The Search The Secrets of Crittenden Cou - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,31

I decided to take some time off and spend it here with you.”

Uncertainty threaded through her. First the hand-holding, now he’d taken time off from the farm? In all the years she’d known him, he’d never willingly done either. “I’m grateful that you stopped by,” she said cautiously.

Why was he here? Why was he really here? She was sure it wasn’t just to spend time with her. No, he seemed like a man on a mission.

Which made her mighty uncomfortable.

“You should be grateful. I had a lot of other chores that I had to push aside in order to pay you a call today.”

She should be grateful? Carefully, she looked for any sign that he might be joking. But no, he was perfectly serious.

Now she was no longer uncomfortable. Not the slightest bit nervous, either.

She was now angry.

“I’ve also been waiting for you to notice me. To notice how serious my regard for you is,” he added, holding her hand tighter. Sounding vaguely disapproving.

She glanced his way. Surely he really was joking?

If he’d shown her any attention, it was because she had asked for it. He’d never offered anything on his own.

She looked at his hand, holding hers. Suddenly, he’d taken a keen interest in her and her attention.

With a wince, she realized he was gripping it so tightly she could feel the slick moisture of his palm.

Studying the set of his strong jaw, Frannie realized he was nervous. Whatever had brought him here had made him uneasy.

In a blink, she turned nervous again.

“I’ve always been grateful for your friendship,” she said. “What is wrong, Micah? Why are you acting so strangely?”

“Friendship?” His brows rose under the black brim of his hat. “I think you know that there’s more than that between us. Quite a bit more.”

Was there? At one time she’d hoped that was the case. But since all that had happened with Perry, and her reaction to Luke, she began to realize that Micah was just . . . convenient. But perhaps he had viewed their disjointed relationship far differently? “More?”

“Our relationship is not like the one you have with the detective,” he said tightly.

“Luke?”

He nodded with a jerk of his head.

Ah. Now she understood. This visit was about Luke. Micah obviously hadn’t taken her friendship with the Englischer in stride.

“Indeed, you are right. It isn’t,” she said, unsure what else to say. She didn’t want to talk about Luke with Micah. Didn’t want to explore feelings she shouldn’t have. Didn’t want to think about a future that was impossible.

Her reality was sitting by her bedside. She needed to remember that.

After a final, gentle squeeze, Micah released her hand and braced both his palms on his knees. Then leaned forward and spoke. “I did something important. I talked to my mother about us, Frannie.”

“You did?” She swallowed hard. She had never particularly cared for Micah’s mother. She was a bossy woman who rarely wanted to listen to Frannie’s opinions. “And what did you say?”

“I told her that I intend for us to marry soon.”

“You told her what?” Oh, surely he was not intending to propose marriage to her here, after all?

And if he was going to, what would she say?

Her earlier conversation with her roommate played through her head. Frannie needed time to think about all this. Micah’s sudden, smothering attention. His intentions.

This was not the right time. Or place. But how could she possibly tell him so, especially with the earnest look he wore? After all, it was the man who took charge of things like this.

“It is time I set things in motion, don’tcha think? I believe a small wedding would be best.”

Or . . . perhaps he didn’t feel the need to propose at all? Was he simply assuming her answer would be a yes and the formality wasn’t necessary?

Oh!

If she hadn’t been stuck in the hospital bed, tethered by tubes and electronic cords, she would have kicked him out.

Suspiciously aware of how thin that curtain was between her and her roommate, she sputtered a reply. “Micah, I’m not altogether sure we should be discussing this now.”

“Why not? Mamm said talking to you in the hospital is as good a spot as any.” He grinned. Then winked! “Here, you can’t run away.”

Oh, but this was terrible. Terrible and awkward, too. She had to stop him. Somehow. Some way.

She lowered her voice. “We don’t have much privacy here.”

He puffed up his chest. “We don’t need much privacy. I mean, I do not. There is nothing on