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

box, along with her belt, and looked back to me. “Sorry.”
    I cloaked my hopeful eagerness with a shrug. “Just thought I’d ask.”
    My silence served as bait.
    “Are you behind?”
    “Not really, but it’s supposed to be a scorcher tomorrow. I’m going to keep working for a while, and I thought maybe…” Catching her eye, I held on to the last vowel as if it were a lure.
    A smile bloomed full, along with a rose on her cheeks. “I’m pretty good with an old-fashioned hammer.”
    Snagged. “Are you sure?” Like I was going to let her wiggle off the hook. Sounded nice though, and it kept the smile on her face.
    “Sure.” She bent to take up her tool belt again. “I haven’t anything else to do.”
    I waited, trying not to look like a little boy on the winning soccer team while she fastened her tools around her waist. We made our way outside and up the ladder, and I ripped open another package of shingles.
    Setting half of the stack in front of her, I hiked an eyebrow toward my hat. “So, how good are you?”
    Sarah mirrored my expression. “Do you honestly expect me to answer that?”
    I laughed. “Let’s see it.”
    “I’m not a circus monkey.” She ironed her features, but amusement sparkled in her eyes.
    “Certainly not.” I set aside my nail gun and snagged the good ol’-fashioned hammer out of my tool belt. “How about a race?”
    She snorted. “I think the nailer would be faster.”
    Raising my eyebrows, I challenged her in silence, and she smirked. “All right. Ready, go.”
    Her hammer popped from its loop, and she somehow managed to grab a shingle and a nail nearly simultaneously. She had one nail completely sunk and another started before I hit my knees. I snagged my hammer and set my rhythm to match hers. She stayed ahead of me though. Competitive drive aside, I was pretty sure losing this draw would be the most fun I’d have all summer.
    Or maybe not. A guy could hope.
    We covered the remainder of the east facing eave as the sun tapped the horizon. Perfect timing. We still had enough light to clean up.
    “I think it was a tie.” Sarah swiped her forehead.
    Generous. She’d kicked my tail.
    “Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “I won.”
    “How do you figure?”
    “I got you to do half my work.”
    “Nice.” Trying to look irritated, laughter bubbled from her mouth instead. It sounded like a light spring rain against the covered porch at my parents’ home. Or the rustling of trees in a summer breeze below Avery’s back deck. Or the swishing grass on the Sandhills in late spring.
    Favorite places. Favorite sounds.
    I plopped down next to her, and she didn’t hide under the bill of her hat. “So, I think I owe you dinner or something.”
    Her back jolted straight. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
    Dang. Wrong turn again. Thought bubbles, please. I need a little help.
    I leaned back on my elbows and watched her. Alarm melted into confusion. Maybe she was as bad at this as I was. If that was the case, persistence might be worth the risk. I got her on the roof, didn’t I?
    “What’s your story, Sarah Sharpe?”
    “My story?” Her eyebrows gathered, wrinkling the skin above her nose. She stared, and I stared back. Licking her lips, she relaxed a bit. “What do you want to know?”
    “Let’s start with who taught you to swing a hammer, and see how far you get before I finish my hamburger.”
    Her brow wrinkled again.
    Maybe I was coming on too strong. Oh well—no going back now. I could play it easy, and maybe she’d relax. “There’s a small-town grill by the Skyline Inn. Their burgers are great, and I’m starving.”
    Sarah bit her bottom lip. I pretended not to notice. I hopped to my feet and gathered my gear, lowered my gun down to the ground, and then headed down the ladder. She had nothing to do but follow. We wound cords and replaced tools, and when the work was done, I walked her to her truck.
    “It’s down on Highway 20.” I made my voice matter of