That McCloud Woman Read Free Page B

wondering what he was doing.
    He
folded the knife and stuck it back in his pocket. "Wood," he
explained, plucking with a fingernail at the paper he'd loosened. Then added,
"Two-inch tongue and groove." He gave his head a regretful shake.
"Somebody papered over solid wood walls."
    Intrigued,
Alayna caught up their drinks and crossed to him. She offered him a glass,
which Jack took, then she leaned to peer closely at the spot of wood he'd
uncovered. "Is that bad?" she asked in concern.
    The
heat and intimacy of her body pressed against his had Jack sidestepping away
from her, giving her room and himself the opportunity to breathe a little
easier. "Not necessarily bad. Just stupid."
    Alayna
choked back a laugh upon hearing her ancestors referred to as
"stupid." The McClouds were a proud bunch, and probably wouldn't
think kindly of a man who questioned their intelligence. She took a sip of her
lemonade. "So what do you propose we do about it?"
    Jack
turned his head to look at her, surprised by the "we" in her
statement, but decided to take it as a sign that she trusted his opinion.
"It's your house. But if it was left up to me, I'd rip that paper off and
let the wood breathe. It'd be a pretty sight, I can promise you that."
    Alayna
looked at him, surprised by the level of emotion in his voice, his passion for
something as innocuous as a wall of wood. "Will it cost much?"
    He
lifted a shoulder, which seemed to be his favored means of communicating with
her. "Elbow grease, mainly. 'Course you never know what problems you might
find when you start uncovering things."
    Alayna
turned to look at the wall again, trying to imagine it without the faded paper,
and wondering, too, what other things she would discover that Jack felt
passionate about … and she would find out. There was still life
inside him. The emotion he'd just displayed over her breakfast room wall proved
that. "Okay," she said, with a decisive nod at the faded paper, then
turned to smile at him. "Let's do it."
    "Now?"
    Alayna
laughed at the shocked look on his face, her blue eyes twinkling merrily.
"No, not now, as in right this minute." She turned to look at the
wall again, her smile softening. "But I think you're right. That wood
needs to breathe."
    That
she would accept his advice so readily both surprised and relieved Jack. He
knew from experience that homeowners could be a pain in the butt to work with,
having ideas and opinions on how repairs should be made that could drive a
remodeler straight up the wall. He just hoped that when he stripped off that
paper, he didn't discover that it had been hung to cover up some problem, like
termite or water damage. While he was thinking this, he felt a featherlight
touch on his arm, then it was gone and Alayna was turning away, saying,
"Come on. I'll show you the rest of the house."
    Jack
followed her, unconsciously rubbing a hand at the tingling sensation she'd left
on his arm.
    "The
fireplace in the living room was sealed off years ago," she explained as
she led the way to the front of the house. "I'd planned to open it and
make it functional again." She paused in the archway that opened to the
large living room. Jack stopped beside her, stealing a glance her way, and saw
that she had her arms hugged up beneath her breasts in an oddly protective way.
"But I'm afraid," she said with a disappointed sigh, "that this
is one of the luxuries I'm going to have to forego in order to stay on
budget."
    Jack
turned his head to follow her gaze … and the craftsman in him all but drooled
at the sight before him. A huge limestone fireplace dominated the opposite
wall, its white stone front stretching a good twelve feet from floor to
ceiling. Embedded in the stone above the fireplace's dark opening was a
hand-hewn cedar mantel, polished with care and age. Jack's heart swelled at the
amount of time and skill that had gone into the overall design, but it quickly
took a nosedive when his gaze hit on the gas space heater wedged in the