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“I feel better than I have in years.” David greeted Steffie cheerfully early the next morning. He was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee and studying the Portland Sunday paper. He welcomed her with a warm smile, apparently not noticing his daughter’s lackluster mood. “Beautiful morning,” David added.

“Beautiful,” Steffie mumbled as she poured herself a cup of coffee and staggered to the table. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep, and she felt as though she was walking around in a nightmare.

She’d spent the entire night arguing with herself about the lies she’d told Charles. In the end, she’d managed to convince herself that she’d done the right thing. Charles wanted to believe every word. He’d seized every one of her sarcastic remarks, all too ready to consider them truth.

“What time will Charles be by?” her father asked conversationally.

“Charles?” She repeated his name as though she’d never heard it before.

“I thought the two of you were going horseback riding this afternoon.”

“Uh…I’m not sure Charles will be able to come, after all.” The date had probably slipped his mind, the way it had hers. Even if he did remember, Steffie sincerely doubted he’d show up. As far as she was concerned, whatever had been between them was now over. In fact, the more she reviewed their last discussion, the angrier she became. If he honestly believed the things she’d suggested—and he certainly seemed to—then there was no hope for them. None.

“I’ll get dressed for church,” Steffie said bleakly.

“You’ve got plenty of time yet.”

“Norah has to get there early.” Her sister sang in the choir. Generally Norah left the house before the others, but Steffie thought she’d ride with Norah this morning, if for no other reason than to escape her father’s questions. From the looks David was giving her, he was about to subject her to a full-scale inquisition.

Attending church was an uplifting experience for Steffie. During that hour, she was able to forget her troubles and absorb the atmosphere of peace and serenity. Whatever solace she found, however, vanished the minute she and Norah drove into the yard shortly after noon.

Charles’s car was parked out front.

Steffie tensed and released a long, slow sigh.

“Problems?” Norah asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want to talk to him?”

“No, I don’t.” But at the same time, she wasn’t about to back down, either. She wouldn’t allow Charles to chase her from her own home. He was on her turf now, and she didn’t run easily.

Steffie parked behind Charles’s sports car and willed herself to remain calm and collected. Her father must have heard them because he stepped outside the house, his welcoming smile in place. He still moved slowly but with increasing confidence. It was sometimes hard to remember that he was recovering from major surgery.

“Steffie, Charles is here.”

“So I see,” she said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

“He’s in the stable, waiting for you.”

She nodded and, with her heart racing, walked up the steps and past her father.

“Aren’t you going to talk to him?”

“I need to change my clothes first.”

“To talk? But…” He hesitated, then reluctantly nodded.

By the time Steffie was in her bedroom, she was trembling. Her emotions were so confused that she wasn’t sure if she was shaking with anger or with nervousness. But she did know she wasn’t ready to face him, wasn’t ready to deal with his accusations or his reproach. For several minutes she sat on her bed, trying to decide what to do.

“Steffie.” Norah stood in the doorway, watching her. “Are you okay?”

“Of course, I—no, I’m not,” she said. “I’m not ready to talk to Charles yet.”

“Nothing says you have to talk to him if you don’t want to. I’ll make up some excuse and send him packing.”