Mail-Order Millionaire Read Online Free PDF Page B

ship from another planet instead of a Sno-Cat from the next state, and he wanted her to keep talking. If she did, then he wouldn’t have to. He could just sit and listen and watch her lips move.
    “Except for the four years I spent in New York. I used to think Northwood was the most boring place in the world. I could hardly wait to leave. So I went to seek my fortune and came home empty-handed.” She smiled, but there was a sadness lurking at the back of her eyes. “I found out there are worse things than being bored.”
    He nodded understandingly, but he didn’t understand, not really. And there was something guarded about her expression that warned him not to ask. He stood and cleared the plates from the table. “Maybe you’re better at chess than seeking your fortune.” He was certainly better at chess than at making casual conversation with strangers.
    She tucked her legs under her in the wide comfortable chair. “I don’t think so. I can’t really remember much except that you’re supposed to capture the king.”
    He placed the board on the table. “Very good. It’s called checkmating.”
    She fingered the white ivory chess men with her long tapered fingers, setting them up on the two rows nearest her in perfect order.
    “It looks like it’s coming back to you,” he said with a half smile. Was she the kind of player who acted dumb, then wiped up the board with her opponent? If she was, he was ready for her. “Would you like some coffee?”
    Absently she lifted one of her knights off the board. “Coffee? Sure.”
    He stood in the doorway of the kitchen waiting for the coffee to brew, watching the light shine on her hair and turn it to gold. The smell of the coffee and the picture of her ensconced in the armchair made him think of a home and someone to come home to. Treacherous thoughts. He moved to the table with cups in his hand and cautioned himself not to get carried away. “Your move,” he said.
    Hesitantly she moved a pawn to King Four. He nodded approvingly. He moved his pawn to Queen Three and immediately wished he hadn’t. He wasn’t thinking very straight. She propped her chin in her hand and made another move. A very good move. “Who taught you to play?” he asked.
    “My grandfather. He and my grandmother raised us. When his old friends died or moved away he taught me to play.”
    “He did a good job.” He stared at the pieces. Rooks blended into pawns and pawns into knights and his mind went blank. He should be taking control of the board, but he couldn’t. All he could see was her hands spread flat on the table, her unpolished nails, her only jewelry a plain gold watch with a leather band. He pulled back and surveyed the board from a different angle.
    She sipped her coffee. “What about you, how did you learn?”
    “I broke my leg in my senior year in high school and I had a lot of time on my hands.” Too much time. Time when other guys were hanging out talking to girls with an ease he envied.
    “Playing football?”
    “No, skiing. So I got a book and taught myself chess. It’s hard to find anyone to play with. So I play against the computer and it always wins. Are you sure you haven’t played recently?”
    She shook her head. “My grandfather left me the chessboard along with the farm, but I don’t have any time to play.” She stared off in the distance. “I told him I didn’t want the farm. I had my own plans. I wonder what he’d think if he could see me now.” There was a long silence.
    He leaned back in his chair and studied her face, forgetting the game on the table. “He’d probably think you were doing just fine.”
    “Maybe,” she said and the worry lines between her eyebrows disappeared. He wished they could stay that way, with the tension gone between them, until sunrise. He was so relaxed he didn’t ever want to move again. But he had to move. In a few minutes he had to check the instruments.
    He stood and stretched. “While you’re thinking over your