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He straightened slightly, planning to hop further along the length of the bed. As his hand moved in the air, he touched cotton. The night shirt seemed to be floating in front of him.

Daniel stiffened and took the shirt from her hand. “Thank you,” he managed to say. Every ounce of his being wanted to turn around and run. But he was just as bare from the backside and, with his leg, all he could have managed was a hop. He figured a hopping nude man might look fairly ridiculous.

“You're welcome,” she answered as formally as if she'd just handed him a songbook in church.

He knew she was grinning. He could feel it.

Daniel squared his shoulders and mustered enough dignity to put on his shirt. She'd watched the whole time he'd bathed. Watched him boldly, like no woman would watch a man. He'd heard his mother say once that she'd never seen his father completely nude. Even when he'd bathed and she washed his back, he had the decency to cover his private parts.

He pulled the shirt down. He had no private parts. She'd seen all of him. And from the time he took bathing, she'd stared for quite a while.

“If you can stand on that leg a few seconds more, I'll change the sheets.” The polite coldness was back in her voice.

He didn't trust words, all he could do was nod. There were a few hundred things he thought about saying to her. She was no lady to stand silently in a room and watch him. A respectable woman would have made her presence known.

Maybe she wasn't insane, but she'd surely drive him over the edge at this rate. What kind of wife watches her husband?

Then it hit him… probably every one with the exception of his mother. What Karlee had done was a normal act. She'd stood near while her wounded husband bathed after he'd told her he needed no help.

“I'm finished.” She touched his arm lightly. “The bed is ready.”

She was close, very close.

“Would you like me to help you?”

He brushed the edge of the mattress. “I can manage.” He sank down, slowly moving his leg into place. “In truth, I think I'll go back to sleep. I feel as though I've walked miles.”

He didn't protest when she helped him straighten up and tucked him in. Then she was gone, as silently as she'd appeared.

Daniel closed his eyes and decided the dreams of the night were not nearly as frightening as the reality of waking up.

SIXTEEN

THE NEXT FEW DAYS PASSED IN A HAZE FOR KARLEE. Since the savage now lived in the kitchen, and Adam had set up a cot in the dining room, she spent most of her time in Daniel's parlor room with the twins. The little house seemed to shrink smaller with each tick of the clock.

When Daniel drifted into sleep, she'd move the twins upstairs to play in their room, or to the porch. But the days were cloudy, and it rained off and on all week. The girls seemed happiest near their father. So the area around Daniel's bed became their play area and her sewing room.

She'd always loved playing with fabric, making dolls from scraps of material. When she'd been with the aunts they'd made fun of her pastime so she'd only been able to work early in the morning or late at night after they'd gone to bed. Now, she could work as the twins played without anyone criticizing her.

Her only time alone seemed to be late at night when she slipped onto the porch for a few minutes. One evening, she saw an old woman in rags standing across the street just out of the lamp light's glow.

Karlee watched her for a while, but the old woman didn't move. From her clothes Karlee guessed she must be one of the many Germans who lived by the lake. Wolf told her most of them were good people who'd paid all they had for land in Texas only to discover they'd been swindled and left in the port towns with no money and no way home.

On impulse, Karlee walked across the street and joined the old woman. For a while they just stood, side by side. Finally, Karlee asked, “It looks like rain tonight.”

“Yes, it does,” the woman answered in a thick accent.

“Have you a place to stay.”

The woman shook her head.

Karlee felt as though she were wealthy for the first time in her life. She smiled. “I'm the preacher's wife and I have been greatly blessed. Too much, I think. So much so, I waste some of what I have. And I think that is a sin.”

“A sin,” the woman agreed.

“Would you please help me, dear lady? I have guests so my house is full, but the barn is empty. Would you be willing to stay there? It's clean and dry and I know of a room hidden away.”

The old woman thought about it. “Me and mine?” she finally asked.

“You and yours,” Karlee answered. “Thank you. You do me a great favor, Madam.”

“Ida,” the woman answered. “My name is Ida. And you are welcome, Mrs. McLain.”

Karlee went back into the house knowing what she'd done was right. She curled into the chair in Daniel's room and fell asleep.

Daniel managed to keep his bad moods to himself since the morning he wore his coffee. The polite coldness that somehow developed between them grew into a constant. Much as he seemed to hate it, he was dependent on her. But he allowed her to do nothing for him that he could do for himself.

She no longer wrapped his hands but continued to change the bandage on his leg. Thanks to Adam's expert care, the wound was healing fast. Each time she touched his leg she felt his muscles tighten, but he didn't say a word. The knowledge that she embarrassed him made her hands linger longer. She told herself that it was for the best. The more she touched him the more comfortable he'd become with her near. He couldn't jump every time she came close for the next thirty or forty years.

Wes's wife, Allie, spent the greater part of most days trying to talk to John. Finally, he stopped fighting the ropes and allowed her to feed him. But he still showed no sign of listening to a word she said. Her determination that he was her brother, John, seemed equaled only by his desire to be full Apache.

Adam took his turn guarding the savage at night but spent most of his days in town. Several people had been hurt in the fire, and an extra doctor was much appreciated. The churches left standing had been transformed into hospitals.

Karlee tried to sleep in the girls' room but found she woke Wes up each time she moved downstairs to check on Daniel. He'd spent four long years in the war aware of every sound. Even her slight movements brought him to the bedroom door with gun in hand.

After a few nights of being frightened out of a year's life by Wes jumping onto the landing, Karlee moved permanently to the chair in the parlor for sleep. Thanks to the wide windows, this room was by far the warmest in the day and the coldest at night.

Daniel had been asleep the first night she moved her things in, but on the second, she sensed he was still awake. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she deposited her belongings on the small couch that had been pushed beneath the windows to allow room for Daniel's bed.

“What are you doing still up?” He showed no sign of having been asleep.

“I thought I'd curl up in the chair by your bed.”

“I don't need a nurse. I'm fine.”

“I know. I just don't want to sleep upstairs. I wake Wes up when the stairs creak. He runs out expecting to find John and frightens me to death.” She pulled off her dress. “You don't mind my being here, do you?”

“No. It doesn't matter. I don't know when you're in the room half the time anyway,” he answered coldly. “What are you doing now?”

“I'm putting on my nightgown.” Her petticoats joined her dress in a pile.

“In front of me?”

Karlee laughed. “Rather bold of me undressing in front of a man. Aunt Rosy would be shocked. Except you can't see me.”

“But I can hear you.” Daniel's voice lowered slightly.

Karlee stopped her progress and stared at him for a minute. If the bandages were removed, he would have been looking right at her. And she stood with her nightgown unbuttoned all the way to her waist.