of that, do you have a Web site? You need one, you know, to attract customers.”
Stella backed up, stared at him. “You sure move fast.”
Adam thought he’d been standing still long enough. Or at least it felt that way now that he had something to focus on. The house, he reminded himself, not the woman. “Just trying to get things lined up. I mean, if you still want me to stay and help you out.”
“Oh, I’d like that, but I don’t have the money for a major renovation. I’ll just be happy that all the shutters are stable and secure again.”
He nodded, then looked down at his work boots. “When I get my mind set on a thing, I can be a steamroller at times.”
She looked skeptical and full of wonder, as if she wished she could figure him out. “Really now?”
He grinned at the teasing light in her eyes. “Okay, I can be a real pain at times. But that’s just my nature. I like to stay busy and I like things in order.”
Stella put a hand in the air. “We might be in trouble then. I’m slow and steady and I used to be efficient and organized. But I’m still learning this business.” Then she looked out toward the wisteria wrapping around the garage. “Of course, that’s why you found me burning muffins the other day. I got so overwhelmed, I let things slide. Maybe I do need to be more organized, considering this place is my only livelihood now. Starting with a Web site. But one thing at a time, Callahan, okay?”
Adam took that declaration in stride. “I understand. In other words, I don’t need to be rushing you, right?”
She shrugged, glanced down at the wilted petunias by the back steps. “No, no. Somebody sure needs to set me on the right path. I know it looks bad around here, but I have every intention of getting this place back up and running. Somehow, my mother managed to make a living between the inn and her art. Of course, she did have good help.” Then she sank back down on the steps. “I’m just not quite sure how I’m gonna do that. I like all of your ideas, but I need to think them through. Make the right choices.”
“Do you have any guests booked after the festival is over?” Adam asked as he sat down beside her, then started yanking weeds away from the steps. The two loyal couples who’d stayed to endure Stella’s cooking would be checking out tomorrow.
“For the summer, you mean?”
He nodded. “That would be good, yes.”
“Nobody next week.” She looked out toward the big studio, her expression wistful. “We have a few reservations over the next few weeks. There’s always some kind of festival going on downtown.”
“Not quite as bad as I thought.”
“I told you, I’m trying.”
“I can see that. So let me help.”
“What’s in it for you?” she said, tossing her hair again, a spark of doubt flickering through her eyes. “You seem almost too good to be true. There’s got to be a catch.”
Adam let out a sigh. “No catch, and I’m not all that good. I told you, I just needed a place to—”
“To hide?” She gave him a green-eyed stare, her smile bittersweet. “You’re hiding out, right?”
Adam shook his head, deciding he’d better just level with her. “No, not exactly. Look, I worked for the New Orleans Police Department for a long time. I’ve seen things, you know. Bad things. Things that make a man question his sanity and his faith. I had to walk away.”
“Do you still have faith?”
Because the question seemed so important to her, Adam knew the answer would be, too. “I have faith, yeah. I come from a good, solid family. My daddy taught all of us to never give up on God, no matter what.”
“But your job made you doubt Him?”
“Him and everything else in life.”
She braced her elbows on her knees, put her head in her hands, then looked out toward the wisteria vines again, her smile disappearing as fast as a dandelion’s floating whiskers. “Well, take it from me, you can run but you can’t hide—from your doubts, I mean. I doubt myself and God on a daily basis. But seems to me, things just keep on coming. Right now, I’m not on very good speaking terms with the Big Man.”
“How do you keep going then?”
She smiled again, the lifting of her lips a sweet symbol of something Adam couldn’t understand. “Kyle keeps me going. I have to remember Kyle. And my daddy. I love them both so much. And they’ve both been hurt and abandoned. I have to keep the faith for their sakes, at least.” She shrugged. “In case you haven’t noticed, my son tries very hard to be the mature one around here. He needs to be a kid again, before it’s too late.”
Adam looked over at her then, taking in the deep shimmer of her hair, the defiant tilt of her chin. He wondered about her hurts, her scars and her own lost childhood. “And what about for your sake?”
She turned her head to look at him, her eyes wide with bewilderment. “I guess I’m hoping some of their luster will rub off on me. You know, faith by association. I don’t always practice what my daddy tries to preach, but it does sink in. And it sure couldn’t hurt Kyle, right?”
He laughed. “Right. Couldn’t hurt.” Then he turned serious. “If you feel uncomfortable about me being here—”
“It’s not that. It’s just…I’ve never known a man other than my daddy who was as good as his word. Certainly not my dearly departed husband. And certainly not any of the many men my mother knew—according to rumors I’d hear from her staff now and then, at least. I guess it’s not easy for me to take you at your word. And I can’t take God at His word, either. I have to see something to believe it.”
Adam could understand that notion. But he wanted her to understand him, to understand that he didn’t know how to operate, except by the principles and standards he’d learned as a child. “My word is all I’ve got right now. And you have to believe me when I say that being here right now is the best thing for me. It’s like therapy, only way less expensive.”
“After New Orleans?”
“Yes, after New Orleans.”
She gave him one of those long, big-eyed stares again, but didn’t press him for the details. “We do tend to take things in stride here. We’re a lot more relaxed than the big city. We’re as laid back as New Orleans, but in a different way.”
“I like that.” And he liked the way her vanilla-scented shampoo smelled, too, he reasoned even as he tried to resist it.
“So you won’t push too hard on getting things in order around here? You’ll let me settle into this arrangement?”
“Yes, ma’am. But only if you’re willing to let me help you get things up to speed—whatever that speed might be.”
She got up, brushed off the back of her skirt. “Okay then. Since I’m the boss, I say it’s lunchtime. C’mon in and let me feed you for your troubles.”
“That
