Jane Eyre Austen Read Free Page B

her forward.  He caught up with her and when he glanced over she saw the spark of recognition.  She slowed her pace slightly, letting him get ahead of her, too tired to verbally spar with him.  Or perhaps just too nervous, she mused.  Suddenly in addition to the burning muscles, she now had butterflies to contend with.  She watched as his powerful legs carried him forward.
    At her four mile mark a dog ran in front of her.  She tried to stop short so she wouldn’t kick it and fell forward instead.  She managed to tuck and roll to the best of her ability and when she stood up, embarrassed and humiliated she turned to see if he had seen her fall.  He had.
    He was walking toward her as she desperately tried to brush the debris of nature she had managed to pick up like a giant lint roller.  He reached her at the same time as the dog owner.
    “I’m so sorry!  Bad dog, Bradley!  He usually never runs like that. He must have seen a squirrel.” The owner was a woman in her thirties, dressed in yoga pants and a tie-dye polar fleece jacket.
    Jane grimaced, “Its fine.”
    Gray growled, “It’s not fine.  Are you injured?” Then, turning to the owner, “Why isn’t your dog on a leash?”  He carefully picked a leaf from Jane’s hair and brushed her cheek gently.
    “I said I’m sorry.” The woman countered.
    He ignored her, “Can you walk?” he asked Jane softly.
    She stood evenly on her feet, “Yes, thank you.”  She eyed the woman warily who had pulled a leash from her pocket and hooked it onto Bradley’s collar.
    He took Jane’s elbow, “Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”
    Jane shrugged, “Other than my pride, I should recover immediately.”
    He grinned, “That was quite a roll.  Martial arts training?”
    She batted her eyes, “yes, I took Taekwondo instead of contredanse.”
    He chuckled, “Come on, where are you headed?”
    She pointed, “My car is over there.”
    His eyebrows shot up, “Excuse me, did you drive to take a run?”  An amused grin slid across his face.
    She nudged his shoulder without thinking, “No. I mean yes, but only because I’m going to the Farmer’s Market.  I usually run in my own neighborhood.”  She looked over her shoulder, “Where the dogs are on leashes or behind fences…”
    She looked at him, suddenly aware that she was being so casual with her boss.  And the conversation was normal.  Shocking, she thought.  She didn’t think she’d ever have the opportunity to have a regular conversation with the man.    Suddenly she wondered why he was even here.  “Do you live near here?”
    He nodded and pointed over to the row of beautiful and expensive Victorian homes that lined the park.  “Yonder.  Do you go to the Farmer’s Market every week?”
    She shook her head, “No, just when mom asks.”
    He nodded, his eyes flicked toward her and then forward, “You live with your mother?”
    Ugh, the weight of that question!  Should she tell him her mom was slowly going nuts and shouldn’t be allowed to live on her own?  She simply nodded and remained silent.
    “And what has your mother asked you to purchase for her from the Farmer’s Market?” he asked, thankfully changing the subject.
    “Flowers and fresh fruit.  She’s giving a party tonight.”  Her face showed pride, “Mom knows how to entertain; I’ll give her that.”
    He looked at her thoughtfully, “what about your father?”
    “He died six years ago.”
    He nodded but said nothing.  “Are you going to your mother’s party tonight?”
    “Yes, I’ll be serving mincemeats and persimmons.”
    He looked at her carefully, “Is your mother hosting the Lighthouse Fundraiser this evening?”
    She looked surprised, “Yes.”  The look that crossed his face made her cringe, “Oh my God!  You’re going to be there, aren’t you?”
    He laughed, “Yes, my dear Ms. Eyre, I have agreed to attend.”
    Her palm massaged her forehead and she chuckled softly.  Her stomach flipped.