Willow Smoke (32 page)

“Right.”

“Not that I’d let him.
You’re not ready
to
go
off
on
your
own
yet.
There
are
still
significant
gaps
in
your
education.”

A
slow
smile
crept
across
Daisy’s
lips.
“How
come
you
want
to
buy
me
expensive
clothes
only
to
imagine
me
naked?
Doesn’t
make
much
sense,
when
you
can
see
me naked most any time.”

Nick
laughed
a
low
guttural
laugh.
“You
have
to
develop
a
keener
sense
for
mystery
and
romance,
my
young
lover.
Yep,
it’s
going
be
quite
a
while
before
you
can
go
out
on
your
own.
Now,
why
don’t
you
change
out
of
these
fancy
clothes
while
I
go
make
the
salesclerk
happy?”

“But I’ve never bought
clothes that
don’t
even
have
price
tags
on
them.
These
have
to
be
way
too
expensive.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m
way too rich.
So
make
me
happy
and
don’t
complain
so
much.
You’d
think
you’d
never
accepted
anything
from
anyone
before.”

“It’s
like
being
in
an
art
museum.”
Daisy
stood in
the
center
of
the
finishing
room
at
Paddle
Dreams
Unlimited.

She’d
had
no
idea
what
Nick
had
been
talking
about
when
he
spoke
of
his
shop. At
least
a
dozen
people
worked
in
half
a
dozen
rooms
on
canoes
at
various
stages of
construction.
Visualizing
the
roughed-out
frames in an earlier room as canoes
had
been
difficult.
But
the
beauty
of
these
nearly
finished
products
was
beyond
anything
she
could’ve
imagined.

“No
two
are
alike,”
she
said.
“People
actually
put
these
in
the
water?
Aren’t
they
afraid
of
banging
them
up?”

Nick
and
Tom
Harrison
both
laughed
at
her.
“A
few
people
who
buy
these
canoes
are
collectors,
and
those
boats
may
never
feel
the water,” Tom replied, “but most
buyers
want
something
that
is
one
of
a
kind
that
performs
like
a
duck
in
water.”

“If
they
need
repairing,”
Nick
added,
running
a
hand
across
the
hull
of
one
of
the
three
completed
canoes,
“the
owner
can
always
bring
it
back
here
and
we’ll
take
care of it. The first year at no cost;
after that they have to pay.”

“So
why
are
these
canoes
so
expensive?
How
do
you
get
the
colors
to
gleam
like
that?
I
didn’t
see
a
painting
room.”

“No,”
Tom
replied,
smiling
as
if
he
was
about
to share a
secret. “The color is there
in
the
wood;
we
just
have
to
be
patient
and
skilled
enough
to
let
the
natural
qualities of
the wood emerge. If you try to
force
it or shape it to fit your
preconceived
image,
it
won’t
pan
out.”

“Tom’s
right,
Daisy.
Look
at
this
grain
closely.”
Nick
leaned
over
a
canoe
and
pointed
at
a
particular
strip
of
wood.
Daisy
bent
and
narrowed
her
eyes.

“See
how
the
grain
undulates?
The
next
strip
is slightly different. It’s
more linear.
The
grain
and
the
color
change
as
the
craftsman
sands
each
wood
strip.
That’s
what
makes
cedar
wood
strip
canoes
so
unique,
and,
depending
on
one’s
desires,
so
time
demanding.
You
could
work
these
pieces
of
wood
for
days.
So
you
have
dark
strips—nearly black, variations of
reds
and
browns,
even
some
yellows.
Most
of
what
we
use
is
western
red
cedar;
sometimes
we’ll
add
Alaskan
cedar
to
gain
even
more
variation
in
color.”

“Such attention to
detail. I can’t say I’ve
ever thought
about canoes before, but this
is
spectacular.
And
you
supervise
the
entire
process?”
Daisy
asked,
turning
to
Tom.

“That’s
my
job.
But
the
men
and
women
you
see
working
here
know
what
they’re
doing.
Still,
it’s
good
to
have
another
set
of eyes looking things over.

“While
each
canoe
is
unique,
there
are
no
flaws.
No
rough
edges,
not
the
slightest
flaw
from
the
finishing
process.”
Tom
grinned.
“Some of our workers want to run
when
they
see
me
coming
with
my
bucket
of
water
and
sponge.
Dampening
the
wood
causes
the
grain
to
rise.
Scratches
and
poorly
sanded
areas
turn
darker than
the
surrounding
wood,
if
you
have
good
eyes
to
see.
I
have
good
eyes.”

Walking
back
toward
Nick’s
office,
Daisy
asked,
“So
how
do
you
know
the
boat
will
float?
I’ve
seen
some
great
looking
horses
that
couldn’t
run
a
lick.”

“That’s
where
I
come
in,”
Nick
said,
waving
to
a
young
woman
who
had
just
looked
up
from
her
work,
raised
her
goggles
and
smiled.
She
held
a
light
power
sander
in
her
hand.

Daisy
thought
the
woman
smiled
too
boldly
at
her
boss.

“While
each
of
these
canoes
is
unique,
we
are
working
with
only
so
many
models.
Similar
length,
weight,
strength
and
so
on.
We
may
make
only
a
couple
dozen
of
a
given
model.
We
don’t
want
to
become
the
local
factory
outlet
for
canoes.
Anyway,
I’m
usually
fiddling
around
with
design
and
testing
models.
Once
the
prototype
is
constructed, I take
it to the Boundary
Waters in northern
Minnesota to run it
through
its
paces.”

“Really.
Sort
of
like
the
exercise
rider.”

“Would
you
like
some
more
coffee?”
Nick
grabbed
the
pot
and
filled
Daisy’s
cup,
Tom’s,
and
then
his
own.

“Have
you
ever
had
a
boat
sink
under
you?”

Nick
smiled
and
shook
his
head.
“If
you’re
halfway
good
at
design,
that
shouldn’t
happen.
I’ve
certainly
had
to
make
changes,
but
I’ve
never
had
one
sink
because
of
poor
design.”

“But
they
do
sink?”

Nick
frowned.
“I
forgot.
You’ve
never
been
in
a
canoe?”