Restoring Her Faith. Jennifer Slattery
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Название: Restoring Her Faith
Автор: Jennifer Slattery
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Love Inspired
isbn: 9781474096317
isbn:
“I, uh...sure.”
Drake glanced up as they approached, his blue eyes latching on to Faith’s and causing her cheeks to heat. He stood, feet shoulder distance apart, hand in his pocket. “Faith, this here’s my dad, Stanley Owens. He owns Owens Ranch out on Highway 59.”
The man gave a brief nod, his tight expression softening some. “Welcome to Sage Creek.”
Someone made a howling noise that sounded like a mix between Tarzan and a strangled pig.
Drake shook his head. “That troublemaker climbing that tree over there is my oldest, Trevor.” He motioned to a child, also blond, swinging, then jumping from low-hanging branches. The kid looked to be about six or seven years old. “And this here’s my mom, Sylvia.” He placed his hand on the shoulder of the silver-haired woman. “Best baker this side of San Antone.”
The woman waved her hand. “Don’t know about that, but I do love to keep my family sufficiently sweetened.” She winked at Drake, then motioned for Faith to sit on the picnic table bench beside her. “I hear you’ve been hired to help Drake, the town’s most eligible bachelor, fix our church right up.”
Heat flooded Faith’s cheeks. Surely the woman wasn’t implying...
His gaze met hers again, and her pulse skittered. She stiffened and looked away, then sat beside his mother and started forking bits of onion out of her green bean casserole.
“You’ve seen the place? Trinity Faith Church, I mean?” Sylvia asked. “Isn’t that a fine how-do-you-do. God’s hand if I ever saw it—Faith assigned, by faith, to restore Trinity Faith. I know there’s an amen story to that one.”
Faith blinked. “A what?”
“You know, how God brought you here to us.”
“Well...” No sense telling this poor woman that God had absolutely nothing to do with her being here, or her choices, period. Faith had seen enough of the ugliness of religion growing up to know she wanted nothing to do with it.
“I’ve always loved history and art.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I have a subscription to Lone Star Gems.” The most prestigious art and culture magazine in Texas, and the one she hoped would help salvage her career, so long as she managed to get a feature. “A few months ago, they did an article on some of Texas’s oldest churches. They were all so beautiful and unique, I knew I had to see them. But while researching my trip, I read about your church’s fire.”
“So sad.” Sylvia shook her head. “But I’m not worried none. You and Drake will fix that place up good as new.” She flashed a grin.
Drake, the man who could spike her pulse with just a glance, working alongside her...
For two weeks, maybe longer...
Totally not a big deal, considering he wasn’t her type. The man was country from his boots to his Stetson.
Still, she’d be wise to maintain an appropriate distance.
Faith liked Drake’s mom. She had stories for everything, many of them hilarious, and about half were about her son and grandkids. It was clear she cherished her role as Meemaw, as she was called.
As the afternoon wore on, Drake’s boys started to bicker, his oldest teasing the little one by holding a Frisbee just out of reach. According to their father, the youngest was determined to be like his big brother, which often resulted in tears from the younger and taunting from the older. Little William ran after Trevor, then tripped on a branch and fell splat on his face. He remained there, crying and wailing.
“Oh!” Faith sprang to her feet, one hand on her mouth.
“Excuse me.” Drake set his Coke on the picnic table and ambled to his son’s side. Upon reaching him, Drake pulled him up, dropped to one knee and set the child on his other. “What’s broken?”
William sniffed, tears streaking his dirty face.
“Your arm?” He lifted the boy’s arm, wiggled it until he started to laugh. “Your leg?” He grabbed his son’s leg, nearly causing him to topple over, if not for Drake’s stabilizing arm on his back. “Oh, I know. Your ear.” He stuck a finger in William’s ear, causing him to squeal and squirm.
Faith laughed.
“Sure is good with those boys.”
She turned to find one of the women among numerous Elizabeth had introduced Faith to—she couldn’t remember her name—standing beside her, sucking on a chicken bone.
“Glad to see it.” The woman leaned closer, hand cupped around her mouth. “I was worried, with his dad’s accident and all. Thought Drake would go through another dark spell, like he did when his wife died. Didn’t know who’d step in to take care of things then.”
Drake was a widower? But he was so young, as were his kids. Faith felt her heart tug in his direction.
“Well.” Drake’s mom stood and began gathering used paper plates from the table. “I suppose it’s getting to be that time.”
His sister sprang to her feet. “Need help with Dad?”
“I...” She glanced at Drake.
As if sensing her attention, he tossed his son over his shoulder and hurried to them. “You and Dad ready to jet?” he asked his mother.
“I hate to put you out.”
“Stop.” His expression turned firm. He glanced about before catching Faith’s eye. “Give me a minute?”
“Sure. No problem.” The way Drake’s father was scowling, his mom was wringing her hands and his sister was picking at her pinkie nail, Faith felt she’d stumbled into a private family squabble.
She helped with cleanup, trying to answer the seemingly endless questions random strangers fired her way.
One of the older women gave her a knowing smile and asked what she thought of the rancher’s son.
As if she planned to stay for the duration.
She tossed her napkin into a nearby trash can. “I haven’t.” Regardless of how attractive she found Drake or how welcoming all these people were, she had no intention of living in a small town again.
* * *
Drake grabbed the handles of his dad’s wheelchair. The terrain in front of them—grass dotted with bare patches and numerous dips, ridges and rises—made pushing the thing a challenge. Elizabeth must have suffered quite a workout to get Dad from the truck to the picnic table. Not to mention getting him into the truck in the first place.
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