The silence, broken only by the cheerful babbling of the brook, might have been comfortable if it weren’t for those thoughts: Billy nervously remembering her reaction to Fletcher’s touch, and a shaken Fletcher doing his best to banish his treacherous feelings from his tortured brain.“Mr. Belden?”“What?”She hesitated, wondering what to say now that she had opened her mouth, her eagerness to break the silence outstripping her preparation for what would come next.“Well, what?” Fletcher’s voice sounded strained, his tone curt, and he sighed and added more gently, “You’re feeling bored, I suppose. I understand. It isn’t every man who appreciates a good silence.”Instantly, as had become usual since meeting this man, Billy felt her hackles rise. How could Fletcher Belden be so boorish as to tell her how she felt? He didn’t know how she felt; he couldn’t know. And how did she feel? Billy thought about that for a moment, then hung her head.She felt stupid—that’s how she felt.
