Page 20 of A Twist of Faith
“Consults?” Doc tried to brush some of the rain off of her jacket sleeves.
“Just so you know, I wasn’t consultin’ them on how to speak proper English.”
He won her smile. “What a relief.”
“I consult on cattle care and management. Been doin’ it for years to supplement the farm income. With the economy like it is, though, I hadn’t had as many private pays, so the Chicago offer is good.” He pulled the truck up to the barn, rain still spinning rivulets down the windshield. “Be right back.”
Once he got the calf and its mama settled in a cozy corner of the barn, he ran back to the truck. “Miss me?”
Dee stared at him a moment and then looked away. “You sounded just like my dad. It must be a country boy thing.”
“Your dad must have been a good fella.”
“A hard worker, like you.” Dee nodded and stared back out the window, her profile sober “You’re more jovial. He was a pretty serious man.” She gave a humorless laugh. “Definitely long-suffering and driven. Some of the qualities that took him to full professor at UVA.”
Reese let the silence sit for a minute. Loneliness tinged her words. Loneliness and determination. “You want to return to Charlottesville? Be like him?”
“As soon as I can.”
Reese pulled his truck up beside Doc’s car. Any thoughts of attraction for Dee Roseland died with the engine. She was passing through, and his family didn’t need any more emotional roller coasters.
“Thank you for the ride, Mr. Mitchell.” Doc placed her hand on the door and turned his way. “I can honestly say it’s been the most interesting speech therapy session I’ve had in my life.”
“Glad I could liven things up a bit for you, Doc.”
She grinned. “See you Friday at my office?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Without the cow.”
“I’ll do my best, but I ain’t promising nothin’.”
Her frown didn’t match the glint in her eyes. “Mr. Mitchell,ain’tis not a word.”
With that, she slammed the door, leaving the faint hint of apples behind. He couldn’t help notice her uneven walk from the dirt clods clinging to her shoes. Well, he probably could’ve helped it, but didn’t. A figure like hers rarely went unnoticed.
Heat crept up the back of his neck. Raineyhadto give him speech therapy. There wasn’t any other option. Dr. Adelina Roseland hit upon his weakness for smart, witty, brunette city girls, but he’d learned a lot in the past two years. A painful lot. Neither he nor his family needed another woman with a restless heart.
Chapter 5
You must be reasonable, Mr. Higgins: really you must. You can't walk over everybody like this. (Pygmalion, Act 2)
Dee pushed open her office door, bone-weary from a late night of class preparation, and the scent hit her. Blueberry muffins and coffee. The piece of toast she’d crammed in her mouth as she ran out the door barely made a dent on her appetite. A muffin waited on her desk on a paper plate complete with napkin, and the coffee sat beside in a Styrofoam cup with a note attached.
Hope you didn’t catch cold from the rain. The best way to start the morning is with a full stomach.
Mama Mitchell
Dee blinked twice and reread the note. Mama Mitchell? Who was Mama Mitchell and how did she get into Dee’s office? Dee collapsed into her desk chair and reread the note while her computer booted up, the fresh-baked aroma causing havoc with her growling stomach. Reese’s mother? The same lady who left the magnificent feast at her rental house?
Hunger overcame caution. She pulled the muffin from the bag and took one slow, tantalizing bite. Her eyes fluttered closed as buttery warmth and blueberry sweetness melted across her tongue in fresh, homemade uniqueness. Good heavens, that woman calmed Dee’s nerves with a combination of sugar and flour like nobody else. Dee reread the card, wondering if Mrs. Mitchell looked or acted anything like her scruffy son.
The rolling hills outside her window brought Reese Mitchell to mind. Despite her best attempts, a smile slid onto her lips at the memory of him and the calf. His raw authenticity appealed to her wounded spirit. He certainly wasn’t someone to escort her around the gilded halls of UVA, and formal gatherings probably made him cringe, but he left a very different impression with her heart than she’d anticipated … or wanted. She wanted to trust him.
She drew her attention from the window to focus on her university email account. The third message made her choke down her next bite of muffin. It came from Dr. Shaye Russell, chair of the department, and reminded her of their first faculty meeting at 8:30.This morning.
Dee looked down at her clock. 8:29. Brilliant. If only the Internet made some sort of connection at her house. She could work out a word-math problem faster than a Google search on her ancient digital connection. With a sigh, she shoved away from the desk, snatched up her laptop, and halfway ran down the hallway, praying the meeting was in the one conference room she remembered from her brief tour.
