and bushes pressed up against it on either side. In front of it sat what appeared to be numerous metal tubs.

“Does the shed have electricity?”

“Yep. The sanctuary’s going to be a mess, with us tearing up the carpet and all.” He eyed the various colored sheets spread out beside her. “Hold on. I’ll drive your trailer closer to your work area. So we don’t need to carry everything so far.”

“Fine.” She stepped back to give him room to maneuver his rig then followed him on foot to the shed.

He parked and stepped out. “I’ll unload those sheets for you.”

“No.” Her tone came out clipped. She took a deep breath. “I appreciate your help, but these are expensive and very fragile.”

“It’s not like I’m going to juggle the things.”

Ignoring him, she climbed inside the trailer to get to her glass cutting tools. He offered to help a couple more times, and she declined, rather firmly and probably with much less professionalism than appropriate.

She nearly ate her words when she got to her portable grinder. The cord had gotten stuck beneath the box of lead came used to join cut glass pieces together.

So she’d take that out, too.

Ten minutes later, sweat trickling down her temples and static electricity frizzing her hair, she stood surrounded by nearly all her supplies.

Drake eyed the items. “You always make things so hard on yourself?”

“Excuse me?”

“You make a habit of digging your heels in like this?”

She fisted her hands and scowled. The nerve of that man!

He leaned over to pick up a blue sheet of glass.

She nearly lurched at him. “What’re you doing?”

“Carrying this into the shed, because even though I’m tempted to let you keep on fighting with all this on your own, we’ve got a project to complete. And at the rate you’re going, the church windows won’t be finished before Christmas.”

She stared after him, mouth agape, as he marched across the patchy lawn, nodding to folks as he went.

Fine. If he wanted to do the heavy lifting, so be it. “Be careful with those. Make sure to place them in a safe spot.”

Shaking his head, he disappeared inside the heavily shadowed shed.

With a huff, she followed, hefting her box of window-cleaning supplies. She stood in the doorway, watching as he carefully set her glass against a plywood wall. An old, deformed rake, a metal gas can and other tools lined the opposite wall, and light emanated from a single bulb centered in the ceiling.

Ugh. So she’d cut her pieces outside.

“I had my ranching buddies bring these.” He motioned toward the rusted metal tubs, which she now recognized as feeding troughs. “Will this be enough, you think?”

“For...?”

“To soak your glass in, get all the dust and grime and whatnot off them. Isn’t that how you do it?”

Duh. She knew she’d forget something, as if she hadn’t looked unprofessional before. But feeding troughs? “I hadn’t thought to use farm equipment.”

He gave a slight shrug. “When Leaded Pane came out a few years ago, they brought a tub, but that was when only one window needed cleaning. I figured there might be more to tackle.”

She nodded. For uniformity, she’d need to wash them all. “I appreciate the forethought.”

“No problem. Need anything else?”

“I’m good.”

“Hey, boss?” She saw a potbellied man in coveralls waving Drake over.

“Excuse me.” He tipped his hat to her, then sauntered off.

She gazed up at the side windows of the church, each at a height that made her stomach knot.

Lucy had assured her, when Faith made her bid, that she could use the scaffolding they already had on hand, but that probably belonged to Drake and his crew. The thought of asking to borrow it, even though technically it was considered on-site equipment, made her jaw clench.

The man obviously didn’t like outsiders and clearly thought she was the worst person for this job, probably because she was a woman.

She’d just have to show him and his committee friends how wrong they were.

Half an hour later, with notes, measurements and photographs in hand, she circled the property. When she reached the other side of the church, she practically cheered. There, two older men stood a few feet from the back of a dented white van, assembling scaffolding.

“Howdy.” The taller of the two touched the brim of a sweat-stained ball cap.

“Hi.” Hopefully these guys held women in higher esteem than Drake did. She approached with an extended hand and introduced herself. “I’m here to work on the windows.”

Both men faced her with feet shoulder width apart.

The one on the right mopped his brow with a gray rag. “So I heard.”

What did that mean? Drake had probably been flapping his mouth to everyone out here. She resisted the urge to ask, and maintained a forced smile. “If it’s not too much of a bother, when you’re done assembling this—” she indicated the rolling aluminum tower they’d been building “—would you mind if I borrowed it? Briefly.”

They exchanged glances, and the shorter of the two tugged on the skin beneath his chin. “Mind if I ask what for?”

Drake joined them. “Everything okay here?”

“Perfectly.” She faced him and repeated her request.

He studied her a moment, his deep gaze latching on to hers, then he pivoted to look at the windows on this side of the building. “You need us to get the broken panes down for you?”

“It’d be best if I did that.”

“Woman, if you think I’m going to let you—”

“Let me?” What century had this man stepped out of? “Why, sir—” She donned a demure voice, placed a hand under her chin and batted her eyes. “—we women can do all sorts of difficult things. We can write our numbers, read books, and not just the ones with pretty pictures.”

The gentleman in the ball cap snickered, then covered with a cough.

Drake’s mouth flattened. “Fellas, can you give us a minute?”

“No problem.”

His friends sauntered off, and Drake faced her. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot here. But if we’re going to be working together, we need to find a way to get along.”

She released a breath, her tense shoulders going slack. She hated to admit it, but he was right. And she was better than this. So the man was infuriating and chauvinistic.

And handsome enough to land on the cover of an outdoorsman magazine.

“I agree.” She readjusted her ponytail. “But I can’t allow you or anyone else to remove those windows. The glass is much too fragile.”

“I see.” He scratched his jaw. “How about we work together, and you show me how?”

She wanted to protest, but at that height, and with the weight of those leaded panes, she’d need extra hands.

“Fine. But it’s imperative you follow my directions precisely.” Before he could respond, she spun around and marched back to her trailer for duct tape.

She returned to find him right where she’d left him—awaiting further instruction. A slight smile tugged her mouth. “Did you want to help me wheel the scaffolding against the siding?”

His gaze bounced from her to the unbroken window. “I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job or nothing, but that window looks just fine to me.”

“That’s why they hired me to restore the stained glass and you to remove bat guano.” According to Lucy, the summer before, they’d discovered the church had a bad infestation in the attic. Apparently they’d managed to get all the critters out a while ago, and prevent them from entering. But they hadn’t, as of yet, cleaned up the mess.

Though Drake probably had his crew taking care of that, while he did more important things.

Red blotches climbed up his neck. But, mouth set in a firm line, he complied.

Faith wasn’t exactly making friends. She needed to start playing nice, before she dug herself into a mess that not only cost her this job, but tarnished her professional reputation, as well.