AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He nodded. “It was built in the 1800s. All brick, with large stained-glass windows and the kind of workmanship that’s hard to come by these days.”
“Why is it empty?”
“I think folks stopped going to church, and they couldn’t afford to keep it with such low numbers, so they just closed up.”
“That’s sad,” Sidney murmured. “A place built in love and faith to just be abandoned like that.”
Beck wasn’t a particularly religious man, but he saw her point.
“I did a series of videos on old churches in the South a few years back,” she said. “The detail and architecture on a lot of them was impressive, and the stories of the people they belonged to were incredibly inspiring.”
“Videos?” Link asked. “What is it exactly that you do?”
Beck noted the surprise on her cheeks and the way she averted her gaze. The woman didn’t like calling attention to herself. Which was odd considering her job. He’d googled her a few days back and had been surprised himself to see that Sidney Barrett was a bona fide celebrity in her field. An up-and-coming Martha Stewart. It added another layer to the woman that made her more interesting.
“I have a lifestyle show and website,” she said. “As well as every social media platform you can think of.”
Link winked. “So you’re on the telly.”
“I am.”
“I’ll follow you on Instagram if you follow me.”
I’ll think about it,” she replied wryly.
“You should take Sid to see the church,” Molly said. There was an awkward pause as Link, Sid and Beck looked her way. “I mean, if she wants to go see it.”
Beck was happy to give Sid an out, considering she’d been put on the spot. “I’m sure Sid has better things to do other than poke around old abandoned churches.”
“Actually, I’d love to see it.”
It probably should have surprised Beck that the thought of sharing his work and this church in particular should feel good, but he didn’t dwell on it too much. “It’s an early trip. I’m meeting Olivia at seven thirty, so I’ll be heading out shortly after seven.”
“I’ll be ready.” Her answer was light, though she didn’t quite meet his gaze. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but since Beck wasn’t the best at reading signals on a good day, right now he was tired and decided it was best not to overthink.
“Okay.” Beck took a step back. “I should go. Thanks for the pizza, bro. I’ll see you Saturday.”
“What’s happening on Saturday?” Molly asked, clearly puzzled.
Nate dropped a kiss to her nose. “Our hockey tournament and the dinner and dance.”
“Oh. Right.” She chuckled. “Pregnancy brain.”
“Yeah, well, don’t feel bad. It’s spreading.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Molly teased lightly.
“I just got a text from the garage. Nothing catastrophic took down my truck. It was, ah, out of gas.”
“Takes balls to admit something like that.” Beck laughed. He said his goodbyes and headed back to his place. When he got there, he cut the engine and stared up at the dark house for a few moments. The house was nothing to look at it; in fact, it held no warm fuzzies for him either. It was just a place to hang his hat and hold the bed that he slept in.
He thought about the church and the plans inside his head. And he wondered…maybe this would be the one that finally felt like home? Bah, he thought. The Manchester place was supposed to be the one. Hell, he used to brag to Cate that he’d buy it for her. When he finally finished the house, after working on it for nearly three years, he’d walked out, and if not for his brother buying it, he’d probably never have gone back.
Not used to feeling so damn melancholy, he yanked on the door handle and slipped from the truck. He’d barely made it inside when almost immediately, a ball of purring, meowing, and shaking fur hit him in the leg and began to claw his ankles.
“Hey, there,” he said, scooping up Jingle. The little girl rubbed her head and cheeks against him, almost aggressively, and began to knead his chest with her tiny paws. She looked up at him, those green eyes of hers wide, that little mouth and those whiskers shaking as she meowed over and over again. “Geez. I haven’t been gone that long.”
She meowed, a long and plaintive wail, and the hairs on the b
