Page 56 of A Twist of Faith
Dee cleared her throat. Reese reached to pull at his collar, but stopped in midair. This wasnotthe way to watch football.
“It sounds intriguing.” Dr. Lindsay seemed genuinely interested. That said a lot about her in Reese’s book. Quality. “There are large farms in the Charlottesville area. I imagine you’d consult there as well?”
Reese shot a glance to the game as Tech stopped UVA’s movement down the field with a first down. He peeled his gaze away from the activity and back to Dr. Lindsay. “Most likely. I’m interviewing for the Mideastern region. Pennsylvania down to North Carolina.”
“Last week Reese told me about his research.” Dee turned to Dr. Lindsay, her proud smile making him feel twenty feet tall. “He explained the facts and details about his work so clearly, I wondered about his teaching at a university level.”
Reese sat so stunned he was pretty sure his mouth hung open like a dog’s. Dee thought he ought to teach at a university? Him? His mind dug into the possibility for a minute and it didn’t scare him half as much as it should have. Of course, he’d always liked teaching other farmers, but college students? He’d never put much thought to it.
“Really?” Dr. Lindsay’s eyes grew wide. “Researcher and teacher? Those are fabulous qualities for university faculty. What do you think of the possibility, Mr. Mitchell?”
His attention bounced from Dee back to Dr. Lindsay, with another quick look to the field. Second down—UVA. “Well, I haven’t turned my mind to the option before. I ain … I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, just a new one, but I’m all for an adventure.”
Dr. Lindsay continued with her slew of questions. “Would you stay in farming if you could choose?”
Ah, something he’d thought about aplenty. “I really like fixing problems for folks and teachin’ them how to do things better. That’s one of the reasons I got my degree. So the consulting job helps me feed the need to educate and help others. I don’t know if I’d keep farming directly, but I certainly want to keep my hand in it in one way or other.”
Reese caught a glimpse of the action on the field from the corner of his eye. Third down and ten yards. UVA. He jerked at his collar again.
“And Adelina has been,” Dr. Lindsay raised her brow. “Tutoring you to help with the interview?”
Reese nodded, absently. “Yep, she’s real good at her job.” The quarterback sent the ball spiraling through the autumn air. Reese spoke, barely aware of his words. “She’s great with her consonants.”
Reese gripped his seat. A defensive end for Virginia Tech moved into play.
“Great with my consonants?” Dee’s voice barely registered.
“I reckon your vowels are good too,” he murmured, attention focused on the ball.
The defensive end intercepted the ball and started on a dead run toward the goal line. Reese jumped to his feet, leaning over the edge of the stand. “Quit runnin’ like a granny.”
Two UVA players closed in.
“Pick up your feet.” Reese turned to Rainey, who stood next to him. “What’s he doin?”
One of UVA’s players nabbed the Tech player’s shoulder, sending him off balance. What was wrong with that boy? He ran like rocks filled his pants.
Reese cupped his hands around his mouth. “You’re runnin’ slower than fog risin’ off manure. Pick up your feet, boy.”
The runner barely squeezed in a touchdown and Reese yelled a bigyahoobefore returning to his seat. Alex Murdock looked ready to laugh, both of Dr. Lindsay’s eyebrows met her hairline, and Dee’s mouth rounded about as wide as her eyes.
Hmm, something was stinkin’ and Reese wondered if it had more to do with vowels and consonants than fog and manure.
Reese sent Raineyon home without him and walked Dee to her door, his feet about as heavy as his heart. Women shouldn’t trust men around football, and that was the truth. “I’m real sorry, Dee.”
“You don’t have to keep apologizing, Reese.”
Wind rustled Dee’s hair and she wrapped her arms around her shoulders, head down as she walked. Silence passed between them, and then Dee chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dr. Lindsay laugh so hard.”
“At least I gave her a good laugh.” Reese shook his head, hands jammed in his pockets. “Did I ruin your chances with your boss?”
Dee sat on the front porch steps and leaned back to stare up at the night sky. Her dark hair fell back, almost brushing the porch step behind her. “Of course not. She recognizes you’re a work in progress.”
“I’m a work in progress, eh?” He joined her on the steps. “Well, if that ain’t … isn’t the truth, nothing is.”
“It’s difficult to remediate this particular dialect, especially for individuals who have never gone beyond it.” She shrugged. “You did very well for a long time tonight. If you keep up this pace you’ll certainly be ready for Chicago.”
“Your dad was from the Blue Ridge Mountains, right?”
