Page 23 of The Last Viking

“Who was the fool who left this wood to dry out? Every good shipbuilder knows green timber is best for the planking. Once seasoned, it becomes too brittle to work.” He stood and glared at her as if she was to blame for the gross incompetence.

“There was no fool, you fool. My grandfather died suddenly last October—” Her voice broke and she couldn’t immediately go on. Finally, she cleared her throat and continued. “There was no one to take over the project.”

He tried to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she shifted away. She didn’t want his pity. “All of Gramps’s notes were available, and his assistant, Mike Johnson, was here, but no one really had the expertise to supervise such a project. Ever since I got here in January, we’ve been trying to hire someone to take over my grandfather’s position, and this project.”

Rolf nodded. “’Tis a question of honor.”

Meredith’s eyes shot up at his perception. How did he know she’d felt that way? That leaving her grandfather’s dream incomplete was somehow a disgrace to his memory? That finishing the longship would be a gesture of love and respect? Fighting back the emotion that choked her, she asked, “Can we do anything to salvage the wood?”

“Some of it,” he said, “and the discarded pieces will not be wasted. They can be put to good use as rudders, blocks, clamps, and skids.”

“Look at those peculiar tree limbs,” she called out to him. Rolf was already on the other side, examining each of the trees and cut planks. Among all the straight trees and precisely cut wedge planks, there were some curved limbs, even forked jointures of tree limbs.

Rolf shook his head sadly. “Those are useless now. The curved timbers are needed for the ribs and knees of the ship, and the forks for tholes and keelsons, but they should have been stored underwater to keep the wood flexible.”

As they moved over to the longship, Rolf gave it equally professional scrutiny. Meredith was more and more impressed with his knowledge. Wherever he’d come from, the guy was the answer to her prayers…well, her prayers for a shipbuilder, anyway.

Yeah, right. Like I’m not noticing all that suntanned skin and the muscles bulging under those upper-arm bracelets. Like my heart doesn’t skip a beat when he smiles. Like I’m not gawking when he bends over and stretches the material of those black sweatpants.

“What did you say?” Rolf said, straightening.

“Nothing,” she said, hating the blush that heated her face. The little grin that twitched at his lips told her he knew exactly where she’d been staring. “Let’s go back inside and start on your English lesson. You’ll never be able to read Gramps’s notes or understand his blueprints unless you have a rudimentary ability to read English.”

“I told you, I can read English,” he protested.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah! We’re back to the Viking prince stuff again,” she grumbled as they walked back toward the house.

He swatted her on the behind and cautioned, “Best you curb your tongue, wench, or I will show you what else a Viking can do, besides build longships.”

She should have chastised him for taking such a liberty, but she saw the teasing glimmer in his eyes. He was an arrogant beast, really he was. Too bad he was so attractive, as well. “Not all women are impressed with virile Viking clods, you know.”

“Truly?” he asked with amazement. “Whene’er my brothers and I go a-viking, women always fall over themselves to get to us, no matter the country. Especially Saxon women. They claim we are much taller and more comely than their ugly English men.”

“Hah! The way I hear it, Vikings washed more often than Saxon men. That’s what attracted the women. You didn’t smell quite so bad.”

He grinned. “Well, there is that, too.”

Four hours later, Meredith sat back in her chair in the library and stretched.

They’d made incredible progress. Rolf was rapidly learning how to read English, thanks in part to her grandfather’s numerous English-Old Norse texts and software programs. Rolf must be very intelligent to grasp all the principles so easily, but Meredith sensed that it was more than that. She almost believed his assertion that the talisman had magic powers. How else could he already have mastered the alphabet and rudimentary grammar? How else could he have managed to work the computer keyboard as he studied data?

His childlike enthusiasm for learning touched her. He didn’t balk at any of her instructions, even the boring, rote drawing of the alphabet.

“Why are you so eager to learn all of this so quickly?” she asked finally. “And don’t give me that nonsense about being dedicated to the god of wisdom.”

He glanced up with surprise from the third-grade reader he’d been studying—one that had been hers as a child. “So I can return home,” he answered simply and went back to his book.

Meredith’s heart stopped at his declaration, and she wondered how she could feel such desolation at the idea of losing a man she’d just met. He meant nothing to her, other than as a shipbuilder. He was a means to an end. Once that project was completed, it would be good riddance, right?

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

She didn’t know how it had happened—perhaps she was pathetically lonely—but Rolf had burrowed his way into her life and possibly even her heart in one short day. And his absence would leave a gaping hole; she just knew it would. She would have to protect herself.

“That’s enough for today,” she declared, reaching over his shoulder and shutting the book. “How about some lunch?”

He nodded his agreement and stood, stretching his arms wide and arching his back to remove the kinks from sitting for so long. She refused to look, already embarking on a plan of self-protection.

A short time later, Rolf leaned against the kitchen counter while she opened a can of tomato soup and made grilled cheese sandwiches. She really needed to grocery shop this afternoon.