Free The Reluctant Reformer by Lynsay Sands

she wore—was sticking out. No doubt it had been thrashing around like some ridiculously huge canary just now. Which must have been a sight for this man to come upon, Maggie thought wearily. This simply wasn’t her day.
    â€œAre you in some distress?”
    Maggie almost laughed at his tentative question. Reassuring herself that the reaction wasn’t one of hysteria but amusement, and that surely it was a good sign that her sense of humor was still intact, she answered politely. “Not at all, but thank you for asking.”
    â€œI see. Might I ask what are you doing in there, then?”
    This had to be the most humiliating conversationshe’d ever had, Maggie decided as she wracked her brain for an explanation that would both satisfy as well as get rid of the man. It was becoming unbearable to have him talk to her behind like this, trapped in the bush as she was.
    â€œ Only you, Maggie! ” Her brother’s amused voice echoed in her memory, and she silently cursed. She did not deliberately get herself into these messes. They just sort of…happened.
    â€œI am bird-watching, and I fear your presence is scaring the birds away,” she blurted.
    â€œEr…might you not have more success with your bird-watching by looking up? ” he asked.
    Maggie promptly wished she could kick herself. It was obvious she did not think well under pressure. “Yes, of course. And I was . However, I…” She searched her mind for an acceptable excuse for her position, and was quite pleased when she came up with: “Dropped something. My…er…a hairpin!” she announced with triumph. “Ah, there it is. Thank you. Everything is fine now. You may go.” She waited hopefully but was disappointed by the silence that followed. He wasn’t leaving.
    â€œI should be happy to assist you back to your feet now that you have found your hairpin.”
    Maggie sighed and considered her options. She didn’t think he believed a word she’d said, and he obviously wasn’t going to simply go away. Crawling backward out of the bush and facing the man was her only option. The very idea made her cringe, but taking a deep breath, she began to scramble out…only to stop as her hair caught on a branch.
    â€œIs there something wrong?” came the man’s concerned voice when she paused and gave an exclamation of pain. “Are you caught?”
    â€œYes, I fear I am,” she answered, leaning on one hand and using the other to try to untangle herself.
    â€œPerhaps I can help.” She heard the words, then felt him grasp her hips. Maggie barely managed a startled gasp before he seemed to realize the impropriety of such a choice, and clasped her by the ankles instead. Which was not a better option, in her opinion. Her feet were pulled out from beneath her as he attempted to drag her out of the bush. She screeched in pain as her hair pulled free of the branch—or perhaps was yanked out of her head, she wasn’t sure which. Then she was traveling backward, her skirt—apparently also caught on a branch—staying in place so that she came out of the foliage flat on her belly with her gown forming a sort of tent over her head.
    â€œOh, dear!” Her feet were dropped and the man rushed to her side, pulling the material free for her as she struggled to get off her stomach. Dear God, it would be just her luck to have been dragged through the animal droppings! Maggie scrambled to her feet.
    Once upright, she raised her hand, intending to push her now wild hair out of her face. The sight made her pause.
    â€œOh! You’ve mud on your hands.” Retrieving a handkerchief, her “rescuer” began to clean her fingers.
    Maggie’s mouth opened, then closed. What could she say? It was too late to stop his ruining the bit of cloth, so she remained silent as he tidied her hands. Her gaze moved over him. She had only caught a glimpse of him earlier,