Restoring His Heart

by Lorraine Beatty

  “How are you and my daughter getting along?”

  “You want the honest truth?”

  Angie laughed. “Please. I’m her mother. I’m well aware of all her flaws.”

  “Things are better between us now. I had my doubts in the beginning. She was pretty irritated with me.”

  “Furious might be more accurate.”

  “Has she always wanted to be a carpenter? I know it’s not all that unusual these days, but she seems too—”

  “Feminine? I know. She wanted to be a ballerina when she was little. But she also followed her daddy around from the time she could walk. She wanted to dress like him, talk like him. She mimicked everything he did.”

  He remembered the look of adoration he’d seen on her face when she looked at her father. “He’s a shining knight in her eyes. I feel sorry for any man who tries to take his place.”

  “I worry about that myself. But I think when she finds the right one, she’ll have a new knight to love.”

  Adam stared into his glass. “I can’t quite figure her out. She’s a contradiction. One minute she’s this tough, determined builder, wrangling the burly men of her crew, the next she’s pouring out love and kindness to an elderly stranger.”

  “My Laura has a heart for others. She wants to take care of them, fix things for them. When she gives her love to someone, she gives it completely. And when her heart is broken, it takes a long time for it to heal.”

  Adam looked at Angie. Was she warning him to stay away from her daughter?

  “Did she tell you she’d been married?”

  He nodded. “She mentioned that it didn’t work out well.”

  “It shook her self-confidence, damaged her image of herself. Starting her business did wonders, but I worry that she uses her business to keep from finding love again. She needs someone to remind her how beautiful and special she is.”

  Was she suggesting he should be the one or warning him to steer clear for someone else? Like Greg or the foreman?

  “Well, I’m going to pull my husband out of his office and force him to watch a DVD with me tonight.” She stood and placed a hand on his shoulder as she passed. “Good night, Adam.”

  The conversation with Angie Durrant replayed in his mind as he tried to sleep. She’d said Laura loved completely. He didn’t doubt that. He’d seen her with dozens of people over the past few days—she loved everyone and everyone was drawn to her. The only people drawn to him were those who wanted something—to bask in his fame or siphon off his money. They hung around as long the fun lasted then went off in search of more stimulating companions. And he hadn’t cared.

  Until now. He was drawn to Laura Durrant, but at the same time she intimidated him. He didn’t understand his conflicting emotions. She wasn’t his type on so many levels. But something about Laura made him want to be a better person. She made him believe he could be different, that he could change.

  But people didn’t change like that. Did they?

  *

  Adam secured the last plank on the scaffold, then leaned his arms on the metal railing and looked down at Laura, who was assembling the smaller scaffold inside the gazebo. Time was moving quickly. He was well into his sentence now. And while he still went to bed each night physically tired, his muscles no longer protested. In fact, he felt more fit than he had in years.

  From his vantage point near the top of the gazebo, he had a new perspective on the town of Dover. His gaze drifted to the name carved in stone above the door of the bank. He’d have to ask Laura about that name sometime. Everyone pronounced it Dover, as in the White Cliffs of. But the name over the bank read Do Over.

  He scanned the area, taking in the now-familiar quaint brick buildings that encircled the town square. His gaze fell on the Keller building. He’d heard Laura on the phone today discussing it with someone. From her expression it hadn’t been good news. He didn’t understand why she wanted it, but it was important to her, so that was all that mattered. He could understand why she liked it here. There were more than enough old buildings and houses to keep her happy. But was that all she wanted? To save the next run-down store or abandoned church? She was meant to have a family, yet he’d never heard her speak of that kind of future.

  “Adam? Would you run over to Dad’s store and get a package of blades for the saw?”

  He climbed down from the scaffold and joined her at the workbench. “Alone?”

  She turned and nodded. “It’ll be fine.”

  “If you say so.” He’d come to accept that things were done differently here in Dover. “What kind of blades? Is there a particular one?”

  Laura removed the broken blade from the reciprocating saw and handed it to him. “Show him this. He’ll know what I need.”

  Adam shrugged and started across the park toward Durrant’s Hardware on the far corner. He knew finding the right materials for the restoration wasn’t going as well as expected. He’d seen a deep sadness in her violet eyes today that had touched off that unfamiliar surge of protectiveness in him. She loved the old gazebo and took a deep pride in repairing it. If it wasn’t completed in time for the big town party, she’d take it personally. That knowledge made him want to work harder to ensure her success.

  At the corner, Adam waited for the light to change, suddenly overcome with an almost-intoxicating sense of freedom. If it weren’t for the weight of the ankle monitor, he could almost forget he was on a legal leash. He had to admit, though, he was starting to get the hang of this carpentry thing. He’d never tell Laura, but he was looking forward to seeing the little gazebo completed.

  He stepped into the entrance of the hardware store, glancing down at the tiny black-and-while mosaic tile on the ground. Pushing open the door, he stepped back in time. Durrant’s Hardware was a museum.

  Wooden floors, warped and creaking, moved gently under his feet. Bins with glass tops lined the center aisle. To one side were long counters in front of wall shelves filled with boxes. On the other a wide staircase with a giant arrow on the wall directed customers looking for paint and tile to go to the second floor. He continued on toward the back where a more modern sign announced the checkout counter. Laura had told him her father would either be there or in his office at the very back of the building.

  As he strolled through the antique surroundings he began to realize that the old stuff was merely window dressing. The merchandise itself was up-to-date. Tom Durrant had managed to keep the historic feel of the hardware store yet incorporate all the modern elements needed to run a successful business. He wondered if Laura had been responsible for the decor the way she had made the old gas station into a hamburger place.

  “Adam, what can I do for you?” Tom Durrant extended his hand across the counter. “Let me guess, Laura sent you for supplies.”

  Adam nodded, handing over the broken blade. “New blades for the reciprocating saw.”

  Tom strolled off a few feet to fill the order.

  “Nice place. I feel like I’m in a time capsule.”

  “Guess who we have to thank for that?” Tom smiled.

  Looking around, Adam asked, “So was this a family business, before you, I mean?”

  “My dad started the store after World War Two. He died when I graduated from college, so I took it over.”

  Adam thought back to Tom’s comments about fathers leaving their businesses to their children. “I guess your kids will take over after you retire?”

  “No, none of them want it. Matt’s pretty well set since he sold his business in Atlanta and started teaching. Laura is content with her career and my son Ty is a policeman to the core.”

  A heavy sadness settled on Adam’s shoulders. He hated to think of this unique place being sold away from the family.

  “There you go. Tell my daughter I put it on her tab and that it’s getting bigger by the day.”

  “I’ll do that.” He took the bag and decided to brave a question.

  “Are you disappointed that your kids don’t want yo
ur business?”

  Tom exhaled audibly. “Well, I’d be lying if I said no. I didn’t have any huge career aspirations when my dad died. I was content with running the store. I’d like to see one of the kids keep the store going, but as their father, I want them to do what they feel called to do. The Lord’s given them each a talent and they should use it. I don’t want to derail that out of petty pride.”

  Adam sorted through Tom’s comments as he started back to the job site. He’d mentioned petty pride. Was that at work in his father? Wounded pride and shattered expectations because his son hadn’t followed in his footsteps, or had there been something else in his mind? Had he merely been, like Tom Durrant, disappointed that his only child didn’t want the business his family had labored to build? Hadn’t he wanted what was best for his son?

  “Oh, good, you’re back. I need your help with the trim.”

  Adam handed her the bag, reaching for his tool belt. “So why don’t you want the store?”

  She turned and frowned. “What?”

  “I asked—”

  “I heard you. Why are you asking?”

  “Your dad and I were talking about it.”

  “I don’t want to be a merchant. I don’t want to own a store. I have my own business to run and I love what I do.”

  “What will happen to the store when he retires?”

  “I don’t know. He’ll sell it, I guess.” She glanced across the green. “I thought about it. But…” She turned back to the workbench. “He understands.”

  “Probably. But does he like it?”

  Adam reached for the right angle and a carpenter’s pencil. His conversation with Tom had given him a new viewpoint on things. Like God-given talents for one. What were his? Did he have any? It never occurred to him to look. Laura had hers. Her siblings had found theirs. What did he want more than anything? What did he want to do? He turned and looked at Tom Durrant’s store. Could he be happy here, owning a little store?

  It was nearly noon when Adam felt the scaffold shift. He’d been working on removing the damaged shingles. He looked over to see Laura climbing up, one hand holding a large paper bag. He recognized it as the lunch her mother had packed for them this morning.

  “Lunch break. Mom’s meatloaf.”

  He helped her get settled, dangling her feet over the edge of the scaffold, then joined her. “I figured out pretty quickly that if I compliment your mother’s cooking in the evening, then I get to have it again for lunch the next day. Not a bad deal.”

  “You found her weak spot.”

  “Can you tell me what that is about?” He pointed toward the east side of the square. “The Do Over on the bank?”

  “Oh, that’s the real name of our town. Its original name was Junction City. It was a crossroad between the railroad and the wagon trails to the river. It burned down and the residents decided that because they had a chance to do it over they’d make it worthwhile. So they named it Do Over. Over time the name was shortened to D’Over, then eventually just Dover. The bank’s the only building that still has the original name on it.”

  Adam took another bite of meatloaf. Do Over. He had a funny feeling that God was trying to steer his life, give him a do-over. But how could he be sure?

  *

  The foot traffic on Peace Street and the now familiar groaning school buses told Adam the day was winding down. He turned off the table saw and inspected the end of the board, smiling when he felt the smooth even cut. He was definitely getting the hang of this saw-boy thing. He started toward the gazebo to brag a little, but Laura’s shout sliced into him. He dropped the wood and hoisted himself up into the gazebo.

  Laura was staring at her hand. The sight of blood flowing down her fingers turned his stomach. “Laura, what happened?” He moved toward her, taking her wrist in his hand to assess the damage.

  “I went to pick up this piece of lumber and caught my arm on something.” She brushed tears from her cheek. “I can’t believe I was so careless.”

  He held her hand, inspecting the cut. “It doesn’t look too deep, but that’s going to hurt for a while. You have a first-aid kit in the truck?” She nodded and started to move. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her to one of the benches on the undamaged side of the gazebo. “Sit still. I’ll get it.” Quickly he ran to the truck and returned with the small medical kit.

  Adam sat beside her, taking her arm in his hands and carefully cleaning the wound. He applied a disinfecting ointment, then added a bandage to keep it clean. He looked at her, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Her violet eyes were bright with unshed tears, her mouth was in an adorable pout. He cleared his throat. “I think you’ll live.”

  She smiled at him, her voice husky. “Thanks.”

  Adam held her forearm, unwilling to let go. Her skin was warm and soft and he could feel her pulse under his fingertips. He’d worked side by side with her for over two weeks yet he’d never been this close to her—their faces only inches apart. She was smaller than he’d realized. “You might want to have that looked at.”

  She shook her head, her gaze locked with his. “I get cuts and scrapes all the time. Just part of the job. I should have paid better attention.”

  “Please be more careful. I don’t like seeing you hurt.” He couldn’t resist the impulse to touch her tear-streaked cheek. He saw her catch her breath as his fingertips met her skin. “Promise?”

  She nodded and pulled her arm from his grasp, quickly moving to the edge of the gazebo. She jumped down to the ground and picked up her tablet.

  He took a deep breath, attempting to slow his racing heart. She may be all right, but he wasn’t sure he’d be. Laura was getting under his skin.

  He found it hard to concentrate now and was eager for the day to end. Adam cut a section of trim and turned off the saw. He started toward the scaffold to hand the piece up to Laura.

  “Hey, up there.”

  Adam turned at the sound of a female voice and saw Shelby Russell and Kenny Durrant coming toward the gazebo. Laura leaned over the top of the scaffold and shouted back. “Hi. I’ll be right down.”

  Shelby stopped at the orange fencing. Kenny waved, bouncing up and down on his feet in excitement. “Hi, Mr. Adam.”

  “Hey, Kenny.” He joined the visitors at the safety fence, keeping one eye on Laura as she climbed down the scaffold.

  Shelby waved up at him. “Hello, Adam. How’s it going?”

  “Slow. I’ve got a lot to learn.”

  “Lucky for me he’s a fast learner.” Laura leaned over the fencing and gave Kenny a hug.

  “Can I help do something, Aunt Laura? I learn fast, too.”

  “I know you do, but there are a lot dangerous things around here, and I don’t want you to get hurt. That’s why we have the fence up, so people won’t get hurt.”

  Kenny pouted, looking longingly toward the tools and materials just outside his reach. Adam inclined his head toward the truck. “Didn’t you say you needed a small door for the crawl space under the foundation? I could use some help picking out the best pieces.” Laura looked at him with a puzzled frown before she caught on.

  “Oh. Right. There are some scraps in the truck. Maybe you can piece it together from those. Kenny, why don’t you help him?”

  “Cool.”

  Adam motioned the boy to join him at the makeshift gate on the other side. He heard Laura mention something to Shelby about invitations as he walked away. Kenny skipped happily along beside him as they went to the truck.

  “Can I use the ’ciprocating saw?”

  Adam stopped in his tracks. “How do you know about those?”

  Kenny shrugged. “My grandpa sells them at the store.”

  “Right, I forgot. No, we won’t be using any tools right now. But I will need some strong muscles to help me carry this wood.”

  “I got muscles. See?” He held up his arms to show off his six-year-old biceps.

  “Impressive.” Kenny kept up a steady chatter as Adam selecte
d the pieces of wood. He’d hand them to the boy, who would run them over to the fence and pile them up one by one. Adam had more than enough to build the small door, but he was getting a kick out of watching the boy have so much fun. “I think we have all we need. Let’s see what we can do about making a door.” They started back toward the fence.

  “See that pond over there?” Kenny pointed to the opposite corner of the park. “Sometimes my daddy brings us here to feed the fish. You scared the fish when you broke the gazebo.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Cassidy and me were feeding the fish and then there was a big boom and your car crashed and stuff flew up in the air and scared the fish. Scared me, too.”

  Cold shock seized his heart. “You were here the day of the accident?”

  The boy nodded. “It made a big noise.”

  “Kenny, let’s go.” Shelby called to him and waved.

  “Bye, Mr. Adam. Can I come help you again?”

  He struggled to find his voice. “Sure. You’re a good helper.”

  Kenny dashed off to join Shelby. Adam fought to pull air into his lungs. His heart pounded violently in his chest. Shame and horror filled his head. Quickly, he strode to the other side of the truck, seeking privacy. He laid his palms on the fender, bowing his head, willing his stomach to stop churning.

  For the first time since the crash, he truly saw the magnitude of his carelessness. Suddenly there was a flesh-and-blood consequence to his actions. How could he have been so stupid? Unfortunately he knew the answer. Because up until now he’d never had to face his mistakes. He’d paid his way out and gone on to the next thrill.

  “Oh, God. Forgive me.”

  Laura was right. He was self-absorbed. A man with no thought for anyone but himself. He wanted to walk away, leave Dover and never come back, but he was stuck here. Maybe if he talked to Pastor Jim. Maybe he could help him sort it all out….

  *

  Laura waved goodbye to Kenny and Shelby. She’d lost track of time. Nora Gibson, the woman who was doing Shelby and Matt’s wedding cake, had stopped by to talk and Laura had lost sight of the fact that she should be working. She turned back to the gazebo but didn’t see Adam anywhere.