When she went back to the office, it wasn’t ten minutes before Matt was standing in the doorway.

“Well?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just a few bruises. And believe me, I have no intention of suing you.”

He didn’t react visibly. “Plenty have.” He was irritated. Lou wouldn’t tell him anything, except that his new employee was as closemouthed as a clam. He knew that already.

“Tell Ed I’ll be out of the office for a couple of days,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

He gave her a last look, turned and walked back out. It wasn’t until Matt was out of sight that Leslie began to relax.

The nightmares came back that night. Leslie had even expected them, because of the visit to Dr. Lou Coltrain and the hospital’s X-ray department. Having to wear high heeled shoes to work hadn’t done her damaged leg any good, either. Along with the nightmare that left her sweating and panting, her leg was killing her. She went to the bathroom and downed two aspirin, hoping they were going to do the trick. She decided that she was going to have to give up fashion and wear flats again.

Matt noticed, of course, when he returned to the office three days later. His eyes narrowed as he watched her walk across the floor of her small office.

“Lou could give you something to take for the pain,” he said abruptly.

She glanced at him as she pulled a file out of the metal cabinet. “Yes, she could, Mr. Caldwell, but do you really want a comatose secretary in Ed’s office? Painkillers put me to sleep.”

“Pain makes for inefficiency.”

She nodded. “I know that. I have a bottle of aspirin in my purse,” she assured him. “And the pain isn’t so bad that I can’t remember how to spell. It’s just a few bruises. They’ll heal. Dr. Coltrain said so.”

He stared at her through narrowed, cold eyes. “You shouldn’t be limping after a week. I want you to see Lou again…”

“I’ve limped for six years, Mr. Caldwell,” she said serenely. Her eyes kindled. “If you don’t like the limp, perhaps you shouldn’t stand and watch me walk.”

His eyebrows arched. “Can’t the doctors do anything to correct it?”

She glared at him. “I hate doctors!”

The vehemence of her statement took him aback. She meant it, too. Her face flushed, her eyes sparkled with temper. It was such a difference from her usual expression that he found himself captivated. When she was animated, she was pretty.

“They’re not all bad,” he replied finally.

“There’s only so much you can do with a shattered bone,” she said and then bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to tell him that.

The question was in his eyes, on his lips, but it never made it past them. Just as he started to ask, Ed came out of his office and spotted him.

“Matt! Welcome back,” he said, extending a hand. “I just had a call from Bill Payton. He wanted to know if you were coming to the banquet Saturday night. They’ve got a live band scheduled.”

“Sure,” Matt said absently. “Tell him to reserve two tickets for me. Are you going?”

“I thought I would. I’ll bring Leslie along.” He smiled at her. “It’s the annual Jacobsville Cattle-men’s Association banquet. We have speeches, but if you survive them, and the rubber chicken, you get to dance.”

“Her leg isn’t going to let her do much dancing,” Matt said solemnly.

Ed’s eyebrows lifted. “You’d be surprised,” he said. “She loves Latin dances.” He grinned at Leslie. “So does Matt here. You wouldn’t believe what he can do with a mambo or a rhumba, to say nothing of the tango. He dated a dance instructor for several months, and he’s a natural anyway.”

Matt didn’t reply. He was watching the play of expressions on Leslie’s face and wondering about that leg. Maybe Ed knew the truth of it, and he could worm it out of him.

“You can ride in with us,” Matt said absently. “I’ll hire Jack Bailey’s stretch limo and give your secretary a thrill.”

“It’ll give me a thrill, too,” Ed assured him. “Thanks, Matt. I hate trying to find a parking space at the country club when there’s a party.”

“That makes two of us.”

One of the secretaries motioned to Matt that he had a phone call. He left and Ed departed right behind him for a meeting. Leslie wondered how she was going to endure an evening of dancing without ending up close to Matt Caldwell, who already resented her standoffish attitude. It would be an ordeal, she supposed, and wondered if she could develop a convenient headache on Saturday afternoon.

Leslie only had one really nice dress that was appropriate to wear to the function at the country club. The gown was a long sheath of shimmery silver fabric, suspended from her creamy shoulders by two little spaghetti straps. With it, she wore a silver-andrhinestone clip in her short blond hair and neat little silver slippers with only a hint of a heel.

Ed sighed at the picture she made when the limousine pulled up in front of the boardinghouse where she was staying. She met him on the porch, a small purse clenched in damp hands, all aflutter at the thought of her first evening out since she was seventeen. She was terribly nervous.