Free Bluegrass Courtship by Allie Pleiter Page A

compliment before pointing to another place on the plans. “Where’d this design come from?”
    â€œIsn’t it great? I picked it up from the communion table.”
    Janet shook her head. “Nope, you can’t.”
    Drew raised an eyebrow. “Preservation?”
    â€œWell, I think this more qualifies as good old Southern orneriness. Old man Nichols made that table, and accordingto my mama, he’ll think you’re copying him and pitch a fit for years to come.” She stuck her pencil behind her ear. “He has an Olympic medal in fit-pitching, so everyone knows to steer clear. It looks neat, but it’s not worth the battle.”
    â€œRats. I liked that one.”
    â€œIf it makes you feel any better, I do, too.”
    She’d paid him a compliment again. It didn’t sound so foreign in her voice this time, either. Janet Bishop was coming around. Slowly, inch by inch, but some part of him liked that. It meant she was thinking things through, that he was earning her allegiance, not just charming it out of her.
    By the end of the conversation, they’d actually laughed together often, their eyes holding for short bits of time. She really did have astounding eyes. The cream sweater she wore made them all the more dark and rich and mesmerizing. He found himself stopping for moments in midsentence, frozen by her eyes. He’d lost his train of thought more than once, bringing them to absurd pauses and flustered excuses. She smelled clean and flowery, like fine soap or a summer breeze. When she reached back up into her hair for the pencil and he noticed the tiny dangle earrings she wore, he’d almost knocked over his drink. She was beautiful. Not pretty—that was too flimsy a word—she was from the inside out beautiful.
    â€œCome back to the bus with me,” he said softly. It was as if it crept out of his mouth without his permission.
    Janet straightened instantly, giving him a harsh look. Every inch of the guard she’d finally let down shot back up twice as thick as before. “Said the spider to the fly,” she quoted in a bitter tone.
    What? It took Drew a minute before he realized what he’d said and how she took it. He’d stuck his foot in hismouth—again, only worse. “No! Wait, I didn’t mean it that way—what’s the matter with me lately? I meant come back to the meeting tonight.”
    Her look told Drew that question didn’t meet with any better reception. “Don’t do that,” she snapped, actually backing away a few steps from him.
    â€œDo what?”
    â€œDon’t make this about faith.”
    The ice in her words told him just how much of a misstep he’d made. This couldn’t even be qualified as resistance, this was blatant refusal. He’d struck a very raw nerve. Drew backed off to sit down on one of the chairs lined up on the side of her dining room. “But I can’t make this not be about faith—at least for me. It’s all about faith. You know what Missionnovation is all about. Your mom’s been a prayer warrior for us since the day we pulled in. Dinah goes to that church. Emily and Gil go to that church. Howard and your mother and even Vern go to that church. How can you be all around this church like you are, but not in it?”
    â€œI don’t know that it’s any of your business. I’m not ‘in it.’ People around here have learned to respect that, I’d appreciate it if you did, too.”
    â€œI can. I respect it.” And he did, to a point. The mystery of why Janet was surrounded by people of faith but was so resistant to faith herself was driving him crazy. It seemed too personal to ask anyone but Janet herself, but he’d hoped to be more sensitive about it than this. “I…I just mostly want to understand.” Great job, Downing, he yelled at himself. Way to stick your foot in it again. She began rolling up the