Chapter Four
THE TWO-HOUR TRIP TOtown was made in utter silence. When they topped the ridge that overlooked Milton, Sarah nearly whooped with joy. Only a few more minutes and she’d be rid of the disturbing stranger sitting on the wagon seat beside her.
Embarrassment flooded her whenever she thought of her unwarranted optimism as she’d cooked Luke breakfast this morning. During their pleasant dinner the night before, she’d been lulled into thinking there might be something in this awkward situation worth salvaging.
Now she wondered why she’d even considered it. Her first impression of Luke Chandler had been correct. He was nothing but a drunken lout.
Her gaze shifted unbidden to his beautiful profile, to his thick, black lashes and perfectly formed lips. An incredibly handsome drunken lout, she amended.
The mere thought of him, half-naked and aroused in his kitchen, was enough to make her weak in the knees. But he was more trouble than she needed.
Luke glanced in her direction for the first time since they’d left his house. She was mortified that he’d caught her staring. His stormy gray gaze shifted away, toward the back end of his horse. “Do you still want me to talk to William Cole about that teaching position?”
“No,” she stated, her voice as rigid as her posture. “I don’t want any favors from you.”
“Sarah...” A muscle twitched in his cheek, giving away his frustration. He brought the horses to a sudden halt and turned to look at her. “Ah, hell. I’m sorry.”
She stared at him in stunned surprise, betting that apologies didn’t come easy for a man like him.
He gave her hand a brief squeeze, leaving behind an impression of warmth and strength. “I feel responsible for you. I know I’ve behaved like an ass, but I want you to know you can come to me if you ever need help.”
He felt responsible for her. Well, that wasn’t the response she was looking for, but it was a start.
Sarah swallowed and fought to control her racing pulse. He leaned forward infinitesimally, and for one crazy, heated moment, she thought he might kiss her.
For one foolish heartbeat, she wanted him to.
“I know,” he muttered, easing away with a deprecating shrug. “I’m not exactly Lancelot.”
She laughed, breaking the tension. “White knights are highly overrated.”
One corner of Luke’s mouth lifted in a rueful, lopsided grin. “I hope everything works out for you, Sarah. You deserve that husband you’ve come so far to find.”
Her earlier fury had faded, and it suddenly seemed very important to establish some sort of connection. “I’ll see you again, won’t I?” She couldn’t bear the thought of being totally alone in a strange town. “I’d like to be friends.”
“Friends?” He laughed a bit at that. “I’ve never had a woman friend before.”
