Read Online Tides of Love (Seaswept Seduction Series) by Tracy Sumner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tracy Sumner
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"Hammering."
"Yes, I can see that. No need. And if there are repairs that need to be done, I can do them."
A gust of wind chose that moment to race in from the ocean and slap a loose shutter against the house. Noah lifted a tawny brow, the edges of his lips curling. "You're doing a fine job."
"The school takes most of my time. Besides, I'm not really very handy. Well, Widow Wynne can't afford workers and neither can—"
"A deal, Elle."
"Deal?" Clearing her throat, she forced the nip of suspicion aside. Deals created by men never seemed to get women anywhere in her experience.
He braced his elbows on his knees, dipped his head, and laughed. A stray lock of hair on the crown fluttered like a flag. Elle twisted her fingers in the folds of her skirt to keep her hands from wandering where they shouldn't. "What kind of deal?"
Noah's head lifted, his eyes warm and clear. "Don't look so dubious. This isn't one of Caleb's deals. You don't have to worry about it biting you in...." He laughed again and rubbed his hand over his mouth. "You don't have to worry, that's all I'm saying. I worked as a laborer to put myself through university, so I'm qualified. I'll purchase the supplies and complete the repairs in exchange for help I'm going to need for the next month. Someone to transcribe my notes. A student of yours, possibly."
"There is one student." She worried her lip between her teeth. "Annie's trying to improve her penmanship, which is adequate, but her reading skills are good. Only, this sounds like a lousy deal for you. You pay for the materials and do the work?"
"Let me worry about that. You can't ignore the repairs any longer. This blessed place is collapsing around you." He nudged his spectacles higher on the slope of his nose. "And my notes aren't complicated, simple details concerning the lab's construction. I'm to wire Chicago once a week with a report. Took it by this morning, and the telegraph operator wasn't able to read my handwriting."
"It's not that bad."
He paused in mid-motion, the hammer dangling from his fingers. "How do you know?"
A gust of air swept her hair into her face. She brushed it aside, concentrating on the shadows pooling at her feet and the distant rumble of thunder. "I have your book, the one you gave my father. He left it in the restaurant, and I, I brought it home with me. I thumbed through a chapter or two last night. You made notes in the margins. Notes I could decipher. Easily." She shrugged.
"You read some of it?" He sounded incredulous.
She planted her hands on her hips. "I can read."
His thoughtful gaze skimmed her face. "I know that Elle. I just had no idea you would be interested."
"A long time ago, I had books similar to yours, but I"—no need to tell him she had been forced to sell her precious textbooks to raise money for the school—"don't have them anymore."
"Which essay did you read?" He propped the hammer against his hip and stretched out his legs. The eager expression on his face struck a deep cord, and she forgot his question. "Elle? Which essay did you read?"
"Um, something to do with average catches and the number of fish breeding. Nothing much."
Surprise widened his eyes; a faint smile curved his mouth. "By calculating average catches, we can demonstrate reduction in stock and generate an estimate of the number of fish breeding in a given area. It's what we call a skeleton study, time-consuming and exhausting, and basic. I'm going to conduct one here. God knows, I have the time. I went by the lab site this morning and Tyre Mcintosh, the master draftsman, told me to stay away for the rest of the week." He flicked a blade of grass from his shoe. "Said he didn't need some fish specialist hanging over his shoulder, telling him how to hammer."
"Sounds like Tyre. Interference doesn't sit well with him. Nor with the fishermen."
He grinned, the first truly genuine smile she had seen since his return three days earlier. "I'll use my considerable charm to persuade
"Yes, I can see that. No need. And if there are repairs that need to be done, I can do them."
A gust of wind chose that moment to race in from the ocean and slap a loose shutter against the house. Noah lifted a tawny brow, the edges of his lips curling. "You're doing a fine job."
"The school takes most of my time. Besides, I'm not really very handy. Well, Widow Wynne can't afford workers and neither can—"
"A deal, Elle."
"Deal?" Clearing her throat, she forced the nip of suspicion aside. Deals created by men never seemed to get women anywhere in her experience.
He braced his elbows on his knees, dipped his head, and laughed. A stray lock of hair on the crown fluttered like a flag. Elle twisted her fingers in the folds of her skirt to keep her hands from wandering where they shouldn't. "What kind of deal?"
Noah's head lifted, his eyes warm and clear. "Don't look so dubious. This isn't one of Caleb's deals. You don't have to worry about it biting you in...." He laughed again and rubbed his hand over his mouth. "You don't have to worry, that's all I'm saying. I worked as a laborer to put myself through university, so I'm qualified. I'll purchase the supplies and complete the repairs in exchange for help I'm going to need for the next month. Someone to transcribe my notes. A student of yours, possibly."
"There is one student." She worried her lip between her teeth. "Annie's trying to improve her penmanship, which is adequate, but her reading skills are good. Only, this sounds like a lousy deal for you. You pay for the materials and do the work?"
"Let me worry about that. You can't ignore the repairs any longer. This blessed place is collapsing around you." He nudged his spectacles higher on the slope of his nose. "And my notes aren't complicated, simple details concerning the lab's construction. I'm to wire Chicago once a week with a report. Took it by this morning, and the telegraph operator wasn't able to read my handwriting."
"It's not that bad."
He paused in mid-motion, the hammer dangling from his fingers. "How do you know?"
A gust of air swept her hair into her face. She brushed it aside, concentrating on the shadows pooling at her feet and the distant rumble of thunder. "I have your book, the one you gave my father. He left it in the restaurant, and I, I brought it home with me. I thumbed through a chapter or two last night. You made notes in the margins. Notes I could decipher. Easily." She shrugged.
"You read some of it?" He sounded incredulous.
She planted her hands on her hips. "I can read."
His thoughtful gaze skimmed her face. "I know that Elle. I just had no idea you would be interested."
"A long time ago, I had books similar to yours, but I"—no need to tell him she had been forced to sell her precious textbooks to raise money for the school—"don't have them anymore."
"Which essay did you read?" He propped the hammer against his hip and stretched out his legs. The eager expression on his face struck a deep cord, and she forgot his question. "Elle? Which essay did you read?"
"Um, something to do with average catches and the number of fish breeding. Nothing much."
Surprise widened his eyes; a faint smile curved his mouth. "By calculating average catches, we can demonstrate reduction in stock and generate an estimate of the number of fish breeding in a given area. It's what we call a skeleton study, time-consuming and exhausting, and basic. I'm going to conduct one here. God knows, I have the time. I went by the lab site this morning and Tyre Mcintosh, the master draftsman, told me to stay away for the rest of the week." He flicked a blade of grass from his shoe. "Said he didn't need some fish specialist hanging over his shoulder, telling him how to hammer."
"Sounds like Tyre. Interference doesn't sit well with him. Nor with the fishermen."
He grinned, the first truly genuine smile she had seen since his return three days earlier. "I'll use my considerable charm to persuade
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