Page 5 of A Twist of Faith
With one last look at Alex and a quick glance back to her, the farmer stepped from the room.
Dee braced herself as she turned.
As soon as the door clicked close, Alex was ready. “We have a deal.”
“What?”
“Youand Mr. Cowman. Ten weeks.” He readjusted his tie.
“No. You can’t be serious. I am not going to bring Mr. Cow … um … Mitchell into this.”
Alex pulled keys from his pocket. “Too much of a challenge?”
“No, I—”
“Oh, I see. You planned on picking someone who couldn’t roll their ‘r’s?” He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and walked passed her to the closed door, head down. “Pity.”
“You know that’s not—”
“Once you gain more experience, right?”
“Okay, fine. Deal.”
Alex spun around and extended his hand to shake.
Dee folded her arms in protest.
A slow, steady grin spread across his face likeThe Grinch Who Stole Christmas. “Ten weeks, which should make the great unveiling at the department Autumn Leaves Gala in Charlottesville. Perfect. By thenifyou can pass him off as a sophisticated intellectual, no hint of the cowboy who just walked in this room, I’ll even buy you dinner at ASHA after your presentation.” Alex saluted her then walked toward the door.
Her eyes shuddered closed.What had she done?
“Adelina?” He stopped in the doorway and looked over his shoulder at her. “You may not believe it, especially coming from me, but you’re more than capable of succeeding in this position.”
She hesitated at another view of this gentler side of the usually self-assured Dr. Murdock. “Why would you say that?”
“Just because I have an ...” He looked to the ceiling as if searching for the word. “… eclectic reputation doesn’t mean I don’t value hard work and talent. You have both.” He tapped the doorframe with his keys and tossed a genuine smile her way. “I look forward to you winning this bet, Dr. Roseland. Good luck.”
She nodded, unable to respond to his authenticity, let alone his compliments. Maybe, just maybe, there was something more to Dr. Alexander Murdock than a perfectly pressed suit and a trail of broken hearts. She shrugged off the curiosity. Her cup was already overflowing with more trouble than she cared to taste—this wager foaming at the very top.
She collapsed into her desk chair. Her father’s framed face looked back at her. Trailing a finger along the edge of the frame, she studied the photo, wondering what he would do or say about the desperate deal she made with Dr. Murdock.
Mr. Mitchell provided a perfectly timed distraction from her internal lecture of guilt. He moved into the room, a book box under each arm as if theydidn’tweigh seventy pounds apiece. “Where would you like these, Doc?”
She flinched at his pet name for her, its familiarity. “By those bookshelves would be fine, Mr. Mitchell. Thank you.”
The T-shirt stretched taut across his broad shoulders as he placed the boxes on the floor. She quickly looked away and stood, reaching for a stack of files from a box nearby.
“Is that all?”
“For now. I still have some boxes to sort through once I reach my rental house.” She had a list of important things to accomplish during her first six months at this tiny school, and reforming Reese Mitchell was not on the list.
Until now.
If she truly went through with this wager, she’d practically be married to him for ten weeks. Ten weeks of intensive speech therapy with a backwoods, mountain cattle farmer? A prayer came to mind out of nowhere.Help me, God.
Mr. Mitchell dusted his hat against his overalls. “Again, I’m real sorry ’bout showin’ up like this. I usually clean up better when I come into town, but I had to run Mama to the hospital.”
Dee stood. “Your mother?”
