Free In Every Heartbeat by Kim Vogel Sawyer Page A

“What is so funny?”
    More irritated than she could understand, Libby snapped, “Yes. Why is that so funny?”
    Bennett cleared his throat several times, bringing the laughter under control, but his eyes continued to sparkle with suppressed humor. “Sorry, ladies. I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just trying to imagine Lib and Pete as a couple.” He laid his arm on the back of Alice-Marie’s chair but looked toward Libby. “You and Pete are great friends—always have been—but it could never go beyond that.”
    Alice-Marie tipped closer to Bennett. “Why not?”
    “Yes. Why not?” Libby folded her arms over her chest and glared at Bennett.
    “Come on, Lib. Think about it. Pete’s gonna be a preacher. He’ll need a wife who’s . . . docile. One who’s willing to stay home and cook soup for sick people and things like that. Libby couldn’t do it. She hates cooking. And when it comes to being docile . . .” He chuckled, shaking his finger at Alice-Marie. “You’re wrong on this one. Libby with Pete would never work.”
    Libby wanted to argue with Bennett, but she couldn’t. She could never be a good wife to a minister for the reasons he’d listed and so many more. To her surprise, it pained her to acknowledge it. “You’re right, Bennett. Petey and I could never be anything more than friends. To expect more would be ludicrous.”
    Bennett suddenly looked somewhere behind her shoulder. The sheepish look on his face sent a tingle of awareness down Libby’s spine. She turned to peek, but even before she looked, she knew what she’d find. Petey was standing behind her. The sadness in his eyes turned her heart upside-down.

    Pete took an awkward side step and held tight to his dessert as Libby jumped from her seat. She captured his hands, which curled around the plate bearing a large wedge of apple pie. He’d been looking forward to the cinnamon-laden treat, but with Libby’s comment, his appetite fled.
    “Petey, I didn’t know—”
    “—that I was here?” Pete forced a chuckle. He swallowed the lump of anguish her words had created. “It doesn’t matter, Libby.
    You didn’t say anything dishonest, did you?”
    “No, but . . .”
    He took one shuffling step forward and placed the plate in the center of the table. “Bennett, I hope you’re still hungry. I brought the biggest piece of pie left in the pan.” He sensed Libby’s troubled gaze following him, but he managed to keep his tone light. “The cake looked dry, so—”
    “Petey, please.” Libby tugged at his arm, as she’d done dozens of times over the years. In an instant, they were eleven years old again and she was begging him to join her in a game of marbles or to push her on the wooden swing that hung from the tallest tree behind the orphans’ school. But whatever she wanted this time, he couldn’t offer it. His heart felt so bruised, he was amazed it continued beating.
    Very gently, Pete disengaged Libby’s hands from his arm. He looked at Alice-Marie, who didn’t quite meet his gaze. “I enjoyed meeting you, Alice-Marie. I’m sure there will be other chances for us to have a meal together since you’re Libby’s roommate and Libby and I are . . . such good friends.” He even managed to smile. “I hate to rush off, but my first class is at eight tomorrow morning, and I’d like to do a little reading before I turn in. So . . .” He moved backward a few inches, cautious that his peg leg didn’t slide.
    Libby gripped the back of her chair, looking directly into his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Her eyes begged forgiveness.
    “Sure. Tomorrow.” He nodded good-bye and made his way out of the dining hall. Slowly. Aware that one misstep could send him toppling. If only he could run. His body strained against the restriction of his wooden appendage. If he could break into a run on the expansive grassy lawn between the dining hall and his dormitory, maybe he could expend this overwhelming frustration.
    “To expect