Make-Believe Beau. Keli Gwyn

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ project.” He gestured with one hand. “After you.”

      She covered the distance quickly and faced the back wall, studying the twenty-foot-long drawing of the canal stretched across its surface and looking...enraptured. That was the only word he could think of to describe the wide-eyed wonder on her lovely face. She turned toward him, her eyes alight. “This is magnificent! The Weber Creek Ditch I worked on was just six miles long, but if I read things correctly, the El Dorado Canal is going to be over thirty, with a good four miles of wooden flumes.”

      “That’s right.”

      Her forehead furrowed. “Why are you smiling?”

      Was he? He schooled his features. “You really do enjoy the work, don’t you?”

      “Very much.” She straightened to her full height, bringing the top of her head level with his shoulder. With her standing so close, he could imagine taking her in his arms, gazing into her sparkling green eyes and lowering his face until his lips brushed—

      What was he doing harboring such thoughts? He had no intention of courting anyone, especially a potential colleague. Women couldn’t be trusted. His mother, a successful madam who’d abandoned him at the age of seven, and Ma Hagerty, who’d taken him in and promptly broken her promise to treat him like her own son, had taught him that.

      Jessie assumed a businesslike tone. “If I’m to overcome Mr. Corbin’s objections, I should get to work on that drawing. What do you have in mind?”

      While he admired Miss Jessica Sinclair, professional draftswoman, with her forthright manner, he’d enjoyed a glimpse of the gleeful girl inside her. “I’d like you to do a preliminary drawing of the next section.”

      Moments later he stood at his drafting board with Jessie at his side studying the surveyor’s notes he’d handed her. “I understand what I’m to do, so I can get started.”

      “Very well.” He opened the cabinet beneath his board, where he kept his rulers, compasses, drawing pens and such. “Help yourself to whatever you need.”

      She blinked several times, once again drawing his attention to her long lashes and those gorgeous green eyes. He had to force himself not to stare.

      “That’s an impressive collection. While I appreciate your offer, I have my own tools, which I left with the clerk in the lobby. I’ll get them.” She took two steps and stopped. “I’d like to wash my hands before I begin so I don’t soil my drawing. Where might I do that?”

      “There’s a small closet with a washstand opposite Corby’s office. You’ll find plenty of pegs for hats and coats. Feel free to claim one of the empty shelves for your lunch pail, drawing case and anything else you brought.”

      “Very good. I’ll be back shortly.”

      No sooner had Jessie left the room than two of Flynt’s draftsmen descended on him. The ever-exuberant Trace reached him first. “Is she going to be working with us?”

      “Could be. We’ll know soon enough.”

      “Whoo whee! Won’t that be fun?”

      “No!” Kurt, who sat at the board nearest Flynt’s, joined them. Could the young man’s scowl be any more pronounced? “We don’t need a dame here.”

      Flynt bit back a rebuke. “Miss Sinclair is a lady, and we’ll treat her accordingly.”

      “Fine,” Kurt muttered. “If you want to hire a woman, that’s your business, but I don’t have to like it.”

      “No, but I don’t want to hear any disparaging terms. Now, how about returning to your stations, gentlemen? You have work to do.”

      Kurt trudged back to his board. His outburst was understandable. He’d worked hard to establish himself as the lead draftsman. To have his position threatened by another man would be tough, but having the threat come from a woman could be even harder to take.

      Trace leaned close and lowered his voice. “You don’t have to worry on my account, sir. I think she’s nice.”

      Jessie returned a short time later looking rather, well, cute. She’d removed her hat, revealing her full head of striking auburn hair, and donned a black apron and matching sleeve protectors. Since she couldn’t work in rolled-up shirtsleeves as he and his men did, her precautions made sense. Through the years he’d ended up with a number of India-ink stains on his clothing.

      She wound his stool up to the proper height for her and hopped onto the padded leather seat. The rungs weren’t in the right place for her to rest her feet comfortably, and yet she didn’t complain. She just got to work performing her initial calculations on a sheet of scrap paper.

      He plunked a spare stool beside his board, close enough to see everything, but far enough away so as not to crowd her. Since she was using his drafting table, he couldn’t work on a drawing. Not that he minded this opportunity to study her. She was a sight to behold.

      She reached for a ruler in her tool case on the small side table and paused. “Are you going to sit there the entire time?”

      “I’d planned to. Why? Does that bother you?”

      “A little, perhaps, but I can deal with it.”

      He appreciated her honesty. “I can tell a lot from looking at a drawing, but I can’t evaluate the effectiveness of a person’s methods unless I watch him or her work.” Based on what he’d seen so far, Jessie was accurate, thorough and exacting, the very traits he sought.

      “Well, then, I’ll just have to ignore you as best I can.” She gave him a saucy smile.

      He grabbed a sketch pad and pencil and doodled, a longtime habit of his. Although plenty of work awaited him, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate, not with Jessie close by smelling like— What was it exactly? He inhaled deeply. Lilac. No wonder thoughts of spring had come to mind when he’d first met her.

      Her penciled drawing took shape far more quickly than he would have expected. He forced himself to observe her from his stool. Although he was tempted to take a closer look, there would be time for that later.

      She had the most appealing way of humming to herself as she worked, so softly that he would be surprised if any of the other men could hear. Her repertoire consisted entirely of hymns. She, too, must have put her faith in Christ.

      The morning passed more quickly than Flynt had expected. In addition to watching Jessie work, he’d fielded an unprecedented number of questions from the draftsmen, even Kurt, who wouldn’t ask for help unless absolutely necessary. The fellows had also worn a groove in the floorboards with their frequent trips to the privy out back. Each time one of the men passed by, he paused to peer at Jessie’s drawing or make an idle comment. She’d dealt with each interruption graciously and gotten back to work as quickly as possible.

      George left his station beside Kurt’s and ambled over. “It’s noon, Miss Sinclair. I wondered if you’d like to eat your lunch in the shade of that large oak out front. I’d be happy to keep you company.”

      The invitation didn’t surprise Flynt. George fancied himself a ladies’ man.

      Jessie flashed George a friendly smile. “What a wonderful idea. The others СКАЧАТЬ