Coming Home: (Contemporary Christian Romance Boxed Set): Three Stories of Love, Faith, Struggle & Hope

by Debra Ullrick

  Erik raked his fingers through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. In the short time he’d lived here, he’d learned two things about Aunt Adell. One—she was a great judge of character. Two—her female intuition was impeccable.

  Well then, he glanced down at his burgundy shirt, balanced the cookie tin in one hand, and quickly tucked his shirttail in. He’d better get to it. After wiping the dust off of his pressed blue jeans, he laid a spearmint breath strip on his tongue and opened the door.

  Terri rose from her chair behind her wooden desk. “It’s about time you got here,” his matronly secretary whispered.

  “Sorry, I’m late. I got delayed,” he spoke loud enough so that the woman waiting for him could hear him too.

  At the sound of his voice, the lady turned.

  Erik’s lungs ceased to work.

  One word came to mind. Stunning.

  “Mr. Cole, this is Miss Roseman.”

  The word “Miss” snagged his attention. He kept his smile from showing even though his stomach was doing a ten point, monster truck cyclone. He took three long strides toward her, shifted the cookie tin to his left hand, and extended his right hand. “Nice to meet you, Miss Roseman.”

  When her soft hand touched his, sparks flew up his arm. Thunderstruck, he cleared his throat and released her hand.

  “Please, call me Olivia.” Her raspy voice punctured his inner core. He’d always been a sucker for a woman with a broken husky voice.

  Their eyes connected.

  Turquoise eyes, unlike anything he’d ever seen before, threatened to draw him into their depths.

  C’mon Erik. Pull yourself together man. This is an interview for a job, not a date.

  Erik strong-armed himself to look away and turned toward Terri. “Hold all my calls, okay?”

  “I sure will.” Her brown eyes sparkled behind her oval glasses.

  He wanted to warn his secretary to behave, but not in front of Miss Roseman. This time he’d let her not-so-subtle matchmaking notion go.

  “Miss Rose—, Olivia. Shall we go into my office?” He motioned toward the door.

  She picked up her portfolio, gave him a small smile, and nodded.

  As she walked past him, the scent of roses floated up his nostrils. Man she smells nice. He glanced at the ripples of gold threading their way down her waist length tresses. His fingers itched to touch one of the curls to see if they were as soft as they looked. Oh man, Erik groaned inwardly, then gave himself another good talking to. Stop it! This is ridiculous. You’re a grown man, not some love struck high school boy. So stop acting like one.

  Lord, help me to get through this interview. And if she’s the one You want me to hire, please show me. I want Your will, not mine.

  ♥♥♥♥

  If Olivia were still a praying woman, she’d pray her heart out for the strength to make it through this interview. But she wasn’t. Unfortunately, she knew she was on her own with this one. The second she laid eyes on the handsome man, she battled the urge to stare at him. She hadn’t expected the employer to be quite so good-looking. Nor had she expected her pulse to increase.

  A good seven inches taller than her, he sported her favorite combination—dark brown hair and brown eyes. Large chocolate disks came to mind. And the miniscule cleft in his chin gave his face a strong masculine appeal.

  Olivia stepped inside his office. Her eyes locked onto several pictures of people and trucks hanging on the pale blue wall.

  “Have a seat.” Mr. Cole motioned toward a cornflower blue chair.

  Olivia willed her insides to stop shaking, but they weren’t cooperating. “Thank you.” When she sat down, the leather chair squeaked, filling the silence. She crossed her legs and watched him lower his tall, broad shouldered frame onto a navy chair on the opposite side of the expansive desk.

  He set a tin canister off to the side, leaned forward, placed his arms on the desk, and folded his large hands together. Hands so like Hammond’s. Not now, Olivia! This is not the time or the place to think about Hammond. Olivia forced all thoughts of Hammond from her mind and concentrated on the man who was about to interview her.

  “So, you’re interested in painting my monster truck?”

  “Yes.” Olivia hated that her voice shook. Too bad it was unprofessional to chew gum during an interview because right now she longed to pop a whole pack in her mouth. Gum chewing had a way of calming her nerves.

  “Do you have any experience?”

  “Yes.” She glanced down at her portfolio, unzipped it, and then looked up at him. “I’ve airbrush painted a few trucks and hundreds of motorbikes and snowmobiles before.”

  That is before Hammond disappeared, and before her ex-boss, Markus, decided to try and force himself on her. Thankfully, Rob, one of her coworkers had come back to the shop to get something he’d forgotten or otherwise… Olivia contained the shudder that rippled through her.

  Since that dreadful day, her ex-boss had sabotaged every chance she had of gaining employment in Wheeling. He said he would get even with her, and he had. Humph. Like it was her fault that Markus had been arrested for attacking her. To this day, she still couldn’t believe that her ex-boss had actually accused her of leading him on. Of flirting with him and teasing him. But Olivia knew that wasn’t true because she only had eyes for Hammond. Even after Hammond’s disappearance.

  Besides, something about the way Markus had always looked at her made her skin crawl. Olivia had gone out of her way to avoid him, and only talked to him when she absolutely had to. And each time she spoke with him, she’d kept it strictly business. So his accusations about it being her fault were definitely false. Markus just wanted someone to blame for his repulsive action.

  Too bad she had to put her ex-boss down for a reference.

  Overwhelmed with the prospect that Markus could somehow jeopardize her chances of landing employment here as well, Olivia thought about asking God to help her get this job, and to not have Mr. Cole call Markus for a reference, but she knew He wasn’t listening to her. So why bother? Instead, she crossed her fingers, hoping Mr. Cole wouldn’t ask for any references.

  As she shifted her portfolio on her lap, to her horror the laminated pictures slipped from her grasp and cascaded to the floor. “Oh no.” She tossed her leather case on his desk and scooted off the chair. Squatting, she grabbed four pictures and shuffled them in an even stack. When she reached for her eagle drawing, her hand landed on top of Mr. Cole’s. Her gaze flew upward and snagged onto his. Olivia found herself helpless to break contact. His rain-fresh aftershave drifted up her nose.

  “I’ve got it.” His deep voice mingled with spearmint snapped her out of her trance. Not one to blush, Olivia felt her cheeks flame. She jerked her hand away and dropped her head. Grateful her long hair curtained her face, she forced herself to not look at him but instead focused her attention on the other drawings still sprawled across the floor.

  While she gathered the three closest to her, Mr. Cole scooped up the remaining ones about three feet away from her and stood. With his free hand, he gently clutched her elbow and helped her up.

  “I’m so sorry.” She took the pictures from him and turned to gather her case from off his desk. “I should have—.” Her mouth dropped open in horror. “Oh no,” she groaned. How could she have been so stupid? Why didn’t she look before tossing her case? She scrambled to find something to wipe up the dark liquid sprawling across the end of his desk. She spotted a box of tissues, jerked several out and started blotting the spill. The tissues shredded the instant they touched the liquid, leaving oodles of tiny particles and making an even bigger mess.

  He laid his hand on her arm.

  Olivia refused to look at him. She’d never been so mortified in her life.

  “Please, don’t worry about it.”

  Tears stung the backs of her eyes at the kindness in his voice, but she refused to cry. She gathered what she could of the muddle she had made and tossed it into a nearby trashcan.

 
; He pushed the intercom button. “Terri, would you bring some paper towels in here, please?”

  Within seconds, the door opened and in bustled the tiny middle-aged woman. Olivia extended her hand toward her so she could take the roll and clean up her monstrous mess.

  Terri waved her away. “I’ll get it.” She unrolled several of the towels. “This happens all the time.” His secretary darted a glance at Erik and then back at her.

  Olivia forced her mouth shut and stared at the woman whose smile reminded her of her mother’s. Loneliness threatened to overshadow her as it so often did when she thought about her mother. Would the pain of missing her mom ever go away? Not a day went by that Olivia wished she would have treated her mother and father better. But she hadn’t. If only… No! I won’t think about that now. I won’t.

  Within seconds Terri had the disaster wiped clean. She tossed the paper towels in a trashcan and looked at Olivia. “I keep telling him he needs one of them spill-proof cups.” His secretary wrinkled her button nose at Mr. Cole. “I guess I’ll have to take money out of petty cash and go get you one.” She looked at Olivia and winked.

  Then, as fast as she’d breezed in, she breezed out. And Olivia was left alone to face her humiliation. She sucked in her lower lip and drew in a long breath as she gathered enough courage to face him.

  Light pressure on her shoulder caused her to look sideways and up into his face. The compassion and understanding she saw in his eyes touched a chord somewhere deep in her soul. A place she wasn’t willing to explore.

  “It’s okay.” He smiled, showing a row of white even teeth with the exception of one slightly crooked one on the upper left side. “Please,” he motioned toward the chair she’d occupied just minutes before. “Have a seat while I take a look at your drawings.”

  “Thank you.” She dipped her head. Seeing the coffee-stained papers and desk calendar, she again apologized. “I really am sorry.”

  “Forget it. No harm done.” He grabbed some papers and a calendar with monster truck photos and then sat back down in his office chair. He picked up her drawings and started looking through them.

  While he studied the pictures, Olivia scarcely breathed. After the mess she’d made, she wondered if she had completely blown any chance she might have had of getting hired. If only she believed in prayer, this would be a good time for it. But she didn’t. In fact, she wasn’t even sure she believed in God anymore.

  ♥♥♥♥

  “These are really good.” Erik laid the picture of a bald eagle with its wings spread on top of the rest of her drawings and looked at her.

  The uncertainty in her eyes crushed him. Maybe that look stemmed from the spilled coffee incident. If she only knew the number of times he himself had done stuff like that. Without knowing for sure why she looked that way, he opted to ignore it rather than risk embarrassing her by asking. “Would you like something to drink?”

  Her eyes widened, and she gave him a, you’re-kidding look. “No thank you, Mr. Cole.”

  “Mr. Cole?” Erik smiled and chuckled. “Please, call me Erik. Mr. Cole makes me feel old.”

  “Okay.” She hesitated. “Erik.”

  He liked the way his name sounded through her broken voice.

  “Are these original creations? I mean did you design these yourself?” Please say yes. He wanted to keep her around.

  “Yes, sir. I did.”

  His insides relaxed. “Nix the ‘sir’. Just Erik, okay?”

  She nodded and sucked in her lower lip.

  “Listen.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. “I know most monster truck drivers have gone to shrink wrap for their fiberglass bodies, but that’s not for me. What I’m looking for is someone to not only paint the numerous monster truck bodies I’ll wreck, but to also redesign the one I already have. I have three trucks, but I only need one design for all of them.”

  Her eyes brightened. “I can do that.” The confidence in her tone did funny things to his insides.

  He admired confident women. Especially this one.

  “Do you have a name already picked out for your truck?” She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward.

  “Yes. The Mad Masher.”

  “I see.”

  Erik saw the wheels in her head turning.

  “What style of body?”

  “A ’71 Chevy pickup.”

  She nodded. “How much detail are you wanting? I mean, do you want a flashy picture, a simple one, or what did you have in mind?”

  “Well.” He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “I love blue. So I want the truck to be mostly in blues except of course for the name and whatever design it has.”

  “Okay.” Her gaze went to his office wall. She tapped her finger against her lips and scrunched her face as she studied the pictures of his monster truck leaping over smashed cars, buses, and motor homes. “I know.” Her eyes widened. “How about putting a replica of your truck, leaping in the air over crushed cars on each door? I can make the bottom of the tires look as if they’re alive and devouring the obstacles they’re leaping over. You know, kind of like the curl of an ocean wave.” She squinted and pursed her lips. “The grill of the truck could have a wicked grin and sinister eyes. The body could be in a medium shade of blue with navy tire tread stripes down the sides and the drawing of the truck could be white. Your name and the name of the truck could be in dark blue outlined with white.”

  The way she described it, Erik could visualize it in his mind. And he liked what he saw. She made it come to life, unlike the others he had interviewed before her. He’d like nothing more than to hire her on the spot, but he wouldn’t do it without consulting God first. The Lord’s will meant more to him than his own. Erik sent up a silent request asking God to make it clear if he was to hire her. He no sooner asked the Lord than a resounding yes dropped into his spirit.

  “Olivia. You’ve got yourself a job. When can you start?”

  Her mouth formed an O. “I, um...”

  “I’m sorry. How foolish of me. We haven’t even discussed wages, hours, or what all you’d be doing.” After talking over the preliminaries with her, Erik couldn’t keep the hope-filled look from his face as he stared at her, waiting for her answer. Not only did he find her extremely attractive, she was talented too. Of all the people he’d interviewed, her work was the most impressive.

  After several long moments of silence, he had to say something. “If that doesn’t work for you, I’m sure we can come up with some sort of an agreement that will.”

  She waved her hand. “No, no that’s fine.”

  “When can you start?”

  The color siphoned from her face. She squirmed in her seat. “Um, I’m not sure. I’d have to find a place to live first.”

  “Right now it’s virtually impossible to find a place around here. But I have a solution if you’re interested.” The skeptical look in her turquoise eyes made him hasten forward. “I have an empty guest house at my place.”

  Her brows rose, and she shook her head. “Oh, no. I couldn’t do that. I’m sure I can find something.” The look of uncertainty touched a chord deep within him.

  He leaned back in his chair. “Listen. You’d be doing me a favor. My housekeeper is tired of airing out the place. The way I see it, the house would be better off with someone living in it, and you need a place to live. It’s a perfect solution for both of us. Plus, the shop you’ll be working in is close to the cottage. Why drive fifteen miles when you can live right there? I know this sounds selfish, but it really would help my housekeeper and me out. What d’ ya say?”

  ♥♥♥♥

  Olivia pulled in her lower lip. She stared into the air, contemplating what to do. While she had planned on living in her car, she now realized the futility of that because she’d have to eat out and pay for a shower somewhere until she got paid.

  Mentally she ticked off her options, or lack thereof.

  First off, her biggest road block was h
er financial situation. Her measly few dollars wouldn’t go very far.

  Secondly, most people required the first and last month’s rent.

  Thirdly, if she got a motel, it would cost at least forty dollars a day. And usually hotels that cheap were in the sleaziest, most dangerous neighborhoods. She’d had enough of that.

  Plus, she’d need fuel to drive back and forth to work every day. Again, money she didn’t have.

  Mr. Cole said there wasn’t anything available. She knew that to be true because she’d checked on the Internet at the library before she came here. The few places she’d seen available were for sale only. That definitely left her out.

  A piece of gum sounded great about now.

  She continued to weigh her options.

  If she stayed at his guesthouse, he insisted she’d be helping him and his housekeeper out. And if she did, she wouldn’t have to leave her beloved cat Samson behind.

  She looked up at Erik and studied his face. There was nothing in his eyes that creeped her out or frightened her like Markus’ had.

  What choice did she have really? Her only logical option was to take Mr. Cole up on his offer. At least until she got her first paycheck anyway. Then she would reassess her situation and maybe do something else. Well, she sighed, here goes nothing. Pulling in a breath of courage, she stood.

  Erik followed suit.

  Finally, she looked at him, extended her hand, and smiled. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  “Great.” The stiffness in his stance, relaxed. He glanced at his watch. “Listen, I’m pretty much done for the day, so why don’t I take you out there now to show you my truck? The shop you’ll be working in and the cottage are within walking distance of each other. Will that work for you?”