Poppy grasped her limp arm with her other hand. “I should go
home and take some ibuprofen,” she said, clearly in more
pain than she would ever show.
Pressing his lips into a hard line, he pulled his damp
handkerchief from his damp pocket and handed it to her. She
dabbed at the blood on her forehead. The cut was just a
small scratch, but he’d first seen it when the water mixed
with the blood, and it had looked like a seven-stitch wound.
Luke pushed his fingers into his forehead, trying to rub
away the anger that burned hot right behind his eyes. “Your
feet are bleeding.”
She lifted one foot and had the audacity to grin. “Sharp
rocks. But at least I didn’t ruin a good pair of shoes.”
Something about the cavalier way she talked about her shoes
made him snap like a willow switch. “Poppy Christner,” he
said, making his voice soft and menacing so she knew he
meant business—so she would wipe that aggravatingly stunning
smile off her face and feel a little bit of remorse for what
she’d put him through.
She peered at him as if waiting for him to tease her about
her wet dress or how funny she looked with blood drizzling
down her face.
He was so furious, he thought he might explode. He’d be
hanged if he let her make light of this. He scrubbed his
fingers through his hair. “That was reckless and foolish.”
She finally lost her smile. “Luke, it was a ditch as shallow
as a kiddie pool.”
“And yet your head is bleeding and you can’t move your arm,”
he snarled. “You put yourself in danger. You put my sisters
in danger.”
She lifted her chin, and a hot, raging forest fire flared to
life behind her eyes. “I would never, ever do anything to
harm your sisters.”
“What if they had followed your example and jumped in? What
if Dorothy had hit her head on a rock? Did you think of
that? It was foolish, Poppy. Stupid and foolish.”
Her jaw dropped. “I told them to stay on the bank.”
“So you didn’t care if you drowned.”
“I wasn’t going to drown.”
Luke growled until his throat felt raw. “You almost did. If
I hadn’t pulled you out . . .”
“If you hadn’t pulled me out, I would have climbed out by
myself. You’re not so indispensable, Luke Bontrager, and I
don’t need you.”
“And I don’t need this aggravation.” He jabbed a finger in
her direction. “I’m done with you, Poppy. For good and forever.”
“Done with me?”
“I won’t save you from yourself anymore.”
She scowled. “I never asked you to save me in the first place.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “I should have known
you’d be ungrateful.”
“I should have known you’d be arrogant. What are you so
angry about? Are you upset because a girl did what you
should have done? What you were too chicken to do?”
He smacked his hand against the side of his wagon so hard,
even Poppy jumped. “You don’t know anything. You want to
prove you’re so tough, just like the boys.” His voice shook.
“You’re a girl, Poppy. You’re weaker and softer, and you’re
never going to be as good as the boys at anything.”
She stepped back as if he had slapped her across the face.
“I’ll never be as good at being an idiot.”
“Then quit trying.”
She took a deep breath and glared at him with such contempt
in her eyes, she might have made a weaker man fall over. “I
hate you, Luke Bontrager.”
“I hate you right back.”
She turned on her heels, leaving her basket, her drill, and
four loaves of bread sitting in his wagon. She wouldn’t be
able to carry all of it with one good hand anyway. “Don’t
follow me,” she said.
I wasn’t even going to try.
He leaned against his wagon and watched her limp down the
road, not looking away until she stepped safely onto the
footbridge that spanned the pond at the front of their
property. He’d hate himself tomorrow if he didn’t at least
make sure she got home safe.
He knew how a girl should be treated, even if she didn’t
want the treatment. At least Dinah Eicher appreciated him.
Besides, he preferred blue eyes over brilliant green any day.
Good riddance, Poppy Christner.
