“You plan to have the babe out of wedlock?” Kane scratched
his head.
She looked
skyward and gritted her teeth. Was the man dense? “Can you stop walking? It’s
hard to talk to you at this pace.”
He slowed
but continued to walk. “Daylight’s a wasting and I’ve got a deadline.”
“Will you
at least let me explain so you can stop the rumors?”
Her foot
caught a gopher hole, and she tripped, falling
headlong onto the hard ground. She cried out when her elbow kissed the ground.
“Goodness,
you’re a walking calamity. First pickles and now, a sprawl in the grass. You
wouldn’t perchance be related to me Aunt Nell?”
She groaned
and rolled to her knees. Every joint ached. Twigs and grass stuck to her dress,
and she brushed them away with sore hands. She moaned at the pain and glared at
her scraped skin.
“Are you
hurt?”
Now he
asked. She shook her head. “I’m not sure.”
He grabbed
her elbow none too gently and helped her stand. She tested her foot and found
herself uninjured. Praise be. An injury would have complicated matters more.
“Thank you, Mr. McKenna.”
“You’re
welcome. Now, if you doon’t mind, I’d like to be gettin’ back to me work.”
“But . . .”
“Miss
Joyce, do you see that armature?” He pointed a finger at the structure. “That’s
a mighty important bridge to folks around here. Can you tell me in all honesty
that your quest for a hoosband be as important as the building of that bridge?”
She
swallowed hard and frowned, thinking of Sarabeth. “For one person, it’s even
more important.”
He frowned.
“To be sure, and I can sympathize with your plight. Unwed and pregnant must
weigh heavy on your mind, but alas, I can noot help you, nor can any of me men.
Good day, Miss Joyce.”
She stomped
her sore foot and grimaced. “For the last time, I am not expecting!”
Her shout
brought the attentions of his workers. Seventeen sets of eyes peered down at
her, and the heat rose to her cheeks.
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