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Authors: Allie Pleiter

BOOK: Bluegrass Courtship
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Chapter Nine

I
t was exactly how Drew imagined it. A homey diner with red-and-white checkered tablecloths and white stoneware mugs that were filled with coffee the minute you walked in the door. Laminated single-page menus with the special of the day written on a chalkboard up by the grill. A linoleum floor, and red vinyl stools lined up along the counter. The classic American diner.

A big, boisterous woman with hair piled high on top of her head called out to Janet as she walked in the door, then made a total fuss over Drew as he came in behind her. “Look here, it's our TV star!” she said, rushing to smooth out the tablecloth at what Drew was sure she considered her best booth. “I was hoping you'd come in here sooner or later.”

“Well,” said Drew as he extended a hand, “I had about a dozen people tell me I couldn't leave Middleburg without tasting Deacon's pie. If anything tastes as good as it smells in here, I'm not going to be disappointed.”

“This is Gina Deacon,” Janet said as she slid in opposite Drew. “All the good pies are her doing.”

“I'm tickled to see you in here today, you know,” Gina said as she filled Drew's and Janet's cups with great-smelling coffee, “'Cuz I been working on a special project in honor of your visit. I been fiddling around with a local specialty, adding some of those cookies you like so much. I call it Milk and Cookies Pie. Got the first one in back right now. Made with a heaping batch of Delicious Dave's and a whole bunch of other good stuff.” She flushed and put her hand to her chest. “I'd be honored if you'd give it a taste.”

People often gave Drew things, little trinkets, souvenirs and such, but the gifts that were creations—fruits of thoughtfulness and labor—won his heart most of all. Companies gave him things, he had a box of plaques and awards somewhere in the back of the bus, but it was kids' drawings and a handmade
Missionnovation
knit scarf that decorated his desk. He smiled. “I'd be a fool to turn down an opportunity like that.”

Gina strutted off to the kitchen to unveil Milk and Cookies Pie. This kind of stuff just never got old for him. People—all individual, unique people—were still the most amazing things God ever created.

He poured a dollop of creamer into his coffee. Actual cream in a little ceramic pitcher, not that semi-liquid non-dairy stuff that came sealed in little plastic cups. When was the last time he'd not had to take his coffee creamer out of the package before he used it? “I've been thinking about the preschool garden. We're onto something with the rain barrels and the little gardening station. I want to turn it into a mini ecology center. Get kids to realize part of seeing God in the world is seeing God in nature.”

Janet took her coffee black. He could have guessed that. “I can't see how anyone would argue with that.”

“I noticed this great birdhouse in the churchyard—a little replica of the church. Beautifully handcrafted. Do you know who made it? I want to set up a whole neighborhood of those birdhouses to use in the garden. Can't you just see it? Little birdhouses that look like places in Middleburg? We could even have a Bishop Hardware birdhouse. It would help the kids understand that animals are a part of God's world just as much as they are.”

Drew has suspected Janet might find the concept a little too artsy, but since it'd support a local artisan, he thought she'd go for it. Now he wasn't sure—she got the most bizarre look on her face, as if she found the subject of birdhouses embarrassing.

“Don't you have people on your team who could build those kinds of things?” she asked.

“Not like that. I looked at it closely. That thing was really well done.”

Gina came back with two slices of the gooiest, creamiest-looking concoction he'd ever seen. She must have caught the tail end of their conversation, because she smiled at him as she set the plates down on the table. “Janet's church birdhouse is adorable, isn't it? I've been thinking about asking her to make up a pair of tiny cottages for my niece's baby shower—she's having twins. You know, one pink and one blue—wouldn't that be sweet?”

Now Drew knew what that funny expression was all about. That odd look was Janet Bishop blushing. Even as she stared down at her pie, he could see her face taking on a decidedly pink glow. She wasn't the kind of woman who wore lots of makeup, so he hadn't noticed until she lowered her eyes like that how incredibly long her lashes were.
Wow,
he thought, if the show's makeup artist got
a hold of those eyes, they'd knock a guy clear across the room.

“You made that birdhouse, didn't you? You're talented. You've been holding out on me. There's an artist hiding inside all that practicality.” He ducked his head until he caught her gaze. “It's an amazing birdhouse. Even you have to know it's amazing.” She looked up at him, and her embarrassment tugged something out of him.

“That one was a special case.” Her voice had a completely different tone to it.

“So you do have more? Made?”

It seemed like a simple enough question, but it seemed to unnerve her. “A few. It's a hobby, sort of. I sell them at the shop sometimes.”

On second thought, Drew mused, those eyes were pretty amazing all on their own. “Will you let us buy everything you've got? Maybe make a few more?”

“Oh.” She rolled her eyes. “I don't know.”

“She's a talent, our Janet,” Gina affirmed, grinning.

“She's right, Janet. It's a gift, not something you hide behind.” Janet blushed more, fiddled with her fork. “We won't even show them on camera, if that's what's bothering you. But can't you see how perfect they'd be?” He caught himself applying the charming pressure he wielded so well, and told himself to back off. Janet Bishop was not a button to be pushed. “Just think it over. I really like the birdhouse I've seen, and I'm sure I'll like your other ones. They'd be great. But it's up to you.”

Janet managed a slight nod and Drew felt better. “Gina sure does know how to indulge,” Janet changed the subject as she surveyed the chocolate-cookie-creamy-peanuty-caramel pie before them. They took bites at the same time,
both falling into moans of satisfaction. It was as if Gina Deacon had taken every great dessert in the world and mixed them all together in gooey perfection.

“Delicious Dave would be proud. Maybe even jealous,” Drew replied.

Gina waved him off. “Well, you're sweet to say so. Y'all just enjoy yourself.”

Drew dug in for a second heaping forkful. “Nobody needs to ask me twice.”

 

Janet sat at her workbench later that night, trying to glue a tiny shutter onto a colonial-style birdhouse. It was painted to look like a brick house, complete with a tiny chimney and a gray slate roof. Diamond-paned windows and sets of small black shutters peeked out around the oval opening in front. This one had come out especially nice. She imagined it mounted on a pole beside all her other houses in a ring around the preschool garden. It would be like an avian neighborhood, just as Drew described.

She liked the idea. The more she thought about it, the more she liked it. But it bothered her, too. Like everything Drew Downing did, it felt over-the-top. All her existing houses? She'd donated that one birdhouse to the church back when she and God were still on speaking terms. She'd enjoyed making and donating that one, mostly, she supposed, because it was her idea on her timetable. She'd had the time to get it just right and to present it when she was ready and not a minute before.

She doubted it would go that way with Drew. Downing was an “everything now” kind of guy. He'd asked for “all she had and maybe a few more,” and that felt so extreme. Asking too much.
Missionnovation
was here for a three-
week stint, and then they'd roll off toward their next spectacular feat. Not only would he take all she had, he'd probably want a dozen more new houses by Friday, and she couldn't work that way. Her birdhouses were her own private pleasure, not some new method for Drew Downing to display his creativity.

She maneuvered the tiny shutter into place and clamped it tight. Still, it had been flattering to know how much he liked them. Drew had complimented the church birdhouse before he even knew it was hers—and much more so once he did. Her last two were even better than that church one—her skills had grown a lot since then. He'd like these. The soft buzz of satisfaction humming in her chest when she thought about it wouldn't be ignored.

Janet looked up and ran her eyes along the shelves in her workroom, where the eight birdhouses sat lined up in a neat row. Some of them had been there for a while, keeping her company while she made more. She doubted he would abuse them. He wouldn't do something like ask her to make a mini green-and-white
Missionnovation
bus birdhouse…would he? No, it wouldn't be anything as deliberate as that. It would just feel as if she were contributing to the spectacle of it all—a spectacle that rubbed her the wrong way.

Then again, wasn't she contributing to it already? Bishop Hardware was supplying lumber and pipe, nails and screws—why not birdhouses? If he'd asked her to order a dozen birdhouses from one of her supply catalogues, she wouldn't have thought twice about placing the order.

But these birdhouses were personal.

And it bugged her because it was all getting personal. Drew Downing was turning into one of those aggravating people you want to hate but just can't. Was she ready to
accept the fact that the nice guy on TV—okay, the God-fearing, high-voltage nice guy—really was just that?

What seems too good to be true usually is.
Wasn't that the old saying? Did she know enough about Drew Downing—about who he was and what he believed—to trust him?

The shutter slipped out of its fastening and slid down the side of the birdhouse, leaving a trail of glue in its wake. Janet sighed and wiped off the glue. She was too distracted for this kind of detailed work this evening.

The troublesome thought was, she couldn't ever remember the last time she was too distracted to work.

Chapter Ten

“H
ow are Gil and the guys liking their brush with fame?” Janet said as she folded town council agendas with her friend, Emily, a few days later. Emily's fiancé, Gil, ran Homestretch Farm about ten miles out of town. Paroled offenders lived at the horse farm as part of a unique reform program Gil ran. A big, surly group of young men managed by a big, surly man, “the guys and Gil” had been obvious choices for some of the heavy lifting tasks during the renovation.

“The guys are starstruck,” Emily replied, leafing through a stack of bridal magazines as she and Janet babysat the town hall's jam-prone automatic folding machine. “But I think Gil doesn't know what to do with a guy like Drew Downing.”

“Don't we all wonder what to do with him?” Janet said, banging the machine with her hand when it stalled. The contraption sputtered, then settled into the task of spitting out the folded papers with a consistent thumping rhythm.

Emily caught the edge in Janet's voice, and raised an eye
brow. “Not a fan of the big green bus? I've heard you talk about that show as if you watched it a lot.”


Mom
watches that show a lot. I'm a captive audience when I'm over for dinner. Or when Mom tries some new project out on me that she saw on the show.”

Emily shot Janet a glance as she took a stack of folded agendas out of the machine's bin and placed them in a box on the counter. “Your back deck trellis is lovely. I want one.”

Which was an amusing comment, because it'd be hard to find any more places to put decorations or flowers on the gingerbread cottage where Emily lived. Janet had wondered—more than once—how she was going to add her brand of charm to the huge work-a-day house she'd live in on Homestretch Farm once she and Gil were married. Gil wasn't exactly the flowerbox and cottage garden type. Perhaps it was living proof that opposites really do attract.

“I'll send Mom over as soon as you're married. And it's not the work I object to. From what I can see
Missionnovation
does good work despite how fast they move. It's the hype. You can't go near that site without somebody pointing a camera at your face.”

“Oh, I can imagine. Gil told me they were half an hour late for dinner because he couldn't get the guys to step away from the cameras.”

Janet let loose a laugh. “The Homestretch guys? Hamming it up for cameras? Now that's entertainment. That show is turning everyone in this town upside down.” Her laugh died down. “I wonder if we'll all still be as thrilled when the circus leaves town.”

“Don't you think
Missionnovation
is on the up-and-up? They're going to use your rainwater collection idea. And you said yourself, the team's been doing solid work. Even the
hardware store is better off with all those orders. I don't see the downside in this.” She paused and pointed at Janet. “Except that we may never hear the end of it from Howard.”

Janet let the machine finish its batch and then gave it time to cool off before reloading it. She didn't want to have this conversation with Emily over the noise of that thing, anyway. “I know there're dozens of logical reasons why this could be a good thing. But I don't seem to be able to shake my gut feeling on this. If anyone else had asked to buy all my birdhouses and put them up in the church preschool, I might even be fine with it. So why is it bothering me that Drew asked?”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “You didn't tell me he asked for all of them.”

“He asked for as many as I can give him. And you know his rush-rush timetable.”

“You could do it. If you wanted to.”

Janet looked at her. “But do I want to? Pipes and drywall and stuff are one thing. My birdhouses are another. Those are personal, you know? I take a lot of time and care with those.”

“Janet, no one's ever pressured you about church before, they're not going to start pressuring you now about your birdhouses. They already have the one you made.”

Emily was another of those church people like her mother and Dinah. Janet appreciated Emily's soft touch when it came to church matters—and was one of the few people other than Dinah who knew the full story of Tony's fraud. Emily seemed to understand the scars Janet carried. She still invited Janet to church things, but was fine when Janet declined.

Bebe never gave in so easily. She'd asked Janet again to
come to the prayer meeting at the bus—resulting in another near argument when she declined. Did her mother somehow think the famous green bus would suddenly dissolve years of well-grounded resistance? As if those kinds of wounds could be erased by the right cute guy?

When had she come to think of Drew Downing as cute?

The thought must have shown on her face, for Emily responded with the worst possible question. “Janet,” she asked, “is this not about church or birdhouses? Is this about Drew Downing?”

This was why she found it hard to be around newly engaged people. They were forever pairing her up. “No.”

“You're sure?”

Janet rolled her eyes and flipped the switch to turn the machine on again. It made a whining sound she'd never heard before, but eventually wheezed into action. “The guy is a walking amusement ride—more ups and downs than a roller coaster. I'm having trouble enough just working with him.”

“Maybe there's another reason why. A more personal reason?”

“Please. Leave the hero worship to Dinah.” Janet fiddled with a knob or two until the whining stopped. “I'm sure the way to that man's heart is through Muffinnovations. Even Gina baked him a pie the other night and made us try it.”

Emily put a hand on one hip. “You took Drew Downing to Deacon's for pie?”

Janet lowered her voice to an aggravated growl. “I was
dragged
to Deacon's for pie by Drew Downing. The man's an unstoppable force.”

Emily waved a pile of papers like a fan. “So it seems.”

 

Emily got the chance to learn that for herself the next day. Janet was just finishing boxing up some hinges to take over to the site when Emily practically ran into the shop. “I'm asking you,” she said as she caught her breath, “as a friend, Janet, don't sell it to them. Don't let Downing do it.”

“Do what?”

“Don't you sell him that paint.”

“What paint, Emily?”

At which point Drew burst through the door, running as well. Janet decided Emily must be a pretty good runner to have beaten him, for it looked as if they'd raced here. “You're kidding, right?” Drew said as he stalked up the aisle toward Janet. “The church isn't
allowed
to have a green door?”

Emily squared off at Drew right in front of Janet. “No, it isn't. The church door must be blue.”

Drew scowled. “Does Howard know that? He's up there making all kinds of suggestions to my team.”

“The door's always been blue. The church is white with a blue door.” Emily said it as if it were a law of nature.

“And green is…” Drew said, looking at Janet for an explanation.

“Not blue,” Emily said before Janet could even open her mouth.

“Did I mention Emily is chairman of the Preservation Task Force?” Janet offered, trying to put a friendly tone back into this near-argument.

“Oh,” said Drew slowly, “so you're
that
Emily. Gil told me I might have a run-in with you before this was over.”

Way to put your foot in your mouth, Drew Downing, Janet thought. You've done it now, mister. You're officially beyond my help.

“He said
what?
” Emily shot back. “Just what did Gil say about a ‘run-in' with me?” She shifted her weight, and Janet thought both Gil and Drew were about to regret any further comment. Whatsoever.

“Howard was, you know, strongly suggesting some color scheme change for the church exterior. I was asking him who else might need to be in on a decision and…I met Emily here. Who evidently also has…some very strong opinions on the subject…which Howard had not mentioned.” Drew was talking in the short, carefully crafted phrases of someone who knows they are in a heap of trouble.

“And Howard, I suppose, was telling you he was the only person who needed to be consulted?” Janet offered. It was possible. Howard was the chair of the Buildings and Grounds committee, and even back when Janet sat on their committee, Howard would often make decisions without committee input.

“Well, you know Howard,” Drew explained, running his fingers through his hair. “I didn't really
think
he had the only say, but I didn't think I'd stepped on an exterior semigloss landmine, either.”

“Welcome to Middleburg,” Janet said to Drew, “where we take our status quo…”

“Our
preservation,
” Emily corrected.

“…pretty seriously,” Janet finished.

“I can see that,” Drew said. “Blue door. Very important. Duly noted. But…um…do you mind if I ask why blue?”

Janet didn't have an answer. Neither, evidently, did Emily, because the only answer she could supply was, “Because the church door has always been blue.”

“And in Middleburg,” Janet explained as congenially as possible, “that's reason enough. Drew, how about we don't
take Howard's word on matters of artistic license here? If it's okay with Emily, I'll be glad to run interference on this, looking over the plans and letting you know anything I think ought to go before any committees. I'm sure that's what Gil
meant
to say to Drew.” Janet directed that last comment at Emily, who was still fuming a bit.

After a moment, and a nudge from Janet, Emily's stance softened.

“Oh, I'm sure of it.” Drew caught on. “Must've totally misunderstood Gil. There was lots of banging around us. He did mention he was excited to be getting married and all. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you.” Emily softened further. “We're very happy.”

“Actually, Emily, I think Gil was just looking for you when I left,” Drew said. “Something about taking you to lunch, maybe? Try that Milk and Cookies Pie Gina dreamed up over at Deacon's. It's out of this world.”

“Well, I'll just head back to the site, then, and see what Gil's up to with the guys.” Emily headed back up the aisle toward the shop door. “You look over those plans, Janet, and we'll talk later.”

Drew and Janet watched her walk through the door and up the street. At which point they both exhaled loudly.

“I actually thought Howard had a good idea. Green, ecosystems, nature, you know?”

Janet shifted her weight. “Green, which also just happens to be
Missionnovation'
s signature color,
you know?

Drew balked. “I wasn't thinking of that. Really. Oh boy, I wasn't thinking at all, was I?” He shook his head. “How'd I miss that? No wonder she looked at me so suspiciously.”

“No matter what Emily thought your motives were, she'd still have objected to anything that wasn't blue.” Janet
sighed. “You were bound to start something with her no matter what you did, near as I can tell.”

“Nice save—I owe you.” He whistled through his teeth. “Man, I didn't realize I'd need a Sherpa in Kentucky.”

“A what?”

“A Sherpa. You know, those wise, knowledgeable guides who keep people from killing themselves as they try to climb Mount Everest?”

“Well, this is Middleburg. I think even highly trained professionals couldn't help but step on a few toes here. You've done pretty good so far.”

He turned to her and smiled.

“Would you really do that?” Drew asked. “Look over the plans and help me make sure Howard and Emily and anybody else doesn't get upset? The stress level's only going to go up around here as it is as we get closer to deadline. I'd like to avoid all the conflict I can.”

It was a sensible request. And she was the closest thing Drew had to an impartial advisor.

“I've got a bunch of site meetings this afternoon and an early dinner at Howard's. Can I bring them by later, like six-thirty?”

Janet hesitated. The store would be closed, which would mean he'd need to bring them by her house. She wasn't sure she was ready for that. Still, she was a twenty-eight-year-old woman. It wasn't like she needed a hall pass to have a man stop by her house for perfectly respectable reasons. She could even show him the birdhouses.

He must have sensed her hesitation, for he added, “I can only stay an hour anyway—we've got the prayer meeting at eight. We can meet somewhere else if you'd feel better about it. Or put it off until morning.”

You're being ridiculous, Janet told herself. It's an hour
to go over plans, not a romantic rendezvous. Besides, if you meet him on the bus there'll be no way you can escape staying for the prayer meeting. “Come on by. Two blocks over, one block down. 82 Anthem Lane.”

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