The Search The Secrets of Crittenden Cou - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,17
eye. “Micah.”
“Jah.” A satisfied smirk appeared.
“How long have you been here?”
“I’ve been sittin’ here an hour. Watching you sleep.”
Watching her sleep? In a snap, her grogginess disappeared. She hastily double-checked to make sure her sheet was pulled up to her chin, and wished he’d left her asleep. Why was he here? Why had he woken her up? “Seeing you—it is most unexpected,” she mumbled, her throat dry and scratchy.
“Unexpected” was something of an understatement. For the last month or so, Micah had been making himself terribly scarce. She’d seen him only once or twice.
Under his straw hat, the man who’d courted her off and on for most of her life stared right back. “My being here shouldn’t be much of a surprise. I came as soon as I heard about your accident.” He paused. “I wanted to be here when you woke up.” His satisfied smile grew. “And I was.”
Indeed, he was! . . . And, well, he had certainly done his best to make sure she woke up.
Over and over he’d said her name, loud and clear. Almost as if he’d been sitting across the room instead of right by her side. It had been the exact opposite of a certain Englischer detective’s husky baritone.
She needed to remember what a good catch Micah was. After what happened with Perry, and her unfortunate attraction to the detective, she needed to remember where her attention should really be focused. She summoned a smile. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Someone needed to be here, don’tcha think? Can’t have you sitting here alone.”
His words were everything she should want to hear. But they felt the same as hearing recorded messages played at regular intervals around the hospital halls. Canned, monotone, meaningless, insincere. “Hmmm.”
Micah reached for her hand, saw the bandages wrapped around her palms, then awkwardly folded his hands together on his lap. After a moment, he exhaled.
He was waiting for her to make the next move.
That was how it had always been. Frannie was the leader in their relationship. When they were courting, he never approached her until she smiled his way. He didn’t take her walking or driving unless she mentioned that she wanted to. He didn’t call on her without an invitation. And he rarely conversed on any topic that she hadn’t initiated.
So now, here they were.
If there was ever a time she needed him to step up, to take control, this was it. She was scared, worried, hurt.
It shouldn’t be up to her to ask him to comfort her. He should want to comfort her.
And him, sitting here exhaling? Well, it didn’t comfort her one bit.
And though he had taken the initiative to visit, he wasn’t prepared to offer her anything else.
Same as always.
As covertly as she dared, she glanced his way. He continued to stare at her, his light brown eyes full of want and expectation. Much like a well-trained spaniel awaiting the next command.
Being with Micah was terribly exhausting.
On the other side of the room, her roommate flicked channels on the television set. A nurse came in and spoke to her. A cell phone rang.
Frannie and Micah sat in silence.
“Tell me about the farm,” she said at last, unable to take the tense silence. Unable to bear the weight of his expectations. “What is new?”
He relaxed. “Well, wouldn’t you know it? Gretta had her kids.”
“Your goat had babies?” She had a special fondness for Gretta. “I bet they are wunderbaar!”
“Indeed, they are. I reckon they are the cutest kids in the county,” he pronounced, sounding like a proud papa. “Frannie, when you get out of here, I’ll have to take you to our barn to see them.” He scratched his head. “That is, if you would care to visit.”
Finally! He had finally asked her somewhere. “I would enjoy that. How many babies did Gretta have? And what color?”
“Three, white and tan.”
She waited for more details. Waited some more. Then realized he was again expecting her to lead the conversation. But though she liked goats just fine, Frannie couldn’t think of another thing to ask. Her head was throbbing, and the eye that wasn’t bandaged was watering terribly. All she wanted was to sink back into oblivion.
But Micah was now leaning forward in that eager way of his.
His short visit now felt like the longest journey imaginable.
“Um, anything else new?” she asked, grasping at straws.
He frowned, obviously thinking. “Nee,” he finally said.
“Ah.”
As they once again lapsed into silence, she let her thoughts wander. It was no wonder, actually, why