A Match Made in Texas- By Arlene James Page 0,39

and pulled it open. Pressing it all the way back, she stood against it, her arms folded, while he glowered in confusion. Finally, she pointed to the two-inches-high gold letters affixed to the door. Three-three-zero.

Stephen’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, but then he recovered enough to accuse, “You gave my room number to someone.” She nodded, a tad smugly perhaps. “Who?” Stephen demanded.

For once, Kaylie decided to get back a bit of her own. “Guess you’ll find out when they get here.” With that, she spun and left the room, the door smoothly swinging closed behind her.

“Kaylie!” Stephen yelled, but the door muffled the sound.

Ignoring him, she stepped far enough away that she couldn’t hear. The nerve of the man, jumping to such conclusions, acting as if he owned her! Far worse was the unmistakable thrill that she felt because of it.

Dismayed, she reached out to the Lord of her life.

Father God, why him? Why couldn’t Craig Philem make her heart trip? Or Brooks, even! Anyone else, anyone who could fit into her world. Anyone who shared her beliefs and lifestyle. Anyone her father might approve of. Lord, I don’t understand myself. Surely I’m just feeling sorry for him. Help me put these feelings into perspective. In the name of Jesus, help me.

Linda Shocklea walked by with another nurse, took one look at Kaylie’s face and stopped, nodding at her workmate, who went on her way. “The bear bit you, did he?”

Kaylie sighed. “Let’s just say that I’m giving my patience a breather.”

Linda chuckled. “It’s a pity, isn’t it, that such a good-looking guy is such a grouch?”

“Well,” Kaylie said, feeling unaccountably protective of him, “he’s been through a lot, and he still has a lot to get through.”

“Mmm.” Linda cut a knowing gaze in Kaylie’s direction. “Honey,” she drawled, “a man that handsome, if he was all healed up, I might let him bite me, too.” She grinned and sauntered off, leaving Kaylie alternately gaping and sputtering laughter.

A moment later a male voice softly called her name, prompting Kaylie to turn in the opposite direction. A quartet of male smiles greeted her. As the four drew near, one of them asked, “How’s he doing?”

“See for yourself,” she said brightly, leading the way.

You gave my room number to someone. As if she would ever do anything to hurt him. She only hoped that she wasn’t foolish enough to let herself get hurt.

“You may not remember these guys,” Kaylie said as four young men crowded into the room. “They transported you to the hospital.”

“I remember.” Stephen acknowledged the paramedics with nods.

Having one leg in a cast made it difficult to kick one’s self, but he would have dearly liked to do so. Barring that, he’d have been pleased for the floor to open up and swallow him whole, adjustable bed and all. As it was, he could only smile and shake hands all around. It was bad enough that he’d made a fool of himself over her and the doctors, but he should’ve known that she wouldn’t give his room number to anyone who could or would harm him. To make matters worse, at least one of these fellows, Carter, was a real fan.

“Man, I saw your last shutout. Amazing game! One of the best I’ve ever seen.”

Stephen gladly recapped that game with the guy. It kept him from having to look at Kaylie. Eventually, he sent Carter to the drawer in the beside table where the autographed pucks were stored and saw them handed out.

“My agent’s working on those game passes,” Stephen told them. “I hope a game next season is okay. Playoff seats are just so hard to come by.”

“Oh, hey, I’d rather see you play, anyway,” Carter assured him. The others murmured agreement.

“Not that we’d turn down playoff tickets,” one was quick to add.

Stephen chuckled. “I hear you. I’d sure rather be there than here myself.”

Kaylie stepped in and put an end to the visit at that point. “Better let the patient get some rest, boys.”

He did feel a little ragged, but when she glanced at her watch, he suddenly felt even worse. She was going to leave him here on his own again. It was nothing less than he deserved, of course, but he didn’t like it. Still, he could not let her go without apologizing and at least trying to explain his behavior.

The paramedics dutifully filed out, waving and thanking him for the pucks.

“No, no,” Stephen protested. “Y’all took good care of me. I