Page 43 of Halstead House

He pulled out a length of unopened gauze wrap and tore the packaging before handing it to me. I wrapped it a few times around my foot and tied the end as best as I could, while he watched wordlessly.

“That’ll do, Donkey,” I said, quoting a movie I hadn’t even seen in an uncomfortable attempt at humor. I knew it would fail the minute the words left my mouth. I had never been a joker, and he certainly wouldn’t be the person for me to try it out on.

His eyes flicked briefly to mine and then back to the box as he clicked it closed. “Can you walk on it?” He stood and picked up his box.

I rolled my ankle a bit to make sure the gauze was going to hold before squirming around to use my good foot to stand. I was pleased with how easily I stood up, but when I put some weight on my injured foot to start walking it cried out in protest, causing me to stumble. Lucas’s hand caught my elbow, righting me as I got my balance back. He released my arm almost as quickly as he’d taken it.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. He said nothing.

I played around with a few different ways of holding my foot to keep weight off the cut and finally settled on walking on the side of my foot. It worked if I moved slowly and cautiously. It wasn’t going to be the best mile of my life, that was for sure.

I took a few steps to get into the groove, and when I felt confident, I looked to where Lucas was walking silently next to me. He’d turned off his flashlight, and we were guided along by the moon. I took a few breaths, trying to regain that sense of peace I’d had earlier. This didn’t have to be awkward. We’d gone shopping together that one time, and it seemed like we should be able to act sort of normal-ish around each other at this point. Another breath—engaging the logical brain. This was totally fine. All I had to do was shake off my own issues and just talk to him. I’d need another breath...

He looked over. “You’re breathing pretty hard. Does it hurt too much to walk on?”

I shook my head but then realized he probably couldn’t see the motion. “No. I’ll be okay. Just need to walk slow.” It was going to be the longest mile of my life if he kept walking with me and my cave man brain. “You know, it’s okay if you want to go on ahead.”

He made a low sound “Eliza would kill me.”

“She doesn’t have to know,” I replied.

“I would know.”

Okay, so the flair of integrity was interesting. A gentleman existed inside there. I wasn’t about to come right out and tell him that his presence made me squirm, so I continued hobbling along at a snail’s pace. The longer we walked, the more I stopped caring about the silence. I didn’t have the energy or interest to decipher his thoughts.In fact, maybe he should be the one worrying about what I’m thinking,I told myself. The thought cheered me up.

I stumbled over a camouflaged piece of drift wood and stubbed the toe of my injured foot. Once again, before I could eat sand, Lucas caught me. This time his hand wrapped around my upper arm. His hold was strong but not painful as he waited for me to balance. I couldn’t help but notice the contrast between his warm hand and my chilled skin. My foot was really aching, and I took a few moments to wiggle it around before stepping on it again. Pain, annoying pain. I locked my jaw and forced myself to move again. I was descended from strong people, I had a backbone of iron, I would not be defeated. Blah, blah, blah, this hurt.

Lucas must have noticed my adjusted gait because he slid his hand down to my elbow and helped keep me steady as we moved forward again. Goose flesh broke out on my arm, chilling me further. I didn’t especially want to be in constant contact with him, even though I kind of wanted to be wrapped up in the warmth coming off of him. I casually pulled my arm out of his hold, and he was quick to oblige.

The quiet between us continued until I stumbled a third time. This time Lucas wasn’t fast enough, and I landed on my hands and knees. Stupid sand with its hills and valleys. I remained in that position, head down, hair touching the sand as I took a few deep breaths. I had no idea what had tripped me, but I was ticked about it. Ticked. I wanted to get back to my bedroom and crawl into the soft covers and pretend this entire day away.

His hand lightly touched my shoulder, asking a question without words. I nodded and pushed up into a kneeling position. Mother’s voice came out of nowhere, berating me for my foolish nighttime walk, telling me it was no wonder I was alone in this life. No one would want someone who made such a fool of herself. I shivered in reaction.

“Can you stand?” Lucas interrupted Mother’s lecture.

I looked up at him and nodded again, although I didn’t really believe it. He must have had night vision and seen the look on my face, because he reached a hand down to me this time. I really didn’t want to take it, but I really needed to. So, I did.

My hand slid into his grip and he hauled me to my feet. I reached out my free hand to steady myself and came into contact with his shoulder. The shock of it made me forget the ache in my foot for a split second. I could smell the ocean on his skin from this close, and it caused a shiver to run up my spine.

“Come on,” he said somewhat gruffly.

I dropped my hand from his shoulder and let go of his other hand before I turned to walk again. Relief flooded me at the sight of the mansion around a small bend. I was sweating with the effort of walking somewhat normally on a foot that was throbbing. I wondered if I would need stitches after all.

When we got to the stairs, I retrieved my shoes and Lucas gestured for me to go up first. I did so, leaning heavily on the railing as I climbed. When I reached the top, I turned to see why I hadn’t heard Lucas behind me. He was shining his flashlight on the wooden stairs. Everywhere my injured foot had stepped was a dark patch. I lifted my foot to look at it, and sure enough, I was bleeding through the gauze. I looked back to Lucas as he climbed the stairs.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was still bleeding that much?” he asked as he took them two at a time.

“I didn’t know,” I said, because saying I was too emotionally shuttered to tell someone I was hurt didn’t seem like the right reply.

Something about that answer bothered him greatly, although I had no idea what, and he scowled. His scowl was the last straw. I had gone to the beach to be alone, not to follow him around, cut my foot, and ruin his evening. How had my injury become his annoyance? Not cool.

I glared at him, wishing I could give him what for. I’d perfected the art of telling people off in my mind, angry words I knew I’d never say but that felt good nonetheless. Then it hit me. Just like I’d stuck up for myself with Jonathan, I could stick up for myself with Lucas. An exhilarating sense of freedom, even greater than the one I’d experienced under the veranda with Jonathan, washed over me as our gazes locked. How many times had I gone over something in my mind and wished I’d said this or that, picturing the event happening a different way?

I took a deep breath. “Of course, it’s bleeding. I just walked a mile on it. You didn’t offer to come back and get, I don’t know, a golf cart or something to give me a ride. You weren’t offering up your personal services as a pack mule. What did you want me to do?” I threw him one last look and turned for the mansion.

I was shaking so hard I could hardly walk, even if my foot hadn’t been injured. I’d just done it. Take that, world. I’d said what I was thinking, and while it was liberating, I was definitely about to vomit. Maybe that pack mule comment had been a bit much. I felt dizzy, elated, and so upset with myself for my rudeness, while also patting myself on the back. It was just so much sensation.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I heard him mumble an instant before his tackle box clattered to the ground and he swooped me up into his arms.

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