Chapter 16
Clutching her hat like it was a lifeline, and what a flimsy one at that, Clara raced for the door. How could he speak such sweet loveliness to her? Didn’t he see that it was breaking her heart in an entirely different way?
Of course not, because I’m acting irrationally and best get a grip. This man, how easily his words, his actions, can make me feel like I’m soaring high with hawks on a summer day or drowning in a downpour. Is this what it means to be in love?
“Clara,” he called after her. Her hand was on the handle of the barn door when he managed to catch her coat sleeve in his fingers. “Clara, please, tell me what’s wrong? Is it something I said?”
She studied him, this man who held the strings to her heart like she was little more than a puppet. The blue of his eyes. His
