Whispers of the Heart Read Free Page B

clatter of Sam’s descent down the stairs. He hadn’t waited for the elevator. Slowly, Autumn turned to glance at the two men remaining. The air around her felt like an anticlimax.
    â€œWell…I hope everything turns out all right,” she said. “For the baby and mother.”
    â€œOh, I’m sure God and His angels are already on the job. Sam talks to Him every day. Never seen nothing like it,” Josh assured, shaking his head in puzzlement. “But Sam believes it.”
    â€œSo he should,” Brent replied. “Nothing like firsthand experience to make a believer out of you. He and Ashley had a scare last year when Sam was in a car smash-up,” Brent said for her benefit.
    Then he turned to Josh. “Say, let me give you a hand with finishing Miss Barbour’s shelves, here.”
    â€œUh, that’s very nice, but—” Autumn began.
    â€œWouldn’t mind your help, Brent,” Josh accepted. “Just another hour should finish it up.”
    â€œReally, perhaps it should wait,” she insisted as the two moved past her into the studio. Against the wall without windows, brass brackets stretched from near the floor to almost the fourteen-foot ceiling.
    â€œShouldn’t leave ’em half finished if we don’t have to.” Brent glanced at her with friendly determination as he shed his sport jacket and draped it across the back of the sofa. He then turned to study the project. “Hey, this will give you tons of storage, but you’ll need a ladder to get to the top shelves.”
    â€œYes, I suppose so. It’s intended to hold my supplies.” She gave up her protest as he picked up a prefinished board and blew on it to clear it of dust. Josh continued with the power drill, putting the last of the screws into a bracket.
    Autumn didn’t know what to do. Oh, there were things she ought to do—like put away the last of her clothes in her bedroom closet, or arrange the cooking utensils she’d brought from the old house. But she found herself unable to do anything except simply watch Brent concentrate on the job at hand. She had an unfettered view of him.
    While Josh checked the oak shelves, Brent climbed Josh’s ladder, the muscles beneath his brown striped golf shirt stretching as he reached above his head to place the shelves. In his effort to get them just right, his jutting chin struck her as purposeful, his relaxed mouth a model of male beauty. She liked his intense energy, and again thought of how to capture the effect of his movements in clay.
    That was all it was. Simply a fascination from an artist’s soul who saw beauty in many people. This one man in particular. Was that so unusual?
    More than an hour later, the two men stood back to examine their handiwork. Autumn stood beside them. The finished project looked awesome, with more shelves than she’d ever hoped for, or perhaps fill.
    â€œIs this everything you want, Ms. Barbour?” Josh asked.
    â€œYes, it looks wonderful,” she murmured, glancing at all her boxes. Perhaps she’d fill most of it, after all, but there’d be little wall space for pictures. She picked up an architectural drawing she’d done last year, wondering where it should go.
    Brent noticed her tentative move, then glanced at the picture.
    â€œI recognize that,” he said, giving the piece a nod. “Did you do those projected art drawings of the Genesis Project for Lewis and Blake?”
    â€œYes, I did. Why do you ask?”
    â€œI thought them very well done.”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œAre you on payroll there?”
    â€œNo, I freelance.” When she had to, she could work commercially. If the circumstances were…right. She never accepted a job unless it met her needs.
    â€œGreat!” He leaned one raised palm against her kitchen table, letting his arm take his weight. His smile spread easily across his face, while his ginger gaze held