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had gone into the furthest reaches of the woods and was working her way back.
    “Amber?” His shout was edged with concern. He hoped nothing had happened to her. Cursing himself for letting her go on ahead, he hurried over the rough ground, his gaze searching the surrounding trees and bushes.
    “..hail.”
    He paused. Was that a faint cry? Mikhail stilled, every muscle tensing, waiting to hear the sound again.
    “Mikhail.” Amber’s voice was faint but definitely recognizable.
    “Amber!” He hiked toward the sound of her voice.
    She called out again, sounding closer this time. He strode through the woods, intent on reaching her as quickly as he could.
     
    ***
     
    Amber breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Mikhail heading toward her. Everything would be all right now.
    “Are you okay?” He squatted in front of her, cupping her face in his hands, his gaze searching her face.
    “I am now.” She smiled shakily. “But I’m not sure about my ankle.”
    He followed her glance to her swollen left ankle. “Let me see. I studied first aid last year.” His strong, tanned fingers carefully probed the tender flesh, but he didn’t miss her wince. “I think you have a mild sprain.”
    She nodded. “I’m just glad I haven’t broken it.”
    “Why didn’t you call me?” He frowned in concern.
    “I left my phone at the house,” she admitted, wrinkling her nose.
    “Lapushka.”
    Mikhail wrapped her in his arms, and she nestled against his strong chest, breathing in his scent of subtle spicy cologne and hay. Although she wasn’t sure what the exact translation of lapushka was, from the way he held her, she thought it might be similar to sweetheart. Warmth blossomed inside her.
    When he finally pulled back, he asked in a thick voice, “Can you walk?”
    “I can hobble.” She tried to smile. “You must think I’m a real klutz. First I nearly fell over in the street and you caught me, and now I’ve fallen over this log because I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m not usually clumsy like this.”
    “Those boys were not paying attention.” He shook his head. “I was probably the same at their age. I’m just glad I was there to help you.”
    “So am I.” She inhaled shakily. When he looked at her like that, like she was the most precious thing in the world, her knees turned to jelly.
    “Did you find your bracelet?”
    “Yes.” Amber drew out the bracelet from her pocket and showed it to him. “It was over there.” She gestured to the clump of orange wildflowers nearby.
    “Good. I shall take you back to the house and you can rest your ankle.”
    She put the bracelet back in her pocket, checking it was secure, then stood, her hand grasping Mikhail’s shoulder for support.
    “Hold on to me,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her, and lifting her against his chest.
    “Mikhail!” she squeaked, clutching his firm, broad shoulders. “What are you doing? You can’t carry me.”
    “Of course I can,” he chided her gently, taking long strides away from the log.
    Amber hid her face against his chest, the firm muscles feeling solid and reassuring through his cotton shirt. She would be too heavy for him . A blush of embarrassment rose to her cheeks. Any moment now, he would put her down and announce that they would walk back to the farmhouse after all. But his stride never lessened, and after a couple of minutes, her tense muscles relaxed. She loosened her death grip on his shoulders and sighed softly. It was wonderful to be carried in his arms, although she wished it were under happier circumstances.
    Once they reached the house, Mikhail gently put her down, one arm remaining around her waist.
    “Sit.” He guided her to a wooden kitchen chair.
    She sat down and made a face as she looked at her ankle. Mikhail squatted down in front of her and took off her shoes and socks.
    “How does it feel now?” He lightly touched the ligament.
    Sucking in a breath, she considered his question. “I