First Things First by Delinsky Barbara

Author:Delinsky, Barbara
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2012-04-13T04:00:00+00:00

6

IN FACT, Chelsea’s recuperation took two days, which, Sam claimed with an accusatory scowl, was because of the run-down condition she’d been in. The first day she felt ill enough not to mind the inactivity. By the second day her fever was down, but she still felt weak and tired. Her mind was back to full pace, however, and she might have grown restless had it not been for Sam’s presence. He wasn’t with her constantly—he took time out to chop firewood and do other chores around the pueblito—but he was always nearby, pampering her whenever possible.

They both enjoyed the pampering. He brought her tea, tea and more tea. Then, when her stomach was ready, he let her try pan tostada or dry toast rusks. He sat with her for long hours, talking about the Maya as he knew them, telling her about things he’d show her when she was better and they could take off and explore. He spoke in great detail about the friends he’d made in Mexico, and his respect for them was as apparent as his fondness. Only once did he mention the disagreement he and Chelsea had had on the day preceeding her illness, and then it was in a gentle, almost beseechful tone.

“Please, Chelsea. Don’t do anything to encourage Reni to leave.”

“I wouldn’t do that!” she countered quickly. She was hurt that he’d think she would, yet she supposed he had good reason, given the content of their argument that day. “It’s not my place to try to sway her one way or the other. And I do see your side, Sam. There’s a lot of beauty here, a centuries-old rhythm I wouldn’t dream of disturbing. You may well be right, that Reni would suffer if she left. In the end, though, it’s her decision to make, isn’t it?”

“It is. I just don’t want her helped along the way.”

“What am I supposed to do when she asks questions? If she wants to know about movie theaters and posh restaurants and fancy clothes, should I lie?”

“Just downplay it. That’s all I ask.”

Chelsea didn’t want to argue any more than he did. Things between them were too good. “Trust me. That’s all I ask.”

“I’d like to,” he said even more softly. His gaze held hers in a searching kind of way. “It’s just that I don’t really know you all that well, do I?”

“You know more than most,” was the only truthful answer she could give him. Then she felt guilty and unsure and filled with regret, so she forced a teasing grin. “It’s not every man who’s bathed me the way you did.”

He sat back and gave her a punishing stare. “Hmmph. For all the good it did me. I hope you know that I’m suffering. You lie around here all soft and warm and tempting … it’s not every man who’d exercise the control I have.”

Chelsea reached out and patted his hand. “And I adore you for it,” she quipped. “I do admit that you’ve been a saint.

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