"So did 1."
"Just when I was about to sleep, I bolted wide
awake and I thought I heard you calling me." He made a noise deep in his throat, holding me
tighter against his warm body. "I was on my way to
you when you fell through the door, just like a prayer
answered, and yet, I shouldn't have allowed this to
happen. I'm so afraid you're going to be sorry. I never
want to hurt you."
"You could never hurt me, not ever! I have
never met a man so gentle and kind."
His chuckle was low. "How many men have
you known at the tender age of eighteen?"
"Only the one I told you about," I whispered,
hiding my face when he wanted to gaze into my eyes.
"Will you tell me more about him?"
He listened without asking questions, his
slender hands caressing me all the while, and when
my words died, he kissed my lips, each one of my
fingertips. "Have you heard from this Cal Dennison
since you came to live in Farthy?"
"I never want to hear from him, not ever!" How
vehemently I cried that!
We were silly during our first meal of the day,
acting like two adolescent kids just finding each other.
I had never eaten a fried egg and bacon sandwich
before, or known that strawberry jam enhanced the
flavor of both egg and bacon. "It was pure serendipity how I discovered this gourmet treat," he went on to explain. "I was about seven years old and recovering from another of those childhood diseases that used to plague me, and Jillian was scolding me for being messy at the table, when I dropped my toast with strawberry jam face down into my plate. 'You eat it anyway!' she yelled, and when I did, I found out for
the first time that I liked eggs and bacon . . ." "Jillian used to yell at you?" Astonishment
filled me. I had believed a great deal of her
grouchiness with me was because she was resentful of