The Shadow Girl by Jennifer Archer Page B

down on the coffee table a little too hard. “I’m really not up to it, Lily. Okay?”
    It’s clear that the subject is closed, as far as she’s concerned. Reluctantly, I return to my studies.
    Soon the sounds of Ty working lift my mood—and kill my concentration. Each time he walks across the roof, I look up at the ceiling. Whenever he climbs down and passes by a window, I hear the tune he’s whistling, then catch myself humming along and tapping my toe to the beat. It’s not the noise that distracts me from studying as much as his presence. I can’t stop wondering if he’s thinking about me, too.
    I’d go out and keep him company if I thought Mom wouldn’t interfere. I don’t want to give her an excuse to fire him, and paying attention to me instead of his work would make it easy for her. Yesterday, she warned me about watching out for “older guys,” as if Ty were in his twenties instead of only a year ahead of me. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s already had a semester of college that bothers her. She’s always been overprotective to the extreme. She and Dad both, really.
    At noon, Mom and I are making ham sandwiches at the kitchen counter when Ty’s hammering stops. A second later, I hear his car door slam. “We should offer Ty a sandwich. He’s going to get sick of eating lunch at the Blue Spirit Inn every day,” I say, referring to the only restaurant nearby.
    “He’s just working here for another few days, Lily. I doubt he’ll get tired of the Blue Spirit Inn,” says Mom wearily. “Besides, he could bring his lunch. Maybe he did.”
    “I’ll go check.” Deserting the tomato I was slicing—and Mom’s scowl—I hurry toward the door.
    Ty is leaning against his car eating a strip of beef jerky. A folded red bandanna is tied around his forehead, to keep his hair out of his eyes while he works. “Hey,” I call to him from the porch.
    “There you are,” he says, a wide smile spreading across his face. “I thought maybe you were allergic to sunshine or something.”
    “Schoolwork,” I say. “Greek philosophy. Plato is kicking my butt.”
    Ty tilts his head to one side. “‘He is unworthy of the name of man who is ignorant of the fact that the diagonal of a square is incommensurable with its side.’”
    “Impressive. Maybe I should hire you as a tutor.” I’m only half teasing when I add, “What do you charge?”
    “I’d do it for free,” he says.
    I fall into his gaze and wish I could stay there forever, lost in all that soft, dark heat. Blushing, I open the screen door wider and glance down at the strip of beef jerky in his hand. “That’s not much of a lunch.”
    “Don’t knock it till you try it. It’s not bad, but you might lose a tooth.”
    Grinning, I ask, “Do you like ham and Swiss? Mom and I are making sandwiches. We can eat on the deck since it’s warm out.”
    Ty pushes away from the car. “Sure.”
    Five minutes later, I bring a tray filled with sandwiches, potato chips, and soft drinks out to the deck where Mom and Ty are already sitting at the patio table.
    Ty stands abruptly to help, his knuckles bumping against mine as he reaches for the tray. We smile at each other as he sits in the chair across the table from Mom and I sit beside her.
    “Looks like you’re making good progress on the roof, Ty,” Mom says.
    “I should finish the middle of next week at the latest.”
    “That long?” She frowns. “Seems like you’re moving faster than that.”
    “He’s just one person, Mom,” I say in his defense.
    “I want to do a good job for you, Mrs. Winston,” says Ty, adding, “You’re short on a few supplies. If it’s okay, I’ll quit early this afternoon and go to the hardware store.”
    Mom takes a soft drink off the tray. “Whatever you need to do. The weather is supposed to stay dry for a while, so I guess there’s no real hurry. Adam had an account there. Just have them call if they need an okay.”
    He nods at Mom, saying, “This looks