her skirt bouncing as she walked.
As Janie turned to him, Luke held up his hand as if in defense. “I didn’t lure them over here. Promise. I was just cleaning up.”
Janie shot a quick glance over her shoulder, as if to make sure her children were in the house, then turned back to Luke. “I’m sure you didn’t, but at the same time, I would prefer it if you could keep your distance.” She caught one corner of her mouth between her teeth, effectively ruining her lipstick, as if she was biting back other things she wanted to say.
“I understand your reluctance,” he said, though he felt slightly annoyed. “But you don’t need to worry about me around your kids.”
“I think I’m a better judge of what to worry or not worry about. So just make sure you and that dog stay on your side of the fence, and we’ll get along fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to church.” Janie gave him a curt nod then left.
Bert came to stand beside him, watching Janie as she strode down the cracked and broken sidewalk to the house.
“She’s kinda cute, ain’t she?” he said with a grin.
“Yeah. Kinda,” Luke conceded, though she’d be cuter if she didn’t look at him like he was some kind of lecher or make Cooper sound like some kind of rabid animal.
“The other day that little boy was asking if he could help us. Said he knew how to pound nails real good.” Bert laughed. “The little girl wanted to help, too. She reminded me of my own girl.” Bert was quiet for a moment. “You got kids?”
“No. I don’t.” And to his surprise, the simple question raised a twinge of pain. Luke spun around. “Let’s get back to work.”
By early afternoon, Luke was feeling more confident about the progress of the job. If he hadn’t been busy with that other house back in Calgary, he’d have been up here sooner. Obviously the crew needed the influence of the boss around to keep things going.
“So, anyone up for a coffee?” he said as the crew settled onto the deck for lunch.
“Black, two sugars,” Dave said.
“Cream and one sugar,” Bert said.
“Okay. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” Luke had seen a coffee shop on the main street when he’d scouted the town, and from the looks of the customers filling it, he figured it was one of the better places in town to grab a coffee.
He headed down the walk to the front of the house where his truck was parked, whistling. As he got in, he glanced over to the neighbor’s house.
The flowerpots that Cooper had tossed over had been righted, but the plants in them looked broken and bedraggled.
He said he would replace them, and in spite of Janie’s protests, he knew he had to do something.
Once he got things going far enough on the house, he’d take care of it.
“Why didn’t you skip church to clean up?” Dodie called out from the back of the shop.
“I need church.” Janie dipped the mop into the pail. “I need the nourishment I get there. My fellowship with fellow believers.”
“And the serving coffee after church? Was that fellowship with fellow believers?” Dodie asked.
“I said I would help Mrs. Dodson.”
“You could have skipped it, but of course, that wouldn’t look good.” Dodie dropped her pail of water on the table. “Janie Corbett is far too concerned with what other people might think if she possibly shirked even one second of what she perceived was her duty.”
Janie didn’t bother with a comeback. Dodie had never been one to care what people thought of her, and it showed both in the way she dressed and in the choices she made in her life.
“There are worse things you could accuse me of,” Janie said, swishing the mop over the floor. She cocked one ear, listening for the kids. She heard Todd’s muffled laughter and Autumn’s singing. She guessed Suzie was with them.
“I also could accuse you of being too independent. If I hadn’t been so nosy, I wouldn’t have found out you were going to come here and clean all alone.” Dodie’s voice held an accusing note.
“I would have done this on my own.”
“You would have been exhausted. Honestly, you don’t have to do everything by yourself.”
Why not? She’d fallen into that role out of necessity ever since she married Owen. Dependable and Owen were not words that belonged together.
“And I’m sure right now, you’re hoping Mom doesn’t find out you’re working on a Sunday afternoon instead of having dinner with her.” Dodie tut-tutted as she rinsed out a cloth and started wiping the tables.
“She won’t if you keep your big yap shut.”
“And your kids? What did you tell them to make sure they don’t spill?”
“I told them Grandma wouldn’t like it if she found out. Which, of course, meant I had to have a long conversation with Autumn about what would happen if Grandma did find out.” She frowned at her sister. “Could you put the cinnamon and chocolate sprinkles on either side of the sugar container? And don’t roll your eyes at me. This is my coffee shop and I like things in order.”
“I’d think you have a lot more to be concerned about than sugar container placement.” Dodie made a show of setting the containers in place, framing the scene with her hands then moving them a fraction to one side. “I can’t believe you’re still thinking of expanding. You have enough going as it is.”
“I’m like a shark,” Janie said. “I need to keep moving or die, which means I need to expand—” she stopped there. Her own father’s business was successful mainly because he kept expanding, kept moving onward and upward. The only difference was Dan Westerveld didn’t have a spouse who had gambled away all available equity in the house and business.
But Janie kept that information to herself. Neither her sister nor her parents knew how dire her financial situation was.
“What do you mean? And you’re kind of struggling as it is.”
“And that’s why I need to expand. I’m just trying to make sure I can sustain my current lifestyle, which is hardly extravagant.”
“I’ll say. I can’t believe that beater of a car of yours is still running.”
“Regular maintenance helps.” And prayer, Janie thought. Something she spent a lot of time on these days. “Although each time I bring it in for an oil change, they find something else wrong with it.”
“You should marry a mechanic/carpenter. You wouldn’t have to worry ’bout your car, or your house.” Dodie moved to the next table.
“He should be a gardener, too,” Janie muttered.
“I heard about your plants and that dog.” Dodie’s chuckle turned serious. “Did Autumn get over her scare?”
“She seems okay. Though I’m sure Todd will begin his dog campaign in earnest again.”
“Mom said the dog’s owner seemed a little odd.”
“No odder than most,” Janie replied, trying to sound disinterested. She was still a bit angry for the momentary tug of attraction she’d felt toward him.
But she’d set some firm boundaries this morning when she caught Todd talking to him. Start as you mean to go on.
“So I’m done with the tables. Now what?” Dodie swung the cloth back and forth as she looked around the shop.
“Maybe you could tidy up the storeroom and make sure my kids are behaving.”
Dodie saluted and picked