Chapter Fourteen
HE’D HANDLED THE SITUATIONbadly.
Luke knew he’d done or said something terribly wrong, but he wasn’t quite sure how to fix it. Sarah stalked ahead of him, her slim back a rigid line of control.
He wanted to grab her by the shoulder, pull her back into his arms, and kiss all her fears away, but he didn’t trust himself to ever let her go. She’d become an obsession and now that he’d tasted her, he couldn’t help but want more.
How could she think he didn’t want her? He knew that was the root of what was upsetting her. It would have been laughable if not for the tears he’d glimpsed in her eyes when she’d turned away from him.
To add insult to injury, his leg was hurting worse than ever. Every step he took was pure agony. Three-quarters of the way to the house, his battered body couldn’t take any more abuse. His knee buckled beneath him and he pitched forward, catching himself with his hands as he tumbled forward.
Sarah was beside him in a matter of seconds. “What happened?” She ran her hands over his body, checking for injuries. “Are you all right?”
“Do I look all right?” Sick with embarrassment, he wrenched away from her as she closed her hand over his upper thigh.
“We should have stayed on the porch.” She glared down at him, hands on hips. “You should have told me how bad it was. I would have helped you.”
“My knee gave out. It happens sometimes.” He couldn’t remember ever being so humiliated in his life. He didn’t want her to help him. He couldn’t stand being pitied.
“Stay right here,” she ordered. “I’m going to get Matt.”
Before he could voice his thoughts on the matter, she was gone, leaving him to curse at the shadows. “Stay right here,” he mocked, falsetto.Shit. It wasn’t like he could go anywhere else. The only way he was getting back to the house right now was if he crawled there on his hands and knees.
And even that might be preferable to having to deal with Matt and Becky while he was in this condition. He felt utterly drained, both in body and in spirit. How could he ask Sarah to marry him when he couldn’t even walk to the river and back without falling on his ass?
With a groan, he levered himself to a sitting position and waited for his rescue party to make it back from the house. They arrived moments later, the whole motley crew. Becky carried a lantern, and Sarah wielded his crutch.
Matt was in the lead, wearing that irritating expression of big-brotherly concern. Luke cursed again. This evening was quickly going from bad to worse. The last thing he wanted right now was Matt’s condescension.
To his surprise, his brother managed to keep his opinions to himself. Matt knelt beside him on the grass and slipped one arm around his waist. “Can you make it if you lean on me and Sarah?”
Luke nodded, although he knew it wasn’t going to be easy. He just wanted to get this over with, get home so he could lick his wounds in private. “I’m ready,” he muttered.
Sarah lent him her arm as well, and between the two of them, they managed to get him to his feet, so to speak. The pain in his stump ricocheted through his body and his breath hissed out in a strangled gasp.
“Are you all right?” Matt asked.
