Wonderland Creek
I lifted my chin to look up at him, since he was at least a foot taller than I was. "I wrote to you and mentioned that I planned to stay and volunteer--""And I wrote to you and told you not to come.""I never received your letter.""But you came anyway? Without an invitation?""I thought you were...I mean, your name is Leslie...and most librarians are women." And much friendlier and better groomed, I wanted to add as he strode past me, heading toward the house."I'm not a woman," he hollered over his shoulder. "That's why I told you to stay home and just ship the books to me."I took a deep breath and exhaled. "If you will kindly direct me to the nearest hotel, I'll gladly get out of your...hair." He halted on the front porch and turned to face me."A hotel?--Ha! Where do you think you are, lady? Back in Chicago?" He shook his head and went inside, leaving the library door wide open.It seemed that I had baked myself into a jam tart, as Mother would say. What in the world was I going to do? If I had been reading about this disastrous misunderstanding in a book, I would have flipped to the last chapter to see how everything turned out. But it wasn't a story, it was my life--and I had no idea what to do.--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.