Ginny Aiken by Light of My Heart

built a rock-hard wall between them. She wondered if he would ever overcome the loss of his wife and son.
    And that wasn’t all. A grim expression had killed Eric’s humor at the mention of his father. Her curiosity, of course, had immediately leapt to life, but it had gone unappeased, since she had no right to pry into such matters.
    She would never forget his kindness. He’d tried to make everything right for her, and his generosity encompassed others, too. After he’d examined Mrs. Miller’s buggy and determinedthat repairs would take at least two days, he’d driven mother and child back home.
    She couldn’t help liking the complicated, fascinating, irritating man she was coming to know. Although at times he appeared too serious and one could nearly touch his pain, at other times a sense of humor came into play.
    When she realized where her thoughts had gone, she frowned. “Enough of that, Letitia Morgan. You have too much work to do.”
    Returning to her boxes, she suspected it was perhaps the idle mind rather than idle hands that provided the devil his playground. She stacked jar after remedy jar on her new shelves. Then she folded linens. When the sun set and the room grew dark, she lit several lamps so as to continue working.
    Some time later, Letty pressed her fists into her lumbar region and flexed her spine. A knock startled her. Dusting off her hands on her skirt, she went through the former parlor to open the door.
    A disheveled Eric stood there.
    She gestured him inside. “What did you do to yourself?”
    The mischief in his face brought heat to Letty’s cheeks, and she backed into the room. He followed, a smile curving his mustache. He wore the same clothes he had earlier that day, but the hat now sported a crust of mud, and the coat’s wool had ripped. Despite the scrape on his right cheekbone and the swelling around his left eye, Eric remained the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
    She stumbled.
    His smile widened. “I was on my way back to let you know I took care of your patient, and I found Slosh trading punches again. With our earlier conversation fresh in my mind, I let my convictions spur me to action. And Slosh says he doesn’t need you doctoring his wounds this time.”
    “You stopped another brawl!” Letty didn’t know whether toscold or hug him. She knew which she preferred, but it was highly improper. Instead, she led the way to the examining room. “At this rate, you’ll run through my stock of Arnica in no time.”
    He laughed. The sound swept up and down her spine. She turned and scooped pellets from the jar. Two tiny white balls fell from the spoon onto the shelf, then bounced to her feet. She blushed again.
    “I didn’t come for doctoring,” he said. “I wanted you to know that before I took Mrs. Miller and the baby home, I fetched her mother. They needed the help.”
    Letty tried to hide her surprise. How had he known she would worry about her patient?
    He was handsome, intelligent, caring, and brave—although in need of occasional prodding. As she gazed into his eyes, her admiration turned to appreciation and something more.
    His expression changed. His eyes glowed like the flames from the lamps, and the intensity scared her. She tried to back away but found herself pinned against a shelf. His gaze burned into hers, and she trembled.
    She knew she should avoid what was coming but found she couldn’t move. Ever so slowly, Eric lifted his hand and, with the back of two fingers, caressed her cheek. A current ran through her.
    He trailed his fingers to her chin, cupped her jaw in his rough, warm hand, and lifted her face. Then he smiled, a smile so sad it nearly broke her heart.
    “I like you, Letitia Morgan. I like you too much.”

4
    “Eric Karl Wagner, du bist ein dummes Huhn! ”
    The face in the shaving mirror reflected his disgust. If he weren’t careful, not only would he continue to behave like a chicken, but he’d grow feathers and start clucking, too. He