When Heart Collides

Don't tell me what I can and can't do

CHAPTER 3

Embarrassment tinted her cheeks, leaving her complexion completely pink at this point. "No, that is fine," she sniffed, trying in vain to wipe away a sheet's worth of tears with the back of her hand.

"Just take it." This time, he growled, and it was a clear command that left no room for denial or even debate.

Sniffing again, Kelly took the handkerchief from him and murmured a barely audible, "Thank you."

He said nothing for a moment, just watched her slide the material along one cheek, then the other, drying the tear stains on her skin.

When she stopped, he persuaded her to continue, saying, "You can blow your nose with it. It won't rip. I have used it myself. "Not this time," he said uncomfortably.

"It has been washed since then."

A glimmer of an amused smile appeared on her lips. Kelly could not say why, but she felt better. Much better. As if the pain that had been building inside of her had suddenly subsided and begun to shrink back to a manageable size.

She was about to say something to him about his kindness and his willingness to ride to her rescue--something that seemed to fit his tall, dark, closed-mouth demeanor--when she heard someone call her name.

Frank. She would recognize his voice anywhere. Even when it had an impatient tone to it.

The next thing she knew, Frank was next to her, hugging her. She found herself stiffening unintentionally. She did not want to be hugged. She did not want to be pitied or treated like a fragile child who had been bruised and required protection.

If he noticed her reaction, Frank gave no indication that it registered. Instead of leaving the embrace, he slipped his arm around her shoulders, still providing protection.

"Here you are, Kelly. "Everyone is worried about you," he said, as if he were a member of her family. "I came to bring you home," he announced, slightly louder than necessary. His voice changed to an affectionate, scolding tone. "I told you that you shouldn't have come here without me." He brushed aside a tear that she had probably missed while still holding her close to him. Come on, honey, let us get you out of here.

She had allowed their friendship to develop into something more a while ago. But it had been a mistake. She did not have the same feelings for Frank. She'd tried to let him down gently, to let him know politely that it was his friendship she valued, that there was never going to be anything else between them. But Frank seemed not to get the message. He seemed very comfortable with the notion of taking control of her life.

She found herself chafing against that notion and feeling restless.

He was being rude and completely ignoring Luke, she thought. Luke might not care, but she did.

Kelly turned to say something to the rancher, to thank him for his handkerchief and his thoughtfulness, but when she looked where he'd just been, he was gone.

He'd left without saying another word to her.

The next moment, Frank was ushering her away, leading her toward the parking lot. She heard him talking to her, saying something about how relieved he was, or words to that effect.

But her mind was elsewhere.

"You really shouldn't try to face these kinds of things alone, Kelly," Frank quietly chided her as he guided Kelly to his car. Once beside the shiny silver convertible, he stopped walking. "I'm here for you, you know that. And I'll always be here for you," he told her with firm enthusiasm.

"Yes, I know that." Fidgeting inside, Kelly looked around the lot, trying to remember where she'd parked her own car. Frank meant well, but she really wanted to be by herself right now. "And I appreciate everything you're trying to do, Frank, but-"

Her voice trailed off for a moment. How did she tell him that he was crowding her without sounding as if she was being completely ungrateful? He was only trying to be kind, to second-guess her needs, she knew all that. But despite all that, despite his good intentions and her understanding, it still felt as if he was sucking up all the oxygen around her and she just couldn't put up with that right now.

Maybe later, when things settled down and fell into place she could appreciate Frank for what he was trying to do, but right now, she felt as if she desperately needed her space, needed to somehow make peace with this sorrow that kept insisting on finding her no matter which way she turned.

Frank opened the passenger door, but she continued to stand there, scanning the lot. He frowned. "What are you looking for?"

"My car." Even as she said it, Kelly spotted her red four-door sedan. She breathed a sigh of relief.

He opened the passenger door wider, silently insisting that she get inside. "You're not up to driving, Kelly. I'll take you home."

Her eyes met his. Kelly did her best to keep her voice on an even keel, even though her temper felt suddenly very brittle.

"Don't tell me what I can or can't do, Frank. I can drive. I want to drive my car," she told him with emphasis.

He pantomimed pressing something down with both hands. Her temper? Was that what he was insinuating? She felt her temper flaring.

"Don't get hysterical, Kelly," he warned.

The words, not to mention the action, were tantamount to waving a red flag in front of her. If the words were meant to subdue her, they achieved the exact opposite effect.

"I am not hysterical, Frank," she informed him firmly, "I just want to be alone for a while."

"You didn't look very alone a couple of minutes ago.”

For a moment she thought he was going to pout, then abruptly his expression changed, as if he'd suddenly come up with an answer that satisfied him. "Was he bothering you?"

Kelly stared at Frank, confused and wondering how he'd come to that kind of conclusion. Based on what? "Who?" she wanted to know.

"That Alexander’s guy. You know who I mean. His brother killed Lauren White’s father," he said impatiently, trying to remember the man's name. "Luke," he finally recalled, then asked again as he peered at her face, "Was he bothering you?"

She felt as if Frank was suddenly interrogating her.

Not only that, but she felt rather defensive for Luke, although she really hadn't a clue as to why. She'd had a crush on him when she was a teenager, but that was years in the past.

Still, he'd stopped and given her a handkerchief when he didn't have to.

"No, what makes you say that?"

Frank's shoulders rose and fell in a spasmodic shrug.

"Well, you just said you wanted to be alone, and when I found you, he was in your face-"

Kelly was quick to interrupt him. Frank had a tendency to get carried away. "He wasn't in my face, Frank. He hardly said a whole sentence."

Frank's expression told her that it hadn't looked that way from where he was standing. "Then he was just staring at you?"

Kelly didn't like the tone that Frank was taking with her. He was invading her private space, going where he had no business venturing. He was her friend, not her father or her husband. And even then he wouldn't have the right to act this way.

"In part," she finally said. "Look, he saw I was crying and he gave me his handkerchief. No questions, nothing, just his handkerchief."

Frank snorted. "Lucky for you he didn't try strangling you with it."