Seeking Refuge

by Alana Terry

  She rinsed and cut the strawberries, fingers flying over the familiar task. Her mind had been poring over the problems of the vandal, her house, and Grayson all morning. She was no closer to solving any of those issues than when she started, but at least her side yard looked good.

  Grayson was really the only problem she had any control over. She enjoyed his company, and he had been nothing but kind to her. And he was interested in her and her projects. Was there a catch? She didn’t tell too many people about her interests because when she did, they considered her old fashioned. She was. So what?

  But back in high school, it hadn’t been so pleasant. The few friends she had shared her hobbies with thought it was cool she could make so much stuff. Except Kayla. Even now, Cait could hear Kayla’s sneering voice calling her Laura Ingalls for the rest of their school days. Lau-ra!

  That memory floated to the surface anytime anyone asked about what she did with her free time or wanted to see the house. No one had been as mean as Kayla, but most people didn’t understand it either.

  Tossing the strawberry hulls into the pail that would go out to the compost pile, she put the bowl of sugared strawberries back into the fridge and hurried upstairs to jump in the shower. Grayson had seemed genuinely interested in her work on the house. He restored old cars, so he understood. But could there be more than that? Fear and anticipation chased each other through her chest as she quickly got ready.

  She took a final glance at the Lone Star quilt that draped over the quilt rack at the foot of her bed. Taking a deep breath, she decided that for now, hope and anticipation should win out over fear. Just as the doorbell rang.

  GRAYSON AND CAIT SAT at the island in her kitchen pulling apart citrus-marinated grilled chicken and wrapping it up with fresh salsa in soft tortillas. It was one of his favorite meals, and he was glad Cait enjoyed it too. Sitting here with her was relaxed and comfortable.

  “I’ve tried to make this before.” Cait wiped her salsa-dripped hand with a napkin. “But I can’t seem to get the marinade right. Still, like most kitchen experiments, even the mistakes are usually good to eat.”

  “Hey, I’ll be your taste tester anytime. Would beat most of my meals, I’m sure.” He piled another tortilla with chicken and salsa. “What did the Samashimas say when you talked to them?”

  Cait took a sip of her iced tea. “They weren’t too surprised. People have offered them a lot of money for their land over the years, and there have been some veiled threats. And they get the occasional ecoterrorist threat. Nothing this blatant, but Alani said they had received a couple of odd emails that they had dismissed as pranks. She was going to get them to Detective Taylor.”

  “Ecoterrorism? I hadn’t thought of that. That’s pretty much the opposite of someone who would want to develop the land.”

  She nodded. “Makoa is going to install more security cameras and hire a couple of guards to roam the property at night.” She picked up the next-to-last bite of chicken. “It was interesting how at peace they were about it. Alani said over the years they came to believe the land was God’s and they were simply the caretakers. He would protect the land or it would become whatever he chose it to be next.” A moment of silence passed. “I want faith like that.”

  He watched her thoughts tumble behind her pale gray eyes. What would it be like to have a faith strong enough to trust calmly in God’s next steps for his life? Something to ponder, anyway.

  He popped the last bite of tortilla in his mouth and began cleaning up.

  Cait hopped off her stool. “I have strawberries and cream for dessert, but I want to show you around first.” Opening the back door, she moved through a small, covered porch and out into the backyard.

  Raised beds dotted the backyard in even rows. Soft mulch crunched under his feet. Hand-lettered tags indicated what was growing, herbs and lettuces closest to the front, and spaces marked out for warmer-weather vegetables. The perimeter fence, an old decorative wire one, was dotted with perennials.

  “There’s not a lot out yet, but with California weather, there are some annuals I can grow year round. I’ll be seeding my showy annual flowers around the fence soon. At the beginning of summer, it’s in its full glory before the heat starts taking its toll.”

  They walked through the beds, and she led him through a small gate to the side yard. The freshly-turned dirt made it obvious she had been working here. She showed him the small, old garage that was only big enough to hold tools. Then they moved to the front yard, where she talked about what she had already done and what she hoped to do.

  He was in awe of how her mind worked, seeing what needed to be done and creating a plan. It was similar to how he approached reconstructing an old car.

  Avoiding the bad step, they headed up the front porch and back inside. His mind was whirling. He didn’t want to leave, and she seemed to enjoy his company. He scanned the entryway with new eyes. The sun shone through the front door, lighting up dust motes but making the old wood glow.

  A framed cross-stitch hung on the wall, cream background with red letters and a green and red vine twining around the border. Unless the lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain. Psalm 127:1. He tapped it lightly with his finger. “This is perfect for this house. Did you do it?”

  Cait stepped closer to him, filling his nose with a hint of exotic fruit. “My grandma made that. It was one of the verses we memorized together. She used to tell me that even though we use the work of our hands to make things, it’s only by the grace of God that we can accomplish anything.”

  He touched her shoulder, pulling her closer. “She sounds like a wise woman. I would have liked to have met her.”

  He felt her nod. “She was.” It came out softly.

  They stood there for a moment, not moving. He didn’t want to do anything to break the closeness that wrapped around them.

  “Grayson?” She looked up at him. “Do you think they can find me? He could have gotten the license plate off my car.”

  The moment shattered like broken glass around their feet. He pulled her into his arms, setting his chin on her head. “I don’t really know. It’s been almost a week. I’m not sure what he’d gain by tracking you down.”

  She pushed back a bit, her hands resting on his chest, her gaze meeting his. “That’s what the logical part of my brain says, but it’s good to hear someone else say it too.”

  He held her gaze a moment longer then reached for her hand. “Show me that stained-glass window in the bathroom that I couldn’t see the other night.”

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  The stairs creaked as they climbed. A bathroom with black and white tile stood at the top of the stairs.

  She had shown it to him Wednesday night when he had gotten the full house tour. The look was updated classic. Hexagonal white tiles covered the floor while white subway tile with a black tile border acted as a wainscoting half way up the walls which were painted sunny yellow. An old dresser served as the vanity. A claw-foot tub and a shower in its own tiled enclosure kept the room functional while maintaining its vintage roots.

  But sunlight streamed through a piece of framed stained glass hung in front of the window, spilling red and yellow light over the floor tiles. Magical.

  “Genius.” He leaned against the door frame. “It creates privacy, but with it being in a south-facing window, you get this beautiful effect nearly all day long.”

  She grinned. “One of those lucky breaks you hope you get a lot of when you’re remodeling.”

  They headed down the hallway. “I know what you mean. Once we were restoring a ’57 Chevy. I pulled this gross plastic off the seats and found pristine, original upholstery.”

  To the right were two bedrooms that hadn’t been touched. One had some significant water damage. The plaster had fallen off and exposed the lath behind it. The other had been painted a garish orange.

  Cait grimaced. “I can’t tell you how tempted I am to paint over that. I know there’s no point, but it’s hid
eous!”

  He laughed. “So you keep the door shut. But the woodwork is still in beautiful condition. It escaped getting painted. Think of all the stripping that saves you.”

  “Oh I know.”

  On the opposite end of the hall were two more rooms. One in the same condition as the others. The final room was clearly Cait’s. Pale blue walls with an antique bedroom set.

  “I have something else to show you that doesn’t show up at night. This is the best part.” She led him through her room to the opposite side and opened a door. “A sun porch! It looks out over the backyard and sits over the back porch.”

  A narrow, window-lined room ran the length of her bedroom. It hadn’t been finished yet, but it was clean and she had a reading chair and ottoman out there. “I bet you get a great breeze.”

  “Natural air-conditioning. It’s my favorite spot in this house. I can’t wait to get it finished so I can really enjoy it.”

  They moved back through her bedroom. At the foot of her bed was a quilt rack with a Lone Star quilt hung over it. He had noticed it the other night. “My mom has one of these in this same pattern. She bought it from an Amish store when she and her friends did a sight-seeing tour back East.” He ran his hand over the stitching. “Pretty colors.”

  Cait took a step toward him and looked up. “Thanks. I made it. My grandma helped me, but I was so proud of myself when I had finished it.”

  “When did you make it?” When would she have had time with everything else she had going on?

  “In high school.” She touched the fabric. “Grandma and I spent hours on it. I treasure that time.”

  “I can’t imagine how you found the time. I’m sure you were busy with school activities and your friends. I know I had less time to work on cars with all of that.”

  She sat on the bed and let out a sigh. “I was home alone a lot. My folks had divorced. My dad moved to Colorado, and my mom was busy working on her career and finding her next husband. So I spent a lot of time at Grandma’s. She’s really the one who raised me.”

  He frowned. “What about your friends? Football games? Clubs and activities?”

  “I didn’t do too much of that.” She picked at the floral comforter on the bed. “I brought some friends home to show them this quilt. At the time, I didn’t know it would be the last quilt Grandma and I would make together. I was so proud of how I had pieced all of this intricate geometry.”

  She touched the center of the quilt. “See how the star in the center seems to pulse because of the different diamond-shaped fabric pieces? I loved how the fabric seemed to come to life. A few of my friends thought it was cool that I could make bread, so I said I’d show them how and show them the quilt. But one girl kept goofing around and started calling me Laura Ingalls. So that was pretty much the end of my social life. I had a few friends, and that was fine.”

  He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “The quilt is amazing and so are you.”

  She stood and smiled. “Thanks for not thinking I’m weird.”

  He laughed. “Are you kidding? Hey, didn’t you promise me strawberries and cream?” He kept her hand in his as he tugged her out into the hallway and they headed downstairs to the kitchen.

  After stuffing himself with the berries—he was full but they tasted so good, he couldn’t stop eating them—he reluctantly got up to leave. He pulled Cait into a hug at the front door. “What do you think about lunch and a walk along the beach tomorrow after church?”

  “I think it’s a great idea. The water will be chilly, but the sun is out and it’ll be gorgeous.”

  “Good. I’ll pick you up for church. I have a surprise for you.”

  Chapter 6

  A light tap on the front door caused Cait to jump out of the living room chair she’d been sitting in, sipping coffee. She hadn’t heard Grayson’s car. She looked out the window. A white construction truck was parked across the street. She frowned. Who would be having work done on a Sunday? Then she saw it. A black, classic 1969 Dodge Charger parked next to the curb. That must be the surprise he was talking about.

  She hurried to the front door and pulled it open. “I didn’t realize that was you.”

  Grayson stepped inside, dark-wash jeans and an untucked, light cotton shirt fitting his athletic form nicely. He pulled her into a loose hug and kissed her forehead. “Come see my baby.” He slid his hand down to grasp hers.

  She grabbed her purse and Bible and followed him out, locking the door behind them.

  He showed her all around his car and told her what he’d done to it. “My dad thought it was a total loss, not worth fixing at all. And it probably wasn’t, for all the time and money I’ve put into it. But I’m glad I did.”

  She nodded. He had done a beautiful job with the old car. “I think many restoration projects are more about love than value.”

  He opened the door for her, and she slid in, the smell of old, hot vinyl enveloping her. The old-style gauges on the dash reminded her of her grandma’s old car. Grayson climbed in and cranked the engine. It rumbled to life, and they headed off to church.

  She cracked her window to let a little air in. “So this is your Sunday car, huh? Nice surprise.”

  He grinned. “I’m glad you like it, but it’s not the only surprise. That will have to wait until after church.”

  Now she was intrigued, but so far, her and Grayson’s brains moved on the same wavelength, so she was sure she’d like the other surprise.

  AFTER CHURCH, GRAYSON pulled into a parking spot in front of his townhome. It was too hard for a passenger to get out of the Charger when it was in the garage. Not without dinging the door on the newer Charger that sat next to it. And he wanted to show Cait his place, especially since he knew so much about hers.

  He helped her out, and they headed inside. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was his. Whining and yapping greeted them the moment the door swung open.

  Cait raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

  “Well, he’s a recent acquisition you could say.” He hurried over to the crate in the kitchen where the copper ball of fur wagged itself in circles. “This is Cam.”

  As soon as he released the latch, Cam bounded out the door, barely giving Grayson a sniff before zipping around the room at high speed, bouncing off the back of the couch, the dining room chairs, and finally trying to jump at Cait.

  She took a step back and then picked him up, laughing. “He has a lot of energy.”

  Cam tried to lick her face, and she jerked back to avoid his tongue.

  “And not a lot of manners yet.” He gave her the brief story of how he had ended up with the dog. “If I can find him a better home, I’d gladly give him up. But he’s nice once he settles down.” He opened the slider to the small, enclosed backyard and Cam ran out, alternately sniffing and watering plants.

  Grayson shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “So . . . that is surprise number two.”

  She laughed. “He is kinda cute, in a funny looking way. And he’s really friendly. I bet he will be good company for you.”

  He gave her a quick tour, though there wasn’t much to see. A kitchen, dining, and living area with a half bath made up the downstairs, and the upstairs had dual master suites. He hadn’t done a ton of decorating, but it was clean, understated, and comfortable.

  “I can picture you here,” Cait said as they came back downstairs. “Ever had a roommate in that other suite?”

  “No, but I bought it with that possibility in mind. My brother, Daniel, stayed here once for about six months. I think it was the longest six months of both our lives.”

  “Ah, so now I’m glad I’m an only child.”

  He gave her a half grin. “I thought I’d bring Cam to the beach with us.” He gathered up a leash that sat on top of the crate. “Maybe wear him out. If that’s possible.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  He whistled, and Cam came running back in, jumping up and down when he saw the leas
h. Grayson could hardly get the leash clipped to Cam’s collar, he was wiggling so much.

  In one hand, Grayson grabbed a cooler he had packed with drinks and snacks before church and with the other, wrangled Cam’s leash. He ushered everyone out the door and into the car. Cam immediately claimed Cait’s lap, and she rolled the window down a bit for him to stick his nose out.

  Grayson headed the car toward the beach. “I know a great sandwich place where we can grab lunch.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He let out a breath and glanced at Cait. While the wind tossed strands of her hair, she scratched Cam’s ears as he panted contentedly. She clearly liked the first surprise of the day. He wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the second, but she was a good sport regardless. Now he just had to find a way to spend more time with her.

  IN THE CAR HEADING home from the beach, Cait struggled to keep her eyes open. The sun warmed the car and created the perfect temperature for a nap. Her stomach was still full from the huge roast beef sandwich she had eaten. Then they had walked Cam all along the beach walk. It didn’t seem possible, but the little guy had run out of energy. He was asleep on her lap. She was almost there with him, worn out from the walking and the sun.

  But talking to Grayson would help keep her awake, and she wanted to use this time to get to know him better. “Tell me more about that big project you’re working on.”

  He explained about his clients’ needs and how he had a vision for creating a bigger project if he could get all the players together. “I’ve got a meeting set for this week, and I just need DiMarco construction to confirm that they’ll be there. They are the big fish in this pond, and I can’t pull off a project of this scale without them.”

  “I guess it’s not much of a coincidence then that they tried to buy my farmhouse as part of their subdivision.” She covered a yawn with her hand. “How did you decide to become a real estate attorney, since your passion is fixing old cars?”