Steven didn't speak again, didn't try to erase what she was feeling. Instead, he found a comb in her handbag, knelt behind her, and gently began working the tangles out of her hair. "Maybe the women of Whitneyville are right about me," she muttered in genuine despair, and daisy petals fell like rain around her as Steven continued to comb her hair. "They might be right about some things," Steven answered gently. "But they're dead wrong about you." There was something soothing in the feel of his hands in her hair, even though the pulling of the comb hurt now and then.
( Linda Lael Miller )
[ Emma And The Outlaw ]
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