Karen Kirst - Married by Christmas

“I meant, what’s wrong besides the fact that you’re stuck with me,” he amended.

Stuck with him. As in forever. Images of him and her and a preacher and a church full of disapproving townspeople accosted her.

He must’ve recognized the unease in her expression, because he quickly tacked on, “Temporarily, of course.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?”

Caleb had always managed to read her moods. The low, coaxing tone, combined with the imprint of his rougher fingertips against the sensitive skin of her inner wrist, reminded her of the time he’d happened upon her following a particularly upsetting fight with Adam. At the first sight of her tears, he’d grimly pulled her into his arms, fingers ever-so-lightly skimming her back as she poured out her frustration.

One thing she’d forgotten about him—he was a fantastic listener. A trait Adam didn’t share. Her heart beat out a dull tattoo.

Was it possible that, in her brokenness following the accident, she’d elevated her and Adam’s relationship to near-perfect status, blinding herself to his faults while doing the exact opposite with Caleb? One man couldn’t be all good, the other all bad.

Jerking from his grasp, she rubbed the spot where he’d held her in an effort to banish the tingling sensation. Loneliness and the scarceness of human touch was no excuse for weakness around this man.

“I’ll be fine just as soon as you’re gone,” she snapped. “I’m going out to the barn. Amy’s in the bedroom reading if you need a drink. Anything else, she can come and get me.”

Silence choked the cabin as she stalked away, throwing her cape about her shoulders once again when what she really longed to do was lounge before the fire with a mug of rich-bodied coffee and her latest rug-hooking project. Once safely on the porch, the winter air swirled around her, stealing up her skirts and in between her scarf and collar, cold enough to freeze eyelashes. It wasn’t enough to drive her back inside, however.

For the hundredth time, she begged God to end this torment. Her greatest hope lay with Doc Owens’s visit. Please let him deem Caleb fit for travel, Lord. At this point, she wasn’t worried about faceless outlaws. She was worried about Caleb’s lingering presence in her home and what that might mean to her future.

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