inquisitive, aren’t you, Mr. Tucker?”
Jeffery wanted to chuckle at her comical expression, but he schooled his features into neutral lines. “Jeff-er-y. It’s not terribly hard to pronounce.” Gaining this young woman’s trust and friendship might be harder than he’d expected. He flashed a careful smile. “And is being inquisitive a bad thing?”
“You rescued me from a rather thorny circumstance, so I don’t want to offend your sensibilities, but, well …” She withdrew the folded newspaper from under her arm and tapped it against the palm of her hand. “Sometimes you do ask a mite too many questions for my peace of mind.”
He quirked a brow, intrigued by her phrasing. So he’d disturbed her peace of mind, had he? Something to think about when he had more leisure. Probably not the best idea to pursue the subject now, if her frown were any indication of her feelings. “I apologize if I have caused you distress. I’ll do my best not to plague you with an overabundance of questions from this time forward. But …”
Now it was her turn to smile. “Yes, Mr. Tucker?”
“Yes, Jeffery. Yes, Jeffery.” He waved his hand in a circle. “There, now you try.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t reply.
He grinned. “You are aware I am a writer, and as such, we see questions and possibilities in almost everything we come in contact with. Not to mention, my background in the news industry causes me to look for a story in everything around me. It is difficult not to ask questions, if you see what I mean. Besides, I admit to a decided interest in getting to know you, and I can think of no better way to accomplish that than asking questions. But we have strayed from the issue at hand.”
A light laugh escaped her mouth. “I’m afraid we have gone down another rabbit trail, Mr. Tucker, so you will need to remind me.”
He tipped his head at a slight angle.
Rosy color tinted her cheeks. “Ah, yes. The matter of the names.” She arched her brows and her eyes twinkled. “How clumsy of me to forget. All right. After all we’ve gone through these past minutes, it does seem we’re co-conspirators of a sort.”
“Wonderful.” A deep pleasure warmed Jeffery’s heart. He wasn’t sure why he worked so hard to gain this woman’s trust. Maybe because the task had been such a challenge. Whatever the case, it felt right now that it was settled. He extended his arm once more. “Would you care to take that walk you promised me earlier?”
A mischievous sparkle lit her eyes, and she opened her mouth to speak, then slowly closed it, giving a small shake of her head.
“What’s wrong? Have I done something?”
“Mr. Lansing is coming. I suppose we should have continued our walk and not lingered so close to the house.”
Jeffery turned. Isaac Lansing stood at the top of the stairs and glanced around, then lifted his hand and waved. The man was fully decked out in a suit of clothing that appeared to have come straight from one of the East Coast’s finest tailors. Jeffery groaned. “Do we have to wait?”
Lansing’s feet hit the walkway, and he started toward them. Good manners forbade running away at this point, although Jeffery was sorely tempted.
A shout split the air. Micah Jacobs stood on the roof, holding the paint can and waving his other arm to keep his balance on the steep pitch. He landed on his backside and dug in his boot heels to stop from sliding. He came to a halt feet from the edge of the roof, but the can of paint catapulted from his grip. It bounced once on the eave of the house and flipped into the air, curving in a wide arc. As though frozen in time, the can hung suspended for a moment, then spun in a circle and landed upside down, directly on Isaac Lansing’s hat.
Beth stared at the comical sight and stifled a giggle. It was quickly apparent Mr. Lansing had suffered no damage, other than to his clothing and pride. The paint can rested upside down, leaving only the hat brim in
Jeffery wanted to chuckle at her comical expression, but he schooled his features into neutral lines. “Jeff-er-y. It’s not terribly hard to pronounce.” Gaining this young woman’s trust and friendship might be harder than he’d expected. He flashed a careful smile. “And is being inquisitive a bad thing?”
“You rescued me from a rather thorny circumstance, so I don’t want to offend your sensibilities, but, well …” She withdrew the folded newspaper from under her arm and tapped it against the palm of her hand. “Sometimes you do ask a mite too many questions for my peace of mind.”
He quirked a brow, intrigued by her phrasing. So he’d disturbed her peace of mind, had he? Something to think about when he had more leisure. Probably not the best idea to pursue the subject now, if her frown were any indication of her feelings. “I apologize if I have caused you distress. I’ll do my best not to plague you with an overabundance of questions from this time forward. But …”
Now it was her turn to smile. “Yes, Mr. Tucker?”
“Yes, Jeffery. Yes, Jeffery.” He waved his hand in a circle. “There, now you try.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t reply.
He grinned. “You are aware I am a writer, and as such, we see questions and possibilities in almost everything we come in contact with. Not to mention, my background in the news industry causes me to look for a story in everything around me. It is difficult not to ask questions, if you see what I mean. Besides, I admit to a decided interest in getting to know you, and I can think of no better way to accomplish that than asking questions. But we have strayed from the issue at hand.”
A light laugh escaped her mouth. “I’m afraid we have gone down another rabbit trail, Mr. Tucker, so you will need to remind me.”
He tipped his head at a slight angle.
Rosy color tinted her cheeks. “Ah, yes. The matter of the names.” She arched her brows and her eyes twinkled. “How clumsy of me to forget. All right. After all we’ve gone through these past minutes, it does seem we’re co-conspirators of a sort.”
“Wonderful.” A deep pleasure warmed Jeffery’s heart. He wasn’t sure why he worked so hard to gain this woman’s trust. Maybe because the task had been such a challenge. Whatever the case, it felt right now that it was settled. He extended his arm once more. “Would you care to take that walk you promised me earlier?”
A mischievous sparkle lit her eyes, and she opened her mouth to speak, then slowly closed it, giving a small shake of her head.
“What’s wrong? Have I done something?”
“Mr. Lansing is coming. I suppose we should have continued our walk and not lingered so close to the house.”
Jeffery turned. Isaac Lansing stood at the top of the stairs and glanced around, then lifted his hand and waved. The man was fully decked out in a suit of clothing that appeared to have come straight from one of the East Coast’s finest tailors. Jeffery groaned. “Do we have to wait?”
Lansing’s feet hit the walkway, and he started toward them. Good manners forbade running away at this point, although Jeffery was sorely tempted.
A shout split the air. Micah Jacobs stood on the roof, holding the paint can and waving his other arm to keep his balance on the steep pitch. He landed on his backside and dug in his boot heels to stop from sliding. He came to a halt feet from the edge of the roof, but the can of paint catapulted from his grip. It bounced once on the eave of the house and flipped into the air, curving in a wide arc. As though frozen in time, the can hung suspended for a moment, then spun in a circle and landed upside down, directly on Isaac Lansing’s hat.
Beth stared at the comical sight and stifled a giggle. It was quickly apparent Mr. Lansing had suffered no damage, other than to his clothing and pride. The paint can rested upside down, leaving only the hat brim in
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