Hattie blushed and smiled. “Thank you.” She took a breath. “So, how did the move go?”
“Oh, it went fine.”
“You came back a little sooner than I expected.”
“Yes, with Brian’s help, we got things done quickly.”
“How did things, um, go between you two?”
Sara smiled. She thought back to the evening Brian kissed her. Just a moment of madness, really. A surreal event in her otherwise ordered adult life. She was glad to be back to the real world, a place where the sun glinted off the Formica and shone red through the hummingbird feeder outside the window. “Just fine. We got everything patched up.” She took another sip of tea.
“You mean,” Hattie sputtered, “you’re back together?”
Sara choked on her tea. “Of course not! What I mean is that we were able to tie up loose ends, so to speak.” She shrugged. “He’ll be moving soon at any rate, and I won’t have to be bothered much longer by his presence.”
Hattie’s eyebrows rose. “That’s odd. He told me a few months ago he changed his license and insurance to comply with Oregon's requirements. That sounds to me like he plans to stay.”
Sara’s smile faltered. “But I was going to make him cinnamon rolls!”
“Oh, what a nice idea, dear. I have just the recipe.” Her aunt got up from the table and went to a cupboard where she kept her recipe box.
She leaned weakly against the back of the chair as all her plans went awry. What did Brian see in Buell Creek anyway? She slapped the tabletop with her hand, making the teacups rattle. He needs to go! There was no other way around it.
Sara thought of his determination to stay in the cottage. Only the ravings of an ill man, right? She planned to move to the farmhouse, but if she did and he stayed, they’d be...neighbors!
Sara rubbed her face. Seeing him on a daily basis would be too much to bear. Imagine looking out her window and seeing him there. Seeing him grin and wink, just as he did now.
“Oh!” Sara jumped when she realized the real life version stood on the porch.
Brian waved at her through the screen door. Hattie saw him as well and went to let him in.
Sara realized her disheveled state, consisting of a wrinkled T-shirt and floral pajama bottoms. She bolted from the table and hurried into her room to change, peeved he'd caught her looking so unkempt.
Wriggling out of her sleepwear, she then donned an embroidered periwinkle sun dress. In the bathroom, she brushed her hair and scrubbed her teeth. When she came back into the kitchen several minutes later, she found Hattie and Brian sitting at the table, talking like old friends. They looked up at her entrance.
“Oh, don’t you look a picture, dear,” Hattie said.
Sara groaned inwardly at being brought to attention. Sliding onto her chair, she sipped her now-cold tea.
“I was just telling Mr. Farris how you plan to make him cinnamon rolls.”
“Hattie!” A surge of embarrassment fired her face. She shot her aunt a look of pure frustration. When she glanced at Brian, he smiled pleasantly.
“Sounds yummy.”
Sara lowered her eyes to hide her churning emotions and took a cleansing breath. When she felt she could reenter the conversation with a modicum of dignity, she cleared her throat.
Then Hattie pointed to magazines and plan books on the table. On one side lay a large portfolio.
“Look, Sara. Mr. Farris brought over some things to help you decide how to fix up the farmhouse.”
“Pardon me?” she asked, stiffening.
Brian pushed the portfolio over to her. “Just some examples of my work.”
Sara arched her brows. This was going way too fast. She considered it a little presumptuous of him to assume he’d be doing any work on the house. She still needed to digest the fact he planned to stay. Reluctantly, she opened the portfolio and feigned interest at the photos inside.
As she perused each page, Sara became impressed with the scope of Brian’s skills. The photos showed examples of his expertise in restoring old storefronts and completing tasteful remodels on older homes. Page after page detailed the fact he easily possessed the qualifications to work on her grandfather’s house.
But his presumption rankled. Sensing his gaze, Sara carefully closed the book. “Very nice.”
“Thank you.”
“Can you recommend any builders who might be willing to give me a bid?”
“Sara!” Hattie scolded.
Sara sent Brian an innocent look. His expression became shuttered. A pang of guilt forced her to lower her gaze.
Brian leaned back in his chair. “That’s all right, Hattie. It’s a free marketplace after all. I do know of a couple of good builders in this area who would be happy to give you bids.”
He extracted a business card from his jacket pocket and wrote down two names before passing it along the table to Sara. “Their numbers are in the phonebook.”
Sara knew she behaved badly, but felt so pressured. “Thank you,” she mumbled.
Brian scooted his chair away from the table and stood. “Thank you, Hattie, for the tea.” He looked down at Sara, his features devoid of expression. “I’ll leave these things here for you to use for ideas.”
Sara turned the card over and over in her fingers. She heard the screen door squeak open and snap shut.
Hattie clucked her tongue. “How could you be so rude, Sara? Isn’t it obvious that he’s the one for the job?”
“I don’t know,” she said wretchedly. “This is all happening too fast! I thought he was moving!”
“Well, I think you hurt his feelings.”
“That man doesn’t have any feelings.”
Hattie stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Brian Farris is a friend of this family and he deserves to be treated as such. I’m now convinced you’re not recovered from your trip, and I suggest that you go to your room and think about what you’ve done.”
Not sure what to say in her defense, Sara crumpled the business card in her hand. Hattie chastised her like a child because she'd acted like one. She got up from the table and trudged to her room.
***
Brian looked up from the trade magazine he held in his hands. Through the window, he saw Sara driving up in Eli’s old truck. He threw down the magazine and went to open the front door of the cottage. The sun, setting fast, washed the sky in purple and orange lights as he went out to meet her. Little dust devils scurried along the driveway in the blustery wind.
Sara climbed out of the truck and stood, looking unsure of herself. She wore faded blue jeans and a denim jacket worn over a light pink T-shirt. Tucking a straying lock of hair behind her ear, she took a few steps in his direction.
Brian watched expectantly as she approached him. After yesterday morning, he didn’t know when he’d see her again. Her visit surprised him.
“Hi,” she said quietly.
“Hi.”
Sara gazed off toward the sunset while trying to hold back the hair blowing in her face. She turned back. “I came to ask if you would consider giving me an estimate for fixing up the house.”
Brian didn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. “Were you able to get in touch with the two other guys I told you about?”
Sara stared down at the ground. “I would like you to give me a bid,” she said in a low voice.
Brian’s injured pride fled at her soft request. “Of course. Just tell me when you’d like to meet to go over what you want done.”
“Are you busy with any other jobs right now? I don’t want to take you away from another project.”
He smiled down at her. As far as he was concerned, she could take him anywhere she liked. “I just finished up a job before I got sick, so this is actually a good time.”
“Well then, would Wednesday be okay? Say nine a.m.?”
“Perfect.”
She glanced around, appearing ill at ease.
“Did Hattie put you up to this?” he asked, sudde
nly suspicious.
“No. It was my decision.”
“Well, be sure to get those other bids in addition to mine. It keeps my price competitive.”
Sara gave a hesitant smile. “See you Wednesday.”
“Until then. Goodnight, Sara.”
He stood in the driveway, watching as she climbed in the truck and drove away—and breathed a prayer of thanks.
***
Sara arrived a few minutes early at the farmhouse Wednesday morning. She went in the front door and walked through the now mostly empty rooms. Her furniture, stacked in the living room, waited to be dispersed throughout the house.
Her empty footsteps echoed on the wood floor of the dining room. Sara tried to see it as Brian might. She didn’t have a clue what it would take to bring the house to top condition, much less the cost. Eli left some money along with the house, which seemed like a lot to a working girl, but would probably go pretty quick on a renovation. The phrase money pit came to mind.
Over the last few days, Sara had prayed earnestly about this undertaking. If it wasn’t God’s will, she wanted no part of it. But based on circumstances and a peace in her heart, she now felt sure the Lord wanted her here in Buell Creek and the farmhouse somehow fit into the plan. Brian remained the only wild card. Why must he be part of the picture? Why would God allow her to work on a project with someone from such an embarrassing time in her past? It made no sense.
Sara never called those other builders, nor would she. Hattie was right. She was churlish to consider anyone else. Brian would get the job, and they’d work on the same project for weeks, maybe months.
The thought filled her with both anticipation and dread. Past experience proved she became unpredictable and muddled when with him. What would her condition be after so much time spent together? Certifiable.
A knock on the back door intruded in on her reverie. She went through the kitchen and let Brian in. He wore a sage green polo style shirt and black slacks. Her pulse leapt suddenly. Sara pasted a smile on her face. “Shall we get started?”
Brian walked with Sara through each room and talked about ideas and estimates with half his brain. The other half was intensely aware of the less cerebral side of Sara. She wore blue jeans and flat leather boots again, but with a ridiculously feminine blouse which had a loosely ruffled collar and cuffs. Her dark hair was twisted up into some kind of knot and loose tendrils framed her face. It was as if she felt torn between two different centuries, and not precisely comfortable in either one. How in the world would he work side by side with her and not touch her? The thought proved almost more than he could bear.
“Are you listening?”
“What’s that?” Brian asked with a sheepish grin.
Sara looked at him sharply. “I wanted to know what you thought about putting a bay window in here.”
They stood in the dining room and she motioned to the far wall. “It would open up a lovely view of the Cascade Mountains in the distance.”
Brian looked down at her. “Yes. A lovely view.”
“And I thought that since this would be a hotel of sorts,” she went on, obviously unaware of his gaze, “that the one upstairs bathroom could be turned into a master bath with a Jaccuzi tub as a special feature.”
Brian saw Sara beginning to have enthusiasm for the renovation, and he determined to have the winning bid. He’d make sure no other man would get to spend one-on-one time with her except himself. As she looked up at him trustingly with her new ideas, Brian suspected if he had to do the job for free, he would.
Chapter Ten
Sara spent the next few days dispersing the furniture and converting Eli’s bedroom into her own space. She found it difficult knowing how to arrange things when much of the house would soon be under construction. Of the few things she kept, one was his roll top desk, which remained in the bedroom.
Sara wanted Eli’s bedroom to be like a sanctuary amidst the coming renovation, but it soon became a project in itself. She scrubbed the wood floors and threw out the old rag rugs, planning to replace them with area rugs from her apartment.
The walls were off-white, but dingy in color, and she spent a considerable amount of time prepping them for a new paint job. After pulling all the nails and filling the holes, Sara used tri-sodium phosphate, or TSP as Brian called it, to wash the walls. From there, she laid floor tarps borrowed from Brian, to protect the floor during the painting. Next, she masked off the windows and woodwork.
Sara grabbed a burger at the town’s only drive-thru before making a trip to the hardware store to buy the paint, rollers, and brushes. When she hauled her purchases into the house an hour later, she stifled a yawn. A glance at her watch showed it was after eight in the evening. Bone tired, Sara decided to commence painting the following morning.
***
“Brian!” Sara stood just inside the bedroom door at the farmhouse the next day. She snapped her gaping mouth shut and waited for him. He left the kitchen where he was measuring for cabinets and approached her, his expression unreadable.
“What’s this all about?” Sara motioned toward the walls newly painted in the soft gray-green color she chose the day before. An earlier inspection revealed the adjoining bathroom had been freshly painted as well.
Brian put his hands in his back pockets. “I don’t know what you mean. It looks pretty good to me.”
“It looks wonderful! When did you have time to do this and…why?” Sara watched with interest as his face darkened under his tan.
“I did it after you left, and it was easy since you did all the hard prep work. Besides, you already had all the paint here.”
She eyed him. “Well, thank you, but you still haven’t said why you did it.”
“Just trying to curry favor with the homeowner and edge out the competition. And I have an unfair advantage because I have a house key.” He pulled the key out of his pocket. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you.” He held it out to her.
Sara looked down at the key, experiencing a strange exhilaration. Brian would have full access to the house—and her life.
“I have the one Hattie had. Maybe you should hold onto that one so you can get in during the project when I’m not around.”
Brian smiled and pocketed the key. “I’d like to schedule a time with you so we can go over the specs of the job. From then I should be able to have a bid for you within a week.”
“Anytime is okay with me.”
He glanced at his watch. “What about tomorrow, here at the house? The dining room table is big enough and we can spread everything out on it.”
“I’m going to church in the morning. How about in the afternoon at two?”
“Sounds good. Bring all your magazines and ideas with you.”
“Okay.” Sara watched him exit the room and sighed when alone. She looked around the now lovely room and breathed in the smell of fresh paint. What a sweet thing for Brian to do!
Before her thoughts could take a more sentimental turn, Sara bustled back to work.
At the end of the day, Brian helped her move her double-sized brass bed into the room along with the rest of her furniture. The new paint color complemented the white and rose print of her bedding and drapes. Sara arranged her ferns and other plants around the room, and hung up framed watercolor botanicals on the walls. When she put up lace sheers, she noticed again one of the larger windows looked out directly towards the cottage. Okay, then.
Once the bedroom move-in was completed, her thoughts returned to the enormity of this new undertaking. And she didn’t mean the actual construction. Sara remained amazed she agreed to it in the first place. But she couldn’t deny the peace in her heart over the decision. Hopefully, peace regarding Brian was on its way as well.
***
Sunday morning dawned bright and clear as it often did east of the Cascades. Sara fought down butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Due to her illness and the move, she hadn’t been able to attend church with her aunt, and looked forward
to getting back into regular fellowship. She also admitted excitement at the thought of seeing Brian following the service.
Sara donned a pewter silk blouse and narrow black skirt. Twisting her cuff into place, she wondered at her feeling of anticipation. Was it because it was a business arrangement? Maybe a professional relationship was the perfect solution to her dilemma regarding Brian Farris. That way there would be little risk of exposing herself to...unplanned intimacy.
She swallowed hard. It has to be enough.
Sara glanced in the mirror, gave her skirt a tweak, and joined Hattie out at the car.
Buell Creek Community Church, originally built in eighteen ninety-nine, had a spot on the National Register for Historic Places. It boasted clapboard siding outside and hand-carved oak pews inside, well worn from generations of parishioners and their wiggling children. The simple stained glass windows and rather stark interior appealed to Sara’s sense of aesthetics.
They sang several hymns to the accompaniment of an upright piano in the corner, then the deacons passed the offering plate. The pastor, a man in his forties, announced a special presentation in lieu of a sermon that morning. The youth group would perform a skit for the congregation based on the Biblical story of Esther.
Sara heard scuffling in the back of the church as the teens made ready for an entrance, and everyone turned around to watch. When she turn to look, she saw Brian sitting a few rows behind her.
Sara let out a squeak of alarm, which caused a few heads to turn in her direction. Apparently Brian didn’t notice, as his attention remained on the costumed teens.
She leaned close to her aunt. “What’s Brian doing here?” she hissed.
Hattie gave her a quizzical look. “He’s been coming here for several months now. This is where he goes to church.”
Restorations (Book One Oregon In Love) Page 8