She picked up the broom leaning in the corner of the room and swept the dust from the now-exposed hardwood floors. She would miss parts of her life at Canyon Crossing, like being tired after a day of work. During the past week, she’d split her time between painting the mural at Will and Cassie’s home and working on her own house. It was a different kind of tired than she felt after a day at the office, where she felt drained from her time under fluorescent lights and in front of a computer screen.
Graphic design was definitely a worthy form of art just like any other, but having an opportunity to get paint under her fingernails reminded her of the art form she had first fallen in love with in college. Working on the house had been surprisingly similar. She could understand why Connor made a living at it. Seeing her hard work turn into something beautiful was gratifying. She had spent hours bent over her cabinet doors. Now every time she passed them in the kitchen, she felt a sense of pride from what she had created.
Laura scooped the dust into the pan and carried it to the trash can in the kitchen. The pace and the work smoothed her waters when the storm blew around her. Maybe it was where Connor had gotten the inner sense of calm she could see in his eyes. Or maybe it was his spirituality. When he had spoken of his faith in God, she had been a little envious of his ability to hand his problems over to a higher being. She wished she had that luxury.
Next Laura would take on her biggest challenge in the house—plumbing work.
In the kitchen she examined the leaky faucet. She had gotten an estimate from a local plumber that she couldn’t afford. He assured her she could handle some of the smaller parts of the job like replacing the faucet on her own, and the staff at the hardware store had explained everything she needed to know.
Her stomach quivered as she dug through the old toolbox she’d found. Pounding at the front door rattled the windows.
She sighed as she stood to her feet. If it was Connor at the door, she would be proud to show him what she had been able to do on the house without him—without anyone.
She swung the door open, clutching a wrench by her side.
“Laura Dobson,” said a man with a clipboard. He wore his cap so low on his head she couldn’t see his eyes.
“Yes?”
“I’m Robert Kenner with the city.”
She waited for an explanation. He only tilted his head up and blinked at her.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Kenner?”
He looked at his clipboard. “I see you obtained a permit for a remodel. I’d like to take a look around and verify that the work is up to city codes.”
“Codes?”
“You or your contractor submitted a plan for the electrical. I need to inspect the work,” he said in a monotone voice.
Her legs wobbled underneath her. Connor had mentioned something about a permit before she’d refused any more of his help. “Of course.”
“May I?” he asked, pointing inside the house.
Laura’s heart raced. She wanted to run around the house hiding things, although she had no idea what to hide. She stepped aside, having no understanding of what kinds of codes she might be breaking.
Laura followed him into the kitchen where her coffee mug and cereal bowl lay upside down on a dish towel on the Formica counters. He whipped his head around to her. “You’re actually living in this house?”
If only she had a rock she could crawl under. “Yes,” she said in a squeak.
He wandered back through the house to the living room and looked up at the wires dangling from the ceiling.
“Are you going to use a splice box before you install that fixture?”
Laura didn’t even know what that meant. Feelings of inadequacy flooded over her. “I, uh …”
He tilted his head back so she could see his eyes squinting at her. Then he directed his scowl at an outlet down by her feet. “Are you using circuit breakers?” He pointed across the room. “And are you going to replace that damaged electrical socket?”
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”
He waved his clipboard around the room. “Then is there anyone around here who knows anything? Your husband? Your dad? A boyfriend?”
She stepped backward, afraid the clipboard would come flying at her face.
Laura bit her lip hard. A bleeding lip would have been better than him seeing her tremble. She had dealt with some sexist men during her career, and she wasn’t about to let this one see her break.
She forced herself to stand up straighter. “Why are you here? Don’t you usually schedule these things? Are you just looking for someone with a do-it-yourself job to bust?”
He cocked his head. “I don’t need to search for offenders. It doesn’t take long for news to make its way around Wyatt Bend.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and could feel her heart beating wildly. Had she been the topic of local gossip?
“Someone called me and had a lot of questions about the work going on here,” the man said without looking at her.
Someone had ratted her out. Laura ran through the short list of people she knew in Wyatt Bend. Herschel had tried to push her and Connor together, but he wouldn’t go this far.
Laura gave up on standing up straight and let her shoulders fall forward. “Can you tell me who?”
He shone a short silver flashlight into a hole in the drywall where Laura planned to add another light fixture. “I assured him I’d keep it confidential.”
Laura leaned on the dark wood trim around the entrance to the kitchen. “I don’t know why someone would do something like that.”
The inspector pulled the staircase railing, causing it to rock back and forth. “You know how some people can be. They’re always meddling in other people’s business. He called with a list of questions about what was going on here.”
She turned around and leaned the back of her heavy head against the cool wall. Thomas had been angry that Connor was helping—angry enough to do something stupid to get back at them.
“I’m not going to fine you today,” he said.
She lifted her head. The grouchy inspector did have a heart. She followed him out the front door as he scribbled down notes.
“I’ll be back in a few weeks to check everything out and make sure you’re getting all the problems with code violations corrected.”
She needed more than a few weeks to make this house livable. “And if they’re not fixed when you come back?”
He clicked the end of his ink pen. “If I don’t see significant progress, I’ll have no choice but to shut the project down.”
Chapter 15
Laura walked around the corner of the church building and spotted a group of boys sitting in a tight circle under the basketball hoop on the concrete slab. At the head of the circle, Connor waved a branch in the air.
Curious, Laura stepped out of the late-afternoon sun and into the shadows of the church building to avoid interrupting them. Connor’s hands and the branch swung wildly through the air causing the boys to wail with laughter. She had never seen him so animated.
She should have known he was a Boy Scout.
Laura hated being wrong and considered turning around and sneaking back to the safety of her truck. She wanted to stand by her conviction that she didn’t need his help, but she didn’t have anywhere else to go.
A Boy Scout leader wouldn’t be able to turn away someone who needed a favor. Right? If being a Boy Scout didn’t do it, maybe she would pull out the “you ended my engagement” line.
The group of boys bowed their heads, and Connor read from a small book. Then the boys scattered, some running through the grass and another trying and failing to touch the basketball hoop. Others hung back to stand under Connor, looking up at him as he spoke.
She must look like a stalker standing in the shadows staring at Connor. She smoothed her cotton skirt and ran her fingers across the back of her hair. She did her best impersonation of someone brave as she walked to the edge of the basketball court an
d waited for him.
His eyes met hers, and she tried to shake off the tingle he sent down her back. It had to be nerves, nothing more.
“I thought all you did was work,” she said.
He gave a boy with bright-red hair a high five as he ran by him. “Unfortunately, that’s almost true. I try to venture out to the real world every now and then.”
Laura looked around at the stained glass window on the back of the church above a droning air-conditioner unit. “So, this is the real world?”
“No doubt about it. Nothing keeps me humble like a group of hyper, crazy boys. They’re great kids.”
The closest Laura had ever been to mentoring a kid was telling a boy screaming in the hall of her building to find his mother. She could see why kids would love Connor. With his steady, friendly nature, he had a way of putting people at ease.
Laura smiled. She’d forgotten the speech she had practiced in the truck, something about how she had reevaluated the home and discovered he might be helpful after all. “Any extracurricular activity sounds fine to me, as long as it doesn’t involve catching rattlesnakes.”
Connor gave her the three-finger salute. “I hope there aren’t snakes involved, but you know the Boy Scout pledge.”
She rolled her eyes.
He laughed and dropped his hand to his side. “How did you find me?”
“I stopped by your office. Will told me you were here.”
He stepped backward with an overexaggerated look of shock on his face. “You came looking for me?”
Clearly he wasn’t going to make this easy on her. “Something like that,” she said.
“I’m just kidding. What’s up?”
Laura rubbed her hands together, trying to find a way to say what she had to say without admitting she felt like an utter failure. “Some guy with the town of Wyatt Bend came yesterday asking a bunch of questions I didn’t know the answers to and threatened to shut me down.”
Connor cocked his head looking annoyed. “Was it Kenner?”
Laura kicked at the tall grass under her feet. “I think so. I’m not sure. I was too busy feeling like an idiot to catch his name.”
“I’m surprised he came out. We don’t get a lot of random inspections on projects like yours.”
“It wasn’t random. Someone turned me in.”
Connor’s face creased. “Who would do that?”
Laura wasn’t ready to broach the topic of Thomas with Connor. “It doesn’t matter.” She licked her lips, preparing to put her pride aside and plead for Connor’s help. “It doesn’t change my situation. I don’t know what to do. I’m drowning in the mess I’m in.”
“I can give you the names of a few trades, a good electrician and a plumber.”
Laura shook her head. “I’ve tried that. I don’t have the money. I’m barely going to cover this month’s house payment.” It pained Laura to admit it, especially to the guy with the big truck and the successful business. “I’m working on getting a few freelance graphic design jobs through my connections in Florida, but that money won’t be available right away.”
He rested a hand on her shoulder. “You can do this.” His eyes were wide and earnest. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
She hadn’t had to beg or even ask him. He offered to help her after she had turned him away. She nodded, not knowing what to say.
“Can I come over on Saturday? We’ll go over everything. Figure out how we can save some money. I can call in some favors.”
Again, she nodded.
He looked straight into her eyes. “It’s going to be okay. Have faith. This will work out for God’s purpose.”
This guy was definitely a Boy Scout.
Connor walked up the front steps of the house with a paper cup filled with coffee in each hand. This was his opportunity to make things right and spend an entire Saturday with Laura. When she showed up at his Scout meeting of all places, Connor had wanted to grab her and hug her for giving him another chance on the house.
The door rattled as he knocked with his elbow. He stood tall, waiting to see her through the glass in the door.
No answer.
He tucked one cup of coffee in his arm and tried knocking harder with his knuckle.
No, Laura. Lord, please don’t let her have changed her mind.
Most concerning to Connor was the hopelessness he had seen in her eyes. Laura was struggling right now, and by the sound of it, she didn’t have her faith to lean on. Even if he could never convince her to fully trust him again, Connor would do everything he could to get her to see she could put her trust in the Lord.
The red and blue truck sat parked on the gravel drive, and those big rubber boots she had been wearing were propped upside down on the porch.
His heart sped up a little, and his mind worked overtime.
He stopped, listening. The soft hum of music drifted through a gust of wind and disappeared as it calmed.
He rushed down the steps, flinching when scorching coffee sloshed through the hole in the lid and down his hand.
The music was coming from the barn. The huge doors stood wide open, and as he approached them, the sound of oldies music sang in his ears. The doors on the opposite side of the barn were also open, framing Laura’s silhouette in the gigantic opening.
With her back turned toward Connor, Laura swayed to the music, her blond ponytail swishing with every move. He stepped into the barn, out of the glare of the sun.
A make-do easel—a stool made from a tractor seat—held up a small canvas. Laura, paintbrush in hand, stepped in toward the bright painting, made a tiny stroke, and stepped back out to sway to the mixture of music and static.
This girl was full of surprises, each one more exciting.
She paced back and forth and held up her paintbrush, the end glistening with shiny green paint.
She turned and looked at him. She did a double take followed by a jump and a scream. It jolted Connor, and he poured more of the hot coffee down his fists.
He had terrified the poor woman—again. This was not starting off like he had planned.
She stood slightly bent and held her heart. “Do you always sneak up on people like this?”
Connor balanced the coffee cups with his arm as he slung the liquid from his wet hands. “I didn’t mean to. I was watching you….”
“Watching me?” she asked, her eyes wide. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Only a few seconds.”
Laura’s face flushed with color.
“No, don’t be embarrassed. It was great. I loved watching you paint.”
She turned the knob on the old radio. The sound of hay swirling on the barn floor and swallows building a nest replaced the music.
“Is it already eight thirty?”
He looked at his watch. “On the dot.”
She stuck a paintbrush in a can of water. “Wow. I had no idea I had been out here that long.”
He inspected the small picture. The brilliant colors looked like they might dance off the canvas. “What are you working on?”
“Absolutely nothing,” she said in a breathy voice. “I don’t remember the last time I painted just to paint.” Staring at her creation, she looked like a new mom looking at a child.
He couldn’t keep himself from smiling. “You really love painting, don’t you?”
She scrunched her lips and looked up toward the rafters. “I do. I guess I’d forgotten.”
“Why don’t you do this for a living?”
“I do,” she said.
When they met, she had mentioned working for a corporation in an office, which seemed like a far cry from painting in a barn.
“I mean, I did. Sort of. Graphic design is still art, just digital. For a while I convinced myself I liked graphic design more than painting, but honestly, it feels pretty good to have to scrub my hands at the end of the day and still not remove all the dried paint.”
Connor understood. These days, most of his job involved m
anaging people, trades, budgets, and clients. What he really wanted was a hammer and some nails and a project he could do himself.
Connor pushed Thomas and all of his problems out of his mind. Today he would focus on Laura and the house and shelve his worries for another day. “Ready to get started?”
Laura followed Connor up the small wooden ladder leading to the attic. She hadn’t even seen the attic, and the prospect of spending the day in a hot, musty room with Connor didn’t sound like her idea of fun.
She longed to be back in the barn with her paintbrush. Her time painting made her shoulders loose and her neck relaxed. It was better than a long massage at the spa.
After crawling through the opening in the attic floor, she dusted off the knees of her overalls and adjusted the yellow bandana she had tied around her hair.
A small window at the end of the room let sunlight stream into the space, making the attic brighter than she expected. She had imagined it would be an empty space, but boxes, trunks, and items worthy of display at an antique store sat scattered around the room.
Laura ran her fingers across the smooth black keys of an old typewriter. “Wow. Look at all this stuff.”
“You didn’t know this was up here?”
“No. I hate bats as much as rattlesnakes.”
Connor ducked down and swung his head around the room. “Looks like we’re bat free.”
He grabbed a beam above his head and pulled down on it. “I called in some favors. My buddy is going to do some roof repairs today.”
No more leaks. Excitement rushed through her. “Thank you. That’s great news.”
Connor rested both of his forearms on the beam. “No worries. He owed me one.”
Laura flipped the lid of a black chest open and waved away the dust that flew into the air. “Dare I ask why he owes you one?”
Canyon Weddings Page 25
