Читать книгу Hannah Gets A Husband - Julianna Morris, Julianna Morris - Страница 9

Bong, bong, bong.

The bell in the tiny church tower rang three times, announcing the end of the wedding ceremony.

Hannah Liggett leaned her elbows on the cash register and sighed. Those bongs meant it was official—she was the last single woman in Quicksilver, Alaska.

Single, as in spinster.

Ten Penny Alice was marrying Joe Dobkins—bride and groom were both in their nineties. Hannah didn’t know how Ten Penny had gotten her name, but she suspected it had something to do with the bawdy house Ten Penny once owned.

“I wonder if the bride wore white?” Hannah mused aloud, an aching sensation tugging at her heart. It wasn’t envy, but she couldn’t help wondering if she’d ever fall in love and get married herself. Of course, she’d been too busy raising her brothers to look for a husband, but that didn’t mean she’d stopped thinking about it.

“Don’t feel s’bad,” called Toby Myers, one of the old sourdoughs who always hung around the restaurant. “I’ll marry up with ya.”

Hannah lifted the coffeepot and walked to his table. “I don’t know about that. You know what they say about getting married in Alaska…the odds are good, but the goods are odd.”

He chuckled as she poured another cup of coffee. It wasn’t the strong stuff he really wanted—Toby’s doctor had ordered absolutely no caffeine, so she was secretly substituting decaf. So far, he hadn’t noticed the difference.

The bell over the door jangled and Hannah glanced up, surprised. She didn’t expect the guests to arrive for another few minutes; when the bride and groom were ninety-two and ninety-five respectively, it took a while to get places.

“Hi, Hannah. Remember me?” a man asked, shifting the child he held in his arms.

Hannah stepped closer so the newcomer wasn’t silhouetted against the late-afternoon light. Her eyes opened wider.

It was Ross McCoy, but not the lanky teenager who’d left Quicksilver nearly seventeen years ago. This Ross was six foot two, with broad shoulders and a trim, powerful body that oozed masculine sensuality. Potent. Small lines fanned the corners of his deep blue eyes, topped by black hair with a few glints of silver.

Shocked by the feminine awareness running through her body, she stared at the child he carried, then at Ross again. They had the same hair and eyes, the same strong chin and direct way of looking at you. They looked so much alike there was no doubt they were father and son.

“Have I changed that much?” Ross murmured.

“Ross?” Hannah whispered.

“Yup.” He grinned his slow, warm grin. “Well, Honeycomb? Where’s that hug you always used to give me?”

The familiar nickname and smile made Hannah’s eyes swim with unaccustomed tears. “I…uh….” She shrugged and sniffed in embarrassment.

Ross put his son down on a chair and closed the distance between them. He lifted his hand and stroked a damp track on her cheek. “Hey, what’s all this? You don’t cry.”

“Nothing. I’m just glad to see you.”

“Same here, Honeycomb.”

He gave her a quick, tight hug and Hannah drew an unsteady breath. Some things might have changed, but she was still “Honeycomb” to Ross, the nickname he’d given her when they’d gleefully found an old tree filled with bees and honey, only to be chased away by a territorial bear.

It was just like him to show up when she was a little lost and at odds with herself during this wedding excitement. Despite the years she’d spent riding herd on six younger brothers, she still dreamed of becoming a mother. Of course, that required a husband, and men didn’t seem to find her particularly desirable.

Jeez, that was depressing—even more depressing than never having a family of her own. Most of the time Hannah tried not to think about the lack of romance in her life, but the fuss over Ten Penny finally getting married was a constant reminder.

“Think I’ll be headin’ out,” said Toby.

Hannah blinked and motioned to the pink streamers adorning the room. “Aren’t you staying for the party, Toby? There’s lots of food.”

“Nope…gotta get going. I’m organizin’ the chivaree for Joe and Ten Penny, so I need to get ever’thing fixed up for it.” The door closed behind him, leaving an overwhelming silence.

Ross lifted his eyebrows. “A chivaree?”

Hannah tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged again. Ordinarily she didn’t pay much attention to her appearance, yet this was one day she wished she could have worn something besides her usual jeans and shirt. The last time Ross had seen her, she’d been a flat-chested fifteen-year-old, trying to make her youngest brother eat green peas without spitting them in her hair. Maybe she didn’t have any illusions about being beautiful, but it would have been nice to look her best.

“You probably don’t remember,” she murmured. “It’s an old custom. The men ‘serenade’ the bride and groom on their wedding night, making noise and keeping them from…er, getting amorous.”

“I remember, but Joe and Ten Penny are pretty old for that sort of thing.”

“It’s all in fun, and Ten Penny has been hankering after a chivaree for a long time,” Hannah said, remembering how excited the elder woman had been about her impending nuptials.

“Hmm…I didn’t think she was the romantic type.”

Every woman is the romantic type, you dope, Hannah thought, unaccountably annoyed. Yet it really wasn’t Ross’s fault. Everyone in town had teased her about being the last spinster in Quicksilver, thinking she was too practical, too sensible to mind the good-natured ribbing. Sometimes it felt like Sensible Hannah was tattooed across her forehead.

Sensible. Hah.

Pressing her lips together, she hurried to Toby’s table to clean it up before the wedding guests arrived, mostly to give herself something to do. She wanted to ask about the little boy Ross had brought with him, but figured Ross would explain in his own good time.

Crouching to retrieve a dropped spoon, she caught the child’s eye and smiled. The youngster regarded her gravely, then scooted off his chair to tug on his father’s pant leg. The ache around Hannah’s heart deepened. Everyone had moved on with their lives, and here she was, in the same old place she’d always been.

“Up, Papa.”

“All right, Jamie.”

Ross bent and lifted his son into his arms again. He’d fought so hard to get custody of Jamie, sometimes he was afraid to let go.

Jamie put his thumb in his mouth and stared at Hannah. Ross didn’t blame him, he could hardly keep from staring himself. She’d changed…a lot. He remembered a girl with a flyaway blond hair and a gamin face, but that girl had turned into a woman with expressive silver-green eyes and a shapely body.

Very shapely.

Get a grip, Ross ordered, trying to quell a flash of heat in his groin. That wasn’t why he’d returned to Quicksilver. He’d returned because Hannah was a good friend and he needed her help. When it came right down to it, she was the only woman he really trusted.

Woman. He grinned at the thought.

Hannah hadn’t quite been a woman when he’d left Quicksilver, but it didn’t matter; they’d gotten into too much trouble together to ever be strangers. Hours of writing “I’ll never build a snowman on the teacher’s chair again” were a guarantee of lifelong friendship.

“What are you smirking about?” Hannah asked.

“Our infamous snowman. How many times did we have to write that sentence?”

“A thousand times each. My hand developed a permanent crimp, and it was all your idea to do it.”

Ross shook his head. “Not quite. You were the one who suggested we dye the snow green and use a witch’s cap. That was the part Mrs. Haggerty hated the worst.”

“All right, we were both responsible.” Hannah laughed, her cheeks turning pink. He loved it; she was probably the only woman left on the planet unspoiled enough to blush.

After his disastrous marriage he’d vowed never to be trapped again, but getting Jamie had changed everything. He needed a wife to strengthen his legal position in case of another custody battle, and his son needed a mother. Hannah was the solution to both problems.

He’d thought it out very carefully. Hannah had grown up in Alaska and she was great with kids. And she was the loyal type—at just fourteen she’d taken over caring for the family when her mother died in childbirth. He knew she’d marry him if she understood how important it was; they’d always stuck together.

Hannah came closer, her attention focused on Jamie. “Hello. My name is Hannah. Who are you?”

“Jamie. I’m four.” He held up all five of his fingers.

She tucked his thumb down, then touched the remaining fingers one by one. “This many is four. One, two, three, four. See?”

He regarded his hand for a solemn second. In fact, he was entirely too solemn and grave for a child his age, something that could be blamed on his flighty mother. Ross’s mouth tightened with determination; Jamie deserved to have Hannah as his mother, and that’s exactly what his son was going to get.

“Okay,” Jamie agreed. “Can I have some ice cream?”

“May I,” Ross corrected.

Jamie sighed heavily. “Okay. Can Papa have some, too?”

An exasperated expression crossed his father’s face, but Hannah smiled. After raising six brothers, she could handle little boys. A sense of humor helped, along with a huge tolerance for noise and cheerful chaos.

“Of course he can have some ice cream. I know your papa likes strawberry the best, but what’s your favorite?”

“V’nilla.” Jamie leaned forward and held out his arms. With an ease born of long practice, Hannah shifted the youngster onto her hip.

“I need to talk to you, Hannah,” said Ross, following them to a corner table. “It’s important.”

For some reason her stomach fluttered, though she couldn’t imagine why. They’d talked about everything when they were kids; why should it be different now? The fact that Ross had turned into a heart-stopping hunk didn’t mean anything.

And don’t forget Jamie.

Right.

Little boys had mothers, which meant there was a good chance Ross was married. So it would be silly to be attracted to an old friend, and even sillier to imagine he was attracted to her. It was just this wedding stuff, getting her stirred up and confused. Just the same, it would be nice to have someone really want her.

“Hannah?”

“Uhh…all right. Except I’d better get that ice cream first. Isn’t that right, Jamie? A nice big bowl.”

Jamie’s eyes brightened. “V’nilla.”

“And strawberry for your papa. We’ll be right back, Ross.”

Ross sat back and watched Hannah disappear into the restaurant kitchen with his son. “I heard Deke is working on a fishing boat,” he called. “He’s the youngest, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” Her voice was muffled. “He took off a couple of months ago to earn money for college. Deke is just like you. He couldn’t wait to get away.”

Ross shifted in the old ladder-back chair. Yeah, he’d been anxious to leave Quicksilver. It was a dusty little town, forgotten by the modern world and lumbering toward extinction. The principal entertainments were hunting, drinking and watching moss grow on trees.

On the other hand, Hannah had never seemed to mind living in Quicksilver. She’d listened patiently when he talked about escaping, but her family was the center of her world, not exotic travel and different places. And he had to admit, if he’d been part of the Liggett clan he might have felt the same. They weren’t perfect, but they were nice people.

“Here we go,” Hannah said a moment later. She held a tray in one hand and led Jamie with the other.

“Thanks.” Ross settled his son on his lap and tucked a napkin under his chin. It was awkward. Jamie had only been living with him for a few weeks and they were still adjusting to each other.

Just then the sound of excited, happy people floated into the restaurant and Hannah grinned. “That’s the wedding party coming over from the church.”

“I couldn’t believe it when your dad said Ten Penny was getting married.”

She gave him a strange look. “When did you talk to my father?”

“A few days ago.”

Hannah straightened, still watching Ross with a question in her eyes. She didn’t like hearing that he’d talked to her dad, especially since her father had been walking around all week like a cat who’d stolen the cream. Anyway, if Ross had something to talk to her about, why wouldn’t he call her directly?

“Danged if this isn’t something,” cried Ten Penny as she tottered through the door. “I’m finally a missus!” Everyone else was dressed in the usual jeans and shirts, but Ten Penny wore a purple feather boa around her neck and a beaded dress of unknown vintage.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Dobkins,” Hannah said, giving Ten Penny a hug. “You look beautiful.” And she meant it. Maybe Ten Penny had a few wrinkles and a questionable reputation in the murky past, but none of that mattered today. She was beautiful…a survivor, a monument to stubborn determination in the face of great odds.

“You sure made it all look purty in here,” said Ten Penny. “All them flowers and ribbons and such. It’s a real weddin’ party. Thanks, darlin’.”

“I enjoyed doing it,” Hannah assured her. “Now go sit down and have a good time.”

The combination bar and restaurant wasn’t very big, and with half the town crowded inside, the noise level skyrocketed. In the distant past Ten Penny had heard about “petit fours” and “little sandwiches without crusts,” so she’d asked Hannah to make some of those “fancy goo-gaws” for her big day. Fortunately Hannah had also made red-hot chili and several sheet cakes—Quicksilver wasn’t ready for finger food.

When she got the chance, Hannah pulled her father to one side. “What’s going on with Ross McCoy? You never said anything about talking to him.”

“Oh? You know he calls the bar every now and then—more before his pa died, of course. The McCoys never had a phone. He always asks about you, too.”

Hannah ignored the pleasure her father’s last statement gave her. “Yes, but why is he here?”

“You’ll have to ask Ross. My, that chocolate cake looks good. I’d better get over there before it’s all gone.”

“Wily old fox,” Hannah muttered.

“Whatever you say, dear. By the way, did I mention Ross is divorced?”

With that last remark, Edgar Liggett made a beeline for the food table, leaving Hannah with narrowed eyes and a tapping foot. She loved her father, but he had an annoying ability to duck out of uncomfortable situations.

And what did he mean about Ross being divorced? With Edgar it could be anything from idle conversation to a suggestion she seduce the guy. Hannah froze at the thought, then shook her head. The idea had a certain appeal, but she didn’t have any skills in the seduction department and she wouldn’t want to hurt her friendship with Ross, anyway. It was funny, but even after all these years, she still considered him her best friend. If her life had gone a little differently, they might have kept in touch. He’d done better than she had—at least he’d written her a few letters.

As for what Ross wanted…she didn’t know what to think. He sat in the corner, calmly eating ice cream with his son and chatting with the partygoers as though he’d never left Quicksilver. Feeling foolish, Hannah headed over to his table on the pretext of bringing Jamie a glass of milk.

“Thanks.” Ross smiled and motioned to the chair next to him. “Can you take a break?”

“Sure. You wanted to talk, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” He pushed the last of his ice cream away. “I understand you never got married.”

“Thanks, rub it in,” Hannah muttered.

He looked surprised. “I didn’t mean anything.”

“Of course not.”

No longer curious, she grabbed his bowl and headed for the kitchen. So much for thinking Ross might understand how she felt. It was different for men; they could father babies until they were old and gray. They didn’t have to worry about biological clocks, which probably explained why they didn’t obsess about falling in love nearly so much as the female half of the species.

“Hannah…”

“What?” she asked.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Hannah sighed. She was being overly sensitive, but that didn’t change the way she felt. “Forget it.” But he stood there waiting and she shrugged. “It’s just that I’ve been teased a lot about Ten Penny’s wedding—you know, about it making me the last spinster. I thought you were getting into the fun, as well.”

Genuine shock registered on his face. “I’d never do that, Hannah. I only brought it up because—”

“Honey, that punch could use some more kick,” called Ten Penny into the kitchen. “But yer daddy’s fresh out of gin at the bar and he can’t find his keys to the storeroom.”

Hannah leaned her forehead against the worn wood of a cabinet for a second. A kick. That’s all she needed—a bunch of elderly revelers getting punch drunk. “Okay, I’ll get it.”

She hurried out again, at the same time checking on Jamie. Despite her muddled emotions, Hannah smiled. Ross had left the boy with three older women, who clucked over him like a bunch of broody hens. There weren’t many children in Quicksilver; the town didn’t have any opportunities for young families, so most of them migrated to larger communities like Anchorage or Fairbanks.

Ross caught her arm. “Let’s sneak out for a little while.”

“I’m busy.” Hannah pulled away, but he followed her to the storeroom. Honestly, he’d waited over seventeen years to come see her, and now he acted like the building was on fire and he didn’t have a moment to waste.

“I am very, very serious. Could we please go somewhere private?” he asked.

Hannah rolled her eyes. “I have a wedding reception to take care of, Ross. Why don’t you roll up your sleeves and help me? There’s plenty of time. We can talk later.”

“Well, I—”

“Honey, where’s that gin?” call Ten Penny.

“Coming.”

Sighing again, Hannah hunted up a bottle and pushed past Ross. The small room felt even smaller with him filling up the entrance, his eyes dark and intent as they watched her. It was uncomfortable, feeling so aware of him as a man.

“Here you go.”

She handed the bottle to Ten Penny, who proceeded to empty it into the bowl. Hannah grimaced as the scent of gin assailed her senses; ordinarily she left serving spirits to her father, but this was a special occasion.

“That’s better, darlin’,” said Ten Penny, smacking her lips over the fortified punch. She handed a cup to her groom, who nodded with equal approval.

“That’s fine,” Joe crowed. “Have some, too, Hannah girl. “It’ll put hair on yer chest.”

His bride shook a finger at him. “Hush, Joe. Hannah don’t need no hair on her chest. Ain’t that right, Ross?” she called. “You been looking plenty at Hannah’s chest. It looks just dandy, don’t it?”

“Uh…” Ross choked, and heat crept up his neck. “Her chest is fine.”

Edgar Liggett stood across the room, glaring with parental indignation, and Ross whistled beneath his breath. Proposing to Hannah was a whole lot more complicated than he’d thought it would be. As for Hannah…He turned and saw her studying him with a strained expression on her face.

Great. Thanks to Joe and Ten Penny she probably thought he’d turned into a sex fiend over the years, and it wasn’t true. He was a normal man who enjoyed looking at a woman’s body; Hannah had grown up very nicely and he appreciated that fact.

“Hannah?” called someone else from across the room. “You got any more coffee?”

“And sugar,” added another voice.

Ross gritted his teeth. It seemed as if everyone in Quicksilver had a claim on Hannah’s time and attention, and a vague sense of guilt nagged at him. Was he being fair, hoping to get her sympathy with Jamie? Or would she be grateful for the chance to finally get away from Quicksilver?

His frustration built as he kept trying to get her alone. “Sit down,” he said when she scooted past him for the seventh time.

She gave him a distracted smile. “After a bit.”

It was the last straw. “Hannah Liggett,” he roared. “I want to propose! So, will you or won’t you marry me?” Ross regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but it was too late and he was too frazzled to care.

Except for an excited titter next to the food table, the room fell silent.

Hannah turned white and stared at him. “What?”

He loosened the collar around his neck. “I…uh, asked you to marry me.”

“That’s what I thought.” Turning, she headed straight for the door of the restaurant. Ross thought there were tears in her eyes and he swore under his breath.

“Watch Jamie for a minute, okay?” he asked Hannah’s father before heading out the door himself.

If there was one thing he hated, it was seeing Hannah cry. She’d always been so brave when they were growing up, taking her lumps and smiling through everything. There was only one other time he’d seen her really crying, and he still remembered the horrid feeling it gave him.

More from instinct than memory, he found her in the small copse of trees where she’d always gone to be alone. Ross sighed at the sight of her standing there, her hands clenched into fists.

“Ah, Hannah. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Her chin lifted and he saw she wasn’t upset—she was furious. “How could you say something like that in front of everyone? Do you enjoy making a fool out of me?”

“But I do want to marry you.”

Hannah wanted to kick him. He didn’t get it at all. It couldn’t have been more obvious to the entire town that Ross didn’t have any romantic feelings for her. They were probably having a rib-splitting chuckle over the whole thing.

“Jamie needs a mother,” Ross continued quietly. “And you’re the only woman I could ever trust him with.”

She ground her teeth. Ross wanted to marry reliable old Hannah—cook, baby-sitter and all-around good sport. She’d moaned about being the last single woman in Quicksilver, but this wasn’t what she’d had in mind to correct the matter. Jeez, she felt so stupid for getting worked up about Ross; he didn’t have any interest in her, not as a woman.

“You should wait to fall in love,” she muttered. “That’ll be best for Jamie.”

Ross studied her, his hands thrust in his pockets. “I was in love with my first wife and it was a disaster. But this would be great—two friends getting married. Don’t you see how perfect it is? We always backed each other up when things got bad. And friendship is a much better basis for marriage than some fleeting emotion based mostly on lust.”

Hannah wanted to scream “no.” No she wouldn’t marry him. And no, love meant more than just lust. Yet she couldn’t help remembering Jamie’s solemn, almost worried face; her pride wasn’t the only thing to consider. And Ross obviously valued their friendship, so it wasn’t like he didn’t care about her. In a way he’d paid her a huge compliment.

“Maybe I could be your housekeeper,” she suggested.

“No.” Ross shook his head. “My ex-wife signed over custody for a large monetary settlement, but she’s already making noises about getting Jamie back. I need a wife and a stable family life so any judge in the world will agree that Jamie belongs in Alaska with me. And I need to do it fast, Honeycomb…before she has a chance to file any papers with the court. It’ll look better.”

“I don’t understand,” Hannah murmured, still getting a rush of pleasure that he remembered her old nickname. “If she signed over custody, then how can she do anything?”

He sighed heavily. “According to my lawyer, when it comes to kids and the legal system, you never know what could happen. Besides, Jamie needs to feel secure. I want him to have a real mother.”

Hannah pressed her hand to her throat, feeling the familiar, longing ache. A real mother.

She loved her brothers, but she wasn’t their mother; now Ross was offering her a dream come true. It had felt so right, talking to Jamie and holding him…and it wasn’t like men were hanging around, begging her to marry them. This could be her last chance. Should she settle for part of what she wanted, rather than risk not getting anything at all?

But marrying Ross? Hannah swallowed.

Just how married did he expect them to be? Married as in really married, or married as in separate bedrooms? She peeked at him from beneath her lashes, but didn’t know how to ask. Of course, she doubted he expected anything physical. They were friends, not lovers. He’d made that very clear.

“So…for how long were you thinking we’d be married? A year or two?”

“At least till Jamie is eighteen,” he said decisively. “He needs someone he knows will always be there for him. And you never know, we might really like it. I could see us staying together, can’t you?”

Oh, sure, Hannah thought wryly. A nice platonic little marriage—every woman’s lifelong dream.

“Think about it,” Ross urged. “I know I should have handled things differently, but this is your chance to leave Quicksilver. We’d live down on the Kenai Peninsula, but you could go to Anchorage whenever you like. I’m a partner in an air transit business—I can give you a good life.”

Once again Hannah’s foot itched to kick him. Honestly, the man had developed a genuine talent for making her angry. Not that it was anything new. They may have been buddies, but they’d fought like cats and dogs when they were kids. Why should anything be different now?

“My big chance, huh? Do you think I’d marry you for that?”

He sighed. “Of course not. I just wanted to reassure you that…well, that I’m—”

“A good provider?” she asked, a little too sweetly.

“If you want to put it that way. I couldn’t blame you for wondering what you’d get out of the arrangement.”

Get out of the arrangement?

All at once Hannah realized there was a part of Ross she no longer knew…the part that had gotten cynical. More confused than ever, she stared at the Sitka spruce trees surrounding them. A long time ago Ross had found her here, crying after her mother’s funeral. He’d held her and comforted her, though he’d hardly said a word.

Where was that Ross? The tall, strong boy who understood her grief more than anyone else? She might have been comfortable marrying the boy she’d once known, but he’d gone and turned into a sexy hunk who didn’t believe in love.

“Please…I didn’t mean to hurt you, Hannah. You’re very special to me. You always have been.”

She tapped her fingers on her arm. “I suppose you thought I’d be thrilled to get a proposal from anyone.”

Ross winced, realizing how badly he’d handled things. How could he make her understand? When he’d finally gotten Jamie and realized his son needed a mother as well as a father, the woman he’d instantly thought of was Hannah Liggett.

Hell, as far as he was concerned, there wasn’t any other choice. Hannah was sweet and generous and loyal to a fault with her friends and family. She was the perfect mother for his son. And to be honest, having her in his life again wouldn’t be bad for him, either.

“I wasn’t implying anything of the sort,” he said, carefully picking his words.

“Cut it out,” Hannah snapped. “You claim you didn’t mean to embarrass me, but what did you expect? Everyone knows we haven’t been seeing each other. I’ll bet they’re still laughing at the grand joke.”

“Marrying me isn’t a joke.”

“It is when you’re the last single woman in town. It is when the proposal is yelled out during a wedding reception where the ninety-two-year-old bride managed to get a husband ahead of you!”

Ross groaned. No wonder Hannah wanted to crown him; in her shoes he would have been furious too.

“Look, Hannah, I think you’re terrific—that’s why I’m here. I’ll tell everyone I’ve always been in love with you, and that I got carried away by the moment. I can be very convincing. Heck, they’re halfway convinced already—when Ten Penny said that stuff about me looking at your chest, your father looked like he wanted to geld me with a kitchen knife.”

Hannah narrowed her eyes. Bringing up the comments about her “chest” wasn’t something she appreciated. He’d described her chest as “fine.” Fine was one of those words like “interesting.” You said it when you didn’t know what else to say.

Fine.

Yuck.

“Huh. Trust me, Dad isn’t the protective type. Please, just go away and leave me alone. I need to think.”

“No.” He barked the order out and Hannah glared.

“I can be alone if I want. We’re not married yet…and I doubt we’ll ever be married,” she added darkly.

“Don’t say that. I sincerely, abjectly apologize for embarrassing you.”

“Stow it.” Hannah stepped back and abruptly went flying, her foot caught in a rabbit hole. A stab of pain shot through her ankle as she hit the ground.

“Hannah! Are you okay? No, stay down. Let me check you first.”

Ross’s hand held her gently in place, when all she wanted was to crawl in that dratted hole. A woman could only take so much humiliation in one day, and she’d reached her absolute limit.

“I’m all right. Leave me alone.”

Ignoring the protest, he slid his fingers over her ribs, leaving a trail of heat that made it even harder to breathe. His knuckles lightly brushed the underside of her breasts and Hannah’s heart lodged in her throat.

Lord, it wasn’t fair.

Ross was practically caressing her and he looked about as stimulated as a sleeping walrus. The tumble hadn’t done her any serious physical damage, but at the moment, her feminine ego was on the critical list.