Chapter Twenty-Five
RACHEL SPREAD THE computer-generated three-dimensional renderings across Noah’s drafting table—correction, her drafting table—the natural light from the transom windows making the detailed images practically glow.
Look at this work. They had actually turned ruins in their town into something beautiful and functional.
If someone had told her one month ago that she’d be designing in her hometown while falling head-over-heels for her high school boyfriend, she’d have recommended therapy.
She traced her finger along the old mill’s transformation—twelve units of affordable housing with a tree-lined courtyard, retail shops on one side, and the library–historical center on the other.
The high school had become a state-of-the-art primary care clinic, and the renovated town mall now housed administrative spaces that would make any municipal planner weep with joy.
This was the partnership she’d pictured in the beginning. She and Noah had more than just the romance, though that was pretty spectacular. But they were building something together that mattered. She and Noah were like an HGTV designing power couple she never knew she wanted to be.
“Benji,” she called toward the front of the cabin. “I called you… like an hour ago. Hurry up, I need your electrical brain.”
“Okay, FriendFriend,” he said, voice carrying through the hallway. “I tried to shake your fan club, but they stuck like cholesterol to my arteries thanks to your dad’s pulled pork sandwiches.”
The sound of multiple voices and footsteps approaching clapped on the front porch. Her father’s heavy footfalls first, followed by Bethany, Amarie, and Leah, all chattering excitedly.
“We came to see you after the unveiling,” Bethany announced, then stopped short in the doorway. “Oh, my goodness, Rachel.”
“Holy moly… talk about a thirst trap,” Amarie breathed, stepping into the space. “This is like something out of Architectural Digest.”
“Benji, you have to see this.” Rachel’s voice practically bounced as she spread the renderings across the table, her fingers tracing the crisp lines with barely contained excitement. “This is what Noah and I have been working on.”
“Oh”—he looked her over—“besides each other?”
Rachel rolled her eyes heavenward at his antics. “Look,” she gestured. “After thirty-six years, we’re finally giving Service the prevention and protective hub it deserves.”
She could almost smell the fresh concrete and hear the hum of activity as she described her vision.
“Picture this.” She held up a rendering of the front elevation.
“Forty thousand square feet of pure functionality. We’re moving everything to the back of the high school property: fire, EMS, police, all working together like a fine-tuned machine.
” Her eyes lit up as she gestured toward the detailed drawings.
“Feel how much space we’re talking about here.
Room for those massive ladder trucks to actually maneuver, proper training facilities where you can hear your own voice echo, and kitchens that’ll make you want to linger over coffee. ”
Rachel’s voice dropped to an almost reverent whisper as she pointed to the dormitory section.
“And Benji, these aren’t just sleeping quarters, they’re private sanctuaries.
Gender-neutral spaces with real bathrooms, not those cramped afterthoughts they’ve been dealing with.
The firefighters will actually want to spend their downtime here, maybe work out in the fitness center or jog laps on the indoor track when the weather turns. A home away from home.”
Her enthusiasm bubbled over as she flipped to the next page.
“But here’s the bonus… a multipurpose room.
” She tapped the paper with satisfaction.
“State-of-the-art audiovisual equipment, perfect acoustics for training sessions. Picture law enforcement and fire staff learning side by side, or students absorbing every word about community safety. And when they’re not using it?
Noah can rent it out. Revenue streams, Benji.
Or emergency town hall backup when we need it. ”
Rachel’s voice took on a conspiratorial tone as she leaned closer.
“Now, this is where you get really excited. Every single building breathes efficiency.” She could practically feel the consistent warmth of the geothermal system beneath her feet.
“Those four-fold doors, no more seconds lost waiting for the sally doors to lift. Radiant floor heating will keep everyone’s feet warm during those brutal winter shifts, and these rooftop solar panels will power, power, power.
” She gestured upward with a grin. “They’re going to drink up every ray of sunshine and feed it right back to us as savings. ”
Her voice grew animated as she continued. “LED lights that’ll stay bright for years, solar hot water that’ll never leave anyone shivering after a long shift. Benji, we’re talking tens of thousands saved annually. Money that stays in our town’s coffers instead of disappearing into utility bills.”
Rachel covered her face with both hands, her cheeks flushed with pride.
“This isn’t just about buildings. This is about creating a space where our public service professionals feel valued, where our community feels protected, and where every dollar we spend comes back to benefit everyone who calls Service home. ”
Her best friend peered at her designs, his engineer’s eye immediately assessing both the workspace and the plans. “Rachel, FriendFriend, this is extraordinary work. You’ve created a showplace for your man.”
“I’d like to think so,” she giggled with teenage giddiness.
He pointed to the mill conversion, Rachel’s pet project.
“The structural integrity you’ve maintained while completely reimagining the space…
and this courtyard design integrates perfectly with the existing buildings.
The electrical infrastructure will need a complete overhaul, but the bones are solid.
And this lighting scheme you envisioned for the courtyard…
” His expression shifted to genuine awe.
“I will outdo myself to make it happen.”
“Aw…” She chuckled. “I hoped you’d love it.”
Dad joined them, hair still rumpled, wearing his crisp white T-shirt and denim. “Someone’s chipper this morning. You know, most people glow after a swim in the falls or a vacation. You look like you’ve discovered the fountain of youth—”
“Or really good sex,” Benji quipped.
“Alright, BW,” her father grumbled, shaking his head at her plus one, who’d won the whole town over with one tied football game.
“Benjamin Wiles,” Bethany gasped, while Amarie snorted with laughter.
Was it that obvious? Heat crept up Rachel’s neck. “Can we focus on the renderings, please?”
“What?” Benji shrugged. “I’m just saying I thought I’d seen the authentic Rachel Johnson. But,” he drawled, “this version is the happiest and the best.”
Benji was right. He had never seen her like this because she’d never been this version of herself.
Confident in her work, confident in her choices, confident in letting someone see her without armor.
Was this what people meant when they talked about becoming?
Her freckles had been on display and foundation-free for four days.
How people judged her pale color, her freckled skin, was a them problem.
Noah made her forget she ever worried about covering freckles or taming flyaway red hair.
When had she become the person who prioritized her comfort over concealer?
“Oh, we’re definitely focusing,” Amarie said with a grin, “but first, can we talk about this setup?” She gestured around the office.
“Noah installed dimmable track lighting. And look at the receptacles.” She pointed to an outlet system along the walls.
“USB ports built right into the electrical plan. The man thought of everything.”
Leah nodded proudly. “He learned his way around a hammer and nails from his father. But his design sense… that’s from watching you, Rachel.”
“And the storage… What I wouldn’t give,” Bethany added, opening one of the built-in drawers. “Look, Matt. Divided sections. Flat storage, even a vertical cabinet. Ingenious.” Ideal for Rachel’s drawing tools and large-format documents.
“You guys, he didn’t have to do all this…
” But the fact that he had created a space in his home where they both could work comfortably touched her in a place reserved for Noah.
Having their families witness her overwhelm added to the intensity of the moment, so she appreciated when Bethany changed the subject.
“What about the high school conversion?” Bethany asked, leaning over the clinic plans. “As someone who’ll be referring patients there, I’m fascinated by the layout.”
Rachel swallowed her emotions and pointed to the largest of the interconnected buildings.
“The bones of the old high school are perfect for what we need. Those solid walls, the high ceilings, are practically begging to become something lifesaving.” Bethany leaned forward, her fingers hovering just above the paper, as if touching it might make the dream too real.
“The existing infrastructure is our foundation for check-in, administrative, clinical spaces, and a laboratory,” Rachel continued, tracing the electrical pathways with her finger.
“But here”—she guided Bethany’s gaze to the detailed layouts—“I’ve redesigned the former gymnasium for specialty care…
pediatrics, women’s health, and wellness classes.
Bethany’s breath caught audibly, one hand pressed to her heart. “Rachel, honey…”