Free Delilah's Weakness by Kathleen Creighton Page A

course.
    Luke coughed and continued in a reluctant mutter, "She wants me to get married."
    "Married?" He’d managed to surprise her. And was she just a tiny bit disappointed?
    He nodded solemnly. "Immediately, if not sooner. She’s very determined."
    "I don’t believe it," Delilah murmured disgustedly.
    Luke looked pained. "Believe it. You don’t know how persistent Glenna can be when she gets obsessed with something."
    Delilah gazed sourly at him. It wasn’t his story she didn’t believe—his voice had the unmistakable timbre of sincerity. She couldn’t believe she’d been taken in by his charm and good looks. He was a cowardly, egocentric jerk. "Have you tried just telling her you don’t want to get married?" she asked tartly.
    "It’s not that easy," he said with a put–upon sigh. "I care about Glenna—a lot. I don’t want to hurt her, but we just don’t see eye–to–eye on the subject of marriage. Since I’m not busy right now, she’s expecting me to get serious about it. I don’t want to have it out with her. I don’t want to hurt her. But if I were to make myself inaccessible…" His eyes crinkled ruefully. "So, how about it? Satisfied that my motives are, if not honorable, at least valid?"
    Delilah was silent. She didn’t know why she should feel depressed. It was what she should have expected of someone with his looks, charm, and magnetism. She felt very sorry for the poor woman whose misfortune it was to be in love with this man. She would be doing Glenna a very big favor by preventing her from marrying a man who didn’t even have the guts to face up to her with the truth. How awful it must be to be so emotionally dependent on a man. It was a state Delilah vowed never to find herself in.
    "I don’t know," she muttered finally, biting her lip. "It seems… I’d have to think about it. There are problems."
    "What problems?"
    She ran a hand through her hair, uncaring that the gesture invariably made her resemble a street urchin.
    "Well, for starters, I don’t know where I’d put you. I only have one room."
    Luke shrugged, smiling. "I don’t mind. I can sleep on the couch."
    She eyed him and said stonily, "I was thinking in terms of the barn."
    "Ouch." He winced, then grinned. "Delilah, are you afraid of me?"
    "Afraid, no," she retorted scornfully. "Realistic, yes. And you aren’t. Do you have any idea at all what you’d be getting into?"
    "What do you mean?"
    "Have you ever seen a birth before? Any birth?" When he shook his head blithely she eyed his beautiful jacket and snowy shirt and said flatly, "It’s messy."
    He made a scout’s–honor sign. "I promise to change my clothes first."
    "Hmm," she murmured skeptically. "You know there’s no such thing as nine to five on a farm."
    "There’s no such thing as nine to five when you own a company, either."
    "I’d have to be able to depend on you. Really depend on you. A lamb’s favorite time to be born is three o’clock in the morning. It’s cold and dark, and you have to get out of bed and sit in the cold and wait. Sometimes we’ll be up all night and work right through the next day, and the next night we might be up all night again—"
    He took her arms and interrupted her with his quiet voice. "But if I’m here helping you it wouldn’t be like that, would it? We’d take turns."
    Delilah swallowed. "I don’t want to lose a lamb because you decided to sleep through your turn to check the ewes. And if I need your help—"
    "I’ll be there. You can count on it." There was a soft, thoughtful look in his eyes. "Any other objections?"
    Oh, yes. she thought, there were other objections. But she couldn’t very well say, "You’re too attractive. I don’t know how to breathe when you’re close to me." Just for a moment she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to work alongside this man, to share the long night vigils, to have an extra pair of hands and a strong back to help when trouble came. And a shoulder to lean on, arms