Opposites Attract

Widowed contractor Logan Burkett knows exactly what troublemaking teens need: discipline. A former rabble-rouser, Logan had his life turned around by firm guidance and hard work. But try telling that to Pippa Gallagher. The softhearted event planner runs a skate park ministry for troubled teens and thinks a place to be themselves is the answer. As he and Pippa work together renovating the space, they seem to disagree about everything. But when disaster strikes, Logan finds himself feeling very protective of the beautiful planner and surprised to discover they share one very special thing in common…love.

Second Time Around:

Widowers find that love can bloom again…

“I work with kids that aren’t always considered socially acceptable,” Pippa said.

She glanced at Logan and continued, “I’m wondering whether you thought those kids were up to no good based on how they looked.”

“Partly,” he said. “If I remember right, the rest of what I said was that they reminded me of myself at that age. I wasn’t exactly socially acceptable, either.”

Pippa nodded. “That’s why I’m so passionate about the skating outreach. These kids are outcasts, or at least they look like it, and they need a place to go where they’re off the streets.”

“I don’t think that would have worked for me, so I’m not sure I can agree with your method.”

She opened her mouth to argue and then decided taking a bite of pie was the better course of action. Obviously Logan’s opinions and hers were in direct opposition.

He met her gaze. Oh, but the man was handsome, even if he was completely wrong about the best way to win wayward souls to the Lord.

KATHLEEN Y’BARBO

is a multipublished bestselling author of Christian fiction and nonfiction with over thirty books to her credit. She writes historical novels for Waterbrook Press and is the coauthor of two nonfiction books on divorce and empty-nest syndrome. A tenth-generation Texan, she holds a marketing degree from Texas A&M University and a certificate in paralegal studies. Kathleen is the proud mother of a daughter and three grown sons.

Their Unexpected Love

Kathleen Y’Barbo

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?

—Romans 10:14

For skaters and their parents.

And to my skaters,

Andrew and Jacob Y’Barbo.…

And finally, thank you to the real Logan

for allowing me to borrow your name.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Dear Reader,

Extract

Chapter One

Every detail of this afternoon’s fund-raiser for the Vine Beach Senior Center had been handled well beforehand, leaving Pippa Gallagher with plenty of time to scan the crowd. It appeared that everyone who was anyone in this little slice of Texas beach had accepted the invitation to come and bid on originals and prints of the celebrated artist Pearl.

Because the last children’s book Granny had worked on was set on Oahu, Pippa had settled on a party to match. The tropical theme had gone over well, as evidenced by the plethora of citizens dressed in floral attire that made the room look as if it were a neon garden. The addition of palm trees and tropical touches to Granny’s otherwise traditional décor gave the oversize reception room an island feel. With the doors thrown open, the sea air and sounds of the waves crashing nearby added to the ambience.

Waitstaff in Hawaiian garb passed through the crowd, offering fruit drinks and appetizers while Don Ho’s ukulele music played softly through the sound system. Though Pippa had borrowed the ideas from an oil company executive’s retirement party she had planned before she’d left the corporate world, the addition of Granny’s paintings and the mayor in the costume of a Hawaiian chief was all Vine Beach. Mayor Murdoch caught her watching and lifted his spear in greeting.

“How you managed to get that man to wear that outfit is beyond me, Pippa.”

She turned to see her friend Leah Berry-Owen grinning. “The same way I got Pop’s Seafood Shack to provide the sushi.”

Leah chuckled. “Pop would have a fit if he knew any fish was leaving his kitchen in a condition other than fried or grilled.”

“It’s just for the party,” Pippa reminded the restaurant’s owner. “Unless you’re considering putting it on the menu. The guests are certainly enjoying it.”

“It does seem to be disappearing.” Leah’s gaze slid past her to fix on something near the door. “And speaking of disappearing, look who is back in Vine Beach. And at a party, no less.”

“What do you mean?” Pippa turned in the direction that her companion indicated but found her view blocked. “Who’s back?”

“Well, I mean Ryan said he’d been going to Starting Over group for the last couple of months, so technically I knew he was back, but this is the first time I’ve seen him out socially.” Leah paused to address Pippa. “You know about Starting Over, right?”

Pippa nodded. She had indeed heard of the church-sponsored widowers’ group and of Leah’s husband’s history, first as a member and now a mentor.

“His father probably made him go, what with his practically founding the group. Still...” She craned her neck to look at the subject of her musings and then returned her attention to Pippa. “I’m just surprised he’s here, that’s all. I mean, even though it’s been almost two years since...Oh, he’s coming this way.”

“He? Leah, who are you talking about?” Pippa turned around but a broad shoulder kept her from seeing anything. By tipping her head up, she looked directly into the pale green eyes of Logan Burkett. “Oh.”

Swallowing hard, she took in high, tanned cheekbones and thick black lashes ringing eyes the color of beach glass. Caramel-colored hair streaked in places by the sun curled at the edge of the collar of his white button-down shirt. Faded jeans and boots gave the impression of a cowboy who had found a luau while looking for a rodeo.

His eyes darted past her as he smiled. “Leah Berry, right?” Logan extended his hand, and Leah shook it.

“Owen, actually. Or rather Berry-Owen. I married Ryan almost a year ago now.” Leah’s attention flitted to Pippa, her expression exhorting her to say something. Anything.

Seeing Logan Burkett again after all these years shouldn’t have given Pippa a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. What was it about the man that made her feel as if she were still that goofy ninth grader with the awkward hairstyle and the complete inability to fit in?

Maybe it was the fact that Logan had changed very little since she’d last seen him. Oh, he was older, definitely sporting muscles that weren’t there back in high school. But he was still the good-looking guy with the attitude that told the world he knew it and the oh-so-handsome face that backed it up.

He grinned, and her stomach did a flip. Oh.

Making a face at Pippa’s prolonged silence, Leah continued. “Logan, you remember Pippa Gallagher from Vine Beach High, don’t you?” Now she smiled directly at her friend. “Pippa, this is Logan Burkett.”

Pippa reached to shake his hand and found his grip firm, his hands showing the calluses of a working man. “Welcome back to Vine Beach,” she said, an absurd statement considering she herself had just returned a few months ago.

“Well, thank you,” he said, “but we’ve already met.”

“No,” Pippa said quickly. “I would have remembered.” The words, once out, made her cringe.

“B and B Construction?” He shook his head. “Surely you remember the guy you’ve been emailing with for the past month.”

“LB?”

As in Logan Burkett. From ninth grade. The guy whose head probably still bore the scars of her skateboard falling out of the locker above his. The one with whom she had debated everything from ambient lighting and reclaimed floor tiles to low-flush toilets?

“Yes, that’s me. Guess I should have spelled out my whole name, but I don’t have much patience for emails.” A shrug. “Besides, with Vine Beach being such a small town, I figured you knew.”

“Wait a minute,” Leah said. “You’re her...”

“Construction foreman on the remodel? Yes, that’s me. I’ve sent her a construction update email every Friday at noon for the past four weeks.”

“Punctual,” Leah whispered when Logan looked away. “I like that in a man. And, girl, he is cute, too.”

Pippa nudged her friend and then gave her a look that, of course, Leah ignored. “Behave,” she added as a useless afterthought.

Leah would never behave. Not when it meant giving up a chance to find a man for Pippa. Just because Leah was happily married to the handsome fire marshal, she did not have a license to send Pippa toward the altar.

The music on the sound system switched to a Beach Boys tune, a distraction that lasted only a second. Pippa’s eyes narrowed as she thought back over the series of emails regarding the renovation of the building in downtown Vine Beach.

In a previous conversation, Granny had mentioned something about the foreman being a changed man. About finding his faith and going off to build churches in Africa and then losing it over some life tragedy, though the details on both were a bit vague. Perhaps she should have paid more attention.

Had Pippa known Granny was rattling on about Logan Burkett, she certainly would have.

“Pippa?” Leah nudged her. “You’re staring,” she whispered. “Stop it.” And then she turned to Logan. “So, tell me what you’re doing for my silent friend here. Rumor around town is the old bakery is going to be Mrs. Gallagher’s showplace. I can’t even get Pippa to tell me what the plans are.”

“There’s nothing to tell because the plans haven’t been finalized yet,” Pippa said as she found her voice.

“About that,” Logan said. “I had an idea on the way over that I’d like to talk to you about when you get a chance.”

“Before our meeting with Granny?”

A shrug. “Doesn’t have to be.”

“All right. I’ll check my schedule and email you.” Again she fought the blush that should have gone with such a ridiculous statement. Until Granny’s art gallery opened on the first floor of the building Logan was remodeling, Pippa’s schedule was light at best. Except for planning this event, the only actual work she’d done was over at the skate park.

Not that she considered building a ministry where kids could come and in-line skate or skateboard in a safe environment work. That was pure fun.

“It looks like the church will get its senior center after all,” Logan said.

Leah grinned. “With Pippa in charge, there was never a doubt. Did you know she was quite successful in her former career as a corporate events planner and fund-raiser?”

Pippa felt the heat flood her cheeks. What was wrong with her? This was her building contractor, not a potential prom date.

“Really, Leah,” Pippa said. “I doubt Logan is interested in all that.”

“I can see my friend doesn’t want to brag,” Leah said. “And as much as I would love to fill you in on all the details of her illustrious career, as owner of the company chosen to offer sushi to the masses this afternoon, I should circulate and do a little quality control.” She eyed Logan before resting her attention on Pippa. “I’ll call you later.”

Before Pippa could comment, Leah was gone, blending into the crowd. Slowly Pippa met Logan’s impassive gaze. Goodness but his eyes were a beautiful shade of green.

“You planned all this?” He nodded toward the crowd. “Impressive.”

“It’s what I do.” Pippa reached out to snatch a festive-looking glass of pineapple-orange punch from a passing waiter. “Or rather what I did before Granny decided she needed me closer to home.”

“So you’re taking care of your grandmother now?”

“Taking care of Granny? No,” she said with a chuckle. “Hardly. If anything it’s the other way around. I think she was lonely and wanted me home.” Her gaze traveled around the room, then settled back on Logan. “She has plenty of friends but I’m all the family she’s got here in Vine Beach.”

“Well, it’s nice that you’re back anyway. It takes someone special to put a career on hold for a family member.” Logan gave her a direct look. “About high school. I have to ask. Was I awful to you?”

His question caught her off guard. It was almost as if he had changed the subject deliberately. Being ignored in high school wasn’t awful if the recipient wished she were invisible. And Logan’s claiming back then to hate skateboards was fair since he had been hit enough times as they fell from the locker above.

So she said, “No,” as she twirled the drink’s pink paper umbrella with her index finger.

“Good.” Relief punctuated the statement. “On the way here I saw kids dressed like they were up to no good. Reminded me of myself at that age. Not a good feeling to know I was one of them.”

One of them?

Pippa bristled at the statement she’d heard far too often in relation to the kids at the skate park, kids who loved Jesus but looked different. As she once did.

“What do you mean exactly?” she asked carefully.

“I’ve spent a whole lot of years apologizing for the jerk I was back then.”

Not the answer to her question. “I would hate to be judged by what I did in ninth grade. Or what I looked like.” The latter was a carefully aimed dig at his assumption that kids’ clothing somehow reflected their hearts.

“You look like sunshine right now,” he said, then glanced away. “Sorry, that sounded really stupid. Anyway,” he added abruptly, “I appreciate the invitation today. I don’t usually go to these things, but your grandmother can be persuasive.”

The oddest sensation came over Pippa as she watched Logan Burkett’s obvious discomfort. Apparently anyone could feel out of place given the right set of circumstances. Even the most popular boy at Vine Beach High School.

The silence between them lengthened until Pippa felt compelled to fill it. “I don’t know too many people in Vine Beach anymore. Just a few old friends are still here. Most have moved on.”

“Seems that way.”

Another conversational dead end. Pippa’s eyes swept the crowd and then stalled on the town veterinarian and his wife, both good friends since her teen years. Eric made no pretense of not watching the two of them, although he seemed more concerned with Logan and what he might be doing here. Just as it appeared the veterinarian was headed her way, Granny waylaid him and they began conversing.

Pippa took a sip to fortify her dry mouth only to somehow manage to jab the end of the pink paper umbrella up her nose. With the back of her hand, Pippa swatted it away and saw it spiral out of sight to land beside a spray of orchids and a stack of Granny’s books.

Thankfully Logan seemed too preoccupied with the crowd milling around them to notice. Still, heat flamed her cheeks as she took a healthy gulp of juice.

By the time she managed a somewhat neutral expression, Logan was grinning. So he had seen her embarrass herself. If only the ground would just swallow her up.

“This is a beautiful home,” Logan offered. “Guessing it’ll be hard to move out when the building is finished.”

“Actually I don’t live here,” she said. “Granny would like me to, but that feels a little too much like high school, so I’m renting Leah Owen’s beachfront place until the loft is ready.”

“Which won’t take long,” he said quickly.

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Pippa said. “I love living right on the beach. There’s just something about seeing the waves crashing and...” She shook her head as she waved away the statement. “Anyway, it will be nice to live just around the corner from where I work, so I’ll also be happy when I’m settled downtown.”

“Around the corner?” Logan gave her a look. “Won’t you be living upstairs from where you work?”

“Oh, yes,” she quickly corrected. “Once the gallery is open. And it will be nice to live there,” Pippa added. “Great architecture will trump sandy feet, I suppose.”

“The sand’s not that far away. Just a couple of blocks.” Logan paused. “So where are you working now?”

“R10:14 Skate Park,” she said. “Though I don’t actually work there. I’m a volunteer.”

“Skate park?” He chuckled. “That’s funny.”

Pippa stood a little straighter. “What’s so funny about it?”

His smile faded. “Well, you don’t exactly look like the skateboarding type.”

“Now I know you don’t remember me from high school. Maybe it was all those times my skateboard fell out of my locker and hit you on your head. I always wondered if you left Vine Beach High the next year because of that.”

He gave her a sideways look. Slowly recognition dawned as his gaze swept the length of her. “But you’re too...”

Oh, this was fun. “I’m too what?” At his stricken expression, Pippa elected to give the poor guy a break. “If you were about to say that I am too pretty to be a skateboarder, then I would have to say thank you. If, however, you were about to say something else, then I retract the thanks.”

“You’ve got me there. And you’re welcome.”

Logan waved a waiter over and picked up a glass of juice. Before he handed it to Pippa, he removed the yellow umbrella and stuck it in his front pocket.

Their eyes met, Logan looking amused. And then, just barely, one corner of his mouth lifted in the beginning of a grin.

“So, about the building,” Pippa said. “Granny has a meeting with you to finalize the details on her calendar, right?”

“She does, though if you want I can send the details to you via email.”

“No need,” she said. “Our calendars are synched so the appointment reminder will be there when I get to work on Monday. I’m curious, though. Have you found any surprises during the demolition?”

“So far, no. The old building is solid as a rock. It just needs a little work, at least upstairs where you’ll be living. Downstairs is going to take more time, but that’s something we’ve already discussed.” Logan’s expression was tentative. “You said you like your view of the ocean in the rental. That reminds me of the idea I had.”

Granny stepped into view, Vine Beach’s mayor at her side. Apparently the part of the evening Pippa most dreaded was about to get under way. How many times had she smiled until her jaws ached at these events? Too many to count.

The irony was that while she loved to plan events, she had short tolerance for actually attending them.

“I’m curious,” she said to Logan. “What’s your idea? Some kind of decorating thing?”

He gave her a wide-eyed look. “Do I look like a decorator?” When she laughed, he continued. “It’s a construction item.” Uncertainty showed in his expression. “I spied some minor damage from last night’s storm that’s going to have to be repaired. While I was digging around—”

“Ladies and gentlemen” came the booming voice of Mayor Murdoch. “Can I have your attention? We came here for a reason, and I think it’s time we got started.”

Logan shrugged as if to indicate his inability to continue. Pippa gave her attention to the mayor, who was accepting a hug from Granny before handing her the microphone.

“Every one of you is here because you’ve indicated an interest in what the Gallagher Trust is doing,” Granny said. “For this I want to thank you. When my late husband and I set up this trust, I never expected the Lord would use it so mightily to bless others.”

Pippa thought of all the good her grandparents had done over the years and smiled. Not only had they funded her parents in their mission work in Indonesia, but they also sent out scores of others who had gone out to do the work of the Lord. And without the small stipend the trust paid her, she’d never have been able to get the youth ministry she called R10:14 up and running.

“So, Mayor,” Granny continued, “why don’t you do the honors and tell us who will be going home with my paintings tonight?”

Pippa stifled a groan. Here we go. If she didn’t find a way out soon, she would eventually be drawn into the speech-giving. Or, the way she thought of it, the moment when everyone stared and she made a fool of herself by either babbling nonsensically or finding nothing to say at all.

The mayor took the microphone and began to wax poetic on the tight competition for coveted pieces of art from the Gallagher collection. Every painting had a name and a story attached, and the politician took great care to draw out each before declaring the winners.

Pippa caught Logan watching her, then grinned when he quickly looked away. Apparently he shared her desire to escape.

Across the room, Dr. Wilson’s name was announced as the winner of Granny’s Sailboats at Dawn painting. By Pippa’s count there were at least two dozen more pieces to award. And then would come the speeches.

Time to make a discreet exit.

“So,” she whispered when she caught Logan’s attention again. “I was just leaving. Want to join me? You could show me that construction add-on you were talking about.”

“Now?” Recognition dawned as Logan leaned close. “You’re not exactly dressed for walking around a construction site.”

“Neither are you.” She gestured to the surfboard-themed tie he wore. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

A glance around the room and Logan returned his attention to her with a grin. “Are you kidding? Let’s go.”

Chapter Two

Pippa led the way around the back of Granny’s house, skirting the pool and the outdoor kitchen to enter the service area that led to the garage. Kicking off her heels, she slipped into the sandals she kept there. While she used them for wearing out on the sandy beach or in the outdoor shower, they should also work for poking around an old building. At the very least they should keep her from falling on her face, a distinct possibility in the uncomfortable but pretty yellow shoes she’d donned for the party.

She turned to be sure Logan was still following. He’d already removed his jacket and slung it over his arm and was in the process of loosening his surfboard tie. When their gazes met, he gave her a dazzling smile.

“Kind of like skipping class,” Pippa said, though she’d never dared make that sort of attempt back in high school.

“Kind of,” he replied as he reached up to run a hand through his sand-colored hair. His left hand.

Instantly Pippa checked for a ring and found none, then stifled a cringe. What is wrong with me?

“You never skipped class, did you?” he asked.

“Never,” she admitted.

“Then I suppose it’s time. Lead on,” said the object of her thoughts as he loosened the top two buttons on his dress shirt.

“This way.” Pippa glanced around and spied her Mini Cooper wedged between Granny’s sedan and several other cars. Apparently the valets for tonight’s event weren’t concerned with whether the family might need to escape.

She stopped short and looked around. “The blue one’s mine, but it’s not going anywhere. Do you mind driving?”

“Long as you don’t mind the wind in your hair,” Logan said. “I didn’t expect company, so I left the top to the Jeep back home in my garage.”

“I’ll manage.”

A moment later Logan waved away a valet to gesture toward a black Jeep Wrangler parked up the road between two vehicles of a more expensive type. As promised, the top was off, exposing the seats to the elements.

“Your chariot awaits,” he said as he trotted around to help her climb into the passenger seat.

Thankful she’d worn her hair up today, Pippa slid the seat belt into position and sat back to enjoy the ride. Only as the gates of Granny’s neighborhood were closing behind them did she truly consider the fact that she’d just left a party with a man she hardly knew.

In Vine Beach.

In broad daylight—or rather what remained of it as the sun teased the edge of the watery horizon.

Then again, it was Vine Beach. And it was Logan Burkett, a man she’d be working closely with at least until the end of the restoration project.

Pippa let out a long breath, grasping the edges of the seat as Logan made an abrupt turn and headed up the highway toward the downtown area. A strand of hair dislodged, and she quickly tucked it back into place.

Landmarks whizzed by. First came the historic Berryhill Farm, the Civil War–era mansion that Leah and Ryan owned. The main house on the property had been reduced to rubble after a devastating fire several years ago, so the couple now lived in a renovated caretaker’s house and raised palomino horses on the lush grassland location.

Just past that on the beach side of the road was Pop’s Seafood Shack and the collection of pastel-colored rental homes where she currently resided. Pippa thought to point out hers, then caught herself. No sense in giving Logan more information about her than he already knew.

So she held her comments until the cottage where Eric and Amy Wilson lived appeared in view. What was once a tiny home had been recently remodeled to include an addition that purportedly doubled the size of the home.

“Such a pretty house,” she said as she watched the rose-covered trellis that marked the front walkway slip past.

“Thanks,” Logan said as he spared her a glance. At her questioning look, he continued. “Amy didn’t want to move, but with the new baby there wasn’t enough room for the two of them and four kids.”

“Yes, I know,” Pippa said, having been part of the group of ladies who had given Amy her baby shower. “I didn’t realize you were an architect, as well.”

“I’m not.” His attention remained focused on the road even as a muscle tightened in his jaw. “I just like to play around with that kind of stuff. You could say I’m self-taught.”

“I see.” Pippa tried to make light of what had suddenly become a touchy topic. “Well, you’re very good at it. Have you ever considered going back to school and—”

“Thanks, but no, I don’t think so.” Logan pulled the Jeep to a stop to await the green light before turning onto Main Street. “Look, I appreciate the compliment, but I’m doing just fine hammering nails and sawing boards.”

Though his look was likely supposed to convince her otherwise, his expression told Pippa there was more to it. Had she known him any better, she might have asked. Instead she kept her silence and her curiosity.

They circled past the courthouse and then a line of buildings that stretched the distance between the Vine Beach Community Center to the north and Grace Church to the south. In between was a collection of hundred-year-old brick structures punctuated with the occasional upstart 60’s-era glass front office. Smack in the middle of the entire grouping was the former Branson’s Bakery, the place where Pippa would finally put down roots.

It was a good thing, she reminded herself as the familiar dread threatened. Women her age were having babies and lamenting the careers they’d given up. Thus it was high time she let go of her dream of a full-time skate park ministry and do something productive.

She would still be involved in the ministry even though her main responsibility would be to Granny and the ground-floor gallery Pippa would be managing for her. The budget allowed for the hiring of at least two part-time employees, so her evenings and weekends would still be mostly available. Pippa let out a long breath. Breaking the news to the kids who had christened her with the nickname of Flip, thanks to her skating prowess, that the R10:14’s hours would be shortened was not something she’d been looking forward to.

Eventually she’d have to tell them, though. A thought occurred. Until the store was completed, her time was her own. Which meant she could spend as much of that time at the skate park as she wished.

Pippa glanced at Logan as an idea formed. “So,” she said slowly, “how long did you say the work was going to take?”

“I didn’t.” He signaled to turn. “But I’m thinking if I get the materials in when they’ve been promised, I can turn over the keys to your loft in three weeks. Two and a half if I hurry.”

Unexpected disappointment hit her hard. She’d hoped for at least another month of uninterrupted time at the skate park before she had to divide herself between ministry and commerce. Two or three would be better, as it would give her time to see the teenagers had a safe place to spend their time through the summer months.

“I see,” Pippa said as brightly as she could manage.

“The store itself will take a little longer. We’re retrofitting what’s there, so there are fewer issues with what’s behind the walls. Still, I’m going to say that’s another month or two of work, depending.”

Her hopes rose. Several months would be wonderful. Longer, even better. “Depending?”

Logan nodded. “Never know what’ll happen on a job site. Lots of variables. Until this morning I had no idea we’d be hiding a broken satellite dish.” At her confused look, he continued. “Apparently the storm knocked it over. The historical commission will never approve of it dangling in full view of people on the street. Nor would your grandmother.”

“True.” Pippa twisted the sliver bracelet on her wrist and tried to sound casual. “And this new idea you have? Will that add to the time line?”

“At least two weeks, maybe three or four depending on what I find when my helper and I start tearing things apart. Of course, if you’re in a hurry I might be able to come up with a less labor-intensive plan to speed things up.”

“No,” she said quickly. Too quickly, Pippa decided when her companion gave her a surprised look. “What I mean is, I’m comfortable in my rental, so there’s no need to hurry,” she amended. “And I know Granny will want the job done right.”

“Okay, but understand I always make sure the job’s done right.”

Their gazes collided, and Pippa gripped the edge of the seat. Oh my, he was handsome. “Of course,” she managed.

And he would. Any guy who practically had his construction updates automated to deliver at precisely noon every Friday did not seem like the type who would take shortcuts.

Logan shut off the engine and pocketed the keys. “Before we go in, there are a couple of things you need to know. First, be careful where you walk. The building’s solid as a rock, but that doesn’t mean the floor doesn’t have some soft spots. I don’t want you ending up on the first floor by any way but the stairs, got it?”

Pippa nodded as she exited the Jeep. “Got it.”

“And you’re not exactly wearing safety shoes, so watch out for nails. Some of the demo has already been done, so just—”

“Be careful,” she said along with him. “I will. And for the record, I’ve done a little construction work in my time, so I’m pretty good at avoiding on-the-job injuries.”

By the sound of his chuckle, Logan apparently did not realize she was serious. Maybe someday she would take him down to the R10:14 to show him how she and a few others turned the empty warehouse into a haven for skateboarders and in-line skaters. She’d certainly pounded her share of nails and gained almost as many bruises and splinters in the completion of what the kids liked to call phase one of the park.

“And for the record, I do own a pair of safety shoes,” she said just as Logan closed the door.

Granny had insisted once she spied the warehouse and the work that Pippa would be doing. As a compromise, however, Pippa had allowed one of the kids to customize the ugly black boots. An expert at tagging whose efforts were now confined to the interior of R10:14 thanks to a brush with the law, one of the skaters—a fellow named Rico—had worked his magic with spray paint to give her a stunning pair of boots with her nickname emblazoned on them. She still wore them sometimes, though the need had long since passed.

Logan met her on the curb, then led the way. The redbrick facade had been scrubbed clean, and the marble cornerstone that proclaimed the name of Branson’s Bakery and its opening year of 1905 now gleamed bright white.

She ran her fingertips over the carved brass plate beneath the door’s arched handle, its golden color faded and in dire need of polish. “Can you imagine how many hands have touched this over the years?”

He gave her an appreciative smile as he brushed past her to unlock the door. “Come on,” Logan said, and gestured toward the murky shadows of the area that had once been the bakery’s showroom.

Though Pippa had walked through the building with Granny on several occasions, she’d not been inside since the renovation work began last week. After the crew had removed the awful acoustic tiles that were added some fifty years ago, the ceiling was twice the height of the rooms upstairs, giving the space an expansive feel.

“Kept the heat up near the roof,” Logan said as he brushed past her. “The tall ceilings down here, that is.” He walked over to the staircase and looked up. “Too bad the apartment upstairs doesn’t have these ceilings. Guess Mr. Branson didn’t much care if Mrs. Branson stayed cool in the summer.”

“It was likely that Mrs. Branson was down here working alongside her husband,” Pippa remarked.

“You could be right,” Logan said with a nod as he turned his attention toward the stairs.

While Logan studied the sturdiness of the staircase, Pippa turned around to see stripes of sunlight slanting through the dust-streaked window and racing across the worn wooden floors. Closing her eyes, she could imagine what it would have looked like new in 1905. And what it might look like again in a few months.

She opened her eyes to spy Logan looking at her. He’d draped his arm over the banister, his palm resting on the ornate newel post. “If I’d realized I’d be showing this to you today, I would have brought the preliminary drawings. After you see my idea, I’ll make any updates you think would be acceptable and email the documents.”

“That would be perfect,” she said. “But for now, just tell me what you’re thinking for this space.”

Logan stepped into a shaft of sunlight and smiled. “All right, I guess we can see well enough. Over there,” he said, gesturing to the far corner of the room, “is where I thought we would put the cashier’s counter.”

Pippa followed the direction of his gaze and nodded. As Logan continued his explanation, her attention drifted from the room in which they stood to the man who would transform it. From his sun-streaked hair to the tanned and muscled forearms showing beneath the rolled-up sleeve of his dress shirt, time had been kind to the kid who’d disappeared from Vine Beach High a year after Pippa arrived. Just about the same time her confidence in ever fitting in fled, as well.

“Pippa, are you coming?”

“Oh, sorry,” she said as she hurried to follow Logan toward the once-grand staircase that snaked up the brick wall with sagging risers and more than a few missing spindles.

“I checked and it’s sturdy, but step carefully,” he reminded her.

Emerging onto the second-floor landing, Pippa could see demolition work had begun here, as well. Though the hardwood floor, in need of a new coat of varnish, had only been covered with paper, most of the walls were now stripped to the studs.

The difference in the amount of light and the feeling of openness was remarkable, especially in the spot she had designated as her reading corner. With a view of the beach at the far end of Main Street, the corner would have a window seat fitted neatly into a bookshelf. It was something she had dreamed of since reading A Little Princess and imagining what it might be like living in an attic room with dormer windows. While these were not dormers, they would do.

“Like it?” Logan asked, a pleased expression on his face.

“I love it,” she said. “You were right about knocking down these walls.”

“I hope you’ll think that about what I brought you here to see.” He nodded toward a door at the opposite end of the hall. “Come with me.”

“To the attic? What’s up there?” she asked, though she trailed behind him.

Logan paused halfway up the stairs to glance over his shoulder. “Just wait and see.”

At the top of the stairs, he reached for a flashlight left hanging on the rafter. “Stay close behind me,” he warned, “and don’t walk anywhere but on these beams.” He gestured to the large expanses of lumber that crisscrossed the open flooring. “Ready?”

At her nod, Logan set off. She followed a step behind. Up here the air was thick with the scent of neglect, punctuated with a musty smell that made Pippa sneeze.

He reached back to steady her. “Can’t have you falling through the ceiling and landing on a perfectly good floor. Might crack the boards.”

His brow rose as he waited for her giggle. Instead she sneezed again, then offered a smile. “I’m fine. Keep going,” she said as she fell back into step behind him.

Logan led her to the window on the easternmost side of the attic. “This is the part that’s going to take some imagination.” He lifted the window sash and instantly fresh salty sea air replaced the century-old smells. “I should have asked before I brought you up here.” He met her gaze. “Are you afraid of heights?”

“You’ve never seen me on the half-pipe,” she said as she thought of the last time she’d skateboarded on the giant structure in the back of the warehouse.

Apparently Logan hadn’t heard of a half-pipe. Or maybe he just couldn’t imagine her on one. Either way, his expression remained blank.

“The answer would be no, I’m not,” she added.

A nod, and Logan reached outside the window to lean to the right. “This is the fire escape. The ladder’s completely safe. Even the fire marshal agrees.”

Logan’s mention of Ryan Owen, Vine Beach’s fire marshal, reminded Pippa that she needed to stop by and pick up the check for the specially designed Bibles he and Leah were donating to next Saturday’s skating event at R10:14.

“Pippa?” He looked down at her feet. “You’re probably going to need to kick off those sandals for this. Construction debris won’t be a problem where we’re going.”

Putting aside thoughts of tomorrow, she shrugged. “And where is that, dare I ask?”

His grin was immediate. “The roof.”

Pippa did as he asked, then watched as he slipped out the window and onto the fire escape. The breeze that she’d smelled inside now whipped against her as she gripped the warm metal handles of the ladder.

At the top of the stairs, Logan offered her his hand and she took it. “Turn around.”

She did and then gasped. From where she stood, she could see all of Vine Beach. From the lighthouse and marina to the high school and the farmland beyond, the expansive vista was astonishing.

“Oh, Logan. It’s beautiful.” Her eyes caught the sharp drop-off at the edge of the building and her stomach did a flip-flop. “Kind of dangerous, though, don’t you think?”

“As it is now, I wouldn’t recommend spending time up here,” he said. “If I were to put up a rail over there and bring up a staircase through an entrance in the roof over there with planters circling the perimeter, I could make this a nice rooftop deck. Minus the satellite dish, which really ought to be taken down.” He paused and seemed to be waiting for her opinion.

Pippa took it all in, the ideas, the view and the enthusiasm of the man beside her. “Yes,” she agreed as her gaze fixed on a familiar sight—the roof of the warehouse that housed R10:14. “I like it, but I wonder if just a deck is enough.” She tore her attention away from the warehouse and fixed it on Logan. “What about some sort of arbor? Or trellis? Something to shade part of the roof from the sun. If we’re going to do this I’d really like it to look more like an oasis than just a plain deck.”

Logan’s grin was slow but worth the wait. “Definitely,” he said. “I can draw something up, but every project you add will take extra time.”

She gave the area another sweeping glance. “Take all the time you need, Logan,” she said. “I’m in no hurry at all.”

“Are you sure your grandmother will go for this extra expense? Not only are we talking about more time and materials, but there are also the costs for getting the blueprints altered. Then there will be another trip before the city council to get everything approved.” He shrugged. “The only good part is that so far the building has not been claimed by the historical commission. If that were to happen before we turned in the plans, everything would take much longer.”

Pippa contemplated asking how to get the building put under consideration by the commission and then decided it might be too obvious. “Leave Granny to me,” she said instead. “Just get busy planning something amazing.”

“Amazing,” Logan echoed. “Got it. And you’re sure you don’t mind the extra time this thing will take?”

“Absolutely certain.” Pippa grinned and then realized Logan was watching. “You’re wondering why I’m happy about a delay?”

A lift of his shoulder and he met her gaze. “I never ask a woman what she’s thinking.”

Chapter Three

Logan waited for her smile and was rewarded by laughter instead. “So,” Pippa said as she swept an errant strand of hair back over her ear, “how exactly does a guy make the career change from missionary to carpenter?”

“Involuntarily” slipped out of his mouth before he realized what he said.

That got her attention. Logan stifled a groan as he waited for the barrage of questions that usually came along with any admission of what he had once done and what now occupied his days.

“Yes, I suppose that happens, doesn’t it? But then the Lord tells us our plans won’t always be His,” she said instead.

How many times had he heard that one? Or the statement about how everything happened for a reason? That one usually had him wanting to demand just what reason a loving God might have for taking the life of a woman whose only crime had been to listen to him when he insisted that she be on the flight that day.

Of course, he’d never actually said those things or responded to any of the other comments of those who were so sure of God’s good plans. Nor would he say them now. Only a few of his closest friends, fellow widowers at the church’s Starting Over group, had heard any of them.

“Granny says your missions work has to do with kids.”

Logan thought of the orphanage, of the little ones and teenagers he hadn’t seen in more than three years. Some would be grown by now, others likely unrecognizable from the babies and toddlers they once were. “Yes, it did.”

“Did? As in the past, then?”

Logan recalled the planes he and his wife had ridden, skimming the treetops before dropping down for a landing that almost instantly had them surrounded by happy and eager young faces. Resolutely he pushed away the image. “Yes.”

Pippa turned to face the beach and then lifted her hand to shade her eyes. “Oh?” she said almost as an afterthought. “Would it be prying to ask why you’re not involved in anything like that now?”

It would, but he told her anyway. “I’ve got obligations in Vine Beach to see to first.”

She glanced over her shoulder to meet his gaze. “And then what will you do?”

Go back to Zambia. That’s where he’d left his heart. And yet the longer he was away, the less he felt the Lord leading him back.

The truth was, for the first time since he gave his life to Christ, Logan had no idea what God wanted him to do after his late wife’s property was sold and the money distributed. So until He gave other instructions, Logan intended to put all his effort into making that sale happen.

Pippa must have sensed he had no answer, or perhaps she realized he did not want to reply. Whatever the reason, she offered a wry smile and then nodded toward the spot where the satellite dish lay askew. “So, tell me more about your thoughts on a covering for the deck portion of the roof. Is that possible up there or would the wind make a structure like that a bad idea?”

And so it went, a smooth transition from the uncomfortable to the comfortable. Only later when Logan had deposited Pippa at her grandmother’s doorstep did he wonder if she had managed that transition on purpose or by accident.

“Thank you for taking the time to show me your idea,” she said as she climbed from the Jeep, her hand still on the door handle. “You probably noticed I like it very much.”

And I like you.

The words came so close to the tip of his tongue that he actually bit down on his lower lip to keep from speaking. He glanced beyond her to where several people were loading catering equipment into the back of a Pop’s Seafood Shack truck.

“Thank you for missing out on the party to come along and see it firsthand.”

Her laughter caught his attention. The wind had whipped strands of her very proper do into a more casual style. In the waning light from the afternoon sun, Pippa Gallagher looked absolutely stunning. When she smiled and offered a goodbye, Logan found himself wishing he could stay just a few minutes longer.

“So I’ll see you at the meeting next week,” she said as she closed the door.

“Wednesday morning. Ten sharp,” Logan said through the open window. “And I’ll have the preliminary sketches to you by Monday afternoon.”

Pippa rested her hand on the car door and leaned slightly forward to meet his gaze. “I would hate to be responsible for making anyone work on what is supposed to be a beautiful spring weekend.”

Logan shrugged. “Nothing better to do.”

“No?” she said. “You don’t happen to skateboard, do you?”

“Nope. I prefer to keep my adventure to the water.” At her confused look, he said, “Surfing.”

“Oh. Well, surfing and skateboarding aren’t much different. You balance on a board either way.” Pippa tucked a golden strand behind her ear and, for the first time, he noticed she wore tiny pearl earrings.

“Different enough.”

Logan thought of the surfboard he was working on in his garage, the one he’d probably sell as soon as the property issue was settled. If he worked quickly enough and the weather cooperated, he might get a few decent days of surfing from it before it was gone.

“You sure you don’t want to give it a try? I’ve got this thing Saturday and I...” Pippa shook her head. “Your expression speaks for itself.”

“Does it?”

A nod. “You’re frowning, Logan.”

“Oh, well...” He forced a smile. “How’s that?” he said while trying to keep his grin in place.

“Worse.” A warm wind ruffled the palms standing sentry on either side of the gate. “However, since you ignored my little incident with the umbrella, I’ll pretend otherwise.”

He patted his front pocket where the second paper umbrella still resided, and Pippa laughed. In the distance, a gull shrieked. She looked up to spy the white bird circle and then dive out of sight behind the house.

“Thanks for saving me from the speeches,” Pippa said when she turned back toward Logan. She seemed to study him for a moment.

“I get points for that, right?” he called.

“Yes, but you lose them for not being brave enough to try a skateboard.” She gave him a suspicious look. “Or have you changed your mind?”

Logan shifted the Jeep into Reverse. “Never.”

And yet as he drove away, Logan couldn’t help thinking if anyone could convince him to get on a skateboard, it would be Pippa Gallagher.

* * *

“Pippa, darling?”

Taking the phone off speaker, Pippa rose to close the door to the storage-closet-sized office she had claimed for her own at the skate park. Outside, the afternoon shadows were lengthening, but with the first-ever skating competition being held Saturday, there were too many details yet to handle.

Since Pippa had been forced to stay, she allowed those few kids who had nowhere else to go on a Tuesday night to stay, as well. They were now having a grand time on the ramps while she struggled to hear her grandmother. The door muffled the noise to an acceptable level.

“Yes, Granny. Sorry, I’m at the park and the kids are making noise. Are you back from visiting Aunt Betsy?” She returned to the squeaky chair and ancient metal desk that the previous owners had left.

“Why are you at the skate park so late?”

“Just tying up some loose ends. The outreach is Saturday, although the kids would rather call it a skating competition.” Pippa leaned back and rested her head against the cinder block wall. “Anyway, everything all right with Aunt Betsy?”

“Everything is wonderful,” she said. “I’m having such a great time that I’ve decided to stay here in Dallas an extra week. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind? No, of course not.”

“Will you let our contractor know? His is the only appointment I’ve not yet canceled. I thought perhaps you could tell him yourself, what with the familiarity I saw between you at the reception last Saturday.” A well-timed pause. “Interesting that the two of you left at exactly the same time. The speeches had barely begun.”

There it was. The reprimand she expected. Or at least the beginning of it.

“Yes, Granny, about that. I do apologize.”

“Do you?” Before Pippa could respond, Granny continued. “Well, we can discuss that when I return. Will you just please let our Logan know we’re rescheduling?”

“I will,” she said. “Would you like me to have him email the plans to you so you can look at them before next week?”

“Oh, goodness no. I’ve got a great-grandbaby to play with. Why in the world would I want to look at construction drawings? And besides, I prefer old-fashioned blueprints I can touch to some silly nonsense on a computer screen.”

“Then I’ll have him overnight the blueprints. That way you can study them.”

“Have you not heard a word I’ve been saying, Pippa? Just handle things until I get back. Make all the decisions you want. It’s going to be your home.”

“And your gallery,” Pippa reminded her.

“Yes, of course,” Granny said, “but Gallagher and Company is hardly the reason for this renovation. It’s just a very nice benefit of the project.”

“Oh? What is the reason if not to build a gallery for your art?”

“Sorry, darling. I really must go. Bye now.”

And then she was gone.

Pippa opened her laptop and sent a quick email to Logan canceling tomorrow’s meeting and rescheduling for the following Wednesday, then went back to putting together the skating competition.

A half hour later, she closed her computer, tucked it into her bag, then turned off the lights and locked the office. “Time to go,” she called to the three skaters who remained. And then, “Anyone need a ride?”

They all did, of course, but asking them was a formality she allowed, as was the stop she made at the Hamburger Hut. At least she would know these three got home safely and had a large if not completely healthy meal.

“Invite everyone to the competition,” she said as she turned down the street where all three lived.

“What if you can’t pay?” the youngest of the group asked.

“Not a problem,” Pippa said. “Anybody who can’t come up with the entry fee can do some work for me around the skate park to earn the money.”

That perked up all three, and soon they were chattering about decks and wheels and other skating essentials. When Pippa had dropped off the last of the trio at his door, she was still smiling.

If every kid had to work off his fee, she would still hold the event. The Lord would provide. It was just that simple.

Her route back to the rented cabin took Pippa past the building where she would soon be living. The windows were dark, indicating the work for today had ceased. A few minutes later she arrived home. The sound of the waves breaking against the shore filled her ears as Pippa grabbed her bag and headed up the stairs to the front door. Pausing on the deck, she placed her bag at her feet and then walked over to the rail to look out at the ocean.

The sun had dipped close to the horizon, but there was still plenty of daylight left. To her right, the wide sweep of beach ended at the marina where sailboats rocked at anchor. On the left, the neon lights of Pop’s Seafood Shack twinkled in the distance. In between, the sand shimmered as the water lapped at the beach and then quickly retreated.

Pippa inhaled deeply of the fresh salt air and then let her breath out slowly. Of all the things she missed about her life prior to coming to work for Granny, living in the city was not among them. Nor was the lack of fresh seafood or the ability to take a long run down the beach whenever she wanted.

And right now she decided that’s exactly what she wanted.

Ten minutes later, Pippa had changed clothes and laced up her running shoes. She headed toward the marina at a slow pace, picking up speed as she neared the docks, and then turned around and retraced her steps toward the cabin. Instead of stopping, she kept going in the direction of Pop’s Seafood Shack. If Leah was there, perhaps her friend would have time to share a slice of pie back in the kitchen. If not, then a piece of pie to go would do the trick.

Pippa took her customary route up the back stairs and into the kitchen with renewed vigor. It had been too long since she paid Leah a visit here. Unfortunately her friend was out.

“Leah’s taking the night off,” the cook told her. “You want the usual?”

“No catfish for me tonight,” she said. “But I would like a slice of apple pie to go, if it’s not too much trouble.”

A few minutes later, she paid for the pie and headed back down the stairs. She had almost reached the deck when someone called her name.

Logan. She turned to face her building contractor. He, too, appeared to be carrying a slice of pie.

“Great minds think alike,” he quipped as he closed the distance between them. “Did you come for the pie, too?”

“I had hoped for conversation and pie, but Leah’s not here.” Pippa nodded toward the take-out container in her hand. “So it’s just pie.”

“Want some conversation to go with it?”

“Sure,” she said as she followed him over to the deck. “I wasn’t expecting anyone but Leah to see me, so please excuse my choice of outfit.”

He laughed. “I just figured you had decided to run off your meal before you ate it.”

Logan settled at the edge of the deck, his feet in the sand, and Pippa joined him. Instantly several seagulls went on alert, hovering overhead and then coming to roost on the rail nearby. Pippa ignored them, just as she did every morning when she drank her coffee on the cabin’s front porch, and dug her heels into the sand.

“You know, maybe there is something to this running first and eating pie later philosophy,” Logan said as he reached for the plastic fork inside the container.

“Maybe so.” They fell into companionable silence until Pippa decided to ask a question that had been bothering her. “So, Logan, you said something at my grandmother’s party that has me confused.”

He glanced at her. “What’s that?”

“You said something about seeing kids up to no good. What did you mean by that?”

His attention went to the fork in his hand. Slowly he set it aside and then regarded Pippa with a serious look. “I’m not completely sure what you’re asking.”

“Well,” she said slowly, “since I work with kids who aren’t always considered socially acceptable, I’m wondering whether you were making that determination about the kids based on how they looked.”

Logan seemed to consider the question a moment. Then he shrugged. “Partly. I think. If I remember right, the rest of what I said was that they reminded me of myself at that age.” Logan reached for the fork again and then seemed to think better of it. “I wasn’t exactly socially acceptable, either.”

“I see.”

“You sound disappointed in me.”

In a way, she was. She let her silence speak for her.

“Look,” he said gently. “I saw a lot of things in Africa what weren’t pleasant, but what I did see was the family unit taking care of its own. We’ve lost that here. Kids roam the street and there’s little anyone can do. Or maybe little they will do. At least until the kids have gotten in enough trouble for the authorities to intervene. I would like to stop that cycle.”

“So would I.” Pippa warmed to the topic. “That’s why I’m so passionate about the skating outreach. These kids are outcasts, or at least they look like it, and they need a place to go so they’re off the streets.”

“I don’t think that would have worked for me, so I’m not sure I can agree with your method.”

“I see.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And what would you suggest?”

“Rules, for a start. Some sort of order in their lives. Maybe a good talking-to or at least some incentive to stop hanging around doing nothing. I guess you could say I advocate a more direct approach between outcast and productive member of society.”

Oh.

Pippa opened her mouth to argue and then decided taking a bite of pie was the better course of action. Obviously Logan’s opinions and hers were in direct opposition.

He met her gaze. The man was attractive, even if he was completely wrong about the best way to win wayward souls to the Lord. “You don’t like my approach.”

“It doesn’t matter whether I like it,” she said. “I will say I disagree.”

Logan nodded. “All right. But you need to understand I’m thinking about what’s best for these kids. And considering I was one of them, I think I know what I’m talking about.”

He was wrong, of course, but for the sake of continuing the discussion, she decided to attempt a different argument. “All right, just one more thing.” Pippa mustered a smile. “I’m ready to prove you wrong.”

“Are you, now?” Logan seemed to think on that. “Considering we’re both wanting the same result for these kids, I hope you’re right. In the meantime, I’ll leave the skating to you and I’ll stick to building construction.”

This time her smile was genuine. “It’s a deal. Though you have an open invitation to come and see what we’re doing down there.”

Logan closed the pie container, his dessert now gone. “I’ll consider it,” he said. “Now what say I walk you home?”

She rose to toss the remains of her pie into the trash can nearby. “Thanks, but after eating this, I probably ought to run back, too.” Pippa smiled once more. “Oh, and consider this a formal invitation to come skate with me. Meet me at the building on Saturday at eight-thirty and we’ll drive over together.”

Pippa turned and headed off toward her cabin at a slow jog before he could respond.

“Hey,” Logan called. “I never said I was coming. I just said I was thinking about it!”

Pippa picked up her pace and didn’t look back until she reached the cabin. As she climbed the stairs, she glanced at the restaurant to see that Logan was still standing on the beach.

A moment later, her phone rang. Logan.

“Wondering what to wear?” she asked.

His laughter was deep and swift. “Hardly. I was wondering if I could strike a deal.”

She leaned against the deck rail. “What kind of deal is that?”

“I’ll skate with you if you’ll surf with me.”

“So skating on Saturday?”

“Not going to commit to that just yet.” He paused. “But only because I’ve got a contractor who’s been ditching me and I need to get him pinned down to a time he’ll be available. If it’s Saturday, then I won’t be there.”

“All right,” Pippa said. “Now, as to what to wear—I’d say any of your baggy jeans and hooded sweatshirts will work just fine.”

Logan was still laughing when she said goodbye.

Chapter Four

On Friday, Logan’s usual construction update arrived along with a spreadsheet that detailed expenses, workers’ time sheets, and other items pertinent to the project. Though Pippa was at the skate park, she opened the email and read the information it contained.

Finding everything in order, Pippa jotted off a note of thanks along with a reminder about tomorrow’s skating event. With a smile, she hit Send. To her surprise, Logan called her almost immediately.

“You’re not canceling on me,” she said in lieu of a proper greeting.

“I just wanted to ask if I needed anything besides my life insurance policy. Oh, and I’ll be sure to bring my medical insurance card, too.”

Pippa laughed. “I’ve got all the things you’ll need. Just—”

“Hey, I’m really sorry but I’m getting a call and I need to answer it. It’s the subcontractor I told you about who’s been ditching me lately, and I’d hate to miss him. I’ll call you when we’re done.”

Pippa said goodbye and set the phone down. She glanced up to see Rico Galvan, the artist who had painted her boots, standing at the door.

“Busy?”

“Come in,” she said. “I’m just going over the checklist for tomorrow.”

The teenager grinned and stepped inside, his paint-splattered coveralls telling where he’d been. For the past week, Logan had employed Rico to do demolition work, the dirty kind that removed the old in preparation for the new.

Rico had asked that Pippa not mention their association or his background at the skate ministry, and she had complied. He wanted to get the job on his own merits, something she understood completely.

“How’s the job coming along?” Pippa asked.

“It’s hard work, but I stay busy, and I like that.” He paused. “So, I wondered if maybe...”

“I might have the Bibles here?” She nodded to the oversize box next to Rico’s feet. “The delivery driver dropped them off a half hour ago.”

His face shone. “Do you think I could take a look?”

“Actually,” she said as she retrieved the scissors and walked toward him, “I hadn’t planned to open the box until we could see them together.” She handed him the scissors. “Here, Rico. You do the honors.”

Made specially for the skating outreach and competition, these copies of the New Testament bore a cover created to look like the graffiti designs that Rico had painted on the outside of the skate park. A skater’s Bible, one Pippa hoped she could someday afford to reprint and continue to give out as part of the ministry. Thanks to Leah and Ryan’s donation, they would have enough for tomorrow, and that’s what counted for now.

Rico made quick work of opening the box and then moved the brown paper aside to reveal a stack of copies. A low whistle was his only response. And then he reached in and took one out, cradling it first in his palm and then against his chest.

When he looked up, his eyes glistened with tears. “I can’t believe it.”

Pippa reached to hug him and then stepped back. “I’m very proud of them. And of you.”

The quiet young man could only nod.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then. Nine o’clock?”

Struggling to keep his emotions in check, Rico choked out a quick reply and turned to leave. Pippa watched him go. She was still watching him when her cell phone rang, drawing her back to her desk.

“I’m sorry I had to hang up so quickly.” Logan gave her a brief description of his call with the subcontractor and then paused. “Pippa, about tomorrow...I’m going to have to take a rain check.”

Pippa let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Oh?”

“This subcontractor’s the best in the business when it comes to restoring old brick, and your building needs a lot of work. He’s agreed to do it, but only if I meet him tomorrow to go over the specifics and supervise his guys.”

“I understand,” she said as she felt a small measure of relief. “And yes, you can definitely have a rain check.”

“You could always drop by and say hello. If the job entails what I think it does, it’s going to take most of the day.”

She paused only a second. “I can’t promise but I will see what I can do.”

“Oh?” Logan laughed. “That was fast. I only just canceled and you’ve already got plans.”

“Actually, we had plans. I was going to get you on a skateboard, remember?”

“Well,” he said slowly, “you were going to try.”

“Oh no, mister,” Pippa said with mock seriousness. “If I can get out there with the kids, then I expect you to do the same. I thought you understood that I was inviting you to an outreach and not just for the two of us to skate. Remember, I told you I would show you that you were wrong. I can’t do that without showing you what we do, now, can I?”

“I guess not. So our plans were to skate with kids?” Logan paused as the sound of hammering began. “Sorry, just stepped inside and it’s loud in here. Hold on a sec.” A door opened and then closed, and the hammering instantly ceased. “All right. Now, start over. I’m confused.”

“The outreach ministry where I volunteer is having an event tomorrow. The kids are calling it a skating competition, but I prefer to think of it as an opportunity to hand out specially designed Bibles that match our graffiti logo. And to skate, of course.”

“Of course.”

She couldn’t miss the less than enthusiastic tone in his voice. “Something wrong, Logan?”

Silence.

“Logan?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said. “Look, I know this ministry means something to you. I mean, it must for you to volunteer your time. But I drove by there yesterday. It’s the warehouse over on State Street, right? The one covered in gang graffiti?”

She didn’t like his tone or his insinuation. “That’s street art, and it’s our logo. Taken from Romans 10:14.” And painted by your employee, Rico, she longed to add. “Why?”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Pippa. The warehouse is hurting the value of the neighborhood. Do you have plans to cover that ‘street art’ any time soon?”

Well, that did it. Still, she kept her cool. After all, this was the man she had hired to turn Granny’s dreams into reality. For all she wished to tell him about his opinions of Rico’s art, her need to do so was tempered by the fact that Granny had the greatest respect for Logan.

“The art stays,” she said. “And I hardly see how anything could bring down the value of that neighborhood. Other than the abandoned machine shop next door, the rest of the block is filled with empty lots and buildings that are in dire need of being torn down.”

“Exactly,” Logan answered, “and that’s just what the guys from Starting Over are doing in a few weeks. Tearing down the dangerous buildings that the city owns but can’t afford to pay to have demolished and painting over the ones that need work.”

“That’s great,” she said. “I’m sure some of the kids would like to help with the cleanup. If I can get permission from their parents, that is. But the logo stays.”

Silence.

“Logan?”

“I’m here.”

She leaned back against the chair and let out a long breath. “Look, I thought we agreed to disagree.”

“We did,” he said evenly. “But this is different. That machine shop next door?”

“Yes.”

“I’m the one trying to sell it, Pippa. And that’s not going to happen as long as any potential buyers think the shop sits next to a gang hideout.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she snapped.

“Well, maybe so, but I guess that’s just one more thing we will have to agree to disagree about. And should you change your mind...”

“Go on,” she said instead of snapping back at him.

“Well,” he said in a surprisingly kind tone. “I understand that to the kids this is art. Or rather street art. I really do. But please understand what I’m saying, too. The For Sale sign has been up over a month and I’ve only had one person inquire. Nobody wants to buy property in the wrong neighborhood. And—”

“And you think we give that impression.” When he said nothing, Pippa felt compelled to continue. “I disagree, Logan. However, I would love to help any way I can with the cleanup. Who is in charge?”

“That would be me.”

“Oh.” Pippa forced a hopeful tone into her voice. “Well, good. Then count me in. I’ll bring friends. The more the merrier, right?”

She couldn’t help thinking as she hung up that Logan’s enthusiasm was sorely missing. Well, no matter. She and the R10:14 kids would do their part to clean up their neighborhood. Then Logan would see the value in what happened behind the brightly painted exterior walls.

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