Read Online Sweet Annie by Cheryl St.john - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cheryl St.john
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head.
The cousins greeted her
quietly.
Annie seated herself in her
chair and Charmaine handed the librarian a few books they were returning.
Annie
rolled herself across the spacious open floor toward one of the sections of
wooden shelving.
She had been spending an
hour a day, in twenty-minute intervals, standing and walking in the privacy of
her room. So far, the practice had had no ill effects aside from a few sore
muscles.
Today
it gave her a feeling of accomplishment and independence to leave her chair at
the end of a row of shelves and inch along the books, examining spines,
reaching tomes on the top shelves.
"Goodness,
Annie, look at you!" Charmaine said. The building was large and open, with
wooden walls and ceiling, and sound carried clear to the desk.
Annie
placed her finger to her lips to silence her. "I've been practicing,"
she confessed.
"Standing?"
"Walking."
“What does your mother
think?''
"She doesn't know.
Don't tell her, please."
"You
know I won't. I think it's positively wonderful." After voicing her
approval, she moved away, browsing though the books.
Annie
found a few she wanted to borrow, placed them on her chair and began another
search. Many she'd read before, but she didn't mind reading them again. Some
were beloved old friends she visited often. Locating a favorite she'd borrowed
half a dozen times, she opened it and scanned the familiar worn pages.
She'd
become engrossed in the scene in which a young boy who has raised a colt is
forced to sell him when a step behind her caught her attention. The back of her
neck prickled.
"Hello,
Annie." The greeting was whispered so near her ear that warm breath
touched her neck and scattered shivers across her shoulders. The masculine
voice was unmistakable.
She
turned and found Luke standing so close, her skirts brushed his pant legs. He
smiled, deep crevices slashing his cheeks and making him appear rakishly
handsome.
Annie
pressed the book to her pounding chest. "Luke," she whispered.
A
faded blue shirt encased his broad chest, open at the throat, and he wore a
pair of dark trousers. "Afternoon," he said softly.
A
tremor of excitement passed through her. She glanced behind him, seeing no one.
"What are you doing here?"
"I
saw the Renlows' horse and Burt told me you and your cousin came over
here."
And
he'd come away from his business to see her? His interest flattered her like
nothing else could. Her neck and cheeks warmed.
"Shouldn't
I have come?" he asked, doubt etching his brow.
"I—I'm
just surprised," she managed. "I'm glad you came."
"And
I'm surprised to see you standing."
"I've
been practicing," she told him.
"Any
problems?''
She
shook her head. "A few aches in the unused muscles, but it's getting
better—and easier. I can stand for longer periods of time now."
"I'm proud of
you."
Everything
inside her warmed at those words, but the sentiment embarrassed her, too.
"Nothing most people don't take for granted."
"Most people don't
have the same challenge."
She smiled, his
appreciation for her small achievement a joy she felt all the way to her toes.
“I guess not."
"Maybe you could stay
in town for supper?"
"Aunt Vera is
expecting us back. She would worry."
His expression fell.
"Oh."
“But
tomorrow. We could plan it for tomorrow and tell her ahead of time."
He
raised a brow as though having second thoughts. "What if someone sees us
and tells Burdell or your parents?"
"Someone
will see us, that's for sure." She thought a moment. "What comes
after that, I don't know."
"Maybe
we shouldn't then. If you're afraid of what will happen."
Annie
studied the concern in his sky-blue eyes, the scar on his lip, weighing her
parents' anger against the pleasure of spending time with him. "I'm only
afraid for you."
"I'm
not afraid," he replied. "I was never afraid except that I thought
they might send you away."
"I'm
a big girl now," she said, a soft declaration, a pronouncement of the
maturity and independence she craved. "Even
The cousins greeted her
quietly.
Annie seated herself in her
chair and Charmaine handed the librarian a few books they were returning.
Annie
rolled herself across the spacious open floor toward one of the sections of
wooden shelving.
She had been spending an
hour a day, in twenty-minute intervals, standing and walking in the privacy of
her room. So far, the practice had had no ill effects aside from a few sore
muscles.
Today
it gave her a feeling of accomplishment and independence to leave her chair at
the end of a row of shelves and inch along the books, examining spines,
reaching tomes on the top shelves.
"Goodness,
Annie, look at you!" Charmaine said. The building was large and open, with
wooden walls and ceiling, and sound carried clear to the desk.
Annie
placed her finger to her lips to silence her. "I've been practicing,"
she confessed.
"Standing?"
"Walking."
“What does your mother
think?''
"She doesn't know.
Don't tell her, please."
"You
know I won't. I think it's positively wonderful." After voicing her
approval, she moved away, browsing though the books.
Annie
found a few she wanted to borrow, placed them on her chair and began another
search. Many she'd read before, but she didn't mind reading them again. Some
were beloved old friends she visited often. Locating a favorite she'd borrowed
half a dozen times, she opened it and scanned the familiar worn pages.
She'd
become engrossed in the scene in which a young boy who has raised a colt is
forced to sell him when a step behind her caught her attention. The back of her
neck prickled.
"Hello,
Annie." The greeting was whispered so near her ear that warm breath
touched her neck and scattered shivers across her shoulders. The masculine
voice was unmistakable.
She
turned and found Luke standing so close, her skirts brushed his pant legs. He
smiled, deep crevices slashing his cheeks and making him appear rakishly
handsome.
Annie
pressed the book to her pounding chest. "Luke," she whispered.
A
faded blue shirt encased his broad chest, open at the throat, and he wore a
pair of dark trousers. "Afternoon," he said softly.
A
tremor of excitement passed through her. She glanced behind him, seeing no one.
"What are you doing here?"
"I
saw the Renlows' horse and Burt told me you and your cousin came over
here."
And
he'd come away from his business to see her? His interest flattered her like
nothing else could. Her neck and cheeks warmed.
"Shouldn't
I have come?" he asked, doubt etching his brow.
"I—I'm
just surprised," she managed. "I'm glad you came."
"And
I'm surprised to see you standing."
"I've
been practicing," she told him.
"Any
problems?''
She
shook her head. "A few aches in the unused muscles, but it's getting
better—and easier. I can stand for longer periods of time now."
"I'm proud of
you."
Everything
inside her warmed at those words, but the sentiment embarrassed her, too.
"Nothing most people don't take for granted."
"Most people don't
have the same challenge."
She smiled, his
appreciation for her small achievement a joy she felt all the way to her toes.
“I guess not."
"Maybe you could stay
in town for supper?"
"Aunt Vera is
expecting us back. She would worry."
His expression fell.
"Oh."
“But
tomorrow. We could plan it for tomorrow and tell her ahead of time."
He
raised a brow as though having second thoughts. "What if someone sees us
and tells Burdell or your parents?"
"Someone
will see us, that's for sure." She thought a moment. "What comes
after that, I don't know."
"Maybe
we shouldn't then. If you're afraid of what will happen."
Annie
studied the concern in his sky-blue eyes, the scar on his lip, weighing her
parents' anger against the pleasure of spending time with him. "I'm only
afraid for you."
"I'm
not afraid," he replied. "I was never afraid except that I thought
they might send you away."
"I'm
a big girl now," she said, a soft declaration, a pronouncement of the
maturity and independence she craved. "Even
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