Let Love Find You

by Johanna Lindsey

  She looked away. “It wasn’t the pain from breaking my leg in the fall. It was bad, that’s all I recall. It wasn’t even the pain when the bones were set, which was so much worse. I remember screaming, but I fainted before the doctor was done.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Eight.”

  “That should just be a vague memory by now. Why isn’t it?”

  “The doctor said I might never walk right again. For four months they wouldn’t let me stand on that leg. For four months I cried myself to sleep every night.”

  “But you don’t have a limp. Why the hell would a doctor tell a child that?”

  “He didn’t. I awoke sooner than they expected and heard the doctor telling my father about that possibility. No one ever said it to me, but I knew, and I lived with such dread for months!”

  “They should have gotten you back on a horse as soon as you mended, instead of letting you build up this unnatural fear.”

  Was that anger in his tone on her behalf? But he didn’t understand. No one was going to push her to do anything that year. They’d been a house in deepest mourning.

  In a small voice she said, “I lost my mother that year. We were all still grieving.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She felt his arms tighten around her as he said it. Did his cheek touch her head briefly? She was surprised by his sympathy. She wouldn’t have expected such a response from a—she couldn’t manage to think of him as a brute just then.

  “But I don’t think my father would have insisted that I get back on a horse anyway,” she said. “It’s not as if riding was something I had to do. I’ve gotten along just fine all these years using coaches—until now.”

  Devin rode back to the grass at the center of the track before he stopped the horse and lowered Amanda carefully to the ground, then dismounted. “A fall from a horse is a rare occurrence, Amanda. And most falls don’t end in broken bones. Really they don’t. But riding isn’t something you need to do now, either.”

  “Yes, it is.” Her chin suddenly shot up. Her stubbornness was kicking in. She’d just been on a horse and hadn’t fainted. Talking about it must indeed have helped. And while she was having that courageous thought, she held out her hand so he could help her up onto the mare.

  Devin just stared at her hand for a moment, then locked eyes with her for several more. But finally he took her hand and drew her in front of him. She would have had to look up to see his face, she was so close, but she kept her eyes averted. She gasped softly as she felt his hands clasp her waist, nearly circling it, his fingers were so long. He just held her like that for a moment. She glanced up, wondering why, only to meet his amber eyes bright with something that took her breath away. Her heart started racing, and it wasn’t from fear!

  “Hook your right knee over the saddle horn immediately,” he said as he lifted her and deposited her in the saddle. “That will anchor you in place.”

  Then he adjusted the stirrup for her left foot and even made sure her boot was firmly in it. But she only felt his doing all that because as she sat alone on the saddle, gripping the saddle horn for dear life, her eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

  He must have noticed because she heard him say, “You want Goswick this much?”

  She gritted out, “I’m doing this . . . to show you . . . I’m not a coward.”

  “Lord love you, Mandy, I knew you weren’t.” He chuckled. “You’re too hot-tempered to be a coward.”

  Her eyes snapped open and she saw him grinning at her. She was tempted to grin back. Good Lord, the man had actually put her at ease. Looking down, she saw the ground wasn’t all that far away either, nothing like what she remembered from when she was a child! And he was still by her side. Even if she inadvertently slid off the horse, he was close enough to catch her.

  Confidence suddenly soaring, she positioned her hips facing forward—she did remember that much, after all, from her old lessons. The mare cooperated by not moving at all.

  “I’ll lead you for a bit.” Devin gathered the mare’s reins.

  Amanda nodded, and as he walked her a full circle around the track, he instructed her, “When you pull back on the reins to stop her, do it slowly. She’s not skittish. She won’t rear up on you if you yank back abruptly, but there’s rarely a need to do that. And remember, you’re using a sidesaddle, so don’t try to put your weight in the single stirrup. Just keep it slow and easy. You don’t want to give Sarah mixed signals either. She needs to know you’re in control. If you’re nervous, she may well sense it, so remember to relax and just enjoy the ride.”

  But when he started to round the track with her a second time, she began to feel like a cosseted child. She recalled Amelia, so happy with her pony. Six years old and no one had been walking her around a track. And she was nicely balanced on the mare, had a comfortable perch, had been assured the horse was too gentle to bolt. She was ready to move on to the next part of the lesson: controlling the animal on her own.

  “Let me try it.”

  He stopped and the horse stopped with him. Before he handed the reins over to her, he teased, “You promise to keep your eyes open?”

  She laughed. “As long as you promise to catch me if I fall.”

  “That will cost you extra.”

  The banter left her smiling as she flicked the reins, but nothing happened. She tried a more aggressive flick and even scooted forward and back in the saddle, as if that might get the mare going. Suddenly it did, a little too much, a bloody trot! Breath caught, heart suddenly pounding in her ears, panic soaring, she had no idea how she managed to stay on the horse with her arse slamming down in the saddle with each bounce. And she couldn’t figure out how to get the mare to change her gait to something slower and smoother.

  She was too busy keeping her seat to even notice she’d made it halfway around the track and was nearly to the half circle at the other end of it. She had to glance back to see where she’d left Devin. He was actually racing after her. Thank God! If she could slow the animal just a little, he could catch up and get the horse to stop!

  She tried pulling back on the reins slowly, as he’d said, but she had to lean too far back, and she was in such a panic, it didn’t occur to her to gather the reins closer to her first. Instead she tried to stand up in the stirrup to tighten the reins. Too late, she forgot she wasn’t supposed to do that!

  Her eyes flared wide. The saddle started to slide to the left off the mare’s back, with her in it! The ground was getting closer, the saddle was completely crooked now, and as she tried to straighten herself, she pushed the saddle even farther to the side.

  It was happening again! History was repeating itself. . . .

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  HER SCREAM WAS STILL ringing in her ears. Hitting the ground had cut it off abruptly when she lost her breath for a moment from the impact. Amanda was afraid to move. She felt the pain, the same pain, in the same place as before. History really did repeat itself, she thought as tears stung her eyes.

  Devin hadn’t been able to reach her in time, but he stirred dust in her face as he came to a skidding halt on his knees beside her. She was terrified he was going to touch her and make the pain worse. She remembered the agony of being moved all those years ago. They’d carried her to the house and it had been so painful she’d fainted, which had been a blessing—until she woke.

  “Are you hurt?” Devin asked frantically. “Tell me where.” But he saw her tears and swore.

  She would probably have blushed, hearing his words, if she didn’t feel like swearing, too. She was still too afraid to move, even to lean up to look at him. And the tears wouldn’t stop because of it. She knew she was going to have to move, but the dread of what it was going to feel like was paralyzing her.

  “Where are you hurt?” he repeated, more insistently this time.

  “My left leg.”

  “Anywhere else?”

  “I don’t know. I’m afraid to find out.”

  “Let
me help you sit up so we—”

  “No!” she shouted. “Don’t touch me!”

  The hysterical note was probably what had him say, “Don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit? We don’t even know if anything is broken. Or is this just because of what happened before? Was there more to that old accident than what you told me? Or are you just being missish about this because you’re a woman?”

  “Don’t you dare—!”

  “That’s better. Anger comes in handy sometimes.”

  He did that deliberately? She realized it had worked, the terrified panic was gone. She wished the pain had gone along with it, though she realized even that was lessening. Of course she hadn’t moved a speck yet. The moment she did, she was sure the pain would overwhelm her again.

  “Are you ready to get out of the cold?”

  “No.” In case he thought she was still overreacting, she added, “I’m not the least bit cold.”

  That wasn’t exactly true. She didn’t usually mind brisk weather like this as long as she was moving about in it. But lying so still, she could feel the bite of the late-autumn weather on her cheeks and gloveless hands. She’d be shivering soon. That might hurt!

  “Very well, we’ll give it a few minutes, but let’s at least get your face out of the dirt.”

  He actually lay down next to her on the ground so he could slip his arm under her head, just enough for her to rest her cheek on his forearm without moving any other part of her body. That was rather gallant of him. And it hadn’t hurt to move her neck. Was she overreacting?

  Amanda could see the concern on his face now. He hadn’t sounded worried, but he looked it, and that just stoked her fear.

  But he said soothingly, “We have to find out where the break is, if there is a break. If you’ll point to where it hurts—”

  “No. I don’t want to know—I’m afraid to know. You don’t understand. This is too similar to my first riding accident.”

  “Are you sure? You said you fainted before. You haven’t fainted here.”

  That was true. This pain wasn’t as bad either, and as long as she didn’t move her left leg, it didn’t hurt. If she’d broken her leg again as she feared, could it just be turning numb?

  “Let me tell you how we’re going to do this,” he continued in that same soothing tone. “I’m going to pick you up and carry you back to the stable. I’m going to be very gentle, and you’re going to grit your teeth and manage not to scream in my ear. We know how brave you are, Mandy. You can get through this. Are you ready?”

  “No,” she whimpered.

  He waited a few minutes before he asked again, “Are you ready now?”

  She was starting to feel a little chilled. She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth as he suggested, waiting for that jolt of pain that would probably make her faint. He didn’t draw out the suspense. He lifted her off the ground quickly. The pain was bad. It flew up her leg and seemed to go right to her head, but that could have been from the quick change of position. She didn’t faint, but the pain was briefly excruciating. She bit back the urge to scream. But Devin was walking at such a steady gait that she barely felt him move, and once again the pain receded. Or was she just too aware of being cradled in his arms to feel anything other than him?

  She felt surrounded by his warmth. He even put his chin to the top of her head to help keep her still, probably denting her little hat. The chill definitely departed! Then the warmth of the stable washed over her. She heard him send a worker after their horses, but in another few moments he entered a small office at the back, keeping the door to the stable open. Amanda saw an old desk, a couple of wooden chairs, and a narrow cot on which he gently laid her. She only groaned slightly when her leg touched the cot.

  He straightened and looked down at her. He smiled slightly and ran a finger across her cheek, then showed it to her. “Dust and tears, not the best mix. Let me get some water. Don’t go anywhere.”

  Was he joking? Where was she going with a broken leg? But the moment he left the room, she leaned up on one elbow and looked down at her legs, which were covered by her riding skirt and her boots. She was getting up the nerve to raise the riding skirt so she could see the damage when Devin came back in with a bucket of water. Another moment and she would have been blushing.

  He set the bucket on the floor beside the cot. “I should get a cabinet for all this stuff, but there isn’t enough room in here for more furniture.”

  Suddenly he was leaning over her to reach the shelf on the wall above the cot. Her eyes flared wide as the length of his body stretched across her view, but he was just getting a small towel off the shelf. Then he sat down next to her. He had barely any room to do so, but she was still afraid to move any part of her lower body, even to make room for him.

  First he untied her little hat and tossed it on his desk, then he dipped an edge of the towel into the water and began to dab at her cheeks with it. Treating her like a child again? “I can do that.”

  “Be still.” He continued washing her face. “You’ll just miss something, then be annoyed at yourself later when you have a look in a mirror.”

  She managed not to snort at him. He was being helpful. Even if she’d rather he not be this helpful, she shouldn’t complain. But he was taking a deuced long time wiping her face, and being so careful it almost felt as if he were caressing, rather than washing, her face. She was starting to feel she wasn’t sure what, but his undivided attention was disturbing her in some way.

  To get her mind off what he was doing, she said, “What stuff?”

  His eyes met hers, but he looked confused. “What?”

  He was so distracted he didn’t recall what he’d just said? “You said—”

  “Oh, just the stuff we keep around for the horses—liniments, tinctures, and such. Occasionally I come in and find a bottle has fallen from the shelf to the cot because the bloody shelf’s so old it’s tilted.”

  Was he trying to make her laugh? “You do realize a simple nail might fix that?”

  “Do I look like a carpenter?”

  No, Amanda thought, you look like a man far too handsome and virile to be sitting so close to me on a bed!

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “THERE,” DEVIN SAID MATTER-OF-FACTLY. “All cleaned up and ready for what you’ve been dreading. I’m going to have to have a look at your leg, Amanda.”

  “No, you don’t have to do anything of the sort,” she said, alarmed. “If you could fetch a doctor, I’d be much obliged.”

  He raised a brow as he stood up. “When we don’t yet know if one is needed? There’s no doctor nearby that I know of. Of course, I’ll send a man to London to fetch one, but let’s see first if there’s a reason to do so. Which leg is it, your left? Actually, just sit up and point to where it hurts. Give me your hand, I’ll help you. If we’re very slow about it, it won’t hurt a’tall.”

  She believed him. She’d leaned up earlier without making the pain flare up. As long as she didn’t move anything below her hips . . .

  Sitting, with her legs stretched out on the cot in front of her, she was able to put her finger directly over the area on her left calf that hurt, without actually touching it.

  He seemed surprised by the location. “Not the ankle? Good, I can’t tell you how much I wasn’t looking forward to your screams if I had to pull your boot off. You probably would have frightened every horse in the stable into breaking out of their stalls.” But then he pretended to look appalled. “Just don’t tell me you wear knee-high boots!”

  She glared up at him, quite aware he was exaggerating. Provoking beneficial anger again? He even smiled to prove it. But as he carefully lifted the hem of her skirt by her left leg, tugging it out from under the leg, she gasped as she felt that horrible pain again.

  “Stop!” she cried.

  He didn’t and soothingly said, “We haven’t even seen it yet, just another moment. . . .”

  Her eyes flared when she saw her swollen calf, but sh
e started whimpering when his fingers approached it. Even to her ears, she sounded like a wounded animal.

  “Shh,” he soothed. “I think I can fix this.”

  She looked horrified by the thought, remembering the last time her bones had been shoved back into place. “You’re going to make that pain worse!”

  “Only briefly, then you’ll be good as new again.”

  Good as new? He was spouting nonsense when she was on the edge of hysteria! She slowly shook her head at him and said in a small voice, “Now might be a good time for one of your miracles, Cupid, because this can’t be fixed without one.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” he said solemnly. “Very well, one miracle coming right up.”

  He went over to his desk. She heard him opening drawers, but she wasn’t watching him, she was still staring in horror at the swollen part of her leg, which she feared was proof that she’d broken a bone again.

  Returning to stand beside the cot again, he handed her a glass filled nearly to the brim with a dark, amber-colored liquid. “Drink this.”

  She frowned. “What sort of miracle is that?”

  “One you’ll thank me for. So drink it. And straight down before you can taste it. It will steady you—and make you laugh off your fears.”

  She didn’t believe a word of that and her look must have said so. Was he trying to give her horse medicine? When she still wouldn’t take the glass, he drank a little more than half of the liquid in it himself to prove it was harmless, then handed her the glass again.

  She took it this time and even followed his instructions, gulped the liquid he’d left in the glass straight down. But she didn’t even have a chance to lower the glass from her lips before she was sputtering and coughing. Tears came to her eyes. Her throat was on fire!

  “That was hard spirits!” she accused shrilly.

  He nodded unrepentantly. “And occasionally they can work wonders—in situations like this.”

  As he said that, he sat on the end of the bed. He had enough room to do so without having to put her feet in his lap. The cot was much longer than any she’d ever before seen. Designed for his long length? Good Lord, she wasn’t actually in his bed, was she?