Page 15 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“Whatdoyou love?”

She seemed to consider the question for a few moments. He ate a few bites of his lunch while she thought.

“I’ve been volunteering at my church since I was in high school,” she said, “and I love that. Working with the kids and mentoring teenagers. I used to help run an internship for teens and young adults—sixteen to twenty-two. It was an amazing program that pulled them into the church, made them feel a part of it. I’d love to do something like that for a job, but I wouldn’t even know how to get started.”

“That sounds like a great dream,” he said. “I used to think that God’s will for me was probably something I’d hate. I’ve since learned that God gave me gifts and talents and dreamsnot to torture me or discourage me but to use in His kingdom. Not that remodeling people’s houses is akin to mentoring young people in their faith, but?—”

“But it’s important. You can serve God in whatever you do by glorifying Him and doing your best.”

He admired her faith, especially considering her situation. Most of the trials Garrett had faced had been the result of his own stupid choices. But hers—her mother missing almost all her life, losing her father. Even now, being judged by a bunch of strangers because of who her parents were. None of that was her fault, yet she seemed to face it all with faith and dignity.

Impressive.

He might have looked at her too long because she lowered her head and lifted her spoon.

He wanted to ask her questions, to learn more about her. But when she said nothing else, he shifted back to the reason for their lunch. “I assume you want to get as much money as you can out of the house.”

“I guess.”

“Do you need the cash from the sale right away?”

“I have enough to live on for a while, and I can support myself. I’ll use the money for college, but I’m not starting until fall. I need to be there by May.”

“Why, if school doesn’t start until August?”

“That gives me three full months to get a job, find a place to live, and buy everything I’ll need to live there. I’ll also need to find a church and hopefully get involved. I assume it’s harder to judge churches in the summer, with so many people gone, so I’ll need time to evaluate the different options. Three months should do it.”

She’d put a lot of thought into that answer. He glanced at the notebook she’d barely looked up from since she’d first stepped into the house. What other plans had she laid out in that thing?

“If the renovation takes longer, though,” he said, “will it be a big deal? What would happen if you didn’t make it to Florida until June?”

“The plan is May,” she said, as if that settled it.

Why did it matter so much that she stick to her plan?

More importantly, what difference did it make to him? “What’s your budget?”

“I took out a home equity loan on the house. The lawyer here, Mr. Christiansen, suggested I get the loan for a hundred and fifty thousand, so that’s what I did. Not that I want to spend that much, but I know renovations can be expensive. Do you think we can do it for that price?”

“Depends on what you want to do, of course.”

“I figure that, without more money, I won’t be able to do more than just the cosmetic stuff we talked about today, especially if we have to replace the furnace.” She flipped the notebook to a different page. “I did some research before I left Hawaii. Based on that and what we saw today, I figure we can get by with the basics.” She read off a list—floors, walls, countertops. “And then there’s the furnace. What will that cost? I’m guessing ten to twenty thousand, right?”

“Uh, ten at the most, and that’s assuming it can’t be repaired.”

“Oh.” Her eyes brightened. “Really?”

He allowed a little chuckle. “I have a feeling Hawaii is more expensive than New Hampshire.”

“So this stuff on my list, what will that cost, and how long will it take? I have some things I need to do while I’m in Coventry, things related to my parents. Hopefully, you can get it finished up while I’m here.”

“What kinds of things? I mean…” He shook his head quickly. “I’ve been told I ask too many personal questions.”

She glanced past him toward the other diners. The place had filled for lunch, and he wondered if anybody else had noticed her. She pushed the notebook aside. “As you already know, my parents have history here. My dad would never talk about what happened before my mother disappeared or why he left New Hampshire. But before he died, he said some things that made me think I might be able to get answers here—at the house, actually. I want to learn what I can, and once I do, I imagine I’ll be ready to leave.” She lowered her voice and leaned toward him. “Considering the reception I’m getting, I don’t feel exactly welcome.”

He hated that he couldn’t disagree. “You must look a lot like your mom.”

“Yeah.” The admission seemed troubling to her. “I just hope looks are the only thing we have in common.”

---