Steffie had planned this meeting right down to the minutest detail. She’d worn tight jeans and a checkered shirt, half unbuttoned and tied at her waist.
She remembered Charles repeating that he was anxious to talk to her father. Among other things, he’d told her, he wanted to clear the air about what was happening between him and Steffie.
At the time she’d nearly laughed out loud. Nothing was happening, despite her best efforts.
Steffie remembered again how perfect her timing had been. As she was chatting with him, explaining that she wasn’t sure where her father had gone, she set aside the pitchfork and started up the ladder that led to the loft. At precisely the right moment, she lost her balance, just as she’d planned. After teetering for a second, she dropped into Charles’s arms.
He broke her fall, but the impact of her weight slamming against him had taken them both to the floor, and into the fresh hay. For a moment, neither said a word.
“Are you all right?” He spoke first, his voice low and angry.
Steffie had never been more “all right” in her life. For the first time she was in Charles’s arms and he held on to her as though he never intended to let her go, as though this was exactly where he’d always wanted her to be.
Steffie had gazed down on him and slowly shaken her head. His gaze had gone to her parted lips and then his hands were in her hair and with a groan he’d guided her mouth to his. The kiss was wild, crazily intense. No man had ever kissed her with such hunger or need. Steffie didn’t understand what she was feeling; all she knew was that she wanted Charles more than she’d ever wanted anything. So she’d done what came instinctively. She’d kissed him back with the same searing hunger, until it seemed neither of them would be able to endure the intensity any longer.
Steffie would never forget how he’d rolled away from her, bounding effortlessly to his feet, breathing hard.
At first he’d said nothing. Steffie knew she’d have to speak first. So she’d looked up at him and said what had been on her heart from the moment they’d met. She’d told him simply, honestly, how much she loved him.
Steffie would forever remember what happened next.
Charles had stared down at her in silence for several heart-stopping seconds, and then he’d begun to laugh. Deep belly laughs, as though she’d said the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
She was exactly what he needed, he’d said with a twinge of sarcasm—a lovesick girl running after him. How many times did he have to tell her he wasn’t interested? When he was ready for a woman in his life, he wanted exactly that, a woman, not a child. Especially not one as immature as she was.
He’d said more, but by then Steffie was running toward the house, tears streaking her face. The sound of his laughter had followed her, taunting her, ridiculing her.
“Charles has loved you all these years,” her father said now. He spoke confidently, crashing into her memories and dragging her back to the present. The past was so painful that Steffie was content to leave it behind.
“He’s never loved me,” she whispered through a haze of remembered pain.
“Ah, my sweet Princess,” her father countered. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
Six
“Dad, listen to me.” Steffie stood, turning her head for fear her father would see the tears glistening in her eyes. “Whatever you do, please don’t say anything to Charles about—you know?”
“Being in love with you?”
“That, too,” she pleaded, “but I’m particularly concerned about this marriage thing.”
“That worries you?”
“Yes, Dad, it worries me a great deal.”
“You don’t understand, do you?” he asked softly.
“Oh, Dad, you’re the one who doesn’t understand.”
“Steffie, my Princess, don’t limit yourself to the things you understand,” her father said in the gentlest voice imaginable, “otherwise you’ll miss half of what life has to offer.”
She had to leave, had to escape before she dissolved into an emotional storm of tears. Not until she was in the car, heading she didn’t know where, did she realize her father hadn’t promised one way or the other. He might well blurt everything to Charles.
By the time Steffie had reached Orchard Valley, she’d composed herself. She’d do her errands—pick up dry cleaning, visit the small local library, mail a birthday card to little Mario in Italy—before she drove to Portland. Because it was Saturday, Main Street was busy and she was fortunate to find a parking spot. Not so fortunate as she would have liked, however, since the only available space was directly in front of the newspaper office.
For at least ten minutes, Steffie sat in the family station wagon, considering whether to talk to Charles herself. Should she warn him about her father’s crazy dream, his matchmaking hopes?
She was still debating the issue when she saw him, talking to the girl at the front desk. Her heart gladdened at the mere sight of him. He’d removed his suit jacket and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled halfway up his arms. He was so attractive, so compelling. For several minutes she watched him, mesmerized.
At first glance, Steffie thought Charles might have been talking to Norah, but that was impossible. The resemblance was there, though. This young woman was blonde and exceptionally pretty. Even from inside her car, Steffie could see how she gazed up at Charles with wide, adoring eyes.