by Louise Clark
Faith stared into his eyes. Their incredible blue was warm and he was smiling the sexy half-smile that made her want to melt right into him. “No, but Cody, you have no idea how difficult a task you’ve given yourself.”
He shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ll work through it.”
“Oh wow!” Liz said. She turned wide-eyed to her mother. “Cody is going to teach Andrew how to use a computer!”
They both laughed.
The next day Faith, Andrew and Cody gathered in the kitchen before they got started with the lessons. Faith had made coffee. She hauled three mugs from the cupboard and set them in a row. “Thank you for coming over today, Cody.”
As he leaned against the sink, he watched her pour coffee into the three thick, stoneware mugs. The formal note to her statement alarmed him. It seemed so impersonal, as if they’d gone backward, not forward, since the arrival of her Uncle Andrew. “Not a problem.”
“Well, it is,” Faith said. “Andrew is clueless about computers. I tried to give him some basics this morning, so you’re not starting from scratch, but they’re…” Holding the coffee beaker high, she paused, searching for a word. “They’re alien to him.” She topped up the last of the mugs and set the beaker back on the hotplate.
The three mugs all had different decorations on them. One was the official NIT giveaway, with the company name and logo. He’d avoid that one. Another was adorned with some kind of flowers he thought might be violets. He figured that one would probably be Faith’s choice. The third had an image of the Statue of Liberty and the words, ‘America’s Symbol of Freedom’ painted on it. Cody figured that would be his.
“You make me sound incompetent, Faith,” Andrew said. He’d been sitting at the table when Cody arrived. Now he stood up in a restless way and came over to collect a cup. He moved each so he could examine the decoration carefully. As he twisted the Statue of Liberty mug a look of horror washed over Faith’s features. She snapped up the cup, putting her hand over the decoration, and sipped.
Cody reached for the NIT mug, leaving the flowers for Andrew.
Faith said, “You’re not incompetent, Andrew. I didn’t mean that. But you have no experience with computers, no frame of reference. We’re expecting you to learn in one day everything we’ve been taught over years.”
Andrew turned his mug, viewing it from all sides, before he picked it up. Then he lifted it high, looked at the bottom. He put the mug back on the counter. “No saucer?”
“No,” Faith said shortly. “I save the good china cups and saucers for dinner guests and people who drop by for a short visit. When you’re staying a week, you get the twenty-first century everyday stuff.”
“I see,” said Andrew. “Is there cream?”
Faith handed him the waxed carton. Andrew took it with a bemused expression on his face. Like the mug, he turned it this way and that, inspecting it carefully.
Trying to figure out how to create the spout to pour out the cream.
As soon as that thought flickered in his mind, Cody dismissed it. Everyone knew how to open the pour spout on a waxed milk or cream carton. Everyone. Even Uncle Andrew.
Faith took the carton from him and, with an impatient look, flipped open the spout. She handed it back to Andrew, whose expression indicated fascinated delight.
Maybe not. Andrew wasn’t the only one who was fascinated.
Andrew carefully poured cream into his mug, added sugar from the sugar bowl on the counter and stirred. Then he raised the mug with a little flourish and sipped.
Andrew had cleaned himself up and looked almost normal, Cody thought as he leaned against the sink, drinking his coffee and pondering the strangeness that was Uncle Andrew. He was still wearing his long hair tied back into a tail with a black velvet ribbon. In Cody’s opinion the style was eccentric, but as the odd things that surrounded Andrew went, it was pretty tame. Particularly since Andrew was now dressed much as Cody was, in a t-shirt and jeans.
Both the t-shirt and the jeans looked new. The jeans were faded, but the fabric was still crisp, so they were probably the pre-washed type. The shirt was black, with the word ‘Boston’ and a bright green shamrock on the front. The shirts were available all over town and were sold to tourists at a variety of prices, none of them very expensive. Cody wondered if Andrew had been involved in the selection of clothes, or if it was one of the Hamilton ladies—Faith, her sister Liz, or perhaps her mother—who had done the shopping. He hoped it was Liz or Chloe. He didn’t like the idea of Faith shopping for another man, even if he was a relative.
The stray thought rocked him back on his heels and was definitely one he was going to have to take out and examine in some depth, but not now. He looked over at Faith, focusing on her. She looked great today. She’d pulled her long blond hair into a ponytail that hung past her shoulders and swished back and forth as she moved. Her top had a boat neck that exposed the graceful line of shoulder, collarbone and neck. The fabric was a green that set off her eyes and seemed to make her skin glow. It also hugged her body, emphasizing the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
She looked up, caught him watching her, and smiled. Cody’s heart did a little flip, then began to jump around as if it was doing a triumphant dance. He told himself to calm down, then couldn’t breathe when she went over to the fridge to put away the carton of cream.
To get to the fridge she had to pass through a puddle of light from the window above the sink. Since he was leaning against the sink, the light was behind him and he had a great view of the way it streamed through the cotton fabric of her skirt, making the material translucent. For an instant, while she was bathed in the light, he could see the long length of her legs. Oh, yeah! His heart rate kicked into overdrive.
She’d dressed for him today, he was absolutely certain of it. No matter how difficult his self-appointed task of teaching Andrew the basics of the computer was, he could manage, because Faith was showing him in this simple, practical way that she wanted to please him.
They took their coffee into a small room that opened off the wide front hall. Located close to the kitchen, but behind the living room, the room was clearly Faith’s all-purpose activity room. Besides her computer and the desk it sat on, there was a sewing machine on a small table, a larger table that was evidently a work surface, bookcases, a sofa, and a stereo. Unlike her organized, not-a-thing-out-of-place kitchen, this room was cluttered and it welcomed Cody as he followed Faith and Andrew inside.
“Okay, Andrew, remember to keep your coffee away from the keyboard,” Faith said, nodding her approval as Andrew followed instructions and carefully placed his mug to one side of the desk, well out of accident range. “Now, turn on the computer and log in.”
Cody stood behind and to one side of Andrew so he could watch the man’s face as he went through the process. That way he could judge how comfortable Andrew felt in dealing with the basics. The familiar whir of the hard drive activating soothed Cody, drawing him into the task at hand. The start up screen flashed. He noted with approval that Faith had put proper security protocols in place to keep her files safe.
The log-on dialogue box opened. She’d also set up a special log-on for Andrew. Cody watched with amazement as Andrew hunted for the letter ‘a’.
“No,” Faith said. “It has to be a capital. You make it that way by pressing ‘shift’ at the same time as you press the ‘a’ key.”
Cody looked over Andrew’s head at Faith. “He can’t type?”
Her expression guilty, Faith shook her head.
This threw an unexpected wrinkle into Cody’s plans. By the time they were Andrew’s age everybody knew how to type these days. Well, evidently not everyone. “Where did you go to school, Andrew?”
Andrew had mastered the capital ‘A’ and found the rest of the letters of his name. He tabbed to the password field and pecked out the numbers one-seven-seven-two. The screen flashed into life.
The year 1772? Nah, couldn’t be.
“I did not go to a scho
ol,” Andrew said, a satisfied expression on his face as a beach scene with an aquamarine sea settled on the screen. “I had a tutor who taught me my letters and numbers.” He glanced at Faith. “Do you want me to open some programs?”
“Sure,” she said. “It’ll be good practice for you.”
Andrew nodded and set to work. One after another the standard office software came to life. Andrew looked pleased with himself. “I was also taught to draw and paint with watercolors, and to play the piano forte…”
Faith said sharply, “Let’s focus on the task at hand, okay Andrew?”
Interesting and double interesting. Whatever was going on with Uncle Andrew had Faith worried. Cody grabbed the straight-backed chair tucked against the table that held the sewing machine and brought it over to the computer desk. Setting it beside Andrew’s chair, he turned it backward, then straddled it so he could prop his crossed arms on top of the back.
If Faith was worried about Andrew saying something inappropriate to him today, she must be on tenterhooks about what would happen when she took Andrew to NIT. He was going to spend the rest of the day doing his best to ensure Andrew was as ready as he could make him for his entry into the computer age.
At eleven-fifteen that night, Faith called a halt. She was weary and Andrew was glassy-eyed, but struggling manfully to keep up with Cody who appeared ready to keep on going for hours yet. His stamina was amazing, but then she knew that when he was in the middle of a project he often worked through the night, so she wasn’t surprised.
Andrew had managed to hold his own during Cody’s intense afternoon training course. When they broke for the roast beef dinner Faith had prepared, he’d talked in an animated way about computers and what he’d learned. He’d even agreed enthusiastically to Cody’s suggestion that they return to the task after dinner. His energy had lasted until ten o’clock when he started to flag. Faith wasn’t surprised. In the eighteenth century, when houses were lit by oil lamps or candlelight, people normally went to bed after the sun set and woke when the sun came back up. By ten Andrew was already up past his bedtime.
Faith left Andrew logging off the computer as she accompanied Cody to the door. With a quick look backward to make sure Andrew was still in her all-purpose room, she followed Cody out onto the front porch. She closed the door firmly behind her, then looked up. That sexy little half-smile curled the edges of Cody’s mouth. Her insides quivered in a pleasurable way. She smiled and said softly, “Thank you.”
That surprised a laugh out of him. “I now have a much better appreciation of why your sister and mom were so amused by my offer to teach Andrew about computers.”
Faith nodded. “Cody, will he…I mean, will Ava be able to figure out how little he really knows?”
“If she sees him typing, she will.” Faith bit her lip and he added hastily, “He’s not totally hopeless.” He grinned. “Those piano forte lessons obviously taught him manual dexterity, but the most used letters in the alphabet are on the left side of the keyboard, so it’s hard for a beginner to pick up speed. Make him keep practicing and he should be okay.”
Was there a question in his voice under the amusement over the ‘piano forte’? Probably. It was risky to let Cody continue sorting through the bits of information that were accumulating around Andrew, because her distant ancestor was a puzzle and Cody was good at putting the pieces together to solve puzzles. But she wasn’t totally sure yet that Cody wouldn’t be frightened off if she told him that Andrew was visiting from the year 1772. “All of this must seem very strange to you.”
He stroked his fingertip along her jawline to her chin, which he tipped up so she was staring into his eyes. “You’re right, it does. But I like Andrew. I think he’s a decent guy. Except—”
“Except?” Faith searched his face for clues. There were none.
She felt his shrug as well as saw it. “He’s hiding something.”
She closed her eyes for a brief moment, her thoughts in turmoil.
“Hey,” Cody said, running his thumb across her lips. “Come back to me.”
She opened her eyes, even though she was afraid of what he’d say next.
“I suppose he’s got Mary Elizabeth pregnant.”
If Cody hadn’t been holding her chin with his fingertips, Faith knew she would have been standing there staring at him, her jaw hanging open. “Ummm, ahhhh…”
“It’s okay.” He lowered his head to brush a brief, teasing kiss over her lips. “He should go home and handle it, though. It’s not fair to Mary Elizabeth and he’s going to have to deal with her father when they’re married. He may as well start now.”
Faith breathed a mental sigh of relief. She could manage this. “I totally agree, but try convincing Andrew.”
Cody smiled that sexy half-smile again. “We’ve got a week to work on him. He’ll come round.”
This time when he kissed her, Faith molded her body to his, as seduced by Cody’s linking of himself to her family as by the taste and touch of him.
Do I want you, Cody Simpson, she thought? Oh yeah. In more ways than one.
Chapter 17
Andrew was up with the sun. The sound of his shower dragged Faith out of a deep sleep. She yawned and focused blearily on her bedside clock. Another hour before her alarm was due to go off. She groaned. Snuggling deeper under the covers she prepared to go back to sleep.
The shower stopped. The old house eased into its normal warm quiet.
Andrew began to sing. He had quite a good voice, a rich baritone, well-trained, with excellent projection. Faith listened lazily, half-asleep, half-awake. Part of her figured she wasn’t going to get back to sleep, so she ought to get up now. The other part was enjoying doing nothing except sing along to the song Andrew was belting out as he did whatever he was doing in the bathroom. She knew the words and the melody, of course, because the song was one of her favorites—a rock song originally recorded in the eighties, then re-recorded recently as part of a movie soundtrack. She thought Andrew’s version was even better than the original—
She sat bolt upright. Then scrambled out of bed and hit the floor running.
“Andrew!” She pounded on the bathroom door, breaking into the joyous sounds coming from the other side.
He opened the door, raising his brows as he took in the t-shirt that was all she used to sleep in. Under his gaze she blushed a little. The shirt was extra-long, but it still only reached mid-thigh. “What are you singing?”
He was holding a toothbrush, which he pointed at her. “A song from your computer. I do not know the name. Cody and I found it yesterday and played it. The singer has a limited range, but the melodic line is pleasant, although it does lack complexity.”
“You can’t sing the song, Andrew. You can’t know it. You can’t take it back with you. You have to forget it.”
Andrew listened politely. “I know. But while I am here I can sing what I want. I can wear what I want. I can learn what I want.” He waved the toothbrush. “Now, Madam, you have interrupted me in my ablutions. If you will excuse me?” He bowed his head and shoulders politely, then shut the door.
Faith stared at the door, slowly realizing that having Andrew in the twenty-first century for a protracted visit was not going to be restful.
They set off for NIT a half-an-hour earlier than Faith usually did, so of course the traffic patterns were all different. Faith had expected fewer cars. What she found was that there were more. As they waited in a left turn lane, watching the green turn to red for the second time, she decided this would be a good opportunity to let Andrew know what he could and he couldn’t do at NIT. “When we get to the office, Andrew, you have to remember to stay close to me.”
“Of course,” he said. He put his hands on the window beside him, inspecting the edges with his fingertips.
“People will wonder who you are.”
“A perfectly reasonable reaction.” He was jerking his fingers down now, rubbing them along the glass.
Faith frowned, bu
t plowed on. “You’ll tell them you’re an intern.”
“We discussed this with Cody yesterday.” He’d given up on the glass and was running his index finger along the edge of the frame.
“Yeah, well, I’m just going over it again. We can’t have any slip-ups.” The light turned green again. Faith gunned it so she could stay close to the car in front and successfully get through the intersection before the light turned again.
Andrew thumped the glass in a gesture filled with impatience, then he reached down, grabbed the door handle and released the latch. The door beside him swung open as Faith accelerated into her turn.
She screamed. “What are you doing? SHUT THE DOOR!”
It was a good thing Andrew was wearing a seat belt, because he leaned precariously, half-in, half-out as he reached for the heavy door, which was now swinging madly. With a shout of triumph he caught the handle. Pulling against momentum and velocity, he dragged the door back to the car, then shut it with a slam.
Faith’s heart was racing. Somehow she’d made the turn safely and was now on Massachusetts Avenue, the main artery she’d follow for most of her drive to NIT. She felt as if someone had just wadded her up and put her through the spin cycle of a washing machine. Andrew, on the other hand, appeared to be enjoying himself. His eyes gleamed and his whole body quivered in excitement.
“What on earth did you do that for?”
He rubbed his chin. “I wished to test the air temperature outside this vehicle. I also wished to listen to the sounds made by the others around us. When I could not find a way to lower the window beside me I decided to open the door instead.”
“You could have been killed,” Faith snapped.
“I would doubt that.” He tugged at the shoulder belt. “This harness you are required to wear is remarkably sturdy. I was in no danger.”
“Maybe you weren’t,” Faith muttered. Her voice rose. “But the cars around us were, because I was rattled enough that I could have driven into any one of them.”
