Better to punch out a wall instead of banging your head against it.
Oh wait. He'd already done that. After he'd kissed Evie.
Whack.
“It's not all about you, Vale,” he muttered. “Evie isn't the kind of person who's going to hold your hand while you're strolling through the halls of Hope Community.”
Still, it had hurt when she'd backed away from him. Like she didn't want to give Moretti the wrong impression about their relationship.
“And what exactly”â
whack
â“is our relationship?”
It suddenly occurred to Jack that maybe Evie didn't want to be seen in public with him. Was that why she'd turned down his invitation to Marie's Bistro the night before?
“Should we be concerned he's talking to himself, Ryan?” Dan Moretti sauntered through the door.
“I thought he was talking to the crowbar.”
“Six of one, half dozen of the other, as Grandma Moretti used to say.”
Great. Just what Jack needed. A cop
and
a firefighter.
“Did I accidentally dial 911?” Jack patted the phone in his back pocket.
“Nah . . . We're off duty.” Ryan's gaze swept over the interior of the room and lit on Jack. “You've made quite a bit of progress.”
Dan folded his arms across his chest. “In a short amount of time.”
Why did Jack get the feeling they weren't talking about the building?
He gave the wall another whack just because it felt good.
“The wiring isn't up to code.” Dan tipped his head toward the gaping hole in the ceiling, where Jack had removed one of the light fixtures the day before.
“It will be.” He cast a meaningful look at the door.
Whichâbig surpriseâthey totally ignored.
Ryan Tate prowled the perimeter of the room, inspecting the exposed walls as he made his way over to Jack.
“Look, I know what you're going to sayâ”
The door swung open again and three more guys walked in.
Dan's dad and two of his brothers. Jack recognized them from the engagement party.
The crowbar fell to his side. “Should I be flattered that you rounded up an entire posse to run me out of town?”
“Run you out of town?” Dan picked up a hammer and tested its weight. “We're here to help.”
“Help.”
Dan grinned. “See, all you had to do was ask.”
John Moretti, a man roughly the size and shape of a skid-steer, strode up to Jack and clapped him on the back. “Put us to work, Vale. We're as good at following orders as we are at putting up
drywall.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Just keep Trent away from anything with a blade. He's a
lawyer
.”
“I heard that, Dad.” Dan's brother shrugged off his white dress shirt, revealing a T-shirt with a cartoon shark and the words TRUST ME stamped underneath it.
“What are you listening to, man?” Ryan had traced the music to the corner of the room, where Jack's iPod dangled from a rusty nail.
“Michael Brecker. One of the greatest jazz musicians of all time.”
“Can't say I've heard any jazz at all, but it isn't bad.”
Ryan strapped on Jack's tool belt.
Was nothing sacred?
“Vale.” Something nudged Jack's back. Something like the business end of a cordless drill.
Dan's brotherâWillâstood less than a foot away, spinning it on one finger the way a cowboy would spin a pistol in a cheesy Western.
“You better start assigning jobs, or we'll be forced to pick the stuff that looks like it'll be the most fun.” Will was eyeing Jack's crowbar when he said it.
Okay, then.
Jack was used to working alone or with Coop, but he put Dan and his father in charge of removing the old drywall and sent Trent and Will down to Lily's “dancing room” to peel the fake wood paneling off the walls.
For the next hour, the only accompaniment to Brecker's sax was the occasional high-pitched squeal of the circular saw and the steady thump of the hammers on percussion.
At this rate, Jack would be finished with the major stuff ahead of schedule.
Dan's father plunged his hand into the cooler Will had lugged in and pulled out two bottles of water. He cracked one open and
handed it to Jack. “Here. You look like you could use one of these.”
“Thanks.” Jack took a swig of water and let it wash away the sawdust lining his throat.
“I've lived in Banister Falls all my life, and I don't think I've ever been in this building before.”
“Evie said it was a fabric store.”
“What's it going to be?”
At the moment? Jack's only source of income. “I'm not sure. The owner wants to sell it when I'm done.”
A frown creased John's forehead. “Aren't there apartments upstairs?”
“Six.”
“You've been working on those too?”
“Off the clock.” Jack caught the water trickling down his chin with the back of his hand.
“And off your timecard?”
“I'm getting a break in the rent, so it all evens out in the end.”
“Uh-huh.” John gave him one last, long look before he walked away.
For some reason, Jack felt like he'd just passed a pop quiz of some kind.
“Yoo-hoo, Jack! Is it safe to come in?” Bert reached a hand around the door he'd propped open to coax in the fickle evening breeze and waved a white dish towel. She didn't look the least bit surprised to see the group of men milling around the room.
“Lily and I want to share the fruit of our labor.”
“Strawberry pie!” Lily followed Bert inside, a dusting of flour on her nose and a bounce in her step.
“Break time!” Ryan peeled off his safety glasses and tossed them onto the workbench. “I love fruit. Especially when it's inside a crust and topped with ice cream.”
“Then you're in luck.” Bert swept some of Jack's tools aside and set a wicker picnic basket on the counter. “Because Lily and I just happen to have some of that too.”
“What do you say, boss?” Will Moretti was eyeing up the pies. “Do we get a break?”
Boss.
Jack rolled his eyes. “Take five. There's a sink in the kitchen.”
Lily opened a smaller basket and lifted out a stack of napkins and a bouquet of plastic forks while the crew filed down the hallway to the kitchen to wash their hands.
Jack paused to drop a kiss on the top of his niece's head. “They look delicious, Lil.”
“We made one for Evie too.”
Just hearing Evie's name sent a rush of longing through Jack. “Evie had a meeting tonight. I don't think she's planning to stop over.”
“I'll see her tomorrow, though, right?”
“I'm sure you will.” Evie's affection for Lily was the one thing Jack
was
sure about.
“Can you grab that bench over there, Jack?” Bert pulled what looked like a metal garden trowel from the pocket of her housecoat and began to transfer slices of pie from the tin to paper plates. “Maybe someone wants to sit down.”
Jack dragged it closer but the men ignored it, bellying up to the counter like the Friday night regulars at Eddie's bar.
Dan, whether by accident or design, ended up standing next to Jack. Providing an opportunity to voice the question that had been plaguing Jack all evening. Hanging drywall together didn't mean that Evie's friends approved of him.
“Something on your mind, Vale?” Dan turned his fork into a blade and scraped the last of the crumbs and filling into the pool of melted ice cream on his plate.
“Wondering why you're here. When you showed up, I thought you'd be grabbing pitchforks, not hammers.”
“Number one, you're a brother in Christ.” Dan shrugged. “Brothers look out for each other.”
Not blood brothers, but a deeper bond. A bond that stretched into eternity.
For the second time in the space of a few hours, Jack felt the warmth of God's presence. He was the one used to taking care of people. His mom. Travis. Lily.
But just when Jack was feeling weak, God showed up.
Reminded Jack that he wasn't alone.
Amazing grace.
He didn't deserve it. Could never earn it.
But God always knew just when Jack needed it.
“And number two . . .” Dan paused, clearing his throat. “This morning . . . at the church. I haven't heard Evie laugh like that for a long time.”
T
hank you for agreeing to meet with us tonight.” Joanna Mason smiled at Evie. “We heard how successful the fall women's conference at Hope Community was last year, and we're thrilled you agreed to be our keynote speaker.”
“You're welcome.” Evie tried not to glance at the grandfather clock in the corner of Joanna's living room. Again. Because of an incident involving the woman's twin eleven-year-old boys, the neighbor's birdbath, and a can of spray paint, the meeting with Joanna's ministry team had gone later than planned.
“I know everyone will be inspired by your story,” Joanna continued.
Her story. Of course. But for some reason, Evie had to ask anyway.
“Which part?”
Joanna and the woman sitting next to her on the sofa exchanged a quick glance.
“You lost your husband at such a young age,” Joanna said carefully. “But you continued to trust God through the grieving process.”
Joanna's friend bobbed her head. “And look where you are now.”
A loud crash made the ceiling fan above their heads tremble.
“I knew it was too quiet.” Joanna sighed. “I think that concludes our meeting for tonight, ladies. I'll e-mail the minutes to everyone tomorrow, and I'll see you next week!”
She dashed toward the stairs.
The women chuckled as they gathered up their thingsâswapping stories about their own childrenâbut Evie didn't linger.
She checked her phone when she got into the car. A text from Cody, inviting her over for a cookout on Sunday afternoon. No missed calls.
Jack knew she had a meeting, but Evie couldn't shake the feeling his silence meant more than that. Couldn't shake the feeling she'd made a terrible mistake when she'd stepped away from him after Dan walked into the church kitchen.
She couldn't even explain why she'd done it.
The first star winked overhead as she got out of her car and collected the mail from the box at the end of the driveway. A large envelope was propped against the front door, and she bent down to pick it up.
Too quiet. Too dark.
Evie hung her purse on the wooden coat rack, a part of her still expecting to find Diva asleep on the couch when she walked into the living room.
The clock chimed seven times as she sorted through the mail. When she got to the padded envelope at the bottom of the stack, she flipped it over to look for a return address.
Nothing. No name or address at all.
Evie slid her finger underneath the seal. Tissue paper crackled as she peeled back the flap and pulled out what felt like a picture frame.
Raine had mentioned that the photographer had called, letting her and Cody know the proofs from the wedding were ready. Anticipation made Evie clumsy, and she almost dropped the whole thing on the floor in her haste to unwrap it.
It took a moment to absorb the fact that Cody and Raine weren't in the picture. Another to realize that the person in the photograph was
her
. And she was . . . flying.
Jack had taken it at Sandy Point. Captured the moment when she'd let go of the rope. She was suspended in midair. Arms lifted toward the sky. A blur of light and laughter.
Evie traced the edge of the frame, reliving the feel of the wind in her face as she ran toward the river. The ground giving way underneath her. The laughter that loosened the knot of fear. Loosened her grip on the rope.
And then surfaced to Jack's smile.
Evie pressed the photograph against her chest.
After Jack had found out he was now unemployed, he'd taken the time to print the photograph, wrap it in tissue paper, and deliver it to her front door.
Evie crossed the room to the fireplace. The photograph of Max in his turnout gear, taken his first day at Second Street Station, held a permanent spot on the end of the mantle.
At twenty-five, Max was a slightly older version of Cody. Tall and handsome, white-blond hair and a hint of mischief in his eyes. More boy than man.
She'd been drawn to his confidence. Leaned on his strength.
And when he'd died, it felt like something inside of Evie had died too.
“Look where you are now
.
”
Joanna's friend's words came back to Evie, shining a light in the darkest corner of her heart.
She was in the same place she'd been thirteen years ago when Max had died. A moment that had somehow defined her life. Defined
her
.
She wasn't Evieâshe was Max Bennett's widow.
Making Cody's dreams come true had become Evie's focus.
Encouraging women to take a step in faith while she made a safe place for herself inside the walls of Hope Community.
All this time, Evie had thought it was grief that had flash-frozen her heart. Kept her from moving forward. But it was fear.
And when she'd stepped away from Jack . . . that had been fear too.
She was afraid of the feelings Jack stirred inside of her, familiar and new all at the same time. She was afraid to let herself dream again because she and Max had had such big dreams. All those “somedays” cut short . . .
Evie slid the photograph on the mantel between the pictures of Max and Cody on his graduation day.
How had Jack known she'd always wanted to try that silly rope swing?
Because Jack knew
her.
Maybeâand this was the scary partâbetter than she knew herself.
See, she was afraid of that too.
God . . . I need Your help. I'm afraid of everything. Loving. Losing. Making mistakes. Not making them. I don't know what to let go of . . . and what to keep.