Chapter Three

When they pulled into the driveway, Paul followed Kate inside and wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, Katie.”

She laughed and returned his hug. “I love you too, but to what do I owe this show of affection? I thought you were in a hurry to get to the office.”

He sighed. “I am, but I just wanted to let you know how proud I am of you.”

“What for?”

“You see people’s needs, Kate. You see what has to be done, and you do it. I love that about you.”

She reached up and kissed him. “Thank you.”

Paul released her. “I’d better get over to the office before Millie starts calling. I have a ton of stuff to do before I go on that men’s retreat tomorrow.”

She chuckled. “It’s a good thing you have Sergeant Millie to keep you in line.” Millie Lovelace was Paul’s sixty-year-old secretary. Efficient and orderly, Millie had been ruling the roost for years before Paul arrived in Copper Mill.

“Don’t I know it?” Paul gathered up his briefcase and books. “On days like this, I almost appreciate her micromanagement.” He kissed Kate’s cheek. “Are you picking up that window at St. Lucy’s today?”

“I thought I would.”

“In that case, I’ll leave you my pickup. A window that big won’t fit in the Honda.” He reached for the door handle.

“You’re right.” Kate thunked her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Thank you. I hadn’t even thought about that. I’ll have Lucas help me put it in, but I’ll need you to help me take it out of the pickup.”

“Just be careful. The gearshift has been acting up lately.”

“Ah, so that’s what it was.” She laughed. “I noticed that the last time I drove it. I thought it just didn’t like me.” Truth was, Kate didn’t like driving the truck, and was usually able to avoid it, but sometimes it proved necessary.

“I’m sure it doesn’t mind you driving it around.” He winked and, heading out the door, added, “I know if I was a truck, I’d love having you in the driver’s seat.”

Seconds later he backed Kate’s black Honda Accord out of the driveway and headed down Smoky Mountain Road.

Kate hung her jacket on the coat tree that stood on the slate entry and then made a beeline for her studio. It was a mess from her last project, and she wanted it tidy and ready for St. Lucy’s window. She tried to keep it clean and organized but had gotten behind recently.

Though she felt terrible about the damage to the stained-glass window, Kate was thrilled about working on something so beautiful—and precious. She wondered whether she was good enough to tackle the job.

“No point fussing about it,” Kate told herself. She began putting her supplies in the labeled drawers. As soon as she finished straightening up, she’d head over to St. Lucy’s and pick it up. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t contain her excitement.

A quick inventory told her she had plenty of glass, lead came, and copper foil, but she’d know for certain after assessing the damage. She would, however, need to order some gold leaf for the cross. Nothing but real gold would do. Kate hung the soldering iron in its place against the wall with some of the other tools, then carefully placed her glass-cutting tools in the safety sheaths.

Within an hour, Kate was ready to go. Her excitement picked up again as she thought about getting her hands on that window. She prayed she’d be able to repair and restore it to its original beauty.

She also prayed she’d be able to handle the temperamental stick shift in Paul’s blue Chevy pickup.

Once in the garage, she patted the old truck. “Be a good girl today, okay? No bucking.” She sometimes talked to plants to coax them into blooming and hoped her gentle tone would have an effect on the pickup as well.

Kate put the vehicle in reverse and slowly lifted her foot off the clutch. So far, so good. It moved backward without a hitch.

Intent on maneuvering the pickup out of the driveway, Kate almost missed seeing a person in the road behind her. She slammed on the brakes, and after some convulsive bucking, the pickup died.

Kate held a hand to her racing heart and glanced in the rearview mirror. She saw no trace of the person she’d seen. Or had the purple blur been a person? “Oh, Lord, please tell me I didn’t hit someone.”