Read Online Jezebel's Blues by Barbara Samuel, Ruth Wind - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Samuel, Ruth Wind
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snake.”
Celia finally became aware that he’d obviously been working for quite some time this morning. His shirt hung open, his jeans were grimy and a sheen of sweat covered his chest and face. Even so, he was the most incredibly perfect human being she’d ever seen.
He gestured toward the house. “Come on in here and let me show you a couple of things.”
“Do you think there will be more snakes?”
“I doubt it, but I’ll look around for you before I go.”
She nodded.
“Meanwhile, I want you to know what’s going on, so come here.”
Celia followed him inside, trying to ignore the mud and mess. The sheer work involved in making the house look normal again was daunting
“I used a garden hose to wash out the bathroom so you can use it. The toilet may not be real reliable for a week or two because the lines get clogged—but they’ll clear.” He wiped a hand over his eyes and gestured toward the far-from-sparkling, but usable room. “At least you can take showers, but it’ll drain real slow, too, so make ’em short.”
Celia sighed. A shower. “Thank you, Eric.”
He moved again, businesslike and to the point. “Come on, there’s more.” He led her down a ball to the backyard. “The porch steps got washed away,” he warned, “so just jump down this way.”
Celia followed. He pointed to a section of the foundation under the kitchen. “I checked everything all the way around, and this here’s the only problem. Water washed away a lot of the mortar in these stones and you’re gonna have to get somebody out here to fix it right, but in the meantime, I braced it with these two-by-fours.”
Impressed that he’d even thought to look for foundation damage or to hose down the bathroom or that he knew that the drains would run slowly for a while, Celia nodded. “I really appreciate it.”
He shrugged and headed around the house. “Judging by what we got, it’ll be a while before anybody can make these little repairs for you, and I wanted to make sure you’d be okay.” His tone was gruff. He pointed to a window in the kitchen that had a flat piece of plywood nailed neatly over it. “I got that one open before she flooded, but I guess a rock or something got it anyway.”
“I can’t believe I slept through you nailing and sawing.”
“You were out like a light this morning.” He raised a devilish eyebrow. “Old Jack’ll do that.”
She flushed slightly, then raised her own eyebrows. “You should know.”
“That I do.” Eric bent his head and his wavy black hair fell over his forehead. He shifted from foot to foot for a moment, but Celia just waited.
“You aren’t gonna be able to use the lower level for a while, not until they get somebody in with a fire hose to clean it out. You’re gonna need a fan or something in that attic or you’ll suffocate.”
“Okay.” Not that she knew if there would even be one available. “I can use my garden hose on the kitchen, right?”
He nodded. “I turned the breakers off at the back of the house, just to let everything dry out. There probably won’t be any power for at least a few days, but it’s a good idea to leave everything off anyway.”
“All right.” She smiled. “I wish I could offer you breakfast for your trouble.”
“I’ll take a rain check,” he said in his gravelly voice. “Meantime, I better get on the road and find out how my sister is.”
He wouldn’t take a rain check, Celia knew. Once he walked away from here, she would never see him again. What was that old song about rolling stones?
Whatever. As Eric went back inside to fetch his backpack, she knew it applied. He was a rolling stone, a drifter with restless feet, and he’d no more hang his hat in one spot than her father had. Seemed to be a prevalent trait in the men from Gideon.
Celia looked at the pecan trees, giant and fruitful. She crossed her arms. Let them wander, then. Here, in this peaceful farmhouse, she’d finally found security and a
Celia finally became aware that he’d obviously been working for quite some time this morning. His shirt hung open, his jeans were grimy and a sheen of sweat covered his chest and face. Even so, he was the most incredibly perfect human being she’d ever seen.
He gestured toward the house. “Come on in here and let me show you a couple of things.”
“Do you think there will be more snakes?”
“I doubt it, but I’ll look around for you before I go.”
She nodded.
“Meanwhile, I want you to know what’s going on, so come here.”
Celia followed him inside, trying to ignore the mud and mess. The sheer work involved in making the house look normal again was daunting
“I used a garden hose to wash out the bathroom so you can use it. The toilet may not be real reliable for a week or two because the lines get clogged—but they’ll clear.” He wiped a hand over his eyes and gestured toward the far-from-sparkling, but usable room. “At least you can take showers, but it’ll drain real slow, too, so make ’em short.”
Celia sighed. A shower. “Thank you, Eric.”
He moved again, businesslike and to the point. “Come on, there’s more.” He led her down a ball to the backyard. “The porch steps got washed away,” he warned, “so just jump down this way.”
Celia followed. He pointed to a section of the foundation under the kitchen. “I checked everything all the way around, and this here’s the only problem. Water washed away a lot of the mortar in these stones and you’re gonna have to get somebody out here to fix it right, but in the meantime, I braced it with these two-by-fours.”
Impressed that he’d even thought to look for foundation damage or to hose down the bathroom or that he knew that the drains would run slowly for a while, Celia nodded. “I really appreciate it.”
He shrugged and headed around the house. “Judging by what we got, it’ll be a while before anybody can make these little repairs for you, and I wanted to make sure you’d be okay.” His tone was gruff. He pointed to a window in the kitchen that had a flat piece of plywood nailed neatly over it. “I got that one open before she flooded, but I guess a rock or something got it anyway.”
“I can’t believe I slept through you nailing and sawing.”
“You were out like a light this morning.” He raised a devilish eyebrow. “Old Jack’ll do that.”
She flushed slightly, then raised her own eyebrows. “You should know.”
“That I do.” Eric bent his head and his wavy black hair fell over his forehead. He shifted from foot to foot for a moment, but Celia just waited.
“You aren’t gonna be able to use the lower level for a while, not until they get somebody in with a fire hose to clean it out. You’re gonna need a fan or something in that attic or you’ll suffocate.”
“Okay.” Not that she knew if there would even be one available. “I can use my garden hose on the kitchen, right?”
He nodded. “I turned the breakers off at the back of the house, just to let everything dry out. There probably won’t be any power for at least a few days, but it’s a good idea to leave everything off anyway.”
“All right.” She smiled. “I wish I could offer you breakfast for your trouble.”
“I’ll take a rain check,” he said in his gravelly voice. “Meantime, I better get on the road and find out how my sister is.”
He wouldn’t take a rain check, Celia knew. Once he walked away from here, she would never see him again. What was that old song about rolling stones?
Whatever. As Eric went back inside to fetch his backpack, she knew it applied. He was a rolling stone, a drifter with restless feet, and he’d no more hang his hat in one spot than her father had. Seemed to be a prevalent trait in the men from Gideon.
Celia looked at the pecan trees, giant and fruitful. She crossed her arms. Let them wander, then. Here, in this peaceful farmhouse, she’d finally found security and a
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