blinked several times, once again drawing his attention to her long lashes and those gorgeous green eyes. He had to force himself not to stare.
“That’s an impressive collection. While I appreciate your offer, I have my own tools, which I left with the clerk in the lobby. I’ll get them.” She took two steps and stopped. “I’d like to wash my hands before I begin so I don’t soil my drawing. Where might I do that?”
“There’s a small closet with a washstand opposite Corby’s office. You’ll find plenty of pegs for hats and coats. Feel free to claim one of the empty shelves for your lunch pail, drawing case and anything else you brought.”
“Very good. I’ll be back shortly.”
No sooner had Jessie left the room than two of Flynt’s draftsmen descended on him. The ever-exuberant Trace reached him first. “Is she going to be working with us?”
“Could be. We’ll know soon enough.”
“Whoo whee! Won’t that be fun?”
“No!” Kurt, who sat at the board nearest Flynt’s, joined them. Could the young man’s scowl be any more pronounced? “We don’t need a dame here.”
Flynt bit back a rebuke. “Miss Sinclair is a lady, and we’ll treat her accordingly.”
“Fine,” Kurt muttered. “If you want to hire a woman, that’s your business, but I don’t have to like it.”
“No, but I don’t want to hear any disparaging terms. Now, how about returning to your stations, gentlemen? You have work to do.”
Kurt trudged back to his board. His outburst was understandable. He’d worked hard to establish himself as the lead draftsman. To have his position threatened by another man would be tough, but having the threat come from a woman could be even harder to take.
Trace leaned close and lowered his voice. “You don’t have to worry on my account, sir. I think she’s nice.”
Jessie returned a short time later looking rather, well, cute. She’d removed her hat, revealing her full head of striking auburn hair, and donned a black apron and matching sleeve protectors. Since she couldn’t work in rolled-up shirtsleeves as he and his men did, her precautions made sense. Through the years he’d ended up with a number of India-ink stains on his clothing.
She wound his stool up to the proper height for her and hopped onto the padded leather seat. The rungs weren’t in the right place for her to rest her feet comfortably, and yet she didn’t complain. She just got to work performing her initial calculations on a sheet of scrap paper.
He plunked a spare stool beside his board, close enough to see everything, but far enough away so as not to crowd her. Since she was using his drafting table, he couldn’t work on a drawing. Not that he minded this opportunity to study her. She was a sight to behold.
She reached for a ruler in her tool case on the small side table and paused. “Are you going to sit there the entire time?”
“I’d planned to. Why? Does that bother you?”
“A little, perhaps, but I can deal with it.”
He appreciated her honesty. “I can tell a lot from looking at a drawing, but I can’t evaluate the effectiveness of a person’s methods unless I watch him or her work.” Based on what he’d seen so far, Jessie was accurate, thorough and exacting, the very traits he sought.
“Well, then, I’ll just have to ignore you as best I can.” She gave him a saucy smile.
He grabbed a sketch pad and pencil and doodled, a longtime habit of his. Although plenty of work awaited him, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate, not with Jessie close by smelling like— What was it exactly? He inhaled deeply. Lilac. No wonder thoughts of spring had come to mind when he’d first met her.
Her penciled drawing took shape far more quickly than he would have expected. He forced himself to observe her from his stool. Although he was tempted to take a closer look, there would be time for that later.
She had the most appealing way of humming to herself as she worked, so softly that he would be surprised if any of the other men could hear. Her repertoire consisted entirely of hymns. She, too, must have put her faith in Christ.
The morning passed more quickly than Flynt had expected. In addition to watching Jessie work, he’d fielded an unprecedented number of questions from the draftsmen, even Kurt, who wouldn’t ask for help unless absolutely necessary. The fellows had also worn a groove in the floorboards with their frequent trips to the privy out back. Each time one of the men passed by, he paused to peer at Jessie’s drawing or make an idle comment. She’d dealt with each interruption graciously and gotten back to work as quickly as possible.
George left his station beside Kurt’s and ambled over. “It’s noon, Miss Sinclair. I wondered if you’d like to eat your lunch in the shade of that large oak out front. I’d be happy to keep you company.”
The invitation didn’t surprise Flynt. George fancied himself a ladies’ man.
Jessie flashed George a friendly smile. “What a wonderful idea. The others could join us, too, enabling all of us to get acquainted.”
Flynt had to hand it to her. She’d deflected George’s advances with finesse.
The room cleared quickly. A jolt of excitement surged through Flynt. He could examine Jessie’s drawing at last. If he wasn’t mistaken, Corby would be forced to admit that she was the right person for the job.
She stepped back into the room, her lunch pail in hand. “Did you plan on eating with us?”
“Not today. I want to talk with Corby.” He did. After he’d reviewed her work.
“Very well.” She rubbed her lower back with her free hand.
He’d noticed her roll her shoulders a few times as she worked, too. “Are you all right?”
“Just a bit stiff, that’s all. I’ll see you later.” She left, her boot heels thudding on the wooden floor.
Alone at last. He stood before her drawing, scrutinizing every detail, checking every angle, verifying every calculation. His admiration grew. If her final inked copy was on par with her penciled version, Corby would have no choice but to accept her as a member of the team.
Flynt strode to Corby’s office and opened the door. A whiff of cigar smoke greeted him. “Do you have a minute?”
Corby beckoned Flynt inside. “Come to lobby for your candidate, have you?” He snuffed out his cigar.
“Her work is outstanding. You can see for yourself.” He held out a hand toward the Den. “I assigned her a drawing that would challenge even the most seasoned draftsman, and yet she tackled it without hesitation.”
“You want me to hire her, don’t you? Even though she’s already created a stir? I saw the trail of men heading her way. They were like ants drawn to a sugar bowl.”
Flynt plopped into one of the chairs in front of Corby’s desk. “They’ve been trooping by, yes, but the novelty will fade soon enough.” He certainly hoped that was the case. George was so infatuated it was a wonder he’d gotten any work done. Not that Flynt could blame him. Jessie was a distraction, albeit a pleasant one.
“And if it doesn’t? What then?”
“I’m sure it will. But if not, I’ll do whatever’s necessary to restore order.”
Corby’s bushy eyebrows formed a V. “You’re not smitten or anything, are you?”
“No, sir!” He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. “It’s just that she’s what I need. I mean her work is.”
“I see. So you’re asking me to set aside my concerns and offer her the job? Well, son, since you’ve assured me you’ll do whatever’s necessary to make