He leaned up on one elbow. “Did you seriously think I was dead? It would take a lot more than a spill to kill me, Miss Ziegler.”
She gathered her skirt around her and scooted away, not sure what kind of mood he was in, but stayed close enough, just in case he needed help getting back on his feet.
His green eyes darted her way and then over to his fallen crutches. “Your mother seemed normal enough when I signed in last night. I wonder if she knows how you treat her guests when she’s not around.”
“I take offense to that remark, Herr Graber. I in no way harmed you. Well...here in the kitchen I didn’t. I was busy cooking your breakfast, and you fell over your own big feet.” He wore scarred, laced-up boots, the kind bikers favored. Maybe that was how he’d hurt himself. A nasty bike spill, and now he was in pain and taking his misery out on her.
“You’re right. I did fall over my own feet. That’s what cripples do.” He leaned heavily on a single crutch and pushed his way to his feet, his face contorting with pain.
“Ach, you’re no cripple,” she said, standing.
“What would you know about being crippled?”
He’d crossed the line. Molly lifted her skirt an inch and showed him the built-up shoe on her right foot. “I think I know a lot about being crippled.”
He flushed, his forehead creased in dismay. He moved to straighten, and groaned.
A wave of sympathy washed over her. He had to be suffering. She’d almost been a teenager when she’d fallen out of a tree and broke her leg, damaging the growth plate. Her pain had been excruciating, but she got around fine now. He looked pale with pain. No wonder his mood was dark. “Can I help—”
He lifted his hand to warn her off. “Nee. I’m perfectly capable of getting myself up. I’ve had plenty of practice.”
He rose and towered over her. He had to be at least six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a slim waist.
The smell of burning eggs reached Molly’s nose. She gasped as she turned and saw smoke rising from the overheated frying pan. “Your eggs! Now look what you’ve made me do.” She pulled the pan off the burner and then turned back, ready to do verbal battle with the wretched man.
Unsteady on his feet, Isaac Graber hobbled across the kitchen floor and stepped out the back door, waving gray smoke out of his face as he shut it behind him with a slam.
Copyright © 2016 by Cheryl Williford
ISBN-13: 9781488007262
Her Rancher Bodyguard
Copyright © 2016 by Brenda Minton
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