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Dave Sisko heard the dull thunk and the yelp of pain almost simultaneously. He shoved the handle of his hammer into his waistband and sprinted around the corner. The old wooden fence they were rebuilding as part of Harrison’s annual Christmas-in-April project leaned in a dozen crazy directions and forced him to zigzag accordingly.
He pulled up at the sight of a slender young woman dressed in denim capris and a plain red T-shirt. Her straight, black hair was bundled into a long ponytail. She held the fingers of her left hand as she danced in place. Dave searched his memory for her name but came up short. This was the first day of the month-long project, and although he’d met all twelve of his volunteers this morning, it generally took him a day or so to sort them out in his head.
He took both of her hands in his. “You OK?”
She bounced on her toes. “No!”
Dave pried her fingers apart. “Let’s take a look.” He inspected her left hand and then her right. His gaze went to her face and back to her hands. He couldn’t find a single mark on the delicate skin, and as far as he could tell her manicure was unscathed. He grinned at her. “I think you’ll live.”
She yanked her hands out of his and glared at him with eyes as brown as his morning coffee. “It hurts.”
Dave couldn’t be sure, but there might have been a murmured Neanderthal tacked to the end of her comment. He took off his cap, ran a hand through his sweaty hair, and prayed for God to deliver him from beautiful, prissy females. “I’m sorry. Remind me of your name?”
“Lisa Garcia.”
“Come with me, Lisa.” Dave led her away from the scene of the accident and through a gap in the boards. When they reached the porch of the old two-story house, he opened a large ice chest and pulled out a bottle of cold water. He held it up, and when she nodded he twisted the top free and handed it to her. Then he retrieved the first aid kit he always kept on hand. Stacks of gauze, rows of tape, a box of Band-Aids, a pair of scissors, and a bottle of aspirin. Everything handy and in order. He took out an emergency ice pack, gave it a quick twist, and shook it until he felt it growing cold. It wouldn’t last long in the springtime Texas sun, but then there wasn’t much of an injury to soothe.
Lisa was standing so close behind him, he could feel her breath on his neck. The sensation did funny things to his stomach. He turned and looked at her, his eyebrows raised.
She stepped back and motioned to the kit. “Just admiring. You could triage war victims from that.” She held up a finger. “I cut myself a couple of days ago making a salad and never did find a Band-Aid, and I know I just bought a box last week.”
“It pays to be prepared.” He held out the ice pack. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” Lisa sat on the steps, put her bottle on the porch, and held the cold pack to her fingers. “Much better.” She patted the space beside her. “Take a break with me?”
Dave looked at the fence. The waiting work nagged at him, but he hated to be rude. Five minutes. He snagged a second bottle for himself and sat.
“It really does hurt.”
“I believe you.” He leaned back on his elbows. “I can assign you to something less dangerous if you like.”
“The fence is fine.”
He took a long drink from the bottle. “Is this your first project?”
She nodded and continued to nurse her invisible wound.
“You live in Harrison?”
Lisa snorted. “Unfortunately.”
He crossed his ankles. “You don’t like it?”
Lisa laid the ice pack aside, mirrored his pose, and stared into space. “This place is the pimple on the right butt cheek of Podunk towns.”
“That’s harsh.”
“Not harsh enough most days,” she said.
“How did you end up in a place you dislike so much?”
“It wasn’t my idea. Mom has an old school friend here. We came for a visit after Dad died, and Mom decided she liked small-town life.” Lisa sighed. “Mom’s the spur-of-the-moment sort, more so now that she’s on her own. I didn’t like her decision, but I figured I could live with it for a few months...you know, until the wind blew one of us in a different direction. But six months later we’re still here. She keeps telling me I’ll get used to it, but I miss Los Angeles. Sorry if that insults you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t live in Harrison. I live across the bridge in Yellow Veil.”
She turned her head a fraction and looked at him from the corner of her eye. “The pimple on the left.” But she was smiling.
He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. Get a grip, Sisko. “You work?”
She shook her head. “Not right now. Dad’s insurance was substantial, so I’m taking some time off from school to see Mom settled. I’ll have to make a decision before the fall, but for now...it feels nice to just go with the flow.”
Dave nodded his approval, knowing full well that living like that would drive him crazy. He needed structure.
“What do you do in Yellow Veil?” she asked.
“Oh, I stay busy. I work, part time, in an insurance office.”
“That sounds interesting.”
“It has its moments, but my other job is where the action really is.”
“And that is?”
“For now, I’m the youth pastor at Abundant Life Church.”
“For now?”
“Well, no one’s a youth pastor forever. It’s a training ground.”
Something hardened in her eyes. “What are you training for?”
“Full-time ministry. I’ll pastor someday.” He chuckled. “With a name like David Elijah Sisko, I figure that’s a good thing.”
Lisa scrambled to her feet. “I better get back to that fence.”
Dave sat up. What got into her? “How’s the hand?”
“Great.” The word and the smile were tight.
“Are you OK?”
“Fine.”
Dave got to his feet and watched her go, hands fisted on his hips. He could speak female with the best, and he knew that when a woman said she was fine, she was anything but.
***
LISA WENT BACK TO WORK pulling the old boards from the framework of the fence. She got the occasional glimpse of Dave as the day wore on. He seemed to be everywhere, holding a ladder here, offering a quick piece of advice there, and passing out water to all as the temperature climbed. He did it all with a ready smile and a steady focus that made the recipient feel like they were the center of his universe for a few seconds.
She glanced at the invisible injury to her hand, convinced that she could still feel his hands on hers. Lisa was honest enough to admit to herself that she’d played that up a bit when he’d come to her rescue, taking full advantage of the opportunity to get to know their ruggedly handsome leader.
Another board came free with a screech of rusted nails, and Lisa saw Dave glance her way from under the brim of his worn baseball cap. For just a second, he studied her with those amazing blue eyes before he went back to work.
Lisa forced herself back to her job. Ignoring David Elijah Sisko wouldn’t be easy, but Lisa planned to work at it because now she knew all there was to know. The very last thing she needed in her life right now was someone with aspirations to the ministry. Especially when that someone had a scruffy jawline, a mouth that begged kissing, and the power to unleash hordes of butterflies in her stomach.
She stacked the board with the others she’d liberated. Not going there. Not today, not ever! She straightened and wiped beads of perspiration from her forehead, grateful when a cloud blotted out the glare of the sun for a few seconds. Lisa looked up, addressing her Heavenly Father. It’s got nothing to do with You, Father. You know I love You, but... She closed her eyes and remembered another earnest face and charismatic personality. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.
“OK everyone,” Dave called from the front of the house. “Let’s wrap it up for today. Can I get everyone over here for a second? We need to talk about next week.”
Lisa followed the rest of the volunteers to the porch. Dave stood next to the rail, a tray piled high with some kind of goodies in one hand, his free arm around the shoulders of a slight, elderly woman.
“I want you all to meet Mrs. Craig.”
Mrs. Craig raised a shaky hand and nodded to the group gathered around the steps. Dave turned her and led her to a weathered rocker with a faded plaid cushion. Once she was seated, he returned to his spot on the porch and hefted the tray. “While you guys were working, Mrs. Craig baked us a batch of sugar cookies.” He plucked one from the tray and bit off a healthy chunk. “They’re awesome.” Dave handed the tray to the nearest volunteer. “Pass those around, would you?” He straightened. “You guys have done a terrific job today, and I appreciate your hard work. We’ll meet again next Saturday morning at eight.”
The girl on Lisa’s left leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Isn’t he just the cutest thing? That was a pretty smooth trick you pulled with the hammer this morning. I have a turned ankle planned for next week.” The girl sighed, her gaze following Dave as he moved around on the porch. “I mean really, Hubba...hubba.”
Heat flushed Lisa’s cheeks. “I...you...what...?” She turned away, embarrassed because it was partly true, ashamed at the sudden urge to stomp on the girl’s toes, and jealous at the idea of Dave’s hands on Miss Hubba’s ankle.
How dare she...? Lisa swallowed and wrapped herself in indifference. She looked at the guy she couldn’t afford to like and leaned over to return the whisper. “Preacher boy? Honey, he’s all yours.” She watched Dave interact with a few of his straggling flock of volunteers, cringing when his infectious laugh rang from the porch, lifting the tiny hairs on the back of her neck with an emotion she refused to name.
Lisa turned in her tools and hurried to her car. She stopped when a pitiful cry reached her ears. When it came a second time—from somewhere beneath her car—she stooped to investigate.
“Oh...” Sitting next to one of her rear tires, in a position that would surely have gotten it squished, was a tiny white kitten. Lisa scooped it up, leaned against her bumper, and lifted the scrap of fur to her face. “Where did you come from?” If she were any judge, the kitty was only a few weeks old. She looked up and down the street. Surely there was a mother cat searching for her baby.
“What do you have there?”
Lisa started at the question, so preoccupied with her find she hadn’t heard Dave’s approach. She held the kitten out so he could see. “Poor baby was under my car.”
Dave touched a finger to the tiny fur-covered head and stroked it down the feline back. “Cute.”
“Do you think it belongs to Mrs. Craig?”
“I don’t think so. She mentioned being allergic to cats when we visited last week.”
“Hmm...” Lisa took another look up the street, scooted past Dave, and opened her car door.
“What are you doing?”
“I guess I just became a cat owner.”
“What? You can’t make a decision like that on the spur of the moment. You don’t have food, you don’t have a litter box—”
“Last time I checked, there was a grocery store on my way home.”
“Lisa, you don’t even know if it’s weaned.”
“What would you have me do? I can’t just leave it on the street.”
He held out his hand. “Let me have it. Yellow Veil has a shelter with an emergency drop off—”
Lisa bristled at his words, angling the kitten out of his reach. “Back off. I don’t need you to make decisions for me.”
He took a step back and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, that came out wrong. All I meant was that pets are a big responsibility. You aren’t prepared. You’re not even sure you’re staying in town.”
Lisa examined the cat.
“What are you looking for?”
“An umbilical cord that ties this animal to Harrison.”
“That’s not funny.”
“Neither was your suggestion to dump it at the pound.”
They glared at each other for several seconds. Dave lost the stare down. He raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Have fun with your new charge. I’ll see you next week.”
“Don’t count on it.” Lisa slid into her seat, slammed the door, and left Dave Sisko in the dust of her departure.