Restorations (Book One Oregon In Love) (12 page)

“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 slacks 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.