Reese walked her over to one of the empty picnic tables, his whole body vibrating inwardly from her unexpected hug. Everyone who was around would have seen it. Did Shay realize the signal she was sending out to the world? To him? As he released her elbow and she sat down, there was no mistaking the joy shining in her eyes. He ached to always see her this happy and free of her dark past. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.
*
Shay sighed, resting her chin on her hands, watching the crane slowly lift up another roof joist to be put in place by the awaiting crew on the arena roof. Everything was going like clockwork! That stunned her and she felt her stomach starting to loosen up and relax. Rubbing her eyes, she felt a sudden tiredness, realizing it was because of not sleeping last night and worrying about today. She watched Reese move through the breakfast tent, a number of women behind the tables scooping up eggs, bacon, and biscuits onto the two paper plates he held in his large, capable hands. Her heart warmed and swelled with such love for Reese. When had she fallen in love with him? And Shay knew it was love; this wasn’t some passing infatuation.
He’d been a center of calm for her from the beginning. He’d done so much to help her. Most of all, he’d handled all the details concerning her father coming out at 10:00 A.M. today. Ray would be allowed to stay until 3:00 P.M., and then Troy was to drive him back to the nursing home. She wavered between feeling guilt and feeling relief. Not only that, Diana Adson had eagerly agreed to be a shield, as she referred to herself, between father and daughter. Never was Shay more grateful to her friend. Diana knew about her childhood and had been such an important support to her throughout this past hardscrabble year.
She saw Reese coming her way with two plates full of food.
“Okay,” he told her, sliding one paper plate in front of her and then sitting down opposite her, “time to get some fuel into your body. We’re going for sixteen hours straight today, and you have to eat, Shay.”
She smiled a little, taking the plastic knife, fork, and spoon, and a napkin he offered. “Thanks.” On her plate was a huge dollop of scrambled eggs mixed with bacon, onion, and cheddar cheese, the delicious scent wafting into her nostrils. Her stomach growled in anticipation. Reese had sliced two homemade biscuits, slathered them with melted butter, and piled them high with homemade strawberry jam. There were five sausage links on her plate. When she looked at his plate, it was piled twice as high as hers with twice the amount of food. Men worked hard out here and ate accordingly. Suddenly, she was starved, digging into the steaming, fragrant fare.
The noise was constant around Shay, but she loved the sounds because it meant that the roof was going to cover the arena by Sunday night. She could see quickly moving teams framing up the walls around the concrete foundations that had been laid last week for the houses. There were twelve men and women assigned to each house. She knew from what Steve Whitcomb had told her, that the framing on each home would be complete in a matter of hours, the bones to each home, in place. Next came the electrical. There were so many steps and each had to be done in the correct order, he’d told her. It was exciting to see these houses being created out of nothing. Laughter was everywhere. There wasn’t one unsmiling face among the volunteers that Shay could spot. It felt more like a festive carnival taking place on the ranch than a brutal sixteen-hour day of nonstop work. Moisture came to her eyes as she felt intense hope sweep through her.
Since Steve Whitcomb was an architect by trade, the Whitcombs had a lot of earth-moving equipment at their ranch, and all of those machines had been brought in by truck on Friday. Shay spotted Maud outside one of the houses, helping to erect a two-by-four wall with her team. She might be in her fifties, but she knew how to use a nail gun and build those wooden frames.
“This is all like a dream,” she confided softly to Reese as she ate.
He sipped his hot, steaming coffee. “Not everything in our lives is always a nightmare, is it?”
She sobered and lost her smile. “You’re right.” Shay savored the hot biscuit, melting butter, and tart strawberry jam. Reese was right. There had been many good times in her life, too. But with PTSD, the symptoms threw a dark curtain over everything. Today, though, Shay felt nearly free of that darkness as she turned and watched another roof joist being lifted into place on the arena roof, with the help of the crane and crew. The men and women on top of the huge structure knew what they were doing and worked in concert with one another. She glanced at her watch. In an hour, her father would arrive.
“How are you feeling about your father?” Reese asked.
“Scared, if you want the truth.”
“Troy knows he can’t take your father off that back porch. And he knows that no matter what Ray orders him to do, Troy will follow your wishes, instead. Relax.” Reese reached over, touching her hand for a moment.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you here, Reese,” Shay admitted. “You’ve helped me so much . . . so often . . .”