Season of Redemption. Jenna Mindel
in every one of her drawings, her collages, everything.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed.” Poor kid equated a real house with stability. Not bad for a seven-year-old.
Gracie’s mom, Dorrie, had applied for and been accepted by a nonprofit group of churches that built homes for needy families that qualified. Dorrie did everything she could to give Gracie and her older sister Hannah a sense of security despite their many moves, and this new home promised stability. Something they’d been missing along with the fact that they never saw their father—her brother, Karl.
A twinge of guilt knotted in Kellie’s stomach. A few weeks ago, Dorrie had told her that many of the summertime volunteers for the Church Hammers group had dropped off, leaving her house behind schedule on construction. Kellie still hadn’t picked up the pace in helping out. She’d been too busy studying, both for the upcoming certification exam and teen group dynamics for her internship at LightHouse Center.
The bell rang announcing the end of the school day and kids bounded for their coats. Beth’s instructions to leave their projects on their desks fell on deaf ears. Some gathered theirs up only to dump them on their teacher’s desk and then race for their in-class cubby lockers.
After helping with the raucous mass exodus of second graders, Kellie returned to the classroom to help Beth straighten up and grade papers. She had plenty of time to make it to the construction site, work for a bit and then head home to study.
Kellie finally scooped up her purse. “Hey, I gotta run.”
“Yeah, I’m leaving, too. Thanks for your help. See you later in the week.” Beth gave her a wave.
Once in her car, Kellie rolled her shoulders. A few hours at Dorrie’s might do her some good. She could concentrate on manual labor for a change. No brain exercises, no worries.
Kellie drove out of town, past her road and headed north toward Dorrie’s building site. Church Hammers built homes every other year for a needy family. This year, Dorrie and her nieces were that needy family. Needy, like her. Casualties left in the wake of her brother’s neglect and drug use.
Kellie parked on the side of the road where there were already a few cars and pickup trucks. One of them looked disturbingly familiar and her gut clenched.
No way. Not here. There’s dozens of dark blue trucks in Northern Michigan.
Shaking off images of the man who consumed her thoughts enough lately, Kellie gathered up her work gloves and walked along the gravel driveway.
The newly sided house was a pretty little ranch on a large lot at the beginning of a quiet cul-de-sac. This struggling housing development lay smack in the middle of cherry country so the views were beautiful, especially in May when the cherry trees were in blossom. The builder who’d donated the lot must have needed a tax break since several other lots still sported rusty For Sale signs. Real estate, especially new builds, moved super slowly these days. If at all.
Scanning the darkening horizon, Kellie wondered if they were in for more rain. Thankfully the volunteers worked primarily inside. The house had been roughed in with the plumbing and electrical wiring completed. Opening the side door, Kellie stepped into the unfinished kitchen. Zipping sounds of electric drills and the tap-tap of staple guns greeted her.
“Aunt Kellie!” Gracie tore around the corner and launched into her arms.
“Hey, Gracie.” Kellie looked up as her older niece Hannah hobbled her way toward them.
“Hi, Aunt Kellie.” Hannah’s recovery from a mowing accident that cut her Achilles tendon this past summer was slow but sure. She wore an air cast to her knee.
“How’s the leg?”
Hannah shrugged. “It’s okay. I have to go to physical therapy when the cast comes off.”
“Take it easy until then.” Kellie tugged on one of Hannah’s pigtails. How would Dorrie manage that? Kellie would help where she could. “Where’s your mom?”
“In the living room. They’re hanging insulation.”
Kellie nodded and stepped forward holding Gracie’s hand. But when she entered the living room, she sucked in a breath. Ryan, wearing a tool belt and looking too much like a permanent fixture, held a swath of pink insulation while Dorrie staple-gunned the sides in place.
“Mommy, Aunt Kellie’s here,” Gracie announced.
Kellie heard Dorrie’s greeting, but her gaze was fixed on Ryan. It appeared as though she couldn’t escape this guy.
He turned and smiled. “Hey, Kellie.”
It was a devastatingly handsome smile. All traces of having gone through an emotional meltdown in group last week were gone. He looked healthy and strong. And good. Way too good.
Kellie felt like a deer blinded by headlights. “Hi.”
Dorrie looked from her to Ryan. “You guys know each other?”
“Yeah.” Again with the smile, like they shared a secret. “We’ve met.”
Kellie found her tongue. “Right. Okay, put me to work, Dorrie.”
“Ryan’s your guy for directions.” Dorrie stepped down from the short ladder and whipped off her gloves to wipe her forehead. “I do what he tells me.”
Kellie’s startled gaze locked back on Ryan.
“Might as well take a break. I’ve got to get more rolls of insulation from the trailer.” Ryan tucked his gloves into the back pocket of his jeans.
Dorrie nodded and gathered her daughters close. “Come on girls, I’ve got a job for you two.”
Kellie looked around. This was the last room to be insulated. A couple of men were working on laying the floor in the dining room. And a couple of women prepped the kitchen for the dinner that would be brought in by more volunteers. Not exactly a big group. More guilt washed through her.
Ryan stepped toward her. “So, you’re Aunt Kellie. I never put the two together. I didn’t think you had any family here.”
“Just Dorrie and the girls.” Kellie had moved here because of them. And because she could complete her master’s at the regional location of Western Michigan University in Traverse City.
“Talk about a small world.”
Way too small. “What are you doing here?”
“Help me get the insulation?” He nodded toward the door.
She gestured for him to lead the way. They walked in silence through the front door outside into the crisp autumn evening. A huge builder’s trailer sat parked on the grass beside the driveway.
Ryan lifted the trailer door and jumped up to grab some kind of metal cart. “This is where I’m putting in my community service hours.”
“Ah.” Now it made sense that he didn’t want to announce that in front of the other volunteers. “Does Dorrie know?”
He leaned against the wall of the trailer. “Yeah. I figured she should because of her kids. She also happens to go to my brother’s church.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
He shrugged. “A couple weeks. The builder that oversees the project signs off on my hours for the court.”
But Dorrie made it sound like he was somehow in charge. Did he have experience in construction, too? “I thought you worked for a research center that grew cherries.”
“And some other fruits, yeah. So?”
“You looked like you knew what you’re doing in there.”
He smiled. “It’s not rocket science. I finished up my own home project this summer. I know my way around the basics.”
“Oh.” Like he knew engines.