“Well?” Leland said.
She looked up and realized he was still watching her with those hard eyes that never expressed anything other than displeasure.
“What do you say? Will you work on trimming down your waist by the time I return?”
“I... yes. I’ll make it my top priority.”
“Good.” Leeland took another bite of his eggs and toast, ignoring the yolk from the egg that dribbled down the side of his chin.
She lowered her gaze to her untouched ham and folded her hands in her lap. Two days. That was all she had to endure of the horrid man beside her. Then she planned to never see him again in her life.
24
Sitka; the Next Day
Done at last. Yuri stepped back from the bookshelf and arched his back, stretching out his muscles as he surveyed his work. The final two bookshelves stood finished, filling up the last wall of the temporary library.
He didn’t want to think about how long he’d spent yesterday and today measuring, sawing, and hammering, all while hoping Rosalind might stop by the library. He’d even worked through lunch earlier, just to make sure she didn’t show up during the short time he would have been gone.
But she hadn’t stopped by, not even for a few minutes.
Yet someone from the Caldwell household had been here. The floor was filled with crates of books, and the inside folds on over half of them were stamped with Preston Caldwell’s name. Yuri had found them there when he’d walked into the library that morning. Did that mean Rosalind had stopped by after he left yesterday?
Clearly he’d missed her, and that rankled, because all he wanted to do was ask her why she’d turned those ledgers over to his family.
He stared at the front door, willing it to open and her to walk inside wearing both a smile and a dress that reminded him of spring.
Over the past week, Rosalind had swept the floors of the building and cleaned the windows and scrubbed the old woodstove in the corner. Plus, she’d shelved all of the donated books as soon as they arrived.
He’d assumed it wouldn’t be difficult to find her here this week, but clearly he’d been wrong.
He glanced at his pocket watch. A quarter past four. But he wasn’t ready to give up just yet on the possibility of Rosalind stopping by. Maybe he’d start shelving books. He wasn’t sure quite how Rosalind had the books organized, but surely he could figure it out.
He headed to the closest crate and bent to pick up the first book.
It was a biography of English abolitionist William Wilberforce. Did Rosalind have a section for biographies?
It took him only a few seconds of searching to find the biographies and set the book in its proper place. Then he bent to pick up the next one.
The door creaked open, and he snapped his head up. “Ros?—”
The name died on his lips when he saw Alexei step inside.
His brother raised his eyebrows. “Expecting someone else?”
“I was hoping for it, at least.” He nudged one of the crates with his foot. “Rosalind had these donations sent here, and I was expecting her to stop by and shelve them.”
Alexei ran his eyes around the room, then let out a low whistle. “The library committee was busy while I was gone.”
“Most of it was Rosalind, though Angus donated the lumber and helped build some of the shelves.”
“And you built the rest? You did a good job.” Alexei bent to pick up a book from the crate, then turned it over in his hands. “It’s hard to imagine Caldwell letting his daughter get involved with something like this, or letting any of his books go, really.”
“She said we could have the books her father didn’t use. I don’t think he’ll notice most of them are gone.”
“Still...” Alexei shelved the slim volume in the poetry section. “I take it you haven’t seen her since she dropped off the ledgers?”
“No. I’ve been watching for her.” He picked up another book and turned it over without really seeing the title. “I don’t like it.”
