Part 7 (2/2)
”I help him out once in a while.”
”We'll be back for the wagon when the library closes.”
”I'll be here.”
The library was only a short distance from the livery, but the building itself had several stairs. Annie stood by while Charmaine wrangled her chair up the stairs and inside the library, then came back for her.
She clung to Charmaine's arm, managed the steps, and went inside. It didn't matter that her cousin couldn't lift and carry her, because Charmaine didn't mind her awkward stumblings, and was always ready to offer her strength as support.
”Good afternoon,” Mrs. Krenshaw said in the loud whisper she used even when not in her natural habitat. She stood behind the loan desk, a pencil tucked into the lopsided graying bun on the top of her head.
The cousins greeted her quietly.
Annie seated herself in her chair and Charmaine handed the librarian a few books they were returning.
Annie rolled herself across the s.p.a.cious open floor toward one of the sections of wooden shelving.
She had been spending an hour a day, in twenty-minute intervals, standing and walking in the privacy of her room. So far, the practice had had no ill effects aside from a few sore muscles.
Today it gave her a feeling of accomplishment and independence to leave her chair at the end of a row of shelves and inch along the books, examining spines, reaching tomes on the top shelves.
”Goodness, Annie, look at you!” Charmaine said. The building was large and open, with wooden walls and ceiling, and sound carried clear to the desk.
Annie placed her finger to her lips to silence her. ”I've been practicing,” she confessed.
”Standing?”
”Walking.”
”What does your mother think?”
”She doesn't know. Don't tell her, please.”
”You know I won't. I think it's positively wonderful.” After voicing her approval, she moved away, browsing though the books.
Annie found a few she wanted to borrow, placed them on her chair and began another search. Many she'd read before, but she didn't mind reading them again. Some were beloved old friends she visited often. Locating a favorite she'd borrowed half a dozen times, she opened it and scanned the familiar worn pages.
She'd become engrossed in the scene in which a young boy who has raised a colt is forced to sell him when a step behind her caught her attention. The back of her neck p.r.i.c.kled.
”h.e.l.lo, Annie.” The greeting was whispered so near her ear that warm breath touched her neck and scattered s.h.i.+vers across her shoulders. The masculine voice was unmistakable.
She turned and found Luke standing so close, her skirts brushed his pant legs. He smiled, deep crevices slas.h.i.+ng his cheeks and making him appear rakishly handsome.
Annie pressed the book to her pounding chest. ”Luke,” she whispered.
A faded blue s.h.i.+rt encased his broad chest, open at the throat, and he wore a pair of dark trousers. ”Afternoon,” he said softly.
A tremor of excitement pa.s.sed through her. She glanced behind him, seeing no one. ”What are you doing here?”
”I saw the Renlows' horse and Burt told me you and your cousin came over here.”
And he'd come away from his business to see her? His interest flattered her like nothing else could. Her neck and cheeks warmed.
”Shouldn't I have come?” he asked, doubt etching his brow.
”I-I'm just surprised,” she managed. ”I'm glad you came.”
”And I'm surprised to see you standing.”
”I've been practicing,” she told him.
”Any problems?”
She shook her head. ”A few aches in the unused muscles, but it's getting better-and easier. I can stand for longer periods of time now.”
”I'm proud of you.”
Everything inside her warmed at those words, but the sentiment embarra.s.sed her, too. ”Nothing most people don't take for granted.”
”Most people don't have the same challenge.”
She smiled, his appreciation for her small achievement a joy she felt all the way to her toes. ”I guess not.”
”Maybe you could stay in town for supper?”
”Aunt Vera is expecting us back. She would worry.”
His expression fell. ”Oh.”
”But tomorrow. We could plan it for tomorrow and tell her ahead of time.”
He raised a brow as though having second thoughts. ”What if someone sees us and tells Burdell or your parents?”
”Someone will see us, that's for sure.” She thought a moment. ”What comes after that, I don't know.”
”Maybe we shouldn't then. If you're afraid of what will happen.”
Annie studied the concern in his sky-blue eyes, the scar on his lip, weighing her parents' anger against the pleasure of spending time with him. ”I'm only afraid for you.”
”I'm not afraid,” he replied. ”I was never afraid except that I thought they might send you away.”
”I'm a big girl now,” she said, a soft declaration, a p.r.o.nouncement of the maturity and independence she craved. ”Even if they don't acknowledge the fact.”
”Then you want to? Meet me for dinner?”
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