“Thanks. I’ll ask Megan what she wants to do.”
With a final wave, John left them to meet his next appointment.
“I need to leave, too,” Ryan said. “I promised Sophie I’d meet her and the boys in town for lunch. Are we still okay for dinner tonight?”
“Six o’clock at my place,” Willow said with a smile. “And don’t bring anything.”
Ryan sighed. “You know what Sophie is like. If she doesn’t bring at least three dishes she feels as though she hasn’t contributed.”
Willow knew there was no sense arguing. “I’m looking forward to catching up with everyone.”
“We’re looking forward to spending time with you, too. It’s been too long.” Ryan hugged her. “I’ll bring one of my student’s albums with me. We recorded it in my studio at Emerald Lake.”
“That sounds great. I’d love to hear it.”
“See you tonight.”
As Ryan wove through the road crew, lighting technicians, and construction team, Willow could only be humbled by his willingness to help people who couldn’t afford their own home.
It was taking a marathon effort to organize the concerts but, with everyone’s help, they wouldn’t be forgotten in a hurry.
While Willow wasbusy getting ready for the concert, Zac spent most of Thursday and Friday at The Welcome Center, seeing patients.
Instead of going home after his last appointment, he decided to visit the old steamboat museum where the tiny homes were being built.
Although he’d heard a lot about the construction process from Willow and John, he wasn’t sure what to expect. As soon he walked through the heavy wooden doors, he knew this was as unique as Pastor John’s original idea.
Two more homes were in the process of being constructed.
“Zac? What are you doing here?” Mr. Jessop stood beside a workbench holding a hammer.
“I finished early at The Welcome Center. I thought I’d come and see how the tiny homes are made.”
Mr. Jessop slid the hammer into his tool belt and pointed to a clipboard on the wall. “You’ll need to sign in and wear a hard hat. The health and safety rules make everyone’s life more difficult than they should.”
Zac smiled. He’d spent enough time at The Welcome Center to know Mr. Jessop didn’t mean anything by his grumbling. Inside, he was as soft as a pat of butter sizzling on a skillet. “It’s okay. I don’t mind signing my life away.”
“The foreman has finished early, but I’m happy to show you around.”
“I’d appreciate it, but only if you’re not too busy.”
“Never too busy for you. Besides, I can’t have you walking around a construction area on your own. John wouldn’t be impressed if you tripped over an extension cord. And you can stop calling me Mr. Jessop. My name is Stan.”
Zac took the hard hat Stan handed him. “Thanks. How long have you been volunteering on the project?”
“Almost since the beginning. When I ran my own ranch, I knew enough of everything to get by. If a building needed fixing, I did it. I figured my construction skills would come in handy for these homes. When I’m not at the community garden in The Welcome Center, I come down here. Were you thinking of volunteering?”
“Depending on how many hours I work in town, I might be able to spend a couple of afternoons on the tiny homes.”
“Don’t be too optimistic about the time you’ll have available. Knowing the folks in Sapphire Bay, they’ll keep you busy with their ailments.”
“For the first few weeks I’ll be a novelty. Once everyone gets used to me, things might slow down.”
“As I said, don’t be surprised if that novelty time frame takes longer than you think. Anyway, here’s the first house. The boys from Pastor John’s construction program fixed the drywall to the building this morning. Patrick, another volunteer, is busy plastering.”
Zac stuck his head inside the front door.
A man in his early eighties turned around and smiled. “Have you come to give me a hand?”
