she was always so happy. “Because God loves me,” she’d told him. He’d never quite grasped the comfort she found in that, though he’d often wished he could. Once, in high school, after he’d told Shay he struggled to feel God’s love ever since his dad had dumped them, Shay had admitted she felt the same way after her mom died. He wondered if she still felt like that.
“You’ve been working in the shed again,” Shay exclaimed as she followed him outside. “Remember the time you were trying to figure out a sequence for the Fourth of July fireworks? You almost blew off the roof.” She laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Go ahead, make fun of me,” he growled and blocked the door. As he looked down at her, he realized he wasn’t that much taller than Shay, but somehow she always brought out a protective urge in him. Maybe it was the innocence in her wide-open gaze or the way she always looked directly at him, as if she expected nothing but the truth from him. His heart seemed to skip a beat at the thought, and he cleared his throat. “Maybe I shouldn’t let you see what I’ve been working on.”
“I’m just teasing.” Her smile softened. “I also remember how you constructed that ladder thing that let Mrs. Smith get what she needed from her attic without endangering herself. And the way you rigged that gizmo in Mr. Murphy’s garage so he could raise and lower shelves. And—”
“Okay. Enough ego boosting,” he said in his drollest tone.
“Your inventions have made a difference to quite a few people in Hope, Nick.”
“For that you are permitted to enter, kind madam.” He bowed and waved a hand as if granting passage into a secret cave. Well, it was his man cave.
Shay walked inside and stopped, her head swiveling to take in the assortment of projects on his workbench. “It’s not exactly the same as it used to be.”
“I should hope not. I’m older and smarter now.” He grinned when she rolled her eyes. He directed her to his left. “This is what Maggie was talking about,” he said, pointing to the roly-poly.
Shay bent to study his work. “Interesting. What is it, exactly?”
“I researched Maggie’s injury. Then, after watching you work with her, I put this together. It’s like a walker. Sort of.” Unnerved by Shay’s silence, Nick lifted it and set it in front of her. “When you push it, it makes noise. I figured it might keep her from getting bored with the exercises.”
“Clever guy,” Shay murmured. She pushed the handle and grinned at the noise that followed.
“Once she’s mastered this, it won’t take much to change it up a bit,” Nick explained. “Maybe I’ll make it more like a bicycle that she has to pedal. That would build strength in her legs, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it would.” Shay asked him to demonstrate so she could watch which muscles he used—Nick began to sweat bullets wondering if he’d made a huge mistake. Then Shay tried it herself. “It’s amazing,” she said. “Ingenious, actually. Obviously Maggie can hardly wait to try it, and those things that whirl and click and beep will be an excellent incentive for her to push harder to make them go faster, louder, whatever.”
“I hope so.” He adjusted one of the handlebars trying to hide his delight that Shay thought his work was amazing. “It needs a few modifications but it’ll soon be finished. When do you think she could start using it?”
“Whenever she wants to give it a shot.” Shay straightened. “But only where it’s flat and smooth. And only if you’re right beside her. She will tire quickly at first and may overbalance. Don’t let her overdo.”
“I could add something like training wheels,” he mused. “That would provide stability.”
“Good idea.” She moved to study another machine he was deconstructing. “What’s this?”
“It was going to be an adaptation to the pedal system on Mom’s old bike, to make riding easier. She promised Maggie they’d take a bike ride when she’s able,” Nick explained. “But I can’t get it to work right so I’ve gone back to the drawing board. These are just a bunch of spare parts at the moment.”
“Actually—” Shay frowned, her gaze far away on something Nick couldn’t see.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, steeling himself for her criticism.
“Nothing. It’s just that I was thinking—” She touched one wheel thoughtfully then looked straight at him. “Can I play inventor for a minute?”
“Be my guest.” Nick stepped back, disconcerted by the way she studied him. Once he’d been able to read her thoughts so easily, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking, only that it made his stomach do a little flip and he had no idea why that was.
Shay grasped two hard, round balls from a nearby basket filled with sports paraphernalia from his youth. “Could you attach these to the wheels?”
“I suppose.” Nick frowned, considering how he could do it. He turned to glance at Shay. That speculative look of hers was leading up to something. “Why?”
“Because then this machine would be exactly what your mom needs to work her hands and arms. It’s a strange thing, but in the world of arthritis, moving, even though it hurts, means gaining mobility.” Shay demonstrated what she wanted and waited while he attached the balls. “Yes. That’s better.” She tried it out. “Can you make it a little harder to move?”
Nick caught the flowery scent of Shay’s perfume as he bent to adjust the tension. Had she always smelled like the desert in bloom? “How’s that?” he said, standing back, trying to regain his focus.
“It’s perfect.”
“We make a good team.” He grinned at her.
“I didn’t do anything, but you sure have a knack for inventing.” Her gaze moved back to the machine he’d created for Maggie. “I wish I had something like this for another client. A boy, Ted Swan. I don’t suppose...” Her head tilted to one side as she favored him with an odd look.
“No, I can’t,” he said when he realized she wanted him to build something else. “I don’t know anything about therapy. This is just a toy.”
“It’s a very useful toy,” she said. “You can help people with your toys.”
“My field is football, Shay. That’s what I intend to stick with.” He felt oddly unsettled by the calculating look she gave him. She liked the machine he’d made, but if he tried to create something for this client of hers and failed, he’d look like a fool to her. He couldn’t figure out why it suddenly mattered so much that Shay didn’t see him as a failure; he only knew it did. “If this thing helps Maggie, great. But that’s as far as I’ll go.”
“Okay.” Her voice was quiet but her eyes brimmed with sadness. “Can you carry this inside so your mom can try it now, while I’m here?”
Nick lifted the machine they’d collaborated on. Shay led the way back to the house, her long legs easily eating up the distance from the shed. He followed more slowly, wondering about the other client she’d mentioned. It had to be a kid because that was primarily whom she worked with. He found it endearing that Shay managed to think about someone else while helping Maggie and his mom. She had always gone the extra mile for something she believed in.
But then Shay and Brianna and Jaclyn had always rushed to fill a need where they saw it, often before others even realized it was there. Zac and Kent were the same. They all pitched in whenever and however they were needed in the small community. Nick was starting to realize how much he’d missed the sense of togetherness and common purpose that Hope offered.
And how much he liked being a part of it. Maybe he’d think about something for this boy, but not till he’d finished Maggie’s machine.
Inside the house, Nick stood back as Shay gently led his mother through a regimen that