Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Jake tried to cover his laughter with a cough, but his gran’s spontaneity never failed to keep life interesting. He glanced at Faith, concerned she might be mortified by his grandmother’s blunt revelation about her new home’s colorful history. To his surprise, excitement lit up her face instead.
“This is my grandmother, Ruth Murphy. You’ll get used to her candor after a while.” He dodged her expected elbow and chuckled at the indignant expression she shot him.
“You scamp. You’ve never been anything but trouble. Is that any way to talk about an old lady?”
“I don’t see any old lady,” he said, giving her a wink.
Jake’s eyes crinkled with genuine fondness, and Faith found herself smiling at their easy banter despite the chill seeping through the broken windows.
Ruth was a vision that defied every stereotype of elderly women.
She had a striking sweep of snow-white hair pulled back in an elegant style that highlighted aristocratic cheekbones.
But it was her outfit that truly captured Faith’s attention—designer jeans with subtle silver embellishments paired with a red-fringed western shirt.
Faith couldn’t recall ever meeting a woman of Ruth’s generation who favored red leather mules over sensible orthopedic shoes.
The scent of vintage perfume—something classic and French—drifted from Ruth, mingling with the dusty, woody smell of the old house. Faith breathed it in, finding it oddly comforting.
“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Faith said, genuinely delighted.
“Was this really once a house of ill repute? How fascinating!” She carefully navigated around some suspicious dark spots in the floor and offered Ruth her arm for support.
“I’d love to hear everything about it. I sensed this house had stories to tell the moment I walked through the door.
Let’s go to the kitchen where it’s safer, and I can offer you something to drink. ”
Jake stood frozen, wondering how he’d lost control of the situation so quickly.
He followed them toward what he hoped was a structurally sound kitchen, bemused by Faith’s enthusiasm.
Something about the way her eyes had lit up at the mention of scandal intrigued him.
Perhaps Faith Hartwell wasn’t quite as proper and buttoned up as she first appeared.
“Before you ladies get too comfortable,” Jake interjected, “I should make sure this area is safe. Faith, if you’re planning on staying here tonight, we need to start work immediately.
I strongly recommend packing a bag and checking into a hotel until we’ve leveled the foundation and removed the rotted wood.
But something tells me you’re not going to take that advice. ”
“I am perfectly reasonable,” Faith protested, the slight lift of her chin betraying her stubborn streak. “But I bought this house, and I intend to see this project through, challenges and all.”
“I figured as much,” Jake said, a smile tugging at his lips. Something about her determination struck a chord with him. “I’ll do a thorough inspection and draft an estimate. If we can finalize everything today, I can have a crew here first thing tomorrow.”
“Don’t bother with an estimate,” Faith said, waving her hand dismissively. “I’ll pay whatever it takes to restore this place to its original glory.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Jake replied, his voice gentle but firm. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I let anyone take advantage of you, even yourself.”
Something warm unfurled in Faith’s chest at his protective tone, and she found herself taking a half step closer to him before catching herself. It had been a long time since anyone had looked out for her interests.
“You should listen to him, dear,” Ruth advised, settling herself on one of the sturdier-looking kitchen chairs. “My Jake is one of the finest men I’ve ever known. And he’s single too. Never even been engaged.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “He’s not gay either. Are you, Jake?”
“No, ma’am,” he said, fighting back a grin.
“And I’m not suggesting he’s inexperienced, mind you,” Ruth continued.
“He’s certainly enjoyed his youth and his fair share of nitwits with more breasts than brains, but he’s outgrown that stage.
You don’t need to worry about him being clumsy where it matters, if you know what I mean.
What about you? Is there a special someone in your life? I don’t see a ring.”
Faith’s cheeks burned under Ruth’s not-so-subtle matchmaking, and she avoided meeting Jake’s eyes. She noticed Jake wasn’t rushing to change the subject—in fact, he seemed quite interested in her answer.
“No, I’m not married,” she admitted, the words bringing a familiar hollow feeling she quickly pushed aside. “My career keeps me rather busy.” The slight tightening in her throat wasn’t audible, but she felt it all the same.
The hands-off signal couldn’t have been clearer, but it only heightened Jake’s curiosity.
What secrets was Faith Hartwell hiding behind that professional demeanor?
What had put that momentary shadow in her expressive green eyes?
He recognized his grandmother’s stubborn determination in himself—that need to solve puzzles others might walk away from.
“What exactly do you do, dear? I can tell you come from good stock—we always recognize our own kind,” Ruth said matter-of-factly. “But I gather you’re involved in more than charity luncheons and society galas?”
From anyone else, the comment might have seemed insufferably elitist, but Ruth delivered it with such straightforward charm that Faith couldn’t take offense.
“I’m a therapist,” Faith explained, relaxing slightly. “I closed my private practice a few years ago. Now I host a radio show in the evenings and host a weekly podcast. I’ll probably start seeing patients again once I have the house renovated with a proper office space.”
“The Dr. Hartwell?” Ruth’s eyes widened with recognition.
“I’m a huge fan. I listen to your program every night.
You give such sensible advice, and I adore how you don’t coddle those doormats and wishy-washy callers who want you to magically fix their problems without any effort on their part.
Most people don’t have the sense that God gave a turnip. ”
“A love doctor, huh?” Jake’s deep voice sent an involuntary shiver down Faith’s spine.
She’d thought he’d already left to begin his inspection.
“This should be interesting.” He flashed those devastating dimples, winked, and sauntered away, whistling as he carefully navigated the hazardous flooring.
“Just in case, listen for my cries of distress if I fall through somewhere,” he called over his shoulder.
Faith exhaled slowly, willing her heart to resume its normal rhythm.
Those dimples were dangerous weapons. She’d always had a weakness for dimples, but this attraction was the last thing she needed.
In her experience, men became either intimidated or overly curious once they discovered her profession.
They inevitably assumed she possessed some mystical insight into relationships—or worse, that she was some sort of romantic goddess.
The bitter irony wasn’t lost on Faith. For someone who counseled others on matters of the heart, her own romantic history remained her greatest vulnerability. After Steve, she’d kept relationships at arm’s length, finding it easier to analyze love than to risk experiencing it again firsthand.
Maybe it was time to reinvent herself. To become the confident, worldly woman everyone assumed she must be. She turned back to Ruth, pushing thoughts of Jake and his dimples aside.
“So, tell me everything about this infamous house,” Faith said, moving to the ice chest she’d been using as a makeshift refrigerator. “I wish I had something nicer to offer you than sodas and crackers.”
“I’ll have a soda,” Ruth said with a mischievous glint in her eye. “It’ll drive Jake crazy.” Faith instantly recognized where Jake had inherited his playful streak.
“I don’t want to cause trouble between you two,” Faith said, arranging some cookies on a paper plate and retrieving two cans from the ice chest. She wished she at least had proper glasses to serve her guest.
“Nonsense. Jake’s a softy at heart. Besides, I’m old enough to do as I please,” Ruth declared. “I could pass away at any moment, you know.”
“I seriously doubt that,” Faith laughed.
“That’s the truth,” Ruth agreed, accepting the soda with a nod of thanks. “I’ve outlived six husbands, and not one of them could keep pace with me. It’s unfortunate that men are such delicate creatures.”
Faith settled across from Ruth at the folding card table. “I wonder why the Realtor didn’t mention this place’s colorful history.”
“He probably thought it would be another strike against a property already facing significant challenges,” Ruth said, gesturing to the sagging ceiling. “It’s not exactly in its prime.”
“Actually, I would have bought it even faster had I known,” Faith admitted. The thought of restoring not just a house but a piece of history filled her with unexpected excitement.
Ruth placed a soft, age-spotted hand over Faith’s.
Despite their delicate appearance, Faith could feel the strength in those fingers.
“More young women should be like you,” she said with approval.
“You remind me a bit of myself, though a little more uptight. We’ll have to work on that—I excel at being a bad influence. ”
Faith’s mouth fell open at the “uptight” comment, but Ruth didn’t seem the least bit concerned about potential offense.