Bluegrass Courtship by Allie Pleiter Page B

here, with all those annoying cameras around every corner. She settled for shrugging her shoulders, saying, “That’s a lot of optimism.”
    â€œMaybe, but that’s how I’ve always seen the world.” He swung his hand around the work site. “All this isn’t that much different than when I was just building houses with charity development organizations. I do it on a larger scale now, and more people know about it.”
    â€œYeah, just a few million.”
    He looked at her, intensely this time. “It was the same when it was three. Or twelve. Or two hundred. Honestly, it might have even been more fun.”
    They wound their way around the back to where the little preschool garden sat nestled into the hillside. The benches—artfully curved and tot-sized—were still unpainted and piled up on one side. The motor works for the fountain was still above ground, and the fishpond was upside down on the ground without its hole dug yet. Even so, she could clearly see the finished product in her head. It was darling. She couldn’t help but smile.
    â€œSee,” Drew said, nudging her with a grin on his face. “That’s something else I like about you. Other people look at this and they see a chaotic construction site. You look at this and you see the outcome. Check this out.” He walked over to where the cistern stood. “We’re gonna build a housing around this to make it look like a giant watering can.”
    Wasn’t that a bit much? Water tanks were fine just asthey were; they didn’t need to look like they came from a theme park.
    Drew caught her scowl and held up his hand. “No, no really, it’s brilliant when you think about it. Right now, all they know is that God made it storm and their preschool went away. Now, they’ll see how God waters the earth.” He made an oversize watering gesture next to the cistern. “Can’t you just see God’s mighty hand picking up this giant watering can to make their little garden grow?”
    â€œThe system works on gravity. I’m pretty sure it’s got to be underground to work best.”
    â€œYou can do them both ways. This way’s gonna be fabulous. So many people are already lending their hand to make it great. But it’s missing one thing. It’s missing your birdhouses. You haven’t said yes, yet.” He stared into her eyes as if her answer were the hinge pin to the entire project’s success. It did something to her, pulled up something from deep inside. She hesitated.
    â€œSay yes.” His voice softened to the quiet tones she’d heard in the dusk yesterday.
    She knew, right then, that it would be impossible not to say yes. It was bubbling up from somewhere under her ribs even now.
    â€œWill you? Please?” He winced. “I don’t want to build this garden without those birdhouses. I want your art to be part of the community that makes this garden.”
    She shifted her weight back onto one hip. “I need to think about it.”
    â€œWell, I suppose I can’t ask for more than that.” He picked up one of the fence posts lying on the ground and inspected it. “I’m not famous for my patience, but I can wait until I get back.”
    Janet sat on a stack of fencing. “Get back?”
    Drew sighed. “I’ve got to leave on Tuesday and go to a big network meeting about the next season. Glad-hand sponsors, pitch our cause, that sort of thing.”
    â€œYou’re leaving?”
    â€œJust for a day. They insisted I be there.” He sat down near her on the pile of fencing slats. “I’m not happy about it, but there doesn’t seem to be any other way.”
    â€œYou’re the boss. Who’s ordering you around?” Janet tucked one leg underneath her. “I hardly think God himself called you to head on up to L.A. and make nice with the sponsors.”
    Drew chuckled.