Second Chance Love. Shannon Farrington

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       Chapter Four

      David did as he had promised and carried the ladder outside. His heart was still pounding from the moment he’d held her. Elizabeth had come to him. He wanted that. He wanted to soothe her fears, be the strength she needed, the place where she found comfort.

       But it isn’t me she is seeking.

      He’d known the moment he’d heard the soft sigh escape her lips and felt her sketchbook pressed between them. Elizabeth was courting a memory. He shouldn’t have allowed it, for her sake and his. The instant his arms had closed around her, the desire to kiss her had been strong. He couldn’t help but wonder if she would have permitted him to do so.

      You cad, he thought. She would slap your face if she knew what you were thinking. Perhaps she should. That would end this foolishness here and now.

      He realized he was going to have to keep his distance from her. He would have to keep up his guard.

       But just how am I going to do that?

      He popped a peppermint drop into his mouth and bit down hard. Leaning the ladder against the front of the house, he then climbed to the roof. Careful inspection revealed two slate tiles were cracked, four were loose and several others were missing altogether. David craned his neck to view the tree spread out above him. There were other limbs that looked as though they would come down given one hard Maryland thunderstorm, but he wouldn’t see to them today. The clouds at present indicated the imminent coming of steady rain. The roof needed to be repaired, lest the Martin women wake to an ugly stain on their parlor ceiling.

      He removed the oak limb. Perhaps the family had some spare tiles in the lean-to. If not, David would have to cover the roof until he could get new ones. He tried to keep his mind on the task at present, but it kept drifting to her.

      Elizabeth’s drawings had surprised him. He had not known of her artistic abilities, and he suspected Jeremiah hadn’t, either, for his brother had never spoken of them even though he’d talked about her incessantly. Her work was as good as, if not better than, much of what David had seen in the papers. Many sketch artists could capture action, but she could convey the emotion. Love, laughter, pain, honor, he’d seen it all in the faces of her family members and the wounded soldiers she had drawn.

       If Peter wants the series on the slave vote to be personal, Elizabeth could certainly do that. Her talents could help shape this state for the better.

      But David couldn’t help but wonder if it was really the people of Baltimore he wished to benefit or himself. He reminded himself that there was no reason to worry about that now. She had, after all, declined his invitation, and he could tell by the sorrow in her eyes she didn’t have plans to change her mind anytime soon.

      He descended the ladder and went to the lean-to, only to discover there were no tiles on hand. David did manage to find some oilskin cloth, so he covered the damaged portion of the roof. He was just about to put the ladder away when the front door opened. Elizabeth stepped out to the porch. In her hands was the promised glass of lemonade.

      “How’s the roof?” she asked.

      He told her. She paled when he said he would have to purchase the tiles.

      “David, we—”

      She stopped, but he knew exactly what she had been about to say. We can’t afford it.

      He wanted to reassure her. “Elizabeth, you needn’t worry. I’ll see to the repairs.”

      Her eyes widened in momentary relief, but the look quickly faded. “That’s very generous of you, but I can’t ask you to do so.”

      “You didn’t ask. I offered. I know the financial situation at present is difficult.”

      She blushed.

      “Elizabeth, there is no shame in your family’s position. You aren’t the first woman to run low on funds because the war has lasted longer than anyone expected. Sadly, you probably won’t be the last.”

      “I’ll come up with the money to buy the tiles myself. It will just take me a little time.”

      “You haven’t got time. All it will take is one thunderstorm, and you’ll be facing serious water damage.”

      “I know.” She bit her lower lip. “I just keep thinking George will be home soon. And when he returns to work...”

      Even if the war ended tomorrow and her brother came back abled-bodied and clearheaded, David doubted a Confederate veteran would be able to simply slip back into his previous life. Too many employers feared the mark of disloyalty СКАЧАТЬ