Driftwood Bay (Hope Harbor #5) - Irene Hannon Page 0,26
read the appeal in the church bulletin two days ago for an English teacher for the Shabos.
If Logan could change his entire life for one little girl, how could she not offer to spend a few hours a week helping a family who’d suffered unimaginable trauma?
Halting in the middle of the garden, she took a steadying breath and pulled out her cell.
Forty-eight hours had passed since she’d read the appeal in the bulletin for a tutor. If no one had yet stepped forward, she had to fill that role.
Reverend Baker answered on the second ring, and once they exchanged a few pleasantries, she made her offer, giving him a quick overview of her credentials.
After she finished, the line was silent.
“Reverend Baker?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m here. I was just stunned for a moment. I had no idea someone with your background and experience was in our midst. I always think of you as the lavender lady.”
“That’s what I am now—and I had no plans to revisit my former life. But I understand the urgency of the situation. Unless you’ve already filled the job?”
“Not that I know of, but I haven’t spoken with Father Murphy since Sunday. Let me give him a call and one of us will get back to you ASAP.”
“No hurry on my end.”
“But a big one on ours. It must be dreadful to live in a place where you can’t communicate with the locals. Rectifying that situation is our top priority. Thank you, my dear, for your willingness to take this on. We’ll be back in touch—and God bless you.”
The line went dead, and Jeannette slid the cell back in her pocket as she headed for her workshop. She had plenty to do to get ready for the first farmer’s market on Friday, and sitting around thinking about her neighbor’s sacrifices or the Shabos’ plight wasn’t productive.
Several minutes later, as she set to work in the small structure that was imbued with the soothing scent of lavender, Father Murphy’s name popped up on the screen of her vibrating phone.
Reverend Baker had been serious about an ASAP response.
Either they’d already found someone, or the padre was anxious to sign her up before she changed her mind.
Based on the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, it was the latter.
His greeting confirmed that. “Jeannette! I just spoke with Reverend Baker. You are a godsend—and I mean that literally. I was beside myself trying to figure out where to find an English teacher when neither of our bulletins produced any volunteers. I was getting ready to widen the plea to neighboring parishes.”
“I’m glad I could help—but please understand, I haven’t done this sort of work in more than four years.”
“I’m confident your skills will come back once you dive in—like riding a bicycle. How soon can you begin?”
“Uh . . . later this week?” It would take her at least that long to organize a lesson plan—and psych herself up for the job.
“Wonderful! I’ll alert the Shabos. I know Susan will be happy to translate as you work out the details of a schedule. Let me give you her number, and I’ll pass yours on to her. Do you have a pen handy?”
“Yes.” She crossed to the counter, her pulse accelerating. This was happening much too fast. “Ready.” Or not.
He recited the number, and she jotted it down. “If you incur any expense, be sure to let us know. We have a fund for reimbursements.”
“There isn’t usually much cost involved with tutoring.”
“Well, your contribution of time and talent is sufficient. We don’t expect you to dip into your personal funds too.”
“If I incur any major expense, I’ll let you know.”
“Excellent. And I want you to know I’ll be saying a special prayer for you at all my Masses this week and asking God to bless your work.”
“I appreciate that.”
More than he’d ever know.
Because as they said their good-byes and the full impact of what she’d agreed to do sank in, a major case of the shakes assailed her.
For a woman who’d vowed to live a solitary life, this was a huge leap.
And a dangerous one.
Hard as she might try to keep the tutoring gig impersonal, the Shabos could end up infiltrating her heart—unless she stayed strong.
Straightening her spine, she fisted her hands.
She could manage this.
All she had to do was be pleasant and professional, help the family learn enough English to get by, and walk away once the job was over.
But in the meantime, she would take every single prayer Father