The Wedding Planners of Butternut Creek (24 page)

BOOK: The Wedding Planners of Butternut Creek
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“We don’t know exactly when our friends and families can come. Maggie put the dates on the church schedule,” Adam said.

“We’re up to the challenge,” Winnie said. “Might not be quite as fancy as Blossom would like.”

“It will be lovely,” Blossom said in her honey-sweet voice. “Thank you, Preacher, for letting us know.”

With her good arm, Birdie waved him away as Winnie flipped to her calendar and Blossom smiled.

“I’ll just go back to the parsonage and get a little work done,” he said. “If you don’t need any input from me about the wedding.”

Of course they didn’t. What would the groom have to say about his own wedding? “Just show up in a nice suit and with a haircut,” Birdie said.

When Blossom began to talk about flowers, he hightailed it out.

*  *  *

After dinner Monday evening as the light was disappearing, Gabe and Hannah wandered around the area north of the high school, an open spot with downed trees, scattered limbs, and miscellaneous debris, probably the last area to be cleared.

Gabe was acting like…well, like her brother, for goodness’ sake. He’d teased her, and he was walking nearly a foot away. Didn’t touch her. Didn’t even take her hand when she tripped over a root. She guessed he allowed her to tag along because of his promise to Adam.

When they reached the middle of the damage, Gabe said, “I want to set your mind at ease. I’m not going to try to kiss you.”

Which, of course, did not set her mind at ease and only made her think about kissing him. Just like when he’d said the same thing last night. In the vanishing light, she could see a slight grin and that dimple that she found so attractive, and she knew he was laughing at her. An odd situation. Few people found her in the least bit amusing.

After nearly fifty yards, a fallen tree blocked the way. He stepped on it and dropped to the other side before he held out his hand. “I want you to know,” he said, “that I’m not attempting to seduce you. I’m giving you my hand to help you over the barrier and promise that I will not try to kiss you because my kissing you makes no logical sense. Don’t worry. I will let go of your hand as soon as you are safe on this side.”

Which made her want to throw herself at him or hit him. Of course, she did neither.

Within a few minutes, they’d reached a county road and stopped. Ahead of them lay a field with several downed trees. It looked exactly like the one they’d just crossed, although with fewer trees. Hannah wouldn’t have minded walking farther with him.

“Guess we’d better head back.” He pointed down the path next to the road that must lead to the high school, turned, and walked off.

“Wait for me,” Hannah said and ran along behind him. How had he gotten so far ahead of her? Probably because she hadn’t been paying a bit of attention. Standing behind him, she’d been so distracted by the glory of the back of his neck, which tucked right into those broad shoulders, that she hadn’t moved. And probably because his legs were at least a foot longer than hers so his stride covered a lot of ground.

In fact, she had to jog to keep up with him until they got back to the middle school. He waited for her when she arrived a few steps behind him. Before he could say anything about
not
kissing her, again, she flung the door open and strode inside ahead of him.

She did not want to hear it.

*  *  *

After a hard day of work Tuesday, a mechanic delivered Gabe’s truck to the high school.

“Let’s see how my truck runs,” he said to Hannah when he dropped by the cafeteria at six. “Go get some dinner.”

Because she knew he was about to say,
If you come, I promise not to kiss you
, she held her hand up. “Don’t,” she said with the note of warning in her voice that terrified anyone else she used it with.

He smiled. The dimple deepened, and his eyes twinkled. Darn the man.

They headed to Llano for Cooper’s Barbeque. After she’d devoured most of a huge pork chop and a cup of apple cobbler, they drove back to San Pablo. They’d chatted during dinner—not that chatting counted as one of Hannah’s strong points, but Gabe was very good at it. Left on her own, she’d ask questions and wait for answers, then debate. Gabe introduced relevant topics for discussion. Interesting style. She might work on conversation instead of interrogation. The trip back seemed much too short.

Once he’d parked, Gabe got out of his side of the truck, walked around it, and opened her door. As he reached out his hand to help her down, he said, “I just want to tell you that you don’t have to worry about…”

A red haze obscured her vision. She’d never been so incredibly angry or so extremely attracted in her life. Acting purely from frustration, she leaped down from the truck, grabbed the back of Gabe’s neck, and, not a bit gently and making no effort to avoid any of his cuts, hauled his head toward her. Then she plastered her lips on his in the most passionate kiss she’d ever given. When she could no longer breathe, she shoved him away and glared at him.

Gabe didn’t move for a long time.

Good.

Finally, he shut her door and looked at Hannah. “What was that about?” But before she could answer, he pulled her into his arms and responded with great enthusiasm.

Just before she lost all rational thought, the idea that logic was greatly overrated struck Hannah hard.

*  *  *

By Wednesday, few patients remained in the gym as hospital beds emptied and patients were sent home. By Thursday, they wouldn’t need her.

With Gabe helping transport released patients home in his truck, she didn’t see him during the day.

She missed him.

Tonight? Well, tonight would be the last night here. Time to return to reality. Time to wonder what would happen when they got back to Butternut Creek.

“Doctor, we need you at bed seven,” one of the volunteers said.

Time to take care of her patients.

After she’d checked a couple of new patients and prepared several others for the move, she sat down.

Also time to think about her future. Not, of course, that Gabe had ever indicated a future between them, although he participated enthusiastically in more kisses when they returned to San Pablo. Also and strangely, he teased her and kissed her. No one ever teased her, and not many had kissed her.

*  *  *

Gabe watched Hannah from the side of the gym as she cared for the few patients who hadn’t been dismissed or found a bed in the hospital.

He had fun with her. Her quick brain and intelligence delighted him, and she was so funny. Not that she realized that and he’d never mention it. As frustrated and embarrassed as he’d been by her question about why he wanted to kiss her, she made him laugh. She was different from any woman he’d ever met. Not a flirtatious move or a compliment about his shoulders, although he’d seen her studying them. If she liked him—and from those kisses he felt sure she did—she liked him as Gabe Borden, her brother’s friend and Hector’s coach. She behaved like herself, not really a normal person but a completely natural one and not a woman with her eye out for a rich jock. He liked that. He liked her.

*  *  *

“Preacher, I’m here to start work on the air-conditioning ducts in the fellowship hall.”

Adam looked up from his computer to see Charley Parsons—all three-hundred-plus pounds of him—standing at the door to the minister’s study. He stood and moved around the desk. “Charley, great to see you. Even though it wasn’t hot out, we tried the air-conditioning in the sanctuary the other day and it worked great. Thanks.”

“Good.” After the two men shook hands, Charley said, “Got to get going. I want to finish it before your wedding.” He moved across the outer office and toward the fellowship hall.

After the plumber left, Adam heard a ladder bumping down the hall and into the fellowship hall followed by thuds as Charley began to pull the tiles from the suspended ceiling and throw them on the floor. Involuntarily, Adam flinched every time a tile hit the floor. With all the noise, he’d never get any work done. He left his office, picked up the list of calls Maggie had left for him, and walked out of the church.

A few hours later, he’d finished up his last visit at the nursing home when his cell rang.

“Rita Mae Parsons called me on my cell,” Maggie said. “Charley didn’t come home for lunch. She expected him an hour ago. Do you know where he is?”

A tremor of dread hit Adam. “I’ll check and get back to her,” he told Maggie. After clicking off the phone, he jumped into the SUV and headed back to the church, rejoicing he had a vehicle that sped up and didn’t make suspicious grinding sounds.

He pulled into the parking lot five minutes later. When he ran through the door into the fellowship hall, he almost fell over a pile of the old ductwork and a heap of ceiling tiles. After he steadied himself, he looked around for Charley, then looked up to see two thick legs encased in overalls dangling from the ceiling. On the floor beneath them lay a collapsed ladder.

“Charley?” he shouted. “Charley, are you okay?”

“Hello, Preacher. You may have noticed I’m stuck.”

Adam swallowed a sarcastic response because Charley was such a nice guy. Instead he said, “You told me you had a little skinny guy to climb up there.”

“I did, two of them, but they both went to San Pablo to help and I wanted to get this done.”

Adam walked around under Charley to study the situation. With most of the tiles gone, he could see the rest of Charley clearly. “What’s holding you up there? Why haven’t you fallen on the floor?”

“Well, I’m pretty well jammed in here. I grabbed one of the joists when the ladder fell over so I feel pretty safe. Unless I move or my arms start to hurt.”

“Then don’t move,” Adam said.

“Not planning to for a while. I’ve got to tell you, from this view I can see this church was well built. A really strong structure.”

“Good to know,” Adam said although the construction of the building wasn’t his first concern. As he further studied Charley’s position, Adam realized the plumber lay partially on one beam and held a transecting support with both hands.

“My arms are getting sore,” Charley said.

How to get the man down? Adam couldn’t think of a way to do that alone.

“Let me call a few men. Howard’ll come up from the bank and…,” Adam began.

“No, Preacher, please don’t,” Charley exclaimed before Adam could pull out his cell. “Everyone would laugh at me. The entire town would gossip and laugh at me. Even worse, Rita Mae’d put me on a grapefruit and egg-white diet for the rest of my life. Can we work together and try to get me down first? If that doesn’t work…” The ceiling shivered with his deep sigh.

“Okay, Charley. Let me investigate this more.” He surveyed the area. “Bad news. The ladder’s broken.”

“Can you fix it?”

“Sorry, it’s beyond me. The hinge or whatever it is has pulled out from the frame. It’s all metal.”

“Yeah.” Charley sighed. “Can’t fix that. Do you have a ladder?”

“I’ll check outside in the storage shed where Hector keeps the lawn mower.”

When he didn’t find one there, Adam came in through the office door instead of straight into the fellowship hall—no use worrying Charley about the lack of a ladder yet—and into the supply closet in the hall. There he found a short but sturdy ladder. He didn’t think Charley could lower his feet to that, but they had to try. If that didn’t work, he’d go to Hoover’s Hardware and buy a longer one.

“Okay, Charley,” Adam called as he entered the fellowship hall. “The good news is I found a ladder.”

Charley didn’t speak immediately. Finally he said, “Do I want to know the bad news?”

“It’s six feet. Seems sturdy. Yours was—what?—eight or ten feet tall?”

“And reinforced all over. You know, Preacher, I’m not a lightweight.”

Adam didn’t say a word.

“Okay, see if you can wiggle me out a little.”

After placing the ladder under Charley’s legs, Adam flipped it open, steadied it, and set the supports. “I’m coming up. I’m going to grab your knees and see if I can break you loose.”

But he couldn’t. Charley had again managed to wedge himself in.

“I can’t get the right angle,” Adam explained. “I’m going to have to lift the ladder.” Not that Adam had the slightest idea how to do that. He couldn’t lift the ladder and still grab Charley.

“I’m going to have to run to Hoover’s.”

“Please don’t, Preacher. They know I’m coming here. I had coffee with Dan and some of the guys when I picked up supplies this morning. If you buy a ladder there, they’ll guess I’m in a mess again.” He paused. “And they’ll tell Rita Mae.” His voice quivered.

The two studied the situation: Charley from above and Adam from below. Then Adam pulled the ladder away from Charley’s position and climbed on it to ponder the problem. Didn’t help at all. Merely pointed out how short the ladder was.

“A table?” Charley suggested. “Put the ladder on the table?”

“The tables aren’t constructed for…” Adam couldn’t think of a nice way to say this.

“For a fat guy to land on.” After a few seconds, Charley started laughing and the ceiling shook. “I get in such predicaments when I’m around you, Adam.” Then Charley noticed that the few remaining ceiling tiles had begun to shiver as well and he stopped.

“Let me think about this, okay?” Adam climbed down the ladder and walked around the fellowship hall until inspiration came.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Charley. I’m going to break down several tables, put them flat, and stack them up. When the tables gets high enough, I’ll put the ladder on them and see if I can reach you and get you loose. Then…” Adam stopped. He figured he’d fill Charley in on the rest of the plan if he got him loose. The last option was to dismantle the entire ceiling but he doubted Charley would go for that, would probably prefer to rot away up there instead of facing Rita Mae and a life of carrots for all meals.

Adam discovered eight flattened tables, which allowed him to lift the ladder almost to Charley’s feet. He climbed up, reached forward to get a good hold, and said, “Okay, Charley, push.”

It felt as if he were attempting to tickle a trout, the old poacher’s method of fishing by finding a fish under a ledge and wrenching it out. He bet no one had tried it with a fish this big. Gently, he wiggled Charley’s legs then tugged hard. With a loud “
Ooof
” from the plumber, Adam felt him come loose.

BOOK: The Wedding Planners of Butternut Creek
5.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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