The Proposal at Siesta Key Part 5

She paused, half expecting to be hit by a bolt of lightning or something.

But when nothing happened, she raised her hand and knocked on Michael's door, then felt goose b.u.mps traipse up and down her arms when no one replied. What to do? Was he asleep? Should she wake him up?

Feeling like the Lord was smiling as He propelled her forward, Penny inhaled, lifted her hand, and knocked again. This time with a good bit of force. Miss Beverly had asked her to bring Michael Knoxx water, so that was what she was going to do.

No matter what was about to happen.

CHAPTER 7.

Michael barely heard the first knock at his door, he was so tired. But then, when the knock came again, reality returned. He was in Pinecraft. At the Orange Blossom Inn. Alone.

"Come in," he murmured.

When nothing happened, he raised his voice. "Enter!" he called out, though maybe his command was a little harsher than needed. But surely his brusque tone of voice could be excused. He was sore from being poked and prodded, exhausted from his family's announcement, and slightly groggy from the painkillers that had finally kicked in an hour ago. All he wanted was for whoever was on the other side to say what they wanted and leave him in peace. Hopefully, all in three seconds. Unfortunately, it seemed like it was going to take at least three seconds for the person to even open the door all the way.

"Anytime now," he muttered under his breath.

But when a pretty face popped in, he blinked in surprise. First, because he was half expecting the person who had knocked to turn tail and retreat. Second, because he actually recognized the face.

"It's you," he said.

The young woman chewed on her lower lip before meeting his gaze. "Jah. It is I." She winced. "I mean me. I mean, my name is Penny Troyer. We, um, met Friday night. After the gathering."

"I remember."

She nodded. "Jah."

When she added nothing more, he said, "You offered to help me walk."

"Um. Yes, I did." She nodded again for good measure as her gaze darted around the room, at last coming to stop on a point directly above his head.

Realizing she was shy and he was yet again acting like a jerk, he said, "And even though your offer was mighty kind, I brushed it off." He hoped she heard the apology in his tone. "I was rude. I am sorry about that. My knee was paining me something awful."

"I didn't know that. I was simply worried about you." She smiled before immediately letting her expression go blank.

Almost as though she thought she was going to get in trouble if she relaxed around him.

"I should have listened to you," he said. "I barely got here. After Beverly told my family, they took me to the hospital."

Her blue-green eyes flashed back to his, pure concern filling them. "I am sorry about that."

"Danke." He eyed her a little more closely, liking the way her blond curls wouldn't quite mind her pins. She looked adorable. Bashful and unsure of herself. "So why, exactly, are you here?"

"Why?" Then her eyes lit on the pitcher she was holding in her hand. "Oh. I . . . well, um, I have brought you some water. Would you like some?"

He pointed to the still-full gla.s.s next to his bed. "Thanks, but I have some already."

"Oh." A look of dismay crossed her features as she shifted the pitcher to her opposite hand.

As she continued to shift awkwardly, Michael was suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was sitting in bed wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and an old T-shirt. Wariness coursed through him. "What I meant was, why are you here, at the inn?" And why was she standing in his bedroom? Suddenly, an awful thought hit him hard. "Does Beverly know you came in here?"

"Of course she does! You're my job."

"Say again?" This conversation seemed to be running in crazy circles.

She blinked slowly, obviously irritated with herself. "I guess that didn't come out too well. I meant, I was recently hired here."

His eyes narrowed. "How recently?"

"Today. This afternoon."

He groaned. Maybe his first instinct had been correct. Maybe she really was some kind of celebrity stalker. "You just happened to need a job today? And you just happened to get one here, where I'm staying?"

"It wasn't like that."

"Uh-huh." He hated to sound like a pompous jerk, but he had a right to be worried. Something like this had happened eight months ago. It wasn't easy to forget that impressionable girl in Lancaster County who had been in need of something and had secretly decided only Michael could give it to her. She'd turned up everywhere they'd been, even finding her way to the hallway outside their hotel rooms. Her infatuation had embarra.s.sed him terribly, caused Evan and Molly no small amount of entertainment at his expense, and had ultimately caused the girl a lot of pain and tears.

Now, the pretty young woman in his room stepped closer. "Nee, it wasn't like that at all." Glaring, she continued. "I didn't know you were here."

"Are you sure about that?" That girl in Lancaster County had said much the same thing.

"I'm positive." Her voice turned cool. "This inn was the only place where I could find a job on such short notice."

"I see." It was quite a coincidence. Too much of one. What bad luck! He was stuck here with a girl who was obviously grasping at any reason she could think of to be around him. "Well, danke for your help, but I think I'm good now. You may leave."

But instead of accepting his statement and gracefully exiting the room, Penny shook her head. And then stepped closer. "Wait. Miss Beverly said one of my jobs is to see to your needs. Do you need anything?"

"I do not." Feeling exposed, he pulled the quilt up protectively over his chest.

This girl needed to go. Permanently. The moment he saw Beverly again, he was going to tell her that this girl needed to stay away from him at all times.

Penny was starting to look a bit panicked. "I promise, I didn't know you were here. If I'd known, I would have applied at every other inn before coming here."

"If you say so."

"I know so! Why, you have to be one of the rudest men I've ever met. If you cause me to lose my job . . . I don't know what I'll do."

Her words, combined with the outrage on her face, made everything click into place. He had just made a crucial, terrible mistake. Penny Troyer had not been lying about her reasons for being in his room. He really was her job. And if he didn't make use of her efforts, she was going to get fired. And it was going to be all his fault.

He was horrified. Embarra.s.sed. And, well, he could kick himself. When was the last time he had misread a situation so horribly? For that matter, when was the last time someone had only wanted to spend time with him out of obligation?

He couldn't remember.

His ego was truly in need of being taken down a notch or two. "Listen. I'm sorry. Not to sound too full of myself, but sometimes I run into women who, um, want to get to know me better."

Still glaring, she set the pitcher down on top of the dresser. "You can be sure that I am not one of them, Mr. Knoxx."

Obviously she wasn't. Especially not now, since he'd managed to do a pretty good job of hurting her feelings. "I'm sure I'll need something soon, but at the moment I am fine. Thank you for your offer of help, though. I appreciate it."

His gentle tone, coupled with his kinder explanation, visibly relieved Penny. Right before his eyes, that trapped, wary expression that seemed to encompa.s.s nearly everything she did eased, and in its place he saw something truly endearing. Her blue eyes brightened and the lines of stress around her lips smoothed away, revealing a small smile.

Suddenly, she was adorable. Innocent and guileless and really, really cute.

Which made him wonder how he'd ever thought she was conniving. Now it was obvious that she was simply a sheltered girl in a small community trying to do the best she could with the job that had been given to her. "Hey, I'm sorry for the way I talked to you the other night."

"It's all right."

"So, you will forgive me?"

"Jah. I mean, I probably will. Eventually. I have to, anyway. After all, you are my job."

"Danke. I'll try to not be too much trouble."

When he grinned, a blush ignited her skin. "You can be all the trouble you want. I mean, you're going to have surgery. That probably means you'll be a lot of trouble."

"You have a point."

Her smile widened, and a dimple formed in one of her cheeks.

Now she wasn't just cute, she was bordering on being really pretty.

Michael couldn't resist teasing her. "I'm sure I will be. My parents have said more than once that trouble should have been my middle name."

To his amus.e.m.e.nt, she looked tempted to roll her eyes. Good, he thought. He liked that she wasn't going to let him cow her.

"Well . . ." She fiddled with the edges of her ap.r.o.n, obviously at a loss for what to do next.

He guessed she should probably leave, since he'd practically bitten her head off and embarra.s.sed her something awful. But now that he saw there was a bit more to her than he'd first imagined, he wanted to get to know her better.

He'd let his stubborn pride interfere with his family's offer to stay with him during his recovery and he'd let more than pride interfere with the efforts of a nice girl intent on simply doing her job. Now he had nothing to occupy his mind except the knowledge that he was going to have yet another surgery and be forced to sit by himself while the rest of his family went about raising funds to pay for it.

Every time he let himself dwell on that, he felt guilty and helpless. And, in a way, handicapped. Those thoughts were the ones he'd like to avoid at all costs.

"Since you are supposed to help me and all, would you mind doing me a favor?"

Pure relief settled in her features. "Of course not. What may I do for you?"

"Would you mind sitting with me for a few minutes?"

"That's it?"

"Jah. Just for a little while. If you, you know, really have forgiven me for insulting you."

"I've forgiven you."

A new, warm feeling coasted along his skin. Relief? Definitely. But was it mixed in with happiness? Something else? He wasn't sure.

"Yet you still haven't moved." Not even an inch. He smiled again, this time bringing out the grin he used in public. He used it sometimes as a shield. For some reason, he felt like he needed it at the moment. "So, will you chat with me, Penny? It gets pretty boring here by myself, you know."

"I imagine it does." Something new entered her expression, something that piqued his interest even more. But instead of pulling up a chair or even sitting on the corner of his bed, she remained where she was, hovering beside him like a nervous hummingbird.

It was becoming obvious that she was going to need a lot of prodding if they were ever going to have any real communication.

"If you really don't mind then, sit, Penny." He motioned to one of the empty chairs that stood in the corner. As he'd expected, she sat down immediately. But then she did something just as unexpected. She sighed.

"Sorry, am I keeping you from going home?"

"Nee. Not at all. I was just thinking that I have no idea what to talk to you about."

He blinked. Pretty much everyone he met had something to say to him. They asked him questions about what his family did. They asked questions about being trapped in the ravine. About how he felt when he'd been rescued. Or, they shared. He learned about diseases and disabilities. Injuries and ailments. Sick relatives and wounds and private pains.

No one ever was at a loss for words.

Therefore, he found himself faltering almost as much as she was. "What made you decide to go out to find a job today?" he asked at last. In his experience, everyone liked talking about what they did, even if they didn't like their jobs.

"I decided it was time. My parents have been sheltering me, you see. Until today, I was never allowed to work."

"I'm surprised by that. You are obviously old enough to be out in the workforce."

"I am, indeed."

Still wary of embarra.s.sing her, he shrugged. "You know, maybe it's not a bad thing that you haven't worked until now. I'm sure your parents really care about you."

"They do. Maybe too much."

Just as he was letting that sink in, Penny surprised him again. Curving her lips, she said, "I guess, Michael Knoxx, I should be thanking you. After all, you are the real reason I have a job today. So even though I am mighty sorry you are ailing, I do owe you a great deal of thanks."

He shook his head in wonderment. "That's really something. Are you glad about this?"

"About having a job? Certainly!"

He laughed. Talk about a girl putting him in his place. Her complete insistence that he was nothing more than an obligation to her should have pinched his ego. Instead, he found it amusing.

"Well, you're welcome, then. I am glad my bad leg is going to bring you some good."

Immediately, embarra.s.sment filled her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that I was glad you are going to have surgery."

"Of course you didn't. Don't mind me. Sometimes I try to make a joke and it falls a little flat. I think that's what happened here."

Looking serious, she leaned forward. "Are you scared about the operation?"