her own. Pulling out his wallet, he withdrew his business card and handed it to her. “Since you don’t know me from Adam, here’s my card to prove I have a little bit of experience with these sorts of things.” He wanted her to trust him. Why it mattered so much he had no idea, but it did.
She took the offered card, her gaze drifting over it. “As I’ve already said, hiring on a professional isn’t in the budget. But with the good Lord’s help we’ll figure it out.”
He fought the urge to frown. The good Lord might be watching over them, but home renovations were not something he’d be seeing to. And even with God’s guidance Audra Marshall would not be able to do this on her own. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to repair the back door.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she said without hesitation. “Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.”
Stubborn. Determined. Prideful female. Carter mentally ticked off a list of appropriate descriptions for Audra Marshall while he came to terms with her refusal of his offer. But it was her house. Her door. Her decision to make. So he grudgingly explained what she would have to do to fix the door. At least temporarily. “If there’s anything else I can do to help,” he told her, “just give me a ring. My cell phone number’s on the bottom of the card.”
She glanced down at the light gray business card she still clutched in her hand and then back up at him. “Thank you, but I’m sure it won’t be necessary.” She held out her hand, intending to give the card back to him.
“Keep it,” he insisted and then added with a tempered smile, “Just in case.”
He waited, fully expecting her to refuse him again. Instead, she nodded, setting the card on the kitchen counter beside her.
Odd how such a small victory had him feeling like he’d won the Super Bowl. “Reckon I oughta go get that Frisbee down so you and the little ones can get back to settling in.”
“I suppose so,” she said, her gaze taking in the room. “We have a bit of cleaning to do to make the bedrooms sleep-ready.” She started from the room, limping slightly as she went.
“Your calf okay?” he asked as he followed.
“Starting to feel a little tender.”
“Try not to baby it,” he said. “I know it’s uncomfortable to walk on, but you have to keep that calf muscle stretched out.”
“I think you went into the wrong line of work, Mr. Cooper,” she said, flashing a smile back at him over her shoulder. “You really should have been a doctor.”
“I was a volunteer firefighter for a couple of years after I graduated from high school, during which time I received training in first aid, but my true calling is construction.”
“I have to wonder,” she said with a smile.
He let out a husky laugh. “Trust me. These hands are far better off hammering nails than tending to patients. I’m blue collar through and through.” Reaching past her, he opened the screen door, holding it until she was safely out on the porch. Then he stepped out behind her.
“But you own your company,” she replied. “Wouldn’t that make you more white collar?”
“Not for a second,” he answered honestly. “I work right alongside my crew doing any type of physical labor the job calls for. The work can be hard. It can be dirty. And, on occasion, dangerous.”
“I—”
“Here you go,” Lily hollered as she raced up onto the porch, ending any further discussion about his chosen occupation. Smiling, she held out the bottle of water she and her brother had gone to retrieve for him.
“Thanks.”
“Mommy,” Mason said, following right behind. His mouth was drawn down into a worried frown. “The cooler is leaking.”
She sighed tiredly. “The plug must have come loose again.”
“While you see to the cooler,” Carter said, “I’ll go grab a more reliable ladder from my truck and get that Frisbee down.”
“You might as well leave it up there,” Lily told him.
He glanced down at her. “You don’t want me to get it down so you can play with it?”
“It’ll just go up there again,” she said, glancing toward her brother. “Mason’s not a good thrower.”
The boy’s brows drew together at his sister’s insult. “I’m a better thrower than you are!”
“Children,” Audra admonished.
“It’s true,” her son said. “I wish I had someone to throw with that knows how to play Frisbee.”
“Your sister tries her best,” she said calmly.
“I don’t like to throw,” Lily said, her bottom lip pulling downward into a pout.
It was clear to see feelings were about to get hurt. “Not everyone does,” he assured her. “You’re probably really good at tea parties.”
Her little face lit up. “I am!”
He offered her a smile and then looked to Mason. “My niece, Katydid, who’s about your age I would guess, loves to play Frisbee. I’ll have to introduce you to her since you’re gonna be living here.”
The boy’s expression was priceless—wide-eyed and openmouthed, displaying a small gap where two of his bottom baby teeth had once been. “She’s named after a bug?”
Carter chuckled. “Not really. Katydid is what I call her. Her real name is Katherine Marie, but everyone calls her Katie.”
“Mommy, the van’s raining!” Lily exclaimed in a high-pitched squeal.
They all turned to see water spilling out from behind the sliding passenger door the kids had left partially open.
Audra gasped. “Oh, no! Excuse me,” she called back as she broke into a run for her van.
Carter watched her go. Lord, he thought to himself, if anyone needs a little extra help, it’s her. Not that she’d accept it. Audra Marshall was determined to go it on her own. Stubborn female.
* * *
“I’m hungry,” Lily whined, drawing Audra’s gaze across what would be the master bedroom, to where her young daughter had settled herself onto the freshly scrubbed hardwood floor. Arms crossed. Bottom lip pushed out in a pout.
Her baby girl was exhausted. Understandably so. The three of them had worked hard the past few hours, sweeping and scrubbing down the kids’ rooms, along with the upstairs bathroom and part of the kitchen, all of which had been monumental tasks. The rest of the cleaning could wait until the next day, her own room included. At least the floor was clean, even if the walls weren’t. She cast a fretful glance around the room, taking in its faded, peeling wallpaper and scuffed-up hardwood floor, and felt the overwhelming urge to cry. Lord, please give me the strength to do what needs to be done here.
At least they would have a roof over their heads, albeit a slightly sunken one, but a roof all the same. Her children would have clean rooms to sleep in, free of dust motes and cobwebs. And while she’d given the kitchen a fairly thorough scrubbing, Audra didn’t have the strength left to make use of it and cook dinner for the three of them.
She looked toward the sleeping bag she’d unrolled, where the bed would be. It was only for one night. The moving truck with her oversize storage containers was scheduled to arrive the following day and then she’d be able to get their beds set up and make the place look more like a home.
“Mommy,” her daughter pleaded woefully.
Audra managed a tired smile. “Why don’t we wash up, then take a ride into town to get something to eat?”
Her daughter’s eyes lit up.