Part 13 (1/2)
”Mr. Denton?” she whispered.
He didn't answer.
She felt her way to his chair, almost tripping over his legs.
”Mr. Denton?” She touched his arm.
Still no response.
She shook his shoulder. ”Mr. Denton?” She shook a little harder. ”Joe. Wake up.”
His breath cut off. He lifted his head. ”Huh? What?”
”Where's my room?”
”Anna?” His voice was drowsy with sleep.
”Yes.”
He tucked his feet under him. ”You all finished?”
”That's right, but I don't know where my room is.”
Yawning, he stood. ”Take whichever one you want, I guess.”
”Here? In the house?”
”Of course.”
She blinked. ”Well, that's very generous. Thank you.”
”My pleasure.” He waved his hand. ”After you.”
She glanced at the back door. ”Aren't you going to leave first?”
”Leave?”
”Well, yes. You just said I could have a room upstairs.”
”You can.”
She sighed. ”If I'm upstairs, then you can't stay here, too. It wouldn't be proper.”
”I live here.”
”I know, but what would people think?”
”They won't think anything.”
Surely he didn't believe she was that gullible. She wished she could see him better. ”Mr. Denton, I'm afraid I must insist. The two of us cannot stay in the same house. It simply isn't done.”
”It's done all the time.”
”Not with me, it's not.”
”Where is it exactly that you expect me to sleep?”
She shrugged. ”With your men, I suppose.”
”I can't. I'm the boss. It would make them uncomfortable.”
”Well, it would make me uncomfortable if you stayed here. What about the barn? You do have a barn, don't you?”
He said nothing for a long minute. ”You expect me to sleep in the barn when I have a perfectly good bed upstairs?”
She sighed. ”No. No, of course not. I'll sleep in the barn.”
”You will not.”
”I don't mind.”
”I do.”
”Then we have a problem, sir.”
Her eyes had adjusted enough to see him run a hand through his hair. ”Fine. I'll sleep in the barn. But I'm not moving out of my own house. I'm still eating here, leaving all my clothes here, and was.h.i.+ng up here.”
She started to object but stopped herself. It was late. He was tired. And he was big.
”Thank you.”
He didn't say ”you're welcome.” Just stood there.
”Go ahead,” he said. ”I'll leave after you go upstairs.”
She hesitated. ”You promise?”
”I do.”
After a tense moment, she made her way toward the stairs, but misjudged and ran into the wall. ”Umph.”
”Here.” He walked up behind her, fumbled around for her arm, then ran his fingers down until he had her hand in his. ”Follow me.”
Goose b.u.mps jumped to the surface of her skin. He moved to the stairs with her in tow. She swallowed her protest, concentrating instead on keeping the dragging tablecloth in place.
Even his hands are big, she thought. And coa.r.s.e to the touch. But they were gentle as he led her up the steps and to the room across from the one he ordinarily occupied.