Read Online The Carpenter & the Queen by Michelle Lashier - Free Book Online

her books were now organized into new bookshelves. The
medieval books sat on the second shelf from the bottom.
    Taking her own books to a library customer
probably set a bad precedent. Claire had been too forward as well.
She hadn’t meant to be, but something inside her switched on when
she was talking to Paul. Instantly, she felt guilty and somehow
disloyal to what she and Will had shared. Many of these books they
had bought together. She couldn’t show them to someone else, even
if they weren’t about her.
    But weren’t they? Wasn’t that why she had
bought them—because she needed to believe that her life was a fairy
tale—or could be?
    She wished she hadn’t offered to share, but
she couldn’t break her word. And what could it hurt to have Paul
come around the library? She pulled out several books, stopped by
her desk drawer to grab a pad of sticky notes, and went downstairs
to her room. She would enjoy looking through the stack tonight once
Sam was in bed. Tomorrow, she would keep the books in a bag, and if
Paul didn’t come, then no one had to know she had brought them.
    After supper, Sam wanted to play chess.
Claire wondered if his overhearing her conversation with Paul had
inspired the desire. After he had cleared the table, Sam went to
get the game while she loaded the dishwasher. When she joined him
in the dining room, he was just setting up the pieces.
    “I want to be black,” Sam said.
    “Are you sure? White goes first.”
    “Black is cooler,” Sam replied. “Darth Vader
wears black.” He had just completed his row of pawns and now was
working the second row.
    Claire started picking out her pieces and
placing them on the board. “Your daddy liked to play chess. He
learned how to play from a buddy of his when they were on temporary
duty in Bosnia.”
    “Did Daddy win a lot?”
    “I don’t think so. He bought this set at the
PX when he got back. Sometimes his friend came over to play in the
evening, but I never stayed to watch.”
    “Because you were taking care of me?”
    “You weren’t born yet. I was painting. I
used to do that a lot.”
    Sam looked up to the wall beside the table
where one of Claire’s paintings, an early rendering of the castle
Burg Eltz, hung.
    “I’ve never seen you do that,” he said.
    “Sure you have. It’s just been so long you
don’t remember.”
    “There are a lot of things I don’t remember.
Do you think there’s something wrong with my brain?”
    Claire held back a smile. “No. You’re fine.
We just forget things. It’s what happens.”
    “So it’s okay that I forget stuff about
Dad?”
    “You were so small,” Claire comforted.
“There’s no way you could remember everything about him.”
    “Do you?”
    She bit her lip, considering her answer. “I
remember the important things, like how much he loved me and you,
how he loved being a soldier. I remember when you were a baby, he
brought you in to where I was painting because he wanted you to see
what I was doing.”
    She felt the familiar restriction in her
chest as she recalled the memory. “I remember he said, ‘Sammy, this
is what Mommy looks like when she’s happy.’”
    “Is that why you don’t paint anymore?”
    “You mean, because I’m not happy?”
    Sam nodded.
    “Different things make us happy at different
times in our lives. It doesn’t mean we’ve lost anything.” At
least, I hope not . “Now, let’s play a game. You start.”
    Sam frowned at the board then jumped out of
his chair. “I’ll be right back.”
    She heard him pound up the stairs and pound
back down a few seconds later. When he entered the dining room, he
was carrying her queen.
    “I think she should play,” Sam said.
    Claire fought irritation that Sam thought of
the piece as a toy. She wasn’t sure she wanted it handled so
freely.
    “She’s prettier than the regular one,” Sam
said. “I wanted her on my side.”
    “She doesn’t match the set,” Claire
protested. “Daddy bought that for me a