Page 30
“Charles.” She shouldn’t have been so surprised to see him. After all, he’d made a point of telling her he’d be in touch.
“Your dad figured you’d gone out riding, but he seemed to think you’d be home soon.”
“Have you been waiting long?”
“Not really. Your father’s kept me entertained.”
“Is he still on the front porch?”
“He hasn’t moved since I got here.”
Dispirited, Steffie looked away. “That’s what I was afraid of. Valerie’s gone, and he seems to believe she’ll come back if he sits there long enough.”
Charles frowned heavily. “Is something going on? A problem?”
“No,” she answered quickly, perhaps too quickly because Charles’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I mean, nothing you need to worry about. Dad desperately wants to believe Colby and Val will kiss and make up—that’s the reason he’s being so stubborn. By dinnertime he’ll have to recognize that it simply isn’t going to happen.”
It might’ve been because she was nervous and flustered, or maybe she just wasn’t watching where she was going, but Steffie tripped over a bale of hay.
Although she threw out her arms in an effort to right herself, it was too late. She fell forward, but before she completely lost her balance, Charles caught her around the waist. He twisted his body so that when they went down, he took the brunt of the fall.
It was as though the years had evaporated. They’d been in virtually the same position on that previous occasion, with Steffie sprawled over him, her heart pounding. Only this time she hadn’t manipulated the circumstances. This time she wasn’t in control.
They were both breathing hard. A tumult of confused emotions raged within her, and she braced her arms against him, ready to get up and move away. Instead, his arms, which were around her waist, held her firmly in place.
“It seems we’ve been here before,” he said, his eyes gazing into hers.
“I—” She stopped abruptly and nodded.
“Do you remember what happened that day?”
Incapable of speaking, she nodded again.
“Do you remember the way we kissed?”
She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t allow him to read the answer in her eyes.
He held her fast for another long moment before he gradually eased his hold. “Let’s talk about that time.”
“No!” she cried. The instant she was free, she rushed to her feet, not realizing she must have sprained her ankle. But when she placed her weight on her left foot she experienced a sharp stabbing pain. She couldn’t suppress a whimper as she leaned against the stall door for support.
“You’re hurt,” Charles said, immediately getting to his feet. He slipped his arm around her waist.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ve just twisted my ankle—it hardly hurts at all,” she lied.
Without another word, Charles effortlessly scooped her into his arms.
“Charles, please,” she said, growing angry. “I’m perfectly fine. It’s a minor sprain, nothing more. There’s no need for this.”
He didn’t reply but began to carry her out of the stable.
“Where are you taking me?” she demanded.
“The kitchen. You should put ice on it right away.”
“I want you to know I don’t appreciate these caveman tactics.”
“That’s too bad.” He was short of breath by the time he reached the back door, which infuriated Steffie even more. “Put me down this instant,” she snapped.
