Chapter 9
nine
K ristie pushed the vacuum cleaner across the flat, burgundy carpet, the familiar hum filling the empty chapel. Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns across the pews and floor.
Pure peace filled her, and she loved being in the church when everyone else had gone home.
She hadn’t actually gone to church that morning, due to her late night at the Clovis farm. Thus, she’d completely forgotten it was her Sunday to clean the church after Sabbath services. When the pastor’s wife had called twenty minutes ago, that familiar wave of guilt had washed over her.
Doesn’t matter , she told herself. You’re here now —and vacuuming was her favorite chore. There was simply something about the white noise and the vibration of the machine in her hand—and the way she could put perfectly even lines in the carpet.
Well, hers at home, anyway. The church’s carpet was too flat and thin to see many lines.
Once she finished vacuuming and tidying up the chapel, she’d empty the trashcans in the classrooms, shine the glass in the front doors, and clean the bathrooms. With any luck, and with her working at a steady clip, she’d be back home in ninety minutes.
Mission had been at lunch with the Hammonds; surely he wouldn’t be at her house for another couple of hours anyway.The thought made her stomach flutter with anticipation all the same.
She’d really enjoyed their date last night, and she’d hoped her flirtatious teasing had come through in her texts. Mission was a pretty literal cowboy, though, so she’d decided to simply spell it out in exact words and letters that he couldn’t misinterpret.
But the dancing made up for it, and the handsome cowboy I was with didn’t hurt either.
Yes, she’d sent that text, because he hadn’t seemed to get her teasing. It was hard to do via text, and Kristie wasn’t a great flirt anyway.
She finished with the vacuuming and moved onto the bathrooms. She’d just finished in the women’s when her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She pulled it out and wiped her hair back out of her face at the same time.
Mission: I’m at your house but you’re not answering the door.
Her heartbeat fell to the soles of her sneakers.She’d told him she wasn’t planning on going anywhere, and then the call to clean the church had come in.
She tapped to call him, only imagining his displeasure at the change of plans. His phone rang a couple of times, and then he said, “Hey, there.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said in a rush of words. “I forgot it was my turn to clean the church, and the pastor’s wife called after I told you I’d be home for the rest of the day.”
“So you’re at the church?”
She couldn’t tell if he was upset or not. “Yes,” she said, quickly calculating how much longer she’d be there. “I’m probably going to be another thirty or forty-five minutes.”
“I’ll come over,” he said. “See you in a sec.” He ended the call, and Kristie stared at her phone for a moment. She swallowed, because she knew Mission went to church. She’d seen him sitting in these very pews with various cowboys over the years.
She simply hadn’t anticipated telling him about her service in the church quite yet. Not that she had a plan for when that came up, but usually not on the first date.
“Or the second,” she muttered, wondering if sharing three-day-old cheesecake could be considered a date.
She hurried into the men’s room and started cleaning. Then she and Mission could go through the chapel to reset the hymnals, collect the trash, and wipe windows together.
“Kristie?” Mission’s voice came before she’d finished in the bathroom, and she wasn’t sure why she was so nervous.
“In the bathroom,” she called. Several moments later, the sound of his footsteps clacked on the tile.
She exited the final stall, that work done. Her hands bore bright yellow gloves that went to her elbow, but Mission didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t look anywhere but straight into her eyes.
“Hey.” She’d never been in the men’s restroom with a man before, but Mission grinned at her like this was nothing to him.
“Hey, kitten.”
Her smile sprang to her face unbidden. Him and that kitten endearment. She’d almost forgotten about it.
He looked over to the dual sinks and mirror. “Have you done this?”
“Not yet,” she said.
“I saw the trash bag in the hall.”
“Yeah,” she said. “We have to get them out of all the classrooms too.”
Mission bent and plucked the sponge out of the bucket. “I didn’t know you cleaned the church,” he said as he got to work wiping down counters.
“Yeah,” she said, reaching for the glass cleaner. “I’ve been doing it since I moved to town.”
He looked over to her, pure curiosity in his expression. So much so, that he didn’t have to ask anything more.
“It…It makes me feel connected to something bigger than myself,” she said. “And I really needed that when I came to Ivory Peaks.”
“And that was what? Five years ago?”
“Five in January, yes,” she said. “Helping out at the church gives me—I don’t know. It helps me feel like I belong here.” She swallowed and focused on going round and round to clean the glass.
“I think there’s more to this story,” he said quietly.
“You’d be right.”
He gave her a slow, gorgeous smile. “So you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
“Yeah,” she said fondly. “Like you’ll tell me about your parents and what brought you to Ivory Peaks when you’re ready.”
A swallow moved down his neck too, and he nodded without saying anything. They finished in the men’s room, and Kristie picked up the bucket. “We still need to dust the altar and pulpit, collect the hymnals, and take out the trash.”
“I’ll get the trash from the classrooms and meet you in the chapel.” He leaned closer and brushed his lips along her cheek. “It’s great to see you, Kris.” With that, he left her standing in the men’s room, pure heat stinging in her skin where he’d touched her.
And how did he speak in that tender, husky voice that made all the cells in her body tingle?
Kristie pulled herself together and went to the altar to begin dusting. She ran her cloth carefully over the wooden cross, the podium where the pastor stood to speak, and the table where the sacrament got administered.
This part of her cleaning routine always felt more like worship than chore. There was something sacred about caring for these symbols of faith, making sure they were ready to serve their purpose for the next service.
“You come here every Sunday?” Mission’s voice startled her from her thoughts. He’d returned with a roll of trash bags and currently emptied a small bin near the entrance.
She shook her head. “I only clean once a month.”
“I didn’t know patrons did it,” he said, clearly asking for more information.
“I talked to the pastor and his wife when I first came to town,” she said.
“I think they ask others to do it for…various reasons.” She tucked the dusting supplies back into her bucket and started up the first aisle.
She knew the others who cleaned the church, and it was usually as part of their repentance process, or because they were getting financial help.
She didn’t need to know, and she didn’t care.
She simply liked the way it made her feel more connected to her church community.
“We just need to check for left-behind toys and trash in the pews,” she said. “And collect the hymnals and put them in the shelves at the back.”
“All right,” Mission said, moving to go up the aisle with her. “Where’d you move from?”
The question was casual, but Kristie tensed slightly. “Arizona,” she said after a moment. “The Phoenix area.”
Mission seemed to sense her hesitation and didn’t press further. “I came from New Mexico,” he said. “When I found the job at the Hammond Family Farm, and I told my granddad I wanted to stay here, he moved here too.”
Kristie bent to pick up a snack-size bag of Cheerios that had been left behind. “He’s Native American, right?”
“Yes, half Navajo,” Mission said. “Thus, the last name of Redbay.”
“That makes you…what? An eighth Navajo?”
“Yes,” Mission said. They worked their way down both sides of the chapel, from front to back, and then back to front again.
Kristie sighed, pleased with her work that afternoon. “Cleaning the church is my way of giving back. When I first came here, I was in a rough place. This church became my family when I needed one.”
Mission had stopped collecting trash and was watching her, his dark eyes attentive. “I get that,” he said softly.
The sincerity in his voice made her look up. There was understanding in his gaze, not judgment or pity. It made her want to tell him more.
“I’ve always struggled with feeling…worthy,” she admitted. “Like I need to earn my place. Cleaning the church started as a way to feel useful, but it’s become more than that.”
Mission nodded, still wearing his ultra-serious mask. She’d seen it so many times, but never laced with this undercurrent of concern and compassion. “Sometimes the simplest acts of service mean the most.”
“Exactly.” She smiled, grateful he understood. “And then I met my friends in my cooking class, and my mobile vet office took off.” She sighed, pleased and proud at how far she’d come in only a few years.
“But I still love coming to the church when it’s still and quiet like this.” She looked around, drinking in the peaceful spirit of the building.
He gazed up at the two-story roof high above them too. “It has a different feel.” He picked up the bag of trash and asked, “I’ll follow you back to your place?”
She nodded and went to put the bucket of supplies in the janitorial closet while he took the trash out. Outside, he waited in his truck, which he’d parked next to her SUV, and she led the way back to her house.
The drive home gave Kristie time to think through the conversation with Mission. She hadn’t expected to share as much as she had with him, but something about him made her feel safe enough to lower her guard, if only a little.
When they arrived at her house, all three cats waited in the window again. Kristie laughed as she parked in the garage and waited for Mission to drop from his truck.
“Your fan club is eager to see you,” she told Mission as she pushed into the house and the cats immediately swarmed around their feet. Bob practically bellowed his meows, simply starved for attention, the greedy feline.
“Oh, heya, Bob.” Mission crouched right down and started stroking the cat. Bob pressed into his palm, his purr like a lawn mower engine.
Kristie refrained from rolling her eyes, and instead, got out the cheesecakes she’d saved for herself and Mission.
“You’ve got a way with animals,” she said.
“You hum while you clean.” He straightened and grinned at her. “I never had the patience for school, but if I had, I probably would’ve been a vet like you.”
Kristie had not realized she hummed while she cleaned, but she now acknowledged that she did.
Her house felt different with Mission in it—warmer somehow, less empty. She arranged the individual passionfruit cheesecakes on small plates, adding a sprinkle of toasted coconut on top to hopefully freshen them up.
When she turned toward the living room, Mission had settled on her couch, with Bob already curled up beside him.
“I see Bob has claimed you,” she said, handing him a plate of cheesecake.
“I’m honored.” Mission accepted the dessert, his smile absolutely devastating. “This cheesecake looks amazing.”
“Thank you.” Kristie sat in her favorite flowered chair, tucking her feet underneath her. “I hope they taste as good as they look.”
Mission took a bite and closed his eyes as he moaned. “Even better,” he said after swallowing. “The passionfruit is perfect—it’s like the tart answer to the sweet cheesecake.”
He took another bite—a big one—and pride bloomed in Kristie’s chest at his genuine enjoyment. “I’m glad you like it.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sounds the occasional purr from one of the cats and the clink of forks against plates.
Kristie finished after Mission, and she stood to take his dessert plate back into the kitchen. She didn’t care about the dishes, and when she returned to the living room, she didn’t want to sit all alone in the recliner, even if it was her favorite chair.
Instead, she sank onto the couch next to Mission, who lifted his arm and settled it around her shoulders. She leaned into him, a happy little sigh escaping her mouth. It felt natural for her to lay her arm across his stomach, so she did, and Kristie settled into his side like she belonged there.
They still had plenty to talk about, but Kristie was really enjoying the silence, and it seemed like Mission was too.
She didn’t want to destroy this peace, and she told herself she’d have plenty of time to tell him all the things he needed to know to truly know her as they continued to date. Assuming he asked her out again, of course.
“When can I see you again?” Mission whispered as if he could see right into Kristie’s mind.
She let a smile inch across her face. “Barring any more emergency calls, I’m almost always free in the evenings.”
“So I could order pizza tomorrow night, and we could find a good place to watch the sunset,” he said.
“Yeah,” Kristie said, surprised at how perfect Mission’s dates were. In fact, everything about him surprised her, and everything about him reminded her that she couldn’t make lasting judgments about someone from a single encounter.
“A pizza-sunset night sounds heavenly.”
“Mm, okay.” Mission pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Do you want to just come out to my cabin when you’re done tomorrow?”
“Maybe about six-thirty?” she asked.
“Six-thirty is just fine, kitten.” He really drawled out just fine , reminding Kristie how much she liked cowboys.
Kristie smiled, knowing she’d have to wait hours until sunset if she showed up at Mission’s house at six-thirty.
And since she’d get to spend all that time with Mission, that was just fine with her.