A Gift of Family (Love Inspired) by Ross Mia

Author:Ross, Mia [Ross, Mia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Love Inspired
Published: 2012-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Monday morning, Seth arrived at the church work site around seven. There were a few things to do before they could start framing, and he figured they’d go quicker if he did them himself. After the grumbling he’d overheard, he expected some push-back from at least a couple of the volunteers. While he’d never shrunk from a fight, it wasn’t his style to seek one out, either.

As if destroying the century-old tree wasn’t bad enough, the storm had thoroughly soaked the raised altar area. It was basically a simple stage, but he went over it carefully, stomping on the steps and platform to test the strength of the remaining wood. Still damp in spots, it gave in several places, and the splintering sounds he heard didn’t bode well for the supports underneath. He pulled a couple of face boards away and discovered that the structure, solid as it may have been in 1860, was far from sturdy now.

The best option was to pull it all out and rebuild it. No big deal, he thought, until he turned his attention to the damaged oak pews. The lumber had come from the forests around Harland, Gus had told him. Replacing the wood was no problem, but Seth feared matching the layers of different stains would be impossible. He could never mix the right color of brown in a million years. Michelangelo, maybe. Seth, not a chance.

Lisa.

Her name popped into his head with a suddenness that startled him. Crazy or not, he recognized that his subconscious had hit on the perfect solution to his aesthetic problem. With her artist’s eye for color, he had no doubt Lisa could come up with the stain he needed to blend his newly built pieces in with the old ones.

Pleased with the idea, he pulled out his phone and added a note to ask her about it. Then he tucked the phone away and grabbed a crowbar to start pulling the stage apart.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Seth recognized one of the complaining voices he’d heard the other day and looked up to find a fiftyish man in jeans and a flannel shirt glaring down at him. Arms folded, he looked ready to yank the tool from Seth’s hands and beat him with it.

Taking a quiet breath to settle his nerves, Seth stood and met the man’s anger head-on. “This wood is too saturated to be safe. It needs to be replaced.”

“Who told you that?”

“I did.” Hoping he looked friendly, Seth offered his hand. “Seth Hansen.”

“I know who you are,” the man shot back, eyes narrowed. “I just don’t know why you think you can start ripping our church apart without asking first.”

His claim to the church explained some of his bitterness toward Seth. It was understandable that a member of the close-knit congregation would feel that someone who belonged there should be the one in charge.

“I’m not,” Seth explained. “Pastor Charles asked me to look at the interior structure and replace anything the storm damaged.

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