Bluegrass Courtship (6 page)

Drew looked at her. “Ballad, March, Anthem, you people do like your music-inspired street names.”

“You're on to our little secret. There's even a Lullaby Lane, but nobody can stomach the address enough to live on it.”

Drew shook his head. “Then why don't you just change the…?” He thought better of his suggestion in light of recent events. “Yeah, right, not really a change-friendly town, are we?”

Janet tucked her hands into her pockets. “Now you're catching on, Downing. Even if it's foolish, chances are we'll keep it around rather than risk something new.”

Checking his watch, Drew turned to go. “Man, you'd better go over those plans with a microscope if I'm to get out of this alive,” he called back as he headed toward the door. “Six-thirty, 82 Anthem Lane.”

D
rew didn't know what he'd expected Janet's house to look like, but it surprised him nonetheless. It was a practical little brick house, basic yet with small-town charm. She'd changed out of the overalls and into a pair of soft mauve corduroy pants and a thickly knit cream turtleneck. It changed her features—all that texture in those hues. Gave her a sensible softness, a girl-next-door femininity that caught him unawares.

She showed him to the dining room, where she'd cleared off the large table so he could spread out his plans, swatch books and color palettes he and the design team had pulled together. The table was nearly completely covered once he spread everything out.

“Jeremy's trying to stay within a botanical palette—nature-inspired colors but bright enough to engage little eyes.” He pointed to a drawing of some shelving. “We took the motif from the crown molding in the sanctuary and used it here. It'll mean custom work, but I think it'll be worth it.”

“You don't need to custom cut that. Look at the shelves
my dad built in the library. It does something like that, but we were able to use some stock molding on the straight pieces and only had to do the corner blocks as custom work.”

Drew tried to remember what he'd seen in the library. “We won't find that molding in stock anywhere. I've never seen it before.”

Janet reached for the pencil and began sketching on a blank space of the paper. “Well, not exactly, but if you take a piece like this—” she sketched out one set of angles “—and combine it with a piece like this—” she sketched out a second set “—all you have to do is cut down this one part here and they'll fit together to make ones really close to the moldings in the sanctuary.” She fiddled with the sketch again until, sure enough, the two shapes came together in something amazingly close to the custom design he'd proposed. Her solution cut their costs in half, not to mention the labor-hours needed to install the shelves. He watched her stand up, cock her head from side to side as she analyzed the drawing, then lean back over and make a tiny revision. She had long, delicate fingers, and she held her pencil with the precise grip of an artist.

“That'll work,” he said, genuinely impressed. “I mean, that'll
really
work. Half the cost and one-third the time. You know your stuff.”

She grinned at him, silently accepting the compliment before pointing to another place on the plans. “Where'd this design come from?”

“Isn't it great? I picked it up from the communion table.”

Janet shook her head. “Nope, you can't.”

Drew raised an eyebrow. “Preservation?”

“Well, I think this more qualifies as good old Southern orneriness. Old man Nichols made that table, and according
to my mama, he'll think you're copying him and pitch a fit for years to come.” She stuck her pencil behind her ear. “He has an Olympic medal in fit-pitching, so everyone knows to steer clear. It looks neat, but it's not worth the battle.”

“Rats. I liked that one.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I do, too.”

She'd paid him a compliment again. It didn't sound so foreign in her voice this time, either. Janet Bishop was coming around. Slowly, inch by inch, but some part of him liked that. It meant she was thinking things through, that he was earning her allegiance, not just charming it out of her.

By the end of the conversation, they'd actually laughed together often, their eyes holding for short bits of time. She really did have astounding eyes. The cream sweater she wore made them all the more dark and rich and mesmerizing. He found himself stopping for moments in midsentence, frozen by her eyes. He'd lost his train of thought more than once, bringing them to absurd pauses and flustered excuses. She smelled clean and flowery, like fine soap or a summer breeze. When she reached back up into her hair for the pencil and he noticed the tiny dangle earrings she wore, he'd almost knocked over his drink. She was beautiful. Not pretty—that was too flimsy a word—she was from the inside out beautiful.

“Come back to the bus with me,” he said softly. It was as if it crept out of his mouth without his permission.

Janet straightened instantly, giving him a harsh look. Every inch of the guard she'd finally let down shot back up twice as thick as before. “Said the spider to the fly,” she quoted in a bitter tone.

What? It took Drew a minute before he realized what he'd said and how she took it. He'd stuck his foot in his
mouth—again, only worse. “No! Wait, I didn't mean it that way—what's the matter with me lately? I meant come back to the
meeting
tonight.”

Her look told Drew that question didn't meet with any better reception. “Don't do that,” she snapped, actually backing away a few steps from him.

“Do what?”

“Don't make this about faith.”

The ice in her words told him just how much of a misstep he'd made. This couldn't even be qualified as resistance, this was blatant refusal. He'd struck a very raw nerve. Drew backed off to sit down on one of the chairs lined up on the side of her dining room. “But I can't make this not be about faith—at least for me. It's all about faith. You know what
Missionnovation
is all about. Your mom's been a prayer warrior for us since the day we pulled in. Dinah goes to that church. Emily and Gil go to that church. Howard and your mother and even Vern go to that church. How can you be all around this church like you are, but not in it?”

“I don't know that it's any of your business. I'm not ‘in it.' People around here have learned to respect that, I'd appreciate it if you did, too.”

“I can. I respect it.” And he did, to a point. The mystery of why Janet was surrounded by people of faith but was so resistant to faith herself was driving him crazy. It seemed too personal to ask anyone but Janet herself, but he'd hoped to be more sensitive about it than this. “I…I just mostly want to understand.” Great job, Downing, he yelled at himself. Way to stick your foot in it again. She began rolling up the drawings. He was being dismissed, and his impulsive can't-leave-it-alone nature had shot yet another opportunity in the foot by moving too fast. When would he ever learn?

“No, you don't want to understand. You want to bring me back into the fold. Redeem me. Help me get over my resistance.”

It stung him that she'd used the very word in his thoughts. Had he been that transparent?

“How many times do you think I hear lines like that? With my mom pushing that agenda on me daily, you think I can't see it coming a mile off?” She handed him the rolled up drawings and began piling up the swatch books. “You think I wasn't just waiting for it? Congratulations, Drew, you actually took longer than most people. I suppose I should give you credit for that.”

“No, Janet, don't. It's not like that. I'm not trying to…” She glared at him, those brown eyes burning, and he knew that was a lie. “Okay, I'm always trying to…but…” He'd botched this, and he knew it. She looked colder than ever, all the softness and texture swallowed by icy defensiveness. He picked up the swatch books off the table. “Nobody wants Jesus stuffed down their throats. But believe me, that wasn't what I meant to do. It was impulse. I'm sorry I offended you. Don't blame God for my stupid behavior.” Drew didn't even look up. “I'm going. Good night. I'm sorry.” Muttering recriminations to himself, he piled his arms full of everything he'd brought and pushed out the door as fast as he could.

He was a fool. An impatient, insensitive, egotistical clod.

 

Janet stared at her closed door, fuming. She was mad for eleven different reasons, half of which didn't make sense. She knew better than to think faith wouldn't come up in this. She'd known from before he parked in front of her hardware store that he was all about the God thing. No one was forcing her to be involved beyond filling supply orders. No one was
even forcing her to be the job supplier, for that matter (except maybe her balance sheet, but that was hardly God's territory). Downing was as nonstop God as her mother…as Tony. She'd known that all along. She'd already seen that Drew's job and life and faith were inseparable—this shouldn't have surprised her.

He'd been abrupt, but when wasn't he? He'd been bold, but he was bold about everything. And why had she jumped to the conclusion she did when he asked? Why had she assumed he was hitting on her?

The answer made her more prickly than before: because she liked him. She found him attractive in a way that seemed dangerous and unattainable. Irrational, even. He was the opposite of her practicality—a wild, ignore-the-odds loose cannon of a guy who believed he couldn't out-dare God. Tony had been like that, and it still looked enthralling to her—to live on the edge of faith like that. It wasn't something she could ever attain now, though. She couldn't make those kinds of leaps of faith anymore.

Why couldn't Drew Downing have been a different kind of thrill seeker? A race car driver or a test pilot? Why wouldn't God leave her alone like she asked?

D
rew stomped into the bus, threw his designs down onto the desk and yanked open the fridge to grab a bottle of water. He didn't open the bottle, but paced across the bus floor, fighting the urge to sock himself between the eyes.

“Whoa, buddy.” Kevin came out from the back bunks, looking barely awake. “Take it down a notch or you'll break the bus.” He ran his hands through his hair and looked at Drew. “What's going on?”

“Me. I'm going on. I'm saying stupid things and insulting people.” Drew began to tear at the
Missionnovation
label, shredding it off the bottle in tiny frustrated pieces. “I'm an impulsive idiot, Cooper. I can't keep up.”

Kevin yawned and leaned against the cabinets. “Well, what do you know? Mr. Unstoppable found the end of his rope. Welcome to the world of mere mortals. It only took you three seasons to get here.”

“Way to encourage, Kevin. Who knew you had a gift for it?”

Kevin sat down. “No, really. The trouble is you're so busy
vaulting over walls you forget what it feels like to hit up against one. You hit a snag—okay, maybe a big snag. It doesn't mean
Missionnovation'
s coming down around your ankles.” He reached back behind him toward the coffeemaker. “Grab the plans and we'll see what we can work out.”

“This isn't a plan snag. It's a people snag.”

“Okay, this town's a bit of a handful, and I heard all about the door business, but this isn't anything you haven't dealt with before.”

Drew let his head fall into his hands. “It's a
person
snag. Singular.”

Kevin only grunted as he plucked a mug off the back wall and filled it with coffee.

Might as well out with it. “Female.”

“Oh.” Kevin drew out the word. “Well, what do you know? You and Annie finally…”

Drew shot upright. “Annie? What are you talking about?”

“Hey, I always just figured it was a matter of time before you and Annie…you know.”

Drew blinked and looked at his friend. “Annie? Me and Annie? Are you crazy? Work ethics aside, she's like my kid sister, Cooper. That's just…”

Kevin shook his head. “No, man, she's
not.
”

There was just way too much subtext in Kevin's voice to even contemplate the details. “Cooper…”

Kevin held up his hands in defense. “Hey, I'm just saying behind those glasses…”

“Man, when you jump to conclusions, you really jump to conclusions.” He looked at Kevin again, completely stunned.
“Annie?”

“Okay, so it's not Annie. Pretty clear on that. So if it's not Annie, who is it?”

All of a sudden Drew wasn't sure he wanted to say anything. “Look, forget it. I'll work it out.”

Kevin came over and sat on the couch beside Drew. “You came in here stomping mad. You don't normally get like that. If something really got to you, let me help. I'm brilliant, remember?”

Now didn't seem like the best time for true confessions. Drew just eyed his friend. He was still reeling from being linked up with Annie. “Your humility is underwhelming.”

“C'mon, Drew, who's getting to you?”

Drew pressed his fingers to his temples. Suddenly he felt exhausted. “Janet Bishop.”

That was obviously not the answer Kevin was expecting. “Bishop? The hardware lady?”

Drew nodded. It had made him crazy the whole walk back to the bus—it seemed even worse to admit it out loud. “The hardware lady.”

“Buddy.” Kevin shook his head slowly. “That's a bad idea. On all levels.”

“I know.”

“This is work, Drew. Getting involved would only hurt you and a load of other people.”

“I
know.
”

“Even if it weren't work, she's got a wall five miles high and two miles thick.”

“Tell me about it. I just hit that wall head-on about an hour ago.”

Kevin gave a low whistle before taking another swig of coffee. “And you know, Drew, maybe that's the trouble right there. You're the kind of guy who gets way too much fun out of tearing down walls. Don't do it. Nothing good can come out of it. It'll only mess things up. Bad.”

Drew glared at Kevin. “Don't you think I know that? On—as you put it—‘all levels'?” He fell back against the couch cushions. “What do I do?”

“Pray hard and do your job,” Kevin said, refilling his coffee cup. “Pray for the focus to do the job you were sent to do. A few weeks and you'll be out of here, with Middleburg burg behind you and the season wrapped up and done. You're tired. You picked a big project, you wanted to go out with a bang, and the workload's just getting to you.”

“Yeah, sure,” Drew said with his eyes closed, the words sounding as hollow as they felt. “I'm just confused, and I guess I've been letting the workload put the squeeze on my prayer time. I've been making mistakes this week I never usually make.”

“You've been running full tilt for five months. It caught up with you, that's all. Look, I know there were days when it was just you and Charlie and a whole lot of energy. You've done amazing things. God's done amazing things through you. And, man, we're all thrilled to be part of this. So hang on, buddy, we've got your back. You don't have to hold this up all by your lonesome. Just refocus and get some of that prayer time back, and you'll be okay. We'll be okay.”

“You're right.” Drew actually yawned.

Kevin pulled one of the travel mugs out of the cabinet and dumped his coffee into it. “Tell you what—it's almost an hour until the prayer meeting. I'll clear out of here and go help Annie with the flyers outside. You put your feet up. Catch a chat with the Guy Upstairs. Then take a nap. I'll come back and wake you before the meeting.” With that, Kevin pushed on Drew's shoulders until he slumped down on the couch. “Welcome to the human race, Mr. Hardware Hero. We all gotta crack sometime. But it'll be fine.”

 

Drew looked out the bus windows at the dawn coming up over the mountains. Sunrises were a lush, misty spectacle in this part of the country. The sun cast a stunning palate of colors as it eased its way over the rolling hills. A dozen different tones of orange and yellow, an array of silver fog and green shadow that melted as the day invaded over the treetops. You could paint the thing a million times and still not capture the quiet marvel of it all. How easy it was to see God the Creator in all the natural beauty here.

Last night's prayer meeting had been great. Solid and inspiring—drawing a larger crowd each night. To Drew, however, his participation still felt hollow. Rote. He couldn't shake the notion that he'd added nothing—that they could have done the meeting without him.

Maybe God was trying to tell him something.

He looked at Charlie's fax and thought maybe it was his place to fly out of here and attend that meeting. Perhaps Charlie was right—he didn't need to be as hands-on as he had in the previous seasons. He'd found great people and formed them into an incredible team. What if God really was calling him to be running out ahead of that team, being the visionary, clearing the way for the others instead of working beside them? What if it really was his own ego—not his integrity—holding him to the job site? The illusion of his indispensability?

Maybe he should leave. It surely couldn't hurt to clear his head and get out of Middleburg for a day. Twenty-four hours made it a good test for the team to take the reins. To strengthen their skills and sense of teamwork for the seasons ahead.

He picked up a Muffinnovation and peeled off the paper
before downing it as breakfast. He ought to take an order of these to the meeting as a treat. A little down-home goodie for all those slick producer types.

Charlie was right. If Hollywood wouldn't come to Kentucky, then he'd bring Kentucky to Hollywood—
Missionnovation
style. He licked the green glaze off his fingers before punching Charlie's speed dial into his cell phone.

 

“But you
never
leave a site.” Annie stared at him, more surprised than the rest of the team even though she'd been the one to hand Drew the fax earlier in the week. “In three seasons I've never seen you leave a site—not once. I thought it was a rule of yours.”

“It was,” Drew explained as he met with the team that afternoon to outline his upcoming schedule. “And it was a good policy then. But I've got you guys now, and I trust you with anything. This meeting could be taking us to a new level of sponsorship next season. I've prayed about this and I think God's calling me to take on some new roles. Meetings and stuff. Charlie's worked wonders out there on the coast and it's time for me to step in and secure
Missionnovation
's future.”

“I know I said we had your back, but
now?
” Kevin narrowed his eyes. “It can't wait two weeks until we're done here? I mean, we're not that big a deal that it can't wait two weeks.”

Drew shrugged his shoulders. “Charlie says now. I trust Charlie to know his job as much as I trust you guys to know yours. He said now because now is when it has to be. You know these network types—they think the whole world revolves around them and they're used to getting what they want. So, I've got to humor them, and if it works out, we'll
have twice the budget and twice the outreach we've had before.”

Annie looked skeptical, drumming her fingers against her coffee mug. “Humoring? This isn't your style, Drew.”

“I admit I wasn't a fan of the idea. And I know Charlie's tried a dozen alternatives. But this is what we've got to work with. I think maybe God's telling me it's time I was less hands-on.”

“You don't know how to do ‘less hands-on.'” Mike hardly ever said anything, so this qualified as an outburst from him.

“Oh, this is out of the box for me, no doubt about it. Don't think I'm not walking in faith on this one. But God's called us to new territory before, and He hasn't let us down yet.” Drew looked around the bus, catching each team member's eyes. “I've thought long and hard about this. It's not that big a deal—we're getting bogged down in the principle and forgetting the logistics. It's only twenty-four hours. God's big enough to hold us up for one measly Tuesday. Possibly one very beneficial, very future-expanding Tuesday.”

“Well,” said Annie, blowing out a breath and opening her notebook to what Drew guessed was next Tuesday's production schedule, “I suppose you may have a point. It is only one day.”

Annie's approval was enough to get the rest of the team on board—and Drew knew that would be the case. Annie knew how everything worked together to make
Missionnovation
happen. Kevin might have sensed a warm, mutual respect between them, but he was pretty sure it didn't extend beyond the professional. Kevin's remark still baffled him. He needed Annie, but not in the way Kevin thought. If Annie decided they could survive without Drew on-site, everyone else would follow her lead.

He was far less clear about the subject of Janet Bishop, however. The only thing he knew for sure was that he had to set things right with her before he took one step out of Middleburg.