half-done after Sam’s passing. Look at this room, would you?” He got up and walked around the room, pointing out the unpainted walls and ceiling. “We got all the leaks fixed and were starting to paint when Sam had his spell.” He shook his head sadly, and Allie heard the break in his voice. “It’s a disgrace to his memory to have anybody even see the place like this.”
The two women exchanged glances, and Allie wasn’t surprised when her friend spoke up. “Well then, Mr. O’Toole, I guess we’d better get to painting,” Trudy told him in her take-charge manner. She eyed the ceiling. “A nice tall ladder will do just fine.” In a few minutes she had organized the whole project. Allie knew that she was the one responsible for redecorating all the Sunday school rooms. Trudy could wield a paintbrush roller with the best of them.
The room was rather long and narrow, and even though one of the longer walls had already been done, the challenge of painting the other three and the ceiling kept them busy through the morning.
When Dorie brought in some drinks and sandwiches, they took a brief break for lunch. She nodded her approval. “Sam picked out that color. Said it reminded him of that cluster of moss roses down by the spring.”
Pat sighed. “I was telling him, the color would show hand prints to beat the band, but he didn’t care. Crazy guy.” He turned his head away quickly as if there were something in his eye.
They had to push to finish by late afternoon, but a sense of satisfaction made their effort worthwhile. They took a few minutes to enjoy their work as soft sunlight bathed the walls in a warm glow. It had certainly been satisfying.
“Nice work, ladies,” Patrick said with a smile. “Sure and you’re a credit to the Painters’ Union.” He winked at Trudy. “If I weren’t a married man, I’d be giving you the eye, lass. I’ve got a few rooms at the house that could use your touch.”
They were all weary, but pleased with the job they’d done. Patrick started carrying out empty paint cans, and painting debris to the trash while Allie and Trudy put the room to rights.
“I’ll ask Dorie for some cleaning rags,” Trudy said, and headed for the kitchen.
A moment later, while Allie was putting some lids on some leftover paint cans, Scott came in the rec room. He took one look around at the freshly painted room with an expression of utter disbelief on his face.
Allie stood up, brushed back her hair, suddenly aware of the paint spatters on her arms, jeans and shirt. She looked a mess, but then, what did it matter? She smiled. “Looks nice, doesn’t it?”
For a moment, he looked speechless. Then he swore, “What in blazes! Why on earth did you put in all this work, painting this room?”
She looked at him, stunned and dumbfounded. What was he so angry about?
“Is this some kind of subtle trick you’re playing?” he lashed out.
“Trick?”
“Whatever you’re trying to pull off, it won’t work,” he warred her. “You can’t make me change my mind, Allie.”
“I’m not trying to make you change your mind.”
“Good, because I’ve just made arrangements for this building to be pulled down in three weeks.”
Chapter Three
Scott struggled against a wave of exasperation. He was caught between trying to get things ready for the campers, while at the same time initiating a schedule to level the area and clear the property for potential buyers. Agreeing to open the camp had been a bad idea in the beginning, and it was getting worse by the minute.
Allie looked exhausted, tense and angry with him for challenging the decision to paint the room. On the defensive, he said, “I wished you’d asked me about it before putting in all this work.”
With a determined lift to her head, she replied firmly, “It was important to Pat that we finish the job your father started before he died. Patrick knew Sam wouldn’t want people in here with rain-stained walls even if this is the last time the room is to be used.”
Scott silently fumed. It was just like her and Patrick to bring his father into the matter. They’d made their feelings clear enough, but it was the height of folly for them to spruce up the place. “Well, what’s done is done.”
In a moment of weighted silence that followed, Trudy came in with a broom and cleaning rags, and seeing Scott, started bragging about the job they’d done.
“Are we painters, or are we painters?” she challenged, grinning. “I just may give up my job working in my dad’s restaurant, and find me a new career.”
Her light banter fell flat. Allie’s posture was stiff, and tension radiated from her jutting chin. Scott avoided eye contact with both of the women.
When neither Allie nor Scott returned Trudy’s smile, her expression changed to one of puzzlement. “What gives? Did I miss something?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Allie said. She reached out and took the broom from Trudy, and started sweeping. “As soon as we get this room cleaned up, we ought to check out one of the cabins and get settled. I don’t suppose it matters which one.”
“I think the first cabin is ready. I just checked to make sure you had bedding and firewood,” Scott said crisply. He ignored Allie, who had her back to him as she swept the floor. He recognized a cold shoulder when he got one, and directed his comments to Trudy. “I think everything’s in order for the couple of nights you’ll be here.”
“Thanks,” Trudy answered. “We’ll be ready for a hot bath, won’t we, Allie?” A slight nod was all she got as Allie gave her attention to picking up some drop cloths.
“I’d invite you to put up at the house, but it’s a mess,” Scott said in an apologetic tone. “I’m trying to get everything sorted and moved out. I don’t think Dad threw away anything all the years he’d been here. He’s got so much worthless stuff packed away that I’m tempted to just bag and dump it.”
“That must be a challenge,” Trudy said sympathetically, doing her best to keep the conversation moving along compatible lines. “I’d sure hate to have the job of cleaning out my folk’s house. Every cupboard and closet is packed with stuff.”
“I’ve arranged for some book buyers, and secondhand store people to look things over. What they don’t take, I’ll have to haul away.” Scott wished he could just walk away from the whole thing. Maybe his mother was right. He should have stayed in California and handled everything long distance. Too late now, he chided himself. His hands were tied for another two weeks. He owed it to Pat and Dorie to stick around until the church camp was over.
“I love old stuff,” Trudy told him. Her large brown eyes sparkled. “Can I have a look-see before you get rid of all of it?”
Scott looked surprised. “Sure, be my guest. I have to warn you that most of the stuff is worn-out and wasn’t worth much when it was new.”
“You never can tell,” Trudy said with her usual optimism. “There might be a treasure amidst all the junk.”
“If there is, you’re welcome to it.” He gave one last look around
