The Santa Express

by Leeanna Morgan

  Shelley sighed. “I know he does.”

  “Good.” Mabel patted Shelley’s arm. “Now go and see that architect. If I’m not here when you’re finished, come to the store. I expect a full debrief.”

  “I’ll find you,” Shelley promised. “See you soon.” And with a sandwich in her hand, she hurried toward the parking lot. Hopefully, the architect’s vision and budget matched hers.

  Otherwise, her dream homes would disappear and painting each house was the only improvement she’d make.

  John paced back and forth. After he’d tutored this morning’s hospitality class, he’d searched for Shelley. It wasn’t until he spoke to Mabel that he discovered where she’d gone.

  But that was two hours ago, and she still hadn’t returned.

  All sorts of scenarios shot through his mind. Maybe she’d decided that working at the center wasn’t a good idea. She might be at Bailey’s house, working from the dining room table. Or maybe she’d finished talking to the architect and was filling out the application form for the job in New York.

  The sound of footsteps in the corridor made his heart pound. When he saw Bailey, he sighed. Before she walked all the way to Shelley’s office, he stuck his head around the door frame. “Shelley’s not there.”

  Bailey turned and frowned. “I know. I told her I’d leave some ideas for the flower fundraiser on her desk.” She looked more closely at John. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he lied. “How’s Shelley?”

  “She’s fine, too.”

  John’s eyes narrowed. Was Bailey serious or was she being as careful as he was?

  Bailey crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You know you shouldn’t have listened to Jarrod, don’t you?”

  “Some of what he said made sense.”

  “That’s how he works. He adds just enough truth into what he says to make you think everything is reasonable. It’s not.”

  John already felt like an idiot. Admitting as much to Bailey wasn’t necessary. He could see in her eyes what she thought of him. “Is Shelley still with the architect?”

  “No. The architect left half an hour ago. Shelley won’t be back at work for the rest of the day.”

  John waited for Bailey to tell him where she was. She stayed silent. It looked as though sisterly solidarity was more important than a pastor with limited emotional intelligence.

  Bailey looked at the folder she was holding. “If you want to talk things through with Shelley, she’s in one of the cottages. You’ll earn brownie points if you take a sledgehammer and pry bar with you.”

  John grabbed his jacket. “She’s pulling the house apart?”

  “More like venting her frustrations on 100 years’ worth of cobwebs and dirt. But don’t worry. The architect told her where to start and what to do.”

  He checked that his keys were in his pocket. “Thanks. You’ll never know how much this means to me.”

  “Just don’t make a mess of your apology. And take fudge. It might make Shelley more agreeable to talking to you.”

  John kissed Bailey’s cheek. “I owe you a big favor.”

  “You can name your firstborn after me.”

  He looked to see if she was joking.

  Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “Yes, I was joking. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to leave this folder on Shelley’s desk and get back to the medical clinic. Good luck.”

  “Thanks. I’ll need it.” John hurried down the corridor and into the parking lot. Before he met Shelley, he had some tools and candy to buy.

  Shelley lifted her safety glasses into place and took a deep breath. Before the architect had left, she’d told her how to take the drywall off the walls separating the small kitchen, dining room, and living rooms. Except her instructions weren’t very in-depth, and Shelley was worried she’d rip old wiring out of the wall and electrocute herself. Or, in a worst-case scenario, pull more than the drywall down and have half the house fall on top of her.

  She thought of her personal improvement plan and gripped the handle of the sledgehammer. In-depth instructions were a thing of the past. She was spontaneous, adventurous, and could do anything she set her mind to. Besides, how difficult could it be to demolish a couple of walls? She was stronger than she looked, and she had the general store’s most expensive sledgehammer in her hands.

  She looked around the living room and saw her neon-yellow hard hat sitting beside her jacket. Quickly, she put it on and lifted the sledgehammer into place.

  Three holes in the drywall guided where she would aim her first swing. Cautiously, she drew the sledgehammer back, then propelled it forward, slamming into the drywall. It hardly made a dent. She tried again, this time with more force, but only produced a slightly bigger dent. After a few more tries, she left the sledgehammer on the floor and grabbed hold of the mutilated drywall, pulling with all her might.

  A satisfying crack appeared in the sheet and Shelley pulled harder. Before she knew it, she was holding a large, musty piece of drywall and was covered in gritty plaster dust.

  “I have a spare mask if you want one?”

  Shelley jumped. That couldn’t be John. How did he know she was here?

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He stood in the doorway holding a packet of face masks, a sledgehammer, and two tool belts. “The door was open.”

  The one person she was trying to ignore had just walked into her house. Didn’t John know that the main reason she was here was to get him out of her mind? How was she supposed to de-stress when the man you were de-stressing from was in the same room?

  Shelley picked up the sledgehammer. “I don’t need a mask. Watch out.” This time, there was a loud crunch as another sheet splintered.

  “Do you want me to give it a pull?”

  Shelley straightened her hard hat. “I’ll do it later. Why are you here?”

  “I want to apologize.”

  “You don’t need a sledgehammer and tool belt to apologize.”

  John cleared his throat. “One of the tool belts is a housewarming present.” He cautiously crossed the room. “It’s leather and the tools are all good quality. Allan said if you ever need the chisels sharpened, just see him.”

  “Allan from the general store?” Shelley laid the sledgehammer on the floor and took the tool belt. It was heavier than it looked. There was a hammer, two screwdrivers, three chisels, a measuring tape, and a small rectangular box.

  John must have seen what she was looking at, because he said, “That’s a stud finder.”

  Shelley’s eyebrows rose.

  “Not for…” John took one look at her face and sighed. “You know what it’s for, don’t you?”

  Without showing any sign of the smile that was threatening to break free, Shelley flicked on the power button and ran it across the wall. A shrill beep told her she’d found a stud. “Dad has one at home.”

  John reached inside his jacket pocket. “I bought you something else, too.”

  Shelley would have recognized the little bag of deliciousness anywhere. “Fudge?”

  Another bag appeared from a different pocket. “I’m desperate. If Brooke’s fudge changes your mind about me, the wait in the line was worth it.”

  Shelley knew how long the lines outside Sweet Treats could get. She didn’t need to look through the windows to know it was a cold, overcast day. If John was willing to stand in line for fudge, he might still be the man for her.

  She took the bags. “What are you apologizing for?”

  “I should have listened to you instead of Jarrod. But that wasn’t why I was upset.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  “I was worried you’d find any excuse to leave because”—John took a deep breath—“because I would never be enough for you. I’m worried that one day, you’ll regret being part of my life and want to leave.”

  Shelley frowned. “I love you. Why would I leave?”

  “I’m not like Jarrod. I don’t wear expensive suits or earn huge amounts
of money. I’ll never own a house in the Hamptons or be able to afford luxury overseas vacations. All I can offer you is me.”

  Shelley put the bags of fudge beside the tool belt. “And you don’t think that’s enough?”

  “I thought it was until Jarrod told me about the job in New York.”

  “I don’t want to live in New York City. I want to live here. With you.”

  For the first time since John arrived, he looked hopeful. “Are you sure?”

  Shelley stood in front of him. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” She ran her hand along the front of his shirt. “There’s something else I’m sure about.”

  John swallowed. “There is?”

  “I need to have the drywall off the timber frames by the end of the day. Did you bring an extra sledgehammer for show or were you planning to use it?”

  John smiled. “I’m an all-or-nothing kind of guy. Show me what you want me to do.”

  Shelley grinned. “Follow me.”

  John held her steady. “Does this mean I’m forgiven for not listening to you?”

  “You are. And I’ll be even more understanding after the drywall is gone.”

  Chapter 15

  John stood on a ladder, staring at a section of rotting wood. After three hours of pulling off the drywall in the living areas, they’d found more than the timber frames.

  Shelley sighed. “That doesn’t look good.”

  “It’s not as bad as it might have been.” John used the end of the pry bar to poke the wood above the worst area. “The wood’s still wet.”

  “Is the black mold dangerous?”

  “It can be. It would pay to leave your mask on.”

  Shelley studied the rest of the wooden beam. “It doesn’t look as though there’s any other water damage.”

  “Not in the living room, but don’t be surprised if we find something in the kitchen and bathroom. Old houses hide all kinds of secrets.” John climbed down the ladder and looked at the rest of the exposed timber framing. “This wall is coming out, so it’s not as big an issue as it could have been. But the water pipes and wiring are ancient.”

  “Patrick and his team are replacing everything. We thought it would be a good idea considering we’re removing all the drywall.” Shelley pulled out her cell phone and took a photo of the wet timber. “I’ll send him a photo.”

  John moved the ladder from the center of the room. Even though the exposed frames were still in place, removing the drywall gave them a better idea of what the open-plan living area would look like. “This will be a great living space.”

  Shelley’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “It will be perfect. Do you want to look at the kitchen design?”

  “You’ve organized an entire kitchen? How long have you been working on the plans?”

  “Since the day I bought the houses.” Shelley opened a folder that was leaning against the fireplace. “The architect had a late cancelation, so she squeezed in my plans before Christmas. What do you think?”

  With the new kitchen design in his hand, he stood in the area where it would be built. Opening the living area into one open-plan space created room for a large island. Behind that, a series of cabinets would give Shelley twice as much storage and a more practical layout.

  “These are the cupboards and counter I’m having.” Shelley found a photo on her phone and showed John.

  He was impressed. Patrick and his team would tear out the yellow and cream cabinets and replace them with glossy white cupboards and a large walk-in pantry. The red Formica counter would disappear and, in its place, a white and gray stone counter would tie the whole look together.

  “I knew the houses had a lot of potential. But it wasn’t until I spoke to the architect that I realized how much I could do with the space.”

  “Are you using the same design and materials for the other house?”

  Shelley nodded. “We’ll get a better price if we buy things for both houses. The plans are identical, so it made sense to keep the remodel consistent.” Her gaze traveled to the far side of the room. “A dumpster is being delivered tomorrow morning. I’ll finish work early and load all the old drywall into it.”

  John didn’t want to think about how much time it would take. “I’ll look at my diary and see if I can finish work a little earlier, too.”

  “You don’t have to do that. Bailey said she’d give me a hand and Caleb and Steven are happy to help as long as I provide the pizza.”

  “Are you saying that because you know how busy I am or because you don’t want me to help?”

  Shelley took off her mask. “The official opening of three more tiny homes is happening soon. The Welcome Center’s food parcels are flying out the door, and Bailey said you’re having trouble accommodating everyone who needs somewhere to stay. I don’t want to add another job to your list.”

  John looked into Shelley’s worried brown eyes. “I appreciate you looking after me, but I can help.”

  Shelley started to say something, then stopped.

  “It’s okay. You can tell me whatever’s on your mind.”

  “I’m not sure I can.”

  John frowned. “Why?”

  “Because you might not like what I was going to say.”

  It couldn’t be any worse than what he’d said to Shelley yesterday. “Go ahead. I’ll listen with an open mind and won’t take it personally.”

  Shelley smiled.

  That one simple act made him feel like he was walking on air.

  “I was going to say that you don’t have to help everyone. If you burn yourself out, or have an accident because you’re tired, you won’t be able to do anything. Bailey, Steven, and Caleb are more than happy to help me tomorrow. There’ll be plenty of other times when I’ll need your awesome muscles and funny jokes.”

  John took off his mask. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

  A soft blush appeared on Shelley’s cheeks. “It wasn’t flattery. Your muscles are pretty awesome.”

  “I think you’re pretty awesome, too.” He desperately wanted to kiss Shelley, to tell her she meant more to him than anyone else in the world. But he didn’t want to push his luck.

  Shelley stepped closer. “You think I’m awesome even though I’ve got teeny-tiny muscles and I’m covered in plaster dust?”

  John swallowed deeply. “You’ll have bigger muscles by the time you’ve finished the houses. And the dust is easily fixed. A hot shower and—”

  Shelley brushed her mouth against his.

  Suddenly, the room felt hot and heavy, as if all the air had been sucked into a giant vortex of desire. John pulled Shelley close, kissing her like his life depended on it.

  He wanted her to be The One. His one. The woman he would love like there were no tomorrows. The woman who would make his life complete.

  With a soft groan, Shelley pulled her mouth away and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Sorry. Your incredible mouth distracted me.”

  John rested his head against Shelley’s and smiled. “I like it when you’re distracted.”

  Shelley looked through The Welcome Center’s kitchen window. “Look at all the people.”

  Mabel peered over her shoulder. “Each time we finish a tiny home, the crowd gets larger. Can you see John?”

  There were so many people walking toward the tiny home village, that it was hard to tell where he was. “He must be on the other side of the houses.” Shelley stepped away from the window and looked around the kitchen. “Are the baskets of muffins ready? I could take them to the houses.”

  “That would be great.” Mabel took half a dozen muffins off a cooling rack and placed them inside the last basket. “Here you go. When you’re inside each house, make sure someone has dropped off the linens. With all the people coming and going, it’s easy to forget the basics.”

  John walked into the kitchen and Shelley smiled. For someone who had been organizing the last-minute additions to the tiny homes, he looked remarkably calm. “How’s everything
going?”

  “We had a slight issue with one of the bunk beds, but Patrick got that sorted. I was just coming to get the muffins, but you beat me to it.”

  “You could take one of the baskets, if you like. When does the official handover start?”

  John checked his watch. “In fifteen minutes.”

  Mabel shooed them out of the kitchen. “You’d better get a move on. No one wants to be outside in the cold for longer than they have to.”

  John picked up the third basket and walked out of the kitchen with Shelley. “I’m glad you’re here for the opening ceremony.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because it feels incredible to see the happiness and gratitude on the faces of the people who are moving into the tiny homes. We’re witnessing something that’s life-changing for them.”

  “What will you do when the village is completely finished?”

  “Hopefully, by that stage, we’ll have secured the funding for the wraparound services we want to provide. Setting up the budgeting and counseling programs will take time. After that, I’m not sure what we’ll do.”

  Shelley smiled. “I’m sure you’ll think of another equally incredible project.”

  John laughed. “Maybe in a couple of years. Santa’s Secret Helpers and the fundraising committee will keep me busy for the next twelve months.”

  “Did I tell you about Bailey’s latest idea?”

  John groaned. “No. Can you tell me after the opening ceremony? I’m not sure I can handle her overactive imagination this early in the morning.”

  “Okay. But it’s a great idea.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  Just as they were about to leave The Welcome Center, Andy and Charlie rushed toward them.

  “Pastor John!” Andy said excitedly. “Mom’s coming home for Christmas.”

  “And she’s staying forever,” Charlie added. “And Mr. Jessop said we can all stay with him ’cos the center has lots of people who want to stay here.”

  John knelt on the floor in front of the boys. “That’s wonderful. Your mom must be just as excited as you are.”