pulled her hand away from his and stood up.
“Please, sir. You must ask Mrs. Jessop to come back and help you. I’ll apologize to her myself if you want. Or you could hire a proper nurse. I’m so sorry!”
Michael almost laughed at her. “Katie. I don’t want a bloody nurse, and I don’t want Jessop. I want you.”
Katie shook her head, baffled by her own emotions, confused by the strength of her feelings for him. “Things were bad enough before, sir, when it was all inside me. Now it’s a thousand times worse.”
Then she turned and fled from the room.
Chapter Ten
Michael tackled his paperwork with renewed energy. Normally the thought of several hours of farm administration would have filled him with gloom, but today, he felt as if he had a spring in his step — or at least in his fountain pen.
He paid half a dozen overdue bills, writing out large checks as if he were a great philanthropist. He canceled his subscription to the tennis club and made his apologies to the Young Farmers Association, all without the usual surge of anger and resentment that accompanied thinking about people who were fit and well and didn’t have to spend their lives sitting down.
She’s delightful, he thought. Very pretty, and very sweet — but oh so emotional. Her kiss stirred sensations he had only dreamed of feeling again. He leaned back in his chair and for the first time since the accident, he thought about the future and making plans for the farm — that is, when he could stop himself from daydreaming about that amazing kiss.
He was just writing an apology to the coal man for the delay in settling his account when he heard her footsteps on the path outside his window. He’d know the sound of her light, determined step anywhere. He looked up and was stunned to see her suitcase in hand.
Michael didn’t need to think. Quick as a flash, he wheeled the chair around and headed back through his own rooms to the ramp that led to the front garden. His hands worked the wheels of the chair faster than ever, but by the time he arrived at the front of the house, Katie was already walking down the drive, heading purposefully toward the gates.
“Katie!”
Her reddish brown curls blew back in the wind, and she seemed to falter, but she pretended not to hear him. He noticed that in her haste to get out of his house, she hadn’t even put on her hat, though she was usually very correct about that sort of thing.
“Katie!”
He worked the wheels faster, thanking God that he hadn’t been able to get new gravel for the drive. He could get the chair scudding along at a fast clip in the dirt, and the drive’s downward slope helped tremendously. He must look ridiculous in hot pursuit of a pretty girl in a bloody wheelchair, but his fear of losing her was greater than his pride.
“Katie! Katie! Stop and turn around this minute!” Michael shouted. He had felt happy this morning, in a way he had never expected to feel happy again. Happy, on a day when he had resigned himself to the bloody chair. Happy, because of this little Irish wench. This extraordinary girl who provoked him and challenged him and made him feel alive again. He wasn’t about to let her slip through his fingers.
“There isn’t a train for two hours at least,” he lied. He was encouraged to see that slowed Katie a little.
She was nearly at the gatehouse when he caught up with her. He was rather out of breath from working the wheels so hard, and the chair was spattered with mud.
“Oh, sir,” she sighed, turning to face him, with a look of hurt resignation in her eyes.
“What’s all this?” he demanded, gesturing imperiously at the offending brown suitcase.
She glanced down at it, and looked guilty. “It’s better that I leave.”
“Better for whom?” he said. “Me? The children? Jessop, maybe? She’s probably the only one who won’t be sorry to see the back of you, Irish troublemaker that you are.”
Katie clenched her teeth and didn’t
“Please, sir. You must ask Mrs. Jessop to come back and help you. I’ll apologize to her myself if you want. Or you could hire a proper nurse. I’m so sorry!”
Michael almost laughed at her. “Katie. I don’t want a bloody nurse, and I don’t want Jessop. I want you.”
Katie shook her head, baffled by her own emotions, confused by the strength of her feelings for him. “Things were bad enough before, sir, when it was all inside me. Now it’s a thousand times worse.”
Then she turned and fled from the room.
Chapter Ten
Michael tackled his paperwork with renewed energy. Normally the thought of several hours of farm administration would have filled him with gloom, but today, he felt as if he had a spring in his step — or at least in his fountain pen.
He paid half a dozen overdue bills, writing out large checks as if he were a great philanthropist. He canceled his subscription to the tennis club and made his apologies to the Young Farmers Association, all without the usual surge of anger and resentment that accompanied thinking about people who were fit and well and didn’t have to spend their lives sitting down.
She’s delightful, he thought. Very pretty, and very sweet — but oh so emotional. Her kiss stirred sensations he had only dreamed of feeling again. He leaned back in his chair and for the first time since the accident, he thought about the future and making plans for the farm — that is, when he could stop himself from daydreaming about that amazing kiss.
He was just writing an apology to the coal man for the delay in settling his account when he heard her footsteps on the path outside his window. He’d know the sound of her light, determined step anywhere. He looked up and was stunned to see her suitcase in hand.
Michael didn’t need to think. Quick as a flash, he wheeled the chair around and headed back through his own rooms to the ramp that led to the front garden. His hands worked the wheels of the chair faster than ever, but by the time he arrived at the front of the house, Katie was already walking down the drive, heading purposefully toward the gates.
“Katie!”
Her reddish brown curls blew back in the wind, and she seemed to falter, but she pretended not to hear him. He noticed that in her haste to get out of his house, she hadn’t even put on her hat, though she was usually very correct about that sort of thing.
“Katie!”
He worked the wheels faster, thanking God that he hadn’t been able to get new gravel for the drive. He could get the chair scudding along at a fast clip in the dirt, and the drive’s downward slope helped tremendously. He must look ridiculous in hot pursuit of a pretty girl in a bloody wheelchair, but his fear of losing her was greater than his pride.
“Katie! Katie! Stop and turn around this minute!” Michael shouted. He had felt happy this morning, in a way he had never expected to feel happy again. Happy, on a day when he had resigned himself to the bloody chair. Happy, because of this little Irish wench. This extraordinary girl who provoked him and challenged him and made him feel alive again. He wasn’t about to let her slip through his fingers.
“There isn’t a train for two hours at least,” he lied. He was encouraged to see that slowed Katie a little.
She was nearly at the gatehouse when he caught up with her. He was rather out of breath from working the wheels so hard, and the chair was spattered with mud.
“Oh, sir,” she sighed, turning to face him, with a look of hurt resignation in her eyes.
“What’s all this?” he demanded, gesturing imperiously at the offending brown suitcase.
She glanced down at it, and looked guilty. “It’s better that I leave.”
“Better for whom?” he said. “Me? The children? Jessop, maybe? She’s probably the only one who won’t be sorry to see the back of you, Irish troublemaker that you are.”
Katie clenched her teeth and didn’t
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