the throng to join them.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” he told them.
“Where’s Callie?” Barbara put in eagerly. “Has she had a chance to come up with a design yet?”
“Barbara, be patient. It’s the weekend,” Warren admonished.
“She’s here. Let’s find a seat, and I’ll get her.” He led the way through the church and found a pew about halfway back. Lucille was already seated. The young woman she and Callie had been talking to was in the pew as well.
“Nicky, there you are,” Lucille said. “I was just talking to Callie about you. She said she had a wonderful time. I knew the two of you would suit.”
Nick’s ears grew hot. “I enjoyed it too,” he said lamely. “Um, Lucille, I’d like you to meet Warren and Barbara Miller. Callie and I are working on a house for them.”
Lucille shook hands with them and insisted they all sit with her. “Callie will be right back,” she told them. “She went to watch for these folks at the door. She hoped you’d come,” she told Barbara in a confiding whisper that carried three pews away.
Nick helped them get seated then made his way back to the door to find Callie. She stood alone watching the entry. He was touched by the hope on her face as each new arrival came through the door.
“They’re already here,” he whispered into her ear.
She jumped then turned to face him. “You startled me. I didn’t see you come in.”
“Oh, were you watching for me? I thought you were looking for the Millers.”
Delicate color blossomed on her cheeks, and she glanced away. She had been looking for him, Nick realized with a stab of exultation. Maybe he was having the same effect on her as she was having on him.
Her red hair was up in its customary place at the back of her head in that sedate roll. Nick itched to take it loose from its prison, and he had to suppress a grin at the thought. She’d likely wallop him with that suitcase she called a purse. Her emerald green suit fitted her as though it had been custom made for her, and he supposed it might have been.
One of these days he was going to get her to shed that fake persona for good. Yesterday she’d seemed so much more free and happy in her worn jeans with her hair stuffed into that old cowboy hat. He had yet to see her hair down, and it was taking on the proportions of a quest to see it on her shoulders. He’d have to think of what he could try next.
Her husky voice interrupted his thoughts. “Where are they?”
“With your grandmother and another young woman.”
“That would be Mel. She’ll be Gram’s next project—you wait and see. Gram won’t be content until she has us all hitched.” Her voice was gloomy. “Her success with my cousin Chelsea went to her head.”
“I’m not complaining,” Nick said. “At least I have a friend in Heaven now.” He clasped her hand and was gratified when her fingers curled around his.
“Unless we’re enemies by the time this is all over.”
“Whoa, you sure woke up on the wrong side of the bed! What’s wrong this morning?”
Callie shrugged. “I don’t see how we’re going to make this project work.”
“You sound downright despondent. We’ll figure it out.” Seeing her resignation, he felt a new surge of optimism. Maybe she would bend more than he had thought she would. They might find a way to fix this yet.
“You want to take the Millers out for lunch with me?”
“I wish I could, but I already promised Gram I’d come for lunch,” she said.
The strength of his disappointment surprised him. He’d been counting on spending time with her today. “When do you want to get together and discuss the plans again?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t have anything new to say. I need to study your plans some more.”
“How about next weekend? We’ll both have a week to come up with some compromises.”
“All right. When?”
“Friday night. And Saturday you get to pick what we do for the day.”
Her eyes widened.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” he told them.
“Where’s Callie?” Barbara put in eagerly. “Has she had a chance to come up with a design yet?”
“Barbara, be patient. It’s the weekend,” Warren admonished.
“She’s here. Let’s find a seat, and I’ll get her.” He led the way through the church and found a pew about halfway back. Lucille was already seated. The young woman she and Callie had been talking to was in the pew as well.
“Nicky, there you are,” Lucille said. “I was just talking to Callie about you. She said she had a wonderful time. I knew the two of you would suit.”
Nick’s ears grew hot. “I enjoyed it too,” he said lamely. “Um, Lucille, I’d like you to meet Warren and Barbara Miller. Callie and I are working on a house for them.”
Lucille shook hands with them and insisted they all sit with her. “Callie will be right back,” she told them. “She went to watch for these folks at the door. She hoped you’d come,” she told Barbara in a confiding whisper that carried three pews away.
Nick helped them get seated then made his way back to the door to find Callie. She stood alone watching the entry. He was touched by the hope on her face as each new arrival came through the door.
“They’re already here,” he whispered into her ear.
She jumped then turned to face him. “You startled me. I didn’t see you come in.”
“Oh, were you watching for me? I thought you were looking for the Millers.”
Delicate color blossomed on her cheeks, and she glanced away. She had been looking for him, Nick realized with a stab of exultation. Maybe he was having the same effect on her as she was having on him.
Her red hair was up in its customary place at the back of her head in that sedate roll. Nick itched to take it loose from its prison, and he had to suppress a grin at the thought. She’d likely wallop him with that suitcase she called a purse. Her emerald green suit fitted her as though it had been custom made for her, and he supposed it might have been.
One of these days he was going to get her to shed that fake persona for good. Yesterday she’d seemed so much more free and happy in her worn jeans with her hair stuffed into that old cowboy hat. He had yet to see her hair down, and it was taking on the proportions of a quest to see it on her shoulders. He’d have to think of what he could try next.
Her husky voice interrupted his thoughts. “Where are they?”
“With your grandmother and another young woman.”
“That would be Mel. She’ll be Gram’s next project—you wait and see. Gram won’t be content until she has us all hitched.” Her voice was gloomy. “Her success with my cousin Chelsea went to her head.”
“I’m not complaining,” Nick said. “At least I have a friend in Heaven now.” He clasped her hand and was gratified when her fingers curled around his.
“Unless we’re enemies by the time this is all over.”
“Whoa, you sure woke up on the wrong side of the bed! What’s wrong this morning?”
Callie shrugged. “I don’t see how we’re going to make this project work.”
“You sound downright despondent. We’ll figure it out.” Seeing her resignation, he felt a new surge of optimism. Maybe she would bend more than he had thought she would. They might find a way to fix this yet.
“You want to take the Millers out for lunch with me?”
“I wish I could, but I already promised Gram I’d come for lunch,” she said.
The strength of his disappointment surprised him. He’d been counting on spending time with her today. “When do you want to get together and discuss the plans again?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t have anything new to say. I need to study your plans some more.”
“How about next weekend? We’ll both have a week to come up with some compromises.”
“All right. When?”
“Friday night. And Saturday you get to pick what we do for the day.”
Her eyes widened.
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