Restoring Her Faith. Jennifer Slattery
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tell, she hasn’t done more than a handful of stained glass restorations, if that.”
“She can’t be too inept. She got the contract, didn’t she?”
“I’m not so sure.”
“What do you mean?”
“I asked Mayor Pearson about it. Both of us remember the restoration team choosing Leaded Pane. He’s going to go through all the bids tomorrow.”
“So you’re thinking that other outfit might show up in the morning, ready to get to work.” His friend shook his head. “That’ll be awkward.”
“Tell me about it.” As if Drake didn’t have enough drama to deal with. Then again, that was the best-case scenario. The worst would be her actually doing the job and proving incompetent. “The restoration team’ll handle it. Let her down gently and send her on her way.”
He glanced at his dad. He had to be getting cranky, sitting in the SUV like he was.
Drake turned to see what was keeping his mom, then froze.
Faith stood a few feet away, and based on her expression, had been there for some time. Long enough to hear most everything.
“Hello.” Her tone was clipped.
Bryce cleared his throat and took a half step back, as if distancing himself from the mess Drake had just created.
“Hey.” Drake swallowed.
While he fidgeted, trying to untangle his tongue, Bryce tipped his hat to Drake’s mom and sister as they approached. “Mrs. Owens. Elizabeth.”
“Such a lovely evening.” His mom smiled, completely oblivious to the tension filling the air. “Where’s that beautiful wife and son of yours? I wanted to say hi, but, well...”
She’d never left Dad’s side except to fill plates. Bryce was right. She needed a break. He and Elizabeth would have to figure out how to make that happen. Regularly.
“They’re probably still down by the lake trying to catch snakes,” Bryce said. “Or I should say, Elijah’s chasing snakes while his momma’s standing on the tallest rock, praying this phase of his passes quickly.”
“Good luck with that one.” His mom laughed. “Well, I suppose we should go. You ready, Elizabeth?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She flicked everyone a wave, then turned to Faith. “We’ll see you Friday?”
Drake raised his eyebrows. When had Faith and his sister gotten so chummy? And what did she mean by we? Not that it mattered. The woman would be heading back to Austin soon enough.
Except she was going nowhere right now. Her car was in the shop. Because of him.
* * *
Faith pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth to keep from saying something stupid, and accompanied Drake to the truck. So he didn’t want her here. Thought she couldn’t do the job. The cocky, small-minded... She’d just have to prove him—and everyone else in Sage Creek—wrong.
Like she’d been trying to do with her dad for the past decade, ever since she dropped out of college to pursue a career in art. That had gone over real well; the professor’s daughter hadn’t made it through her junior year.
And if Drake was right, if somehow she was here by mistake? She’d be out a good deal of money. And who knew how long it would take the town mechanic to fix her vehicle?
Which Mr. Cowboy had totaled. She should make him pay for her hotel. If the restoration team gave her the boot, that’s exactly what she’d do. She had no choice. She didn’t have the money for a random, unexpected “vacation.”
How was she supposed to get to the church and back to her hotel each day?
Eyeing Drake, she frowned. She had no intention of becoming dependent on some macho cowboy.
No matter how handsome.
Grabbing on to the handle above the door, she hoisted herself into the sauna-like truck, her long skirt twisting around her legs. With a grimace, she fought to free herself from the fabric as gracefully as possible.
He engaged the engine, and hot air pelted Faith’s face. “Whew.” He angled the vents away from both of them, then shifted into Reverse. “Far’s I can tell, Mr. Johnson left an hour or so ago. He should be back at the hotel now.”
Rocks clanged against the truck’s undercarriage as he turned onto the dirt road leading back to town. “I’ll give him a call to make sure.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket, put it on speaker, then set it on the dash. “I lost my Bluetooth.”
It rang four times before anyone answered. “Hey-lo. Cedar View Inn. Where the coffee’s hot, the cable’s connected and the view’s pristine.”
“Hey, Mr. Johnson. It’s me, Drake.”
“Figured as much. You calling about that gal friend of yours?”
“Yes, sir. We’re heading your way, if that’s all right.”
“Course it is. I’ll go turn the air on in her room now.”
“She’d be mighty obliged, I’m sure.” Call over, he set his phone in his cup holder and turned onto the paved street. “What’d you think of the picnic?”
“It was nice. The food was good.”
He nodded and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “You and my sister seemed to hit it off.”
She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “She and your mom want to learn how to paint.” She gave a soft laugh. “They said they’d trade me a home-cooked meal for lessons.” It felt awkward saying that. It would probably feel awkward going, but...those dinners could save her a chunk of change. Money she’d desperately need, especially if she found herself stuck here, unemployed, with hotel fees to pay.
This would be a first, to get fired before even getting started.
And if Mr. Cowboy’s insurance didn’t come through and he decided not to honor his word, she’d be in the red.
Her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and exhaled. It was R & T Glass Supply. “Hello?”
“Faith. Sorry I missed your call.”
“No problem. Listen, I’m sort of in a bind here.” She explained her predicament and pulled a pocket notebook from her purse. On it, she’d written all the details needed to make her order. “You wouldn’t happen to have any more cobalt-blue and jade-green sheets on hand, would you?” She read the item number for each.
“Nope. But I can get some in.”
She rubbed her temple, pushing back an emerging headache. “You want to check? I’ll hold.”
“Don’t need to. I remember your order. Didn’t see the need to buy any extra.”
Great. It could take weeks to get those sheets in, time she didn’t have. “Any chance you can rush order some?”
“Sure, but it’ll be expensive.”
“How much are we talking?”
“You’d need to pay the freight fee. Five hundred bucks.”
She winced and shot Drake a glance, to find him watching her. Probably waiting to calculate how big of a check he’d need to write, considering this was all his fault. What kind of man drove sixty miles per hour on a wobbly tire?
“How soon could you get them in?”
“Don’t know. Forty-eight hours. Maybe sooner.”
“Great. Let’s do it.” She shifted the phone from her mouth. “I sure hope your insurance comes through on this.”
Drake pulled into the hotel between her trailer and a beat-up,