Luke met her eyes.
“Then let me make sure this place feels safe tonight,” he said, voice low and steady as he took the board from her arms.
The sharp winter air bit at Amayah’s cheeks as Luke steadied the plywood over the broken window, his broad shoulders blocking the worst of the wind.
He worked with quiet focus, his movements efficient and practiced. The taps of the hammer seemed measured, and he carefully tested the fit.
“You’ve done this before.” She didn’t try to keep the note of admiration from her voice.
He gave a faint shrug. “My dad believed every man should know how to fix what the world tries to break.”
She smiled softly. “That’s a good philosophy.”
“Didn’t always feel like it when I was a kid.” He lined up another nail. “But I suppose some lessons settle in over time.”
She watched as Luke secured the last corner, noting how his rugged competence contrasted with the gentleness he’d shown the kids earlier. His posture was relaxed but attentive, everymovement deliberate and grounded. Snow clung to his dark lashes and the faint stubble along his jaw caught the dying light, lending him an air of worn honesty rather than polish.
He wasn’t conventionally smooth. But something about him felt steady—like he was the kind of man who didn’t just say he would stay, but who meant the words.
“Your turn,” he said lightly as he hammered another nail in place. “What about your family? Are they nearby?”
A flicker of something deeper passed through her eyes. Not pain exactly—more like memory. “They live in Chicago. That’s where I grew up, but I got a job here after college.”
“Are you close?” He grabbed another nail.
Amayah shrugged. “Not really. They’re pretty much living their own lives, and I’m living mine.”
He stepped back from the window to observe his work. “That surprises me. You seem like the type who’d have a close-knit family.”
“My dad died when I was twelve, and when I was eighteen my mom married a man who was the opposite of my dad. He owns his own company and even has a private jet. I couldn’t help but feel like everything my dad had raised me to be disappeared when my mom remarried. All her values seemed to change.”
“That sounds tough.”
Amayah nodded. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Sometimes I look at my mom, and I don’t feel like I even know her. Maybe she thinks the same about me. Either way, I’m hoping my example will speak more to them than any argument I might try to make.”
“Beautiful and wise,” Luke murmured before immediately looking embarrassed, like he hadn’t meant to say the words.
Amayah felt the start of a smile curling at the edge of her lips.
She knew she could be a lot. That she had strong opinions. That she wasn’t one to back down.
A lot of people couldn’t handle that. A lot of guys she’d dated couldn’t handle that.
And that never bothered her. If two people weren’t meant to be together, then they weren’t meant to be together.
There was no need trying to rewrite the plan God had for her future. Her decisions were hers, but she’d always felt God’s steady hand of guidance in everything she did.
Did she get things wrong sometimes? Of course. But that didn’t mean she stopped trying.
Memories of her relationship with Isaac tried to fill her mind, but she pushed them away.
Not now.
Luke drove the final nail home with one precise tap and stepped back. “There. It’ll hold until you can get the glass replaced.”
“Thank you.” Emotion colored her words. “Not just for this. For staying.”
His gaze held hers just a little too long. Then he suddenly stepped back as if he needed to create distance. “Speaking of which . . . I should probably get going. I’ve got another appointment across town.”
