Free Forbidden Falls by Robyn Carr Page B

were on sale,” he said.
    She shifted her weight to one foot. “Have you ever actually had a church before?”
    “Not exactly.”
    “Listen, I’ll make something work with those colors. Even though they’re pretty dorky colors….”
    He had a fleeting thought that this was not the woman to be lecturing him about good taste in anything. “Aren’t you the least bit afraid I might take that personally? Maybe I’m sensitive about the colors I picked.”
    “No,” she said, tilting her head and peering at him. “You’re not gay.”
    He smiled at her. “You sure about that?”
    And she smiled, her hands on her hips. “Obviously. Or you’d have chosen more interesting colors.”
    He sighed heavily. He watched her walk toward the upstairs bathroom in her shrink-wrap jeans. He squinted. He followed, Lucy ever at his side. She had a tattoo peeking out of the back of her low-rise jeans, right in the small of her back. “I…ah…have an old painting shirt you can throw over your clothes, if you’d like. Would that help?”
    “Sure, thanks. After I get my stuff out of the car, I’ll put on my old sweats. You have all the supplies for me to get started?”
    “Stacked outside the bathroom in the hall.”
    “Super. I’ll start up here and, when I’m done, I can move it downstairs. Let me check it out, make sure you have everything I’ll need.” She knelt on one knee, checking out the supplies, showing more of that tattoo, but he still wasn’t able to make out what it was. She looked over her shoulder. “Noah, can you round up the masking tape and caulk? And get me a screwdriver and hammer, please?”
    “Screwdriver? Hammer?”
    “I’m going to take the door and mirror off. Open paint cans.”
    “By yourself?” he asked. “Want me to help with that?”
    “No. Just get me what I need.”
    “Sure,” he said. But he stood there, his eyes riveted on that tattoo.
    She looked over her shoulder again. “It’s called a tramp stamp,” she said. “I got it when I was fifteen, to be cool.”
    “I know what it’s called. I just can’t make out what it is.”
    “It’s vines in the shape of my name, and I’m not showing you any more of it. Let’s get this show on the road, huh?”
    “Right,” he said, going off to his toolbox. And he thought, I’m taking orders from her. Why am I not the least bit surprised?
    After he delivered what she asked for, she completely ignored him, so he took Lucy to his office. He heard Ellie humming, moving around the drop cloth, pounding at the hinges to remove the door. She didn’t ask questions, nor did she need any help with the heavy door or with the mirror over the sink. He could hear her peeling off strips of masking tape for the borders. Completely self-sufficient and low maintenance. That’s what a good pastor’s assistant was, whether painting or managing the office. Now, that did surprise him.
    Before sitting down to make a renovation list, Noah decided to tour the old building once more. The church was large but simple. Upstairs was a sanctuary that could hold about three hundred people. There were large double doors at the east end of the church that opened onto a foyer. From here, four wide stairs led up to the sanctuary level and a wider foyer—wide enough for a staging area, as for the gathering of a bridal party. Large interior double doors opened to the aisle, which led toward the stained-glass window, then two more steps led up to a deep stage that had room for the altar, the pulpit, a couple of choir pews. Up here Noah would find room for the piano that had been Merry’s.
    There were doors to the right and left at the front of the church. To the left was the pastor’s office—a room large enough for his desk, shelves and filing cabinets plus a big round table for meetings. Outside that office, the stairs led down to the basement and a side exit door. On the other side of the sanctuary was another room of equal size that could serve as a secretary’s