“But why would he come to church?”
“Because he’s a Christian, of course. What a silly question. Now hush, the presentation is about to begin.”
Sara sat stunned. Brian said he’d changed. Was this what he meant? Her heart fluttered at the notion. She chanced a peek over her shoulder and caught him looking at her. He smiled and assumed a comically pious expression. She jerked her head back around, feeling heat steal into her face.
Sara gripped her hands together in her lap and blinked several times, trying to make sense of her incoherent thoughts. Because he’s a Christian, of course. Hattie’s words went around in her brain like a litany.
In the past, Brian had occasionally accompanied her to church, but she came to assume he did it only to placate her. That probably wasn’t the case now. Maybe he was involved in some kind of spiritual search. Or maybe Hattie spoke the truth.
She next wondered if this was all part of an act—like when they dated. Sara grimaced at the direction of her thoughts. Enough was enough. For once, she decided to give Brian the benefit of the doubt. After all, she'd prayed for him to find faith while they dated and even for a time after that. And why pray if she didn’t believe it had an effect? As this new reality settled into her mind, she felt a rush of thanksgiving fill her heart. Closing her eyes, she lifted her soul to the Lord in praise.
The sound of closing Bibles and shuffling feet on the old wooden floor made her realize she missed the entire teen presentation. Hattie nudged her and together they gathered their Bibles and purses and waited to exit the pew.
Tapping her foot impatiently while the congregation filed from the church, Sara jumped into the first gap that presented itself. She caught up to Brian just as he stepped outside and put a tentative hand on his arm as Hattie headed to the car.
“Brian, why didn’t you tell me?”
Drawing her to one side to allow others to pass, he looked down at her with a hooded expression. She noticed a dull flush darken his face. After a moment, he shrugged. “I guess I wanted to live it before I said anything. I thought it would be awkward to just blurt it out.”
Sara regarded him intently. “When did this happen?”
“About two years ago.”
When I left. “How? I mean...I just wondered...” Her voice trailed away as she realized how suspicious she sounded.
He dropped his voice. “I doubt you'll believe me, but part of what attracted me to you was your faith. I really had been thinking about God before we met.”
She bit back a smile. “I guess I'll have to take your word for that.”
His eyes sparkled. “Yeah, I think I managed to derail the both of us.”
Awkward. Sara was glad they were now alone. Most everyone had exited the church.
“It sounds like a cliché,” he said, “but after you left, I realized how badly I'd treated you. And you weren't the first I treated that way. But you were the one that made me feel the worst.”
“Glad to know I could help,” she said, forcing a light note into her voice.
He smiled, then shook his head. “Seriously, you forced me to face what I'd only been toying with—how I felt about God, how God felt about me.”
Sara was suddenly filled with an emotion she couldn’t name. Before she thought through her actions, she reached out and gave him a fierce hug, then found she couldn’t let go. She squeezed her eyes shut and held him tight.
Brian stood somewhat stiffly and patted her back, but she didn’t care if he felt uncomfortable. Tears filled her eyes as she pressed her face into the collar of his coat. It was some time before she could release him.
She finally stepped back with a watery smile and smoothed down the wrinkles she’d caused on his jacket, only half-aware of the intimacy of the gesture. Brian regarded her with a bemused expression.
Slowly, she recalled she was in a public place and the object of a curious look from her aunt where she waited by the car. Sara swiped at her eyes and sniffed a few times. “I’m so happy for you, Brian,” she whispered.
“I know you were praying for me, Sara. Thank you.”
Her smile faded as a new thought occurred to her. “And now I feel guilty for how I've treated you!”
He laughed softly at the confession. “No, I knew that was from all the baggage. I didn't take it personally.”
Flustered, she shoved her hands in her pockets. “Well, I apologize. It shouldn't matter either way.”
“Does this mean that you’ll be especially nice from here on out?” he said, a mocking glint in his eyes.
She couldn't resist his expression. “Maybe.”
Hattie sighed loudly. “Have you invited him over for lunch yet?”
Sara turned to Brian. “I was, uh, supposed to ask you to lunch at Hattie's.”
“Sounds great. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.” As she turned to leave, he stopped her. “Since you're in such a conciliatory mood, any chance you'd make me some of those cinnamon rolls? For old times' sake?”
Sara bit her lip, made breathless by a rush of feelings she didn’t want to examine just yet. “Soon,” she said, and hurried after her aunt.
Chapter Eleven
Sara had little time to compose herself before Brian arrived at Hattie’s. He pulled in just as she repaired the damage to her makeup caused by her tears. With her mind in a whirl, she smoothed down her skirt and entered the kitchen just as he did. Thankfully, she had plenty to do to keep her hands busy as she helped her aunt get lunch on the table. Hattie had prepared most of the food ahead of time—fried chicken, coleslaw, melon salad, yeast rolls, and ice cold soda.
After setting the table, they all sat down. Hattie asked Brian to give thanks. He reached around the table and held out his hands. When Sara put her hand in his, she could scarcely hear his prayer over the thundering of her heart. She picked at her food while they ate and couldn’t stop staring at him. If he was aware of her scrutiny, he didn’t let on.
After lunch, Brian helped Sara with the dishes while Hattie sliced up an apple pie. When they’d finished dessert, Brian looked at his watch. “Don’t forget, we have an appointment at two.”
“Yes. Um, I’ll go change and be right back.” She went into her room, shut the door and wondered what on earth she would wear, though why it suddenly mattered, she couldn’t say. Tearing through several drawers, she finally settled on a violet shirt and new black jeans. She brushed out her hair and pulled the front back with a clip. Only at the last minute did she remember to grab her bag of magazines.
Brian stood when she entered the living room and thanked Hattie for a delicious lunch. As he led the way out to his truck, Sara reminded herself that although she was thrilled by Brian’s conversion, it made no appreciable difference in their working relationship.
Back at the farmhouse, she noticed he became all business when he pulled out his plans for the renovation. He spoke of Eli’s ideas and listened patiently when she expressed opinions on what she wanted to see implemented.
On paper, they went through every room of the house and talked about what was necessary, what would be nice, and what would actually get done. She was gratified to find many of her ideas ran along the same lines as his.
Three hours later, Sara stretched, too tired to continue. They’d hammered out the major construction details and much of the finish work. The decisions about fixtures, wall coverings, and such would come later. Since the house was built in the Arts and Crafts style, she wanted to remain as true to that theme in her decor as she could, within reason. Although she wasn’t overly familiar with the style, she intended to do some research that would help her choose the right components.
Brian leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs out under the table. He laced his fingers at the back of his head and stared at the ceiling. Sara wondered what he was thinking about. She certainly didn’t mind the opportunity to study him in such an unabashed fashion.
He had on what he’d worn to church, minus his jacket—black sla
cks and an aquamarine shirt that complemented the color of his eyes. The first few buttons of the shirt were undone, revealing the strong column of his throat. His streaked blonde hair was rather mussed from the repeated pawing he subjected it to while they worked on the plans.
Sara thought of the picture on his nightstand and wondered again if he had a girlfriend. She discounted the idea when she remembered that little episode in her apartment. She frowned. At least he better not behave that way if there was someone else! Someone, she amended. Someone else made it sound as if she considered herself in the running. And of course, nothing could be further from the truth.
Through the dining room window, Sara saw a car go by, and somewhere in the distance, a cow mooed. She chanced a glance at Brian and blushed when she found him staring at her.
He leaned forward and smiled. “I’m getting hungry. Want to go get a bite to eat?”
Actually, she was famished, having eaten so little at lunch. “I had planned to go back to my aunt’s and bring the last of my stuff over when we were done with this. Tonight will be my first night here at the house.”
“Well, considering the fact that it’s something of a miracle you finally agreed to keep the place, I think this calls for a celebration.” He grinned. “Tell you what, I’ll take you over to Hattie’s so you can pick up your things, then we’ll go and have a hamburger and shake at the drive-thru in town.”
Sara averted her eyes, thinking of the time when they sat in a drive-thru line near their college, kissing like a couple of high-school kids until they reached the pick up window. The memory left her feeling hot and prickly all over. Not trusting her voice at the moment, she nodded her assent.
They arrived back at the farmhouse a couple of hours later—a companionable but kissless interlude. Brian brought in her boxes for her and set them in the middle of the living room. Sara walked with him to the back door when he was ready to leave.
“Thanks for everything today, Brian. I really appreciate all your help.”
He regarded her steadily for a moment. “If you need anything, I’m just a few steps away.”
As if she’d forget. “Okay, thanks.”
He reached out and shook her hand. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”
Sara pressed her other hand over their joined ones, feeling a wave of emotion wash over her. “Welcome to the family.”
Brian smiled before releasing her hands, obviously understanding her reference to the family of God. As she watched him head back to the cottage, she doubted she could ever view him strictly as a brother.
***
Sara stretched after sitting at Hattie's computer for so long and decided to take a break. For the past week, she’d spent hours researching construction, how to run a bed and breakfast, and everything else she could think of to inform herself in this new venture. She printed out reams of information and endeavored to become educated in every aspect of marketing to the area.
Buell Creek and the surrounding towns tended to be smaller farming communities and had little in the way of lodgings. The new growth to the area would bring with it a demand for places for visitors to stay. Apparently her grandfather had done his homework. She was relieved the idea of a B & B wasn’t doomed from the start.
Her research on the period of the house proved the most interesting aspect of what she learned. She soon found herself lost in a world of the Arts and Crafts movement, Louis Comfort Tiffany stained glass windows, Mission furniture by Gustave Stickley, hammered copper table lamps, and richly ornamented rugs and textiles. Her excitement grew at the prospect of decorating to fit the period of the house, and as she learned of the cost to accomplish this, she wondered what kind of numbers Brian would come up with in his bid—and whether she could afford any of it.
Sara glanced at her watch and frowned. Hattie should’ve been home by now from an unscheduled shift at the hospital. Now that she thought about it, she realized her aunt was hardly home lately, except to sleep. Was there some kind of sudden boom at the hospital that required her to work more shifts?
If she discovered Hattie was working longer hours for financial reasons, she’d stop all plans for the house and help her instead. Her aunt worked too hard anyway. Or maybe it was because she needed extra money for car repairs? Making a mental note to ask about it later, she decided to go home.
Home. It felt strange she already thought of the farmhouse that way.
Sara stifled a feeling of disappointment when she arrived at the house to find Brian’s truck gone. In her busyness she'd managed to keep thoughts of him at bay, but now they returned full force. She found it difficult to reconcile her emotions regarding the change in Brian. In many ways he seemed the same, but she noticed a new gentleness of spirit that he lacked before. It was even harder to know how to view her relationship with him. He'd gone from a bitter adversary to fellow Christian.
Traces of old angst continued to plague her, jumbled with joy in his salvation. On top of it all, she found him as attractive as ever—maybe even more so. And spiritually speaking, he was no longer off-limits.
Not that it stopped me the first time.
As she climbed out of the Ford, Sara sent up a quick prayer for wisdom and guidance. She knew all too well her potential for making mistakes. Giving her head a dismissive shake, she decided to walk around the house to look at it through the lens of her new understanding of period construction. Studying the exposed rafter tails, the low wide porch with its massive supports, and the natural stone chimney, she began to catch a vision for the potential of the place.
She could now imagine how it would look restored, with riotous blooms spilling from cleverly placed urns; the sun sparkling off the clean leaded glass windows. Paths of stone flags would meander along the grounds taking visitors to lovely little garden niches, replete with rustic benches and ponds. Sara grimaced at the tussocky grass and tangle of weeds and brambles now covering much of the grounds around the house. A lot more than imagination would be required to whip this place into shape.
The sound of a vehicle turning in the driveway drew Sara back around to the front of the house. Her treacherous heart gave a little leap at the sight of Brian. She walked slowly up the drive and met him as he got out of his pickup.
“Sara,” he said with a smile. “I’m glad you’re here. I was planning to call you when I returned.”
He had his back to the final rays of the setting sun and Sara admired the way it caused his wind-ruffled hair to glow in the fading light. Even his eyelashes were tipped in gold. It took some effort to drag her mind off his appearance and listen to what he was saying.
“If now is a good time, that is.”
“Uh, good time for what?”
Brian gave her a speculative look. “I have the bid ready and wanted you to take a look at it.”
Sara schooled her expression into one of politeness, worried he might catch her ogling again. “Of course. Now is a great time.”
They walked together to the house and went in the back door. Sara flipped on the kitchen light. Nothing. The tall trees around the house blocked most of the remaining light, sinking the rooms deep in shadow. She headed to the dining room and flipped that switch, but the rooms remained dark. Gingerly, she went back into the kitchen and bumped into Brian. He put up a hand to steady her.
“Looks like a fuse has blown,” he said. “I’ll go get my flashlight.”
Sara leaned against the countertop, waiting for him to return, and wondered if electrical updates were part of his bid. Through the kitchen window she saw the beam of his flashlight bobbing along as he made his way back to the house.
“Do you know where the fuse box is?” she asked when he entered the kitchen.
“Follow me.” He led the way to the attic stairs, holding the flashlight just in front of them so they could both see where they were going.
Sara refrained from holding onto the back of his shirt to steady herself when she stumbled. Halfway up the stairs, Brian located a panel door, which o
pened to the fuse box. He pulled out two blown fuses and looked down at Sara in the weak beam of light.
“You don’t happen to know where Eli kept extra fuses, do you?”
She shook her head and ventured a guess. “Maybe he has a drawer for odds and ends in the kitchen. That’s where I’d keep them.”
“Lead the way.”
They returned to the kitchen and found a drawer, which seemed to contain everything but fuses. Sara searched further through the drawers and cupboards and found a box of a dozen emergency candles along with some matches. She lit one and propped it in a coffee cup. While Brian went through the rest of the house seeing if any other lights worked, she fashioned candle stands from old jar lids by dropping melted wax onto the lid to make the candles stick. When all twelve candles were lit, she brought two out to the dining room.
Brian discovered the lights in her bedroom worked. Sara noticed he must’ve opened the door wide to let light come out into the hallway. Very little reached the dining room. Sara brought in the remaining candles and looked up expectantly when he joined her.
“Should we go over to Hattie’s?”
He seemed to consider the suggestion. “Her table is about the same size as mine at the cottage and they’re both way too small. I really wanted to show you the drawings, too.”
Sara remembered seeing the cardboard tube he had when he’d first arrived. She glanced at the large oak farm table. “Will this be enough light?”
“I think so,” he said slowly. “Unless you’d prefer to wait until I can replace the fuses in the morning.”
She shrugged. “This is fine with me. You have everything ready and we’re here.”
Brian seemed pleased by her decision. “Then have a seat and I’ll get all my paperwork.”
While he rifled through his briefcase, Sara arranged the candles to give the most illumination. But even so, only a small pool of light shone against the dimness of the surrounding rooms. They sat at opposite sides of the table and she watched Brian slide the drawings out from the tube and spread them on the tabletop.
Restorations (Book One Oregon In Love) Page 9