The Carpenter's Daughter by Jennifer Rodewald Page A

him. “Why are you here already? No walls, no roof. No need for a roofer yet.”
    His grin poked a dimple on the right side of his mouth. “I’m part of your crew today. You can be a part of mine in a couple of days.”
    The man wore audacious like a pro ballplayer would wear a jersey.
    “What makes you think I’ll stay that long?”
    Chuckling, he put a hand to my elbow and started forward. “That’s a negotiation we’ll work on later. Come on. Meet your workers.”
    Panic seized my whole body, and I froze. Jesse stopped a step ahead of me, and his smile faltered. “What’s wrong?”
    “ My crew?” My heart banged hard against my ribs. I led my dad’s framing crew all the time—but I knew them, and they knew me. Remembering what happened with the guy up in Valentine made my chest hurt—not to mention adding pain to my already yucky stomach.
    “Yes. You’re the master framer. They’ll be working under you.”
    “Where’s Mack?”
    Jesse shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “In town—at the church they’ve appointed as headquarters. He had some stuff to iron out with the plumber.”
    He looked at me. I tried to smile. It came across more like paralyzed fear, I was sure.
    “Well, don’t worry.” He chuckled. “I’m compliant. Haven’t you ever seen The Princess Bride ?”
    “Uh, yeah?” I cocked an eyebrow, failing to see what the late-eighties flick had to do with framing.
    “Consider yourself the newly appointed Dread Pirate Roberts.” He nudged me forward. “I’ll be your first mate. Everyone else will follow.”
    Peachy. Now I was a pirate. That helped answer the whole who the heck am I question.
    Jesse introduced me around. I’d never remember their names. Just impressions.
    Middle-aged lady with a pink Under Armour cap. Looked like a runner. Worked like maybe she’d done something like this before. Younger guy, a little on the heavy side, but still capable. Talked like he knew what he was doing. Worked like he didn’t. Older man with silver-speckled hair. Quiet, but did exactly what needed to be done. Friendly gentleman, late forties. Reminded me of Jesse, except he told more jokes than he sank nails. That was okay—he was entertaining.
    And Laine. I’d remember her name. Distinctly. Younger than me, but not much, I’d guess. Blond hair swept back into a glossy ponytail, bright-blue eyes, and pink lips that smiled the whole day through. Dressed in a tank top and cutoff shorts, she still looked like she belonged on one of those fashion posters I’d seen at the mall.
    Her face had been perfectly made up at the beginning of the day, eyes highlighted with a brown pencil, smudged a little—exactly the way Darcy and her beauty-shop buddy had shown me. Contrary to my expectation, by the end of the day she didn’t look any worse for the work. No smeared makeup. No sagging disposition. Speckled with a small amount of sweat, her flushed face only added to her youthful appeal.
    Pretty sure Jesse noticed.
    “Jesse, it’s so good to have you back again.” Middle-aged Under Armour–cap lady approached him near the end of the workday.
    I kept myself busy double-checking the level and plumb lines of all of the walls. Corners needed to be tight, and straight lines were an absolute must. Skip it, and the homeowners would hate us when the drywall started separating at the junctures. It was important. Plus, I didn’t have to figure out this unsettled, anxious feeling I had going in my gut if I didn’t watch him interact with the other women on the job.
    “Good to be back, as always.”
    Tune him out. It was a private conversation anyway.
    “Where are you staying?”
    “Over at the Super 8.”
    Me too. What were the odds? Well, fifty-fifty, since there was only one other hotel in town.
    “Oh no.” She touched his shoulder.
    I only knew because I caught a glimpse of them when I moved on to check a different section of wall. Not because I was watching.
    “I can’t let you live there for a