To Win Her Heart by Karen Witemeyer Read Free Book Online Page A

scrambled up, as well. “Don’t forget your school books and lunch buckets,” Miss Spencer called out to them. “And be careful walking home. I’ll see you next week.”
    She leaned to the side to retrieve her book from the floor, then stood. The children filed past in a mass, but she reached out to touch the arm or shoulder or back of each youngster that moved within reach. It was almost as if she didn’t want to let them go.
    They shouted their good-byes and she waved, standing still until the last child disappeared through the doorway.
    Levi enjoyed the warm scene so much, he wasn’t prepared when she suddenly spun around.
    Her gaze flew to his face and she jumped back, a gasp vibrating the air between them.
    Like an idiot, he just stood there staring at her, the only thought running through his brain being that her pale green eyes reminded him of the lacy lichens that grew on the old oak tree behind his father’s house.
    She clutched the book to her chest like a shield. “What are you doing here?”

Chapter Six

    “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.” Eden stared at her shoes for a minute before gathering enough courage to look the blacksmith in the eye again. He didn’t say anything, but the shock on his face softened into a hint of a smile. She hoped that signified forgiveness.
    She hadn’t meant to be rude. It was just that Levi Grant was the last person she’d expected to see in her library. Male visitors were rare anyway, but seeing this particular one standing so large and so . . . well . . . close, must have disabled the part of her brain that usually kept her from blurting uncensored thoughts.
    Stretching her lips into a polite curve, Eden attempted another greeting. “Is there something I can assist you with, Mr. Grant?”
    “Wanted to . . . look at what you had here.” He nodded toward the shelves on the far side of the room. “You’ve got a good collection.”
    A little thrill of pride shot through her, even though the fellow paying the compliment probably couldn’t distinguish Shakespeare from Sophocles. “Thank you. My father started gathering tomes for his personal use before I was born, and when I mentioned that I wanted to open a lending library here in Spencer, he generously donated many of the books you see on the north side of the room. My tastes run more toward literature and novels, so that is what you will find on this side.” She released one hand from Black Beauty ’s cover long enough to gesture at the shelves along the wall on her left.
    He nodded.
    She fought to keep her eyes from rolling in the direction of the ceiling. Dipping his chin seemed to be his answer for everything.
    When he remained silent, she held out her book and indicated with a raised brow that she needed him to step aside so that she might replace it on the shelf. “Excuse me, please.”
    He moved out of the way, and she slipped Anna Sewell’s autobiographical horse story between Laura Howe Richards’s The Joyous Story of Toto and Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island. She straightened and caught him watching her.
    Her breath got tangled up in her throat. What was it about this man that put her so on edge? Was it his size? She was sure his arms boasted a larger circumference than her head, yet she felt no threat of violence from him. No, it had something to do with his eyes. There was a hint of apology in them, as if he knew he wasn’t measuring up to her expectations. And the vulnerability she’d glimpsed on their first meeting was there, too—at least it had been until he shuttered it. The combination left her with the odd urge to reassure him. And that scared her.
    Her judgment regarding the masculine gender had proven faulty in the past. How foolish would she prove to be if she developed soft feelings for a man who couldn’t even remember her name? Better to offer what assistance she could and hurry him along.
    Eden stepped toward the shelves on the north wall. “Is there