American Pie by Maggie Osborne Page A

her ear, smothering the traffic noises behind her. Before Stefan pulled himself out of the pit and came toward her, she met Jamie's eyes and silently assured him that she understood about the fight, that she forgave him. Then Stefan was bending to the lunch pail, and she didn't dare glance at Jamie Kelly again.
    But she felt him watching her, sensed when he moved away from the wheelbarrow to sit against the dirt wall of the pit where he could see her as he ate his noonday meal. If proof was needed that she responded to his half-naked body and the intensity of his stare, she saw it in the tremble of fingers as she removed Stefan's lunch items from the pail.
    Afterward, as she returned to the tenement, stopping to call wherever she spotted a Help Wanted sign in a shop window, thoughts of Jamie Kelly whirled through her mind. She saw again the sunlight glowing in his hair, the line of his strong jaw, the way his tensing shoulders tapered to a lean waist. Blushing, she recalled the glistening sweat that drew her attention to his naked chest. And she thought about the strange heated flutter in her stomach when she met his gaze. She would have given anything to speak to him even for a few minutes.
    She absently tucked a heat-damp tendril beneath the brim of her straw boater. Practical Lucie, she thought with a rueful smile. Was it possible she had been wrong all these years and actually she was a romantic at heartthinking immodest thoughts and pining for a man she could not have? Stefan would never agree to Jamie Kelly, not in a hundred years.
    Sighing, she tried to banish Jamie from her thoughts and concentrated on crossing the jammed street, holding her hem away from horse droppings, tobacco splats and the ever present summer dust. But Jamie Kelly would not be banished so easily. Already her practical mind counted the hours until noon tomorrow. And the romantic leaning that had gone unsuspected until now wished for a fresh blossom to pin to her breast. Something pretty and bright to make her desirable in one man's eyes.
     
    "I didn't think you'd still be here, boyo," Gustoffer said with a grin as he counted a dollar into Jamie's blistered palm. "The Broadway book's been losing a bundle betting each day is your last."
    "And I've been making a bundle," Jamie said with a tired smile, "betting that it's not."
    "Shrewd one, aren't you?" Gustoffer laughed. He winked. "Last four days I been betting on you myself, hoping to recoup my losses." He started to clap Jamie on the shoulder, saw the sun-scorched redness and changed his mind. After waiting for Jamie to hang up his shovel, Gustoffer followed him outside and locked the shed for the night. The rest of the men had gone. "Finding it a bit unfriendly, son?"
    "A bit," Jamie said, easing his shirt over his sunburned skin. He slicked back sweat-damp hair and settled his cap at a jaunty angle.
    "Give it time." They stood beside the pit for a moment, studying the deepening excavation, then walked toward lower Broadway, idly examining the lavish displays behind the windows they passed. "It ain't none of my business"
    "But?" Jamie asked, smiling.
    "But there's trouble coming. Every horse on the site knows you're lollygagging after Kolska's sister. Except Kolska. And that ain't gonna last, boyo. If Kolska don't see soon what's right under his whiskers, some buck is going to tell him. You get my meaning?"
    Jamie thrust his hands into his pockets and kicked a stone along the pavement. "I mean to court her."
    Gustoffer made a sound of disgust. "Only a bastard mick could be so gol-damned stupid! You was lucky once, you ain't gonna be again. Next time Kolska is going to kill your arse."
    He suspected Gustoffer was right. "As long as you're in an advice-giving frame of mind, how do I persuade Kolska to allow me to call?"
    "Son, you got to be the most stubborn set of coattails this mother's son ever seen." Gustoffer spit a stream of brown juice toward a passing carriage, then stopped to stare at