The Search The Secrets of Crittenden Cou - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,52
if you were . . . are you waiting on someone?”
“Not at all,” she said quickly. “Who would I be looking for, anyway?”
“I’m not sure,” she said slowly. “But I’ve never seen you look so tense or worried, Beth.” Racking her brain, she said, “Did something go wrong with the inn that you’re worried about telling me?”
Beth bit her lip. For a moment, Frannie was sure she was going to come clean, to tell her that a sink was clogged, or she’d messed up a bill, or had forgotten a reservation. But instead, Beth stoically remained silent.
“Beth,” she said kindly, “Just so you know . . . if something did happen, I would never get upset. I’ve made a lot of mistakes myself—so many, that I’ve learned that nothing is so bad that it can’t be fixed.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong, Frannie.”
Well, that settled it. The inn might be running smoothly, but everything was certainly not all right. Frannie knew it in her bones as surely as she knew she’d always have a scar near her eye.
However, it looked like Beth was intent on keeping whatever was bothering her a secret, too. And though Frannie couldn’t understand why, and because she owed Beth so much, she attempted to be a little more joyful and carefree than she felt. “Do you know where my hand mirror is?”
“Why?”
“Because I want to see my face, of course.”
Something clicked in Beth’s expression and she stood up abruptly. “I don’t think seeing your face would be a good idea.”
“No one at the hospital would let me see just how bad the damage is. It’s time, I think. Go find me a mirror, would you?”
She hesitated, glancing at the door again warily. Like she was afraid it was about to blow open or something.
“Please, Beth?”
“Oh, jah. Sure.” Moments later, she returned with the mirror and with obvious reluctance, handed it to Frannie.
She held it up and gasped—all her worries and concerns about Beth and her secrets vanishing the moment she saw the great many bandages and black stitches covering her face. And the bruises from the surgery.
“I look like a pincushion!” Frannie exclaimed, unable to temper herself. “A giant pincushion with scary black thread sticking out of it.” She hated to sound so sad and sorry for herself, but the reality was worse than her imaginings.
She hated to feel so vain, but she now was certain that she would never look like her old self again. Forever, she would be marked with red lines—a constant reminder of a silly accident that could have been prevented.
Oh, but she couldn’t believe that Luke had never once told her how ugly she was!
Feelings for him warred. She felt grateful that he’d been so thoughtful to not say a word about her wounds, but dismayed that he’d been able to hide the damage so well.
Or . . . maybe he’d never thought she was pretty in the first place? If that had been the case, then perhaps he hadn’t even seen her cuts as anything to be concerned about.
“Come, now, ” Beth said with a smile. “You look nothing like a pincushion. More like a scary doll that’s been mended too many times.”
Leave it to Beth to pull her out of her pity party and coax a smile! Tilting her head from one side to the other, she had to agree with the doll comparison. Her face did indeed look like it had been chewed on and then hastily repaired. “I suppose I do kind of look like a torn-up doll destined for the rag bin,” she grudgingly said. Casting a look Beth’s way, she felt a small measure of relief. At least her little outburst had shaken off Beth’s worries. “I cannot wait until the stitches are removed. I look horrible.”
“Nonsense. You don’t look horrible. Besides, mended dolls are the favorites, don’t you think? They were in my haus.”
Frannie rolled her eyes. “I’ll remember that, danke.”
“Anytime, friend.”
The sweet tone in Beth’s voice reminded her of just how much she had to thank Beth for. Not only had she called for the ambulance, but she’d cleaned up after accident, and had even given up a few days of her own job to keep things running at the inn.
“How can I ever thank you enough for all you’ve done?”
Beth’s gaze warmed, then the light dimmed as her gaze darted away. “That’s the good thing about us, Frannie. You don’t need to thank me at all. Friends help each other.”