“Make sense?”
“Aye.” Arran scanned the space, keeping his gaze from Luke’s in case the man could mind-read fear. “I believe so.”
“Good.” Luke gave a curt nod. “It’s not the steepest roof, but why don’t you stay near the midline of the house, for starters?”
Arran dipped his head, and Luke walked off to work with some sort of large black sheets of... paper?
Four hours later, Arran’s body ached, sweat rolled over every part of his skin, and his vocabulary had expanded with new words liketar paper,drip edges, andflashing. Despite his love for more strenuous sports like mountain climbing, they’d failed to sufficiently prepare him for the rigor of holding one’s balance on a roof while simultaneously attempting not to tear the tar paper or knock a fellow worker to his death.
Roofing also increased Arran’s prayer life by volumes.
As Arran sat for a moment, finishing off a bottled water, Luke joined him, his own water in hand. “You might want to take your time getting out of bed in the morning. Your thighs aren’t going to be happy with you.”
Who needed to wait for the morning? Arran’s body already ached from neck to ankles. Even his ears hurt.
“I’d take an ibuprofen or a few Tylenols tonight too.” Luke raised his water to his lips. “It’ll help for tomorrow. Besides, you’ll need to be ambulatory by Thursday, at least.”
“Thursday?” A sudden dread doused his newfound sense of comradery.
“Shucks, I thought Ellie would’ve told you.” He took another drink of water, in no hurry to abate Arran’s curiosity, it seemed. “It’s the first fundraiser for The Mistletoe Wish, the charity you’ve been roped into as part of your time here.”
Ah yes! One of the stipulations of his penance.
Earn an income.
Become involved in a charity.
Discover who he was and what he wanted (his own personal addition).
The first two were already in the works.
The daunting third? Well, time would tell, but as he looked out over the horizon, he embraced the desire to prove to his sister, brother-in-law, and the poor woman he’d accosted last night that he was a better man than his first impression.
Luke stood and Arran pushed through his sore muscles and followed. “What about this fundraiser, and...” Arran’s grin twitched, seeking some levity to counterbalance the sudden desire to wince at the pain shooting up his legs. “Did you say ‘mistletoe’?”
“Don’t get any ideas, Romeo.” Luke raised a brow. “The wordmistletoewas chosen because of what it stands for, not for the smooching it inspires.”
“Stands for?”
“The idea comes from our Appalachian-Scottish heritage. You see, because mistletoe can withstand harsh winters, it was revered as a symbol of resilience, protection, and love. Which fits what we hope to instill in the children served by the charity.” He walked over to the edge of the roof and dropped his bottle over the side and into a rubbish pile they’d been collecting throughout the day. “But Charlie will be able to tell you more about it. She’s the reluctant coordinator this year.”
Oh, so this Charlie was a woman?
And resilience, protection, and love? Worthy aspirations. Heroic, even.
“So, a Christmas charity?”
“Sure is. The towns of Mount Airy and Ransom get involved. Thursday is just the beginning of a set of fundraisers. You’re helping set up the booth at the Ransom Fall Festival. It always happens the weekend of the carnival.”
A festival and a carnival? Arran’s muscles rejoiced in unison. He could manage those.
“Booths run up and down Main Street, with the carnival set up just at the edge of the town. With all the tourists and visitors, it’s a great time to raise money for The Wish.”
“I’ve always enjoyed a good carnival.”
“Don’t get too comfortable.” Luke tossed a look over his shoulder as he moved across the roof. “I imagine Charlie will have plenty of work for you to do.”
Luke’s gaze caught on something below. “Speaking of... she just pulled up.” Luke started moving toward the back of the house without further explanation. “Good time to ask her more about it, if you want.”
