Read Online The Carpenter's Daughter by Jennifer Rodewald - Free Book Online

to the wall that divided the kitchen from the living area. “They’d like this open. More modern.”
    “Sure.” I nodded. That would make sense. Why was Homes For Hope building a chopped-up box anyway? That trend died a while ago. “That’s doable, but we’ll need a better header.”
    “Right.” Sarcasm lilted his voice as he pointed to the far outside wall. “I’ve got one put together.”
    He’d slapped a couple of two-by-fours together with common nails. Not good enough. “If they want this open, that’ll create an eight-foot gap on a load-bearing wall. That’ll require something more substantial.”
    Ed crossed his arms. “Look, girlie. I don’t know why Mack is playing whatever game you’re up to, but you’re not impressing anyone. Let the men handle this, and you go back to picking out fabric and paint colors.”
    My chin fell slack. Did he just call me girlie ? “Where are the building plans?”
    He clamped his jaw.
    I huffed. “You can’t put that rigged header in that wall and call it good. It won’t pass inspection.”
    “I’ve done lots of building, chica. I know what I’m doing.”
    Building what? Chicken coops?
    “Do we have a problem?” Jesse strode across the plywood from the would-be front door to where Ed and I stood.
    I didn’t know how long he’d been listening, and my face flamed at the whole scene. “No.”
    Ed unfolded his arms and looked at Jesse as if they shared a joke. “Girlie here thinks we can’t make this an open-concept space.”
    “I didn’t say that.” I scowled first at Ed and then Jesse. “I said it shouldn’t be a problem, but we needed a better header.”
    Jesse glanced at the wall. “How big an opening?”
    “Eight feet.” I wanted to spit on his boots. No, Jesse Chapman, we will not be friends.
    “I’ve got a header ready to go.” Ed’s tone added the nonverbal so there as he stuck a finger in the direction of the slapped-together header.
    Crossing the room to where Ed had pointed, Jesse made a quick inspection of the header in question. “Sarah’s right. That’s not going to do it.”
    Ed snorted. “You’re playing too, huh? What’s the deal—she your girlfriend?”
    Jesse scowled and laughed at the same time. Crossing back, he dropped an arm over Ed’s shoulders. “Probably better drop this, buddy, before you embarrass yourself. You’re working with people that know what they’re doing.”
    I looked to my boots, to the two-by-fours, to the plywood surrounding the house. The one place in life I felt confident, and I discovered I was an oddity there too. Instead of feeling like a person with purpose, I’d discovered I didn’t fit in anywhere.
    Thanks for that, Aunt Darcy.
     
    Jesse
    Most of the crew had left—gone home where dinner and family were waiting. That left the traveling crew to wrap up the day and to do the jobs that required more precision and focus. Mack, Sarah, and me, to be exact. That bit was a piece of luck. Or providence.
    I leaned against the framed-out doorway at the front of the house, watching Sarah work. Definitely proficient. And particular. Measure twice, cut once. That was generally the rule, but Sarah measured every step along the way, squared every corner as she set the frame for a kitchen island. Another alteration to the plans, at the owner’s request.
    I pushed off the studs and stepped forward. “Looks good.”
    Sarah glanced back before she finished pounding in a nail. One solid swing and the shaft sank into the two-by-four with the squeak that came from dead-on impact. Pretty sure she could make the nails sing like that with every drive.
    “Thanks.” Her hand slid from the end of the hammer to its neck before it dropped into its appointed loop on her tool belt. She moved like a gunslinger holstering a six-shooter. I didn’t think I’d want to face her in a draw.
    On second thought, that was an idea…
    “Did your day iron out?” I stopped in front of the U-shape frame she’d created. When