Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Copyright

She was pinned beneath his body and could not get away.

After a few moments she stopped struggling. “Let me up,” she said, laughing. “We’ll both be soaked.”

She opened her eyes, blinking the snow from her lashes. When she looked into his face, so close to her own, she could see a new expression in his eyes. An expression Meagan had never seen before.

“Josh? What is it? Have I made you angry?”

“Dang it, Meagan, do you know how pretty you are with your cheeks all red, your eyes so bright and your lips all red and shiny and just waiting like a juicy winter apple to be tasted?” He gave a little sob deep in his throat and knew in that moment that all the judges and courts in the world couldn’t stop him.

If he couldn’t taste those sweet lips, he’d surely die…!

Dear Reader,

This month we’re celebrating love “against all odds” with these four powerful romances!

Since her debut with Harlequin in 1991 with To Touch the Sun, Barbara Leigh has written several more historical novels, but none of her previous romantic leads have had to overcome the kind of obstacles that Josh and Meagan do in The Surrogate Wife. Meagan is wrongfully convicted of murdering Josh’s wife, and is sentenced to hang. In a moment of mercy, the judge orders her to a life of servitude to Josh, a single father in the Carolinas of 1790. So when the flame of love ignites between them, it’s a matter of life or death that they keep it hidden…

The Midwife by Carolyn Davidson is the poignant story of a midwife who agrees to help out a stern farmer with his newborn after his wife dies in labor. They marry for convenience, yet later find a deep love, despite the odds. And don’t miss Lady of the Knight by the talented Tori Phillips, about a courtly knight who buys a “soiled dove” and wagers that he can pass her off as a lady in ten days’ time. Yet the more difficult charade lies in hiding his feelings for her!

Keep a hankie nearby while reading about past lovers Lily and Tristan in Catherine Archer’s medieval novel, Winter’s Bride. Long thought dead, the now amnesiac Lily is hired to care for Tristan’s daughter—her daughter. Love shines anew as Lily’s memory slowly dawns…

Whatever your tastes in reading, you’ll be sure to find a romantic journey back to the past between the covers of a Harlequin Historicals® novel.

Sincerely,

Tracy Farrell

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Harlequin Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

The Surrogate Wife
Barbara Leigh

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BARBARA LEIGH

Born and raised in Nebraska, Barbara Leigh lived on both coasts before settling in California. She loves to write, read, travel and tramp through mansions, museums, ghost towns and castles. If it’s old, there is bound to be a story there somewhere.

Barbara raised her family under the premise that there are only two gifts you can give your children: one gift is roots, the other, wings. So now that the children have grown up and flown the coop, Barbara shares life with her one-and-only husband, a bodacious cat, a precocious dog, her collection of Artists’ dolls, the diverse activities of fifteen assorted grandchildren, and a vivid imagination.

To Vivian Doering

Chapter One

“We find the defendant, Meagan Anne Reilly, guilty of murder.”

The jury foreman stared at the floor as he spoke, and jumped noticeably when the judge slammed his gavel down on the top of the big oak desk. There was no other sound in the schoolhouse that served as a courtroom, except for the nervous buzzing of the flies and the tiny gasp of the young woman who stood before the judge.

Judge Harvey Osborne rubbed his hand over his face. He hated this whole situation. It was bad enough sentencing a man to death, but hanging a young woman was definitely against everything he believed. Still, there was little choice. He took his watch from his pocket and opened the case as though looking at the time; however, it was not the hour Harvey Osborne was seeking, but reassurance. Silently he read the inscription: Let justice be done, though the heavens fall.

As always, the words gave him courage to do what must be done. Still, Judge Osborne cleared his throat twice before speaking. “I have no choice but to sentence you, Meagan Anne Reilly, to death by hanging and—” He got no further, for Meagan Anne Reilly fell to the floor in a dead faint and heard no more.

In the rush that followed Meagan was lifted to a chair and held there while one of the village women waved a burned feather under her nose. As the fervor quieted the jury foreman raised his hand, waving it tentatively until he got the attention of the judge.

“Y-your Honor,” he stammered, “the jury would like to suggest mercy for the defendant. We don’t feel that Miss Reilly killed Lily Daniels on purpose. She had no motive to do something like that. Most like it was an accident of sorts.”

Immediately the prosecutor was on his feet. “Your Honor, I object. This woman has committed murder. In an unprovoked fit of rage Miss Reilly struck Lily Daniels and shoved her down the stairs, leaving a bereaved husband and a motherless child. She refused to admit her guilt, although it’s been proved beyond all reasonable doubt, and the murderess shows no signs of remorse. She must be punished!” The man warmed to his theme. “Think of the poor widower who must cook and clean and milk and plow while he tries to raise his child alone, without the help and succor of his beloved wife.” He raised his hand, index finger pointed upward. “In the name of Josh Daniels and his daughter I demand retribution.”

The attorney looked over the room as though expecting applause. There was a buzz of voices, and again the judge brought down his gavel as Meagan’s lawyer jumped to his feet.

“Your Honor, my client cannot admit something of which she is not guilty. No one, including Meagan herself, saw Mrs. Daniels fall to her death. You cannot sentence a woman to hang for something even the jury doubts that she has done intentionally.”

“I have no doubt that she did it,” The voice of Ruth Somers rang through the schoolroom. “I saw her standing over poor Lily’s body. I know what I saw!”

The crack of the gavel echoed above the sound of voices. “Be quiet, all of you. Let me think on this a few minutes.”

Judge Osborne leaned back in his chair and scowled at the crowded room. The girl didn’t deserve to die. It seemed as if her only crime had been one of panic. In all probability the ladies came in unexpectedly and caught the girl pilfering. In her haste to get away Meagan Reilly had likely knocked the fragile Lily flying as she tried to push past her and escape down the stairs.

If Meagan Reilly had lived in Banebridge for any length of time it would have been an entirely different matter, but the girl had been there but a few weeks, with little to recommend her other than good manners, a cheery disposition, a decent education and her willingness to work.

He sighed. Judge Osborne was not an exceedingly clever man, but he prided himself on being fair, and he didn’t feel that sentencing the girl to death was fair. Unfortunately, he was unable to come up with a satisfactory alternative.

Justice was the name of the game—as it said in his watch case—and it was justice he was sworn to uphold. An eye for an eye. A life for a life.

His eyes fell on the bent head of the newly widowed husband. It would be difficult for the man to carry out the duties of his farm and family without the help of a woman, and women were few and far between. The child had been sent east to stay with relatives during the trial, but the man would want her back soon.

What Josh Daniels needed was a hired girl.

Judge Osborne’s head jerked up and the room fell silent as surely as if he had struck his gavel.

“After taking the recommendation of the jury, as well as both lawyer arguments, under consideration, I have come to a decision.” He paused dramatically and was pleased to see that the defendant had recovered enough to listen. “Having been found guilty of murder, and having the jury recommend mercy, in similar circumstances a man would be sentenced to life in prison. However, we have no prison facilities for women in the Carolinas. I therefore sentence Meagan Anne Reilly to serve her sentence by. working for Josh Daniels and his family in such manner as they see fit. She will work without remuneration, other than bed and board and such clothing as is necessary.”

“Why, that smacks of slavery!” one of the women said in an outraged whisper.

“You can’t send a young woman to live with a single man,” Meagan’s lawyer burst out. “It’s immoral!”

“I can and I will!” the judge shouted. “I cannot comprehend a man having sexual relations with the woman who killed his wife, but should Meagan Reilly manage to seduce Josh Daniels in an effort to lighten her lot, I will be forced to revert to the prescribed sentence of hanging, and Mr. Daniels will be held in contempt of court.” With that the gavel fell again and the judge pushed his chair away from the teacher’s desk and smiled in satisfaction.

Yes, sir, he’d done it again, thought Judge Harvey Osborne. Josh Daniels had a helpmate who would work right alongside him for the rest of her life and it wouldn’t cost a cent, and Meagan Reilly wouldn’t hang after all. He was still congratulating himself when he left the courtroom, oblivious to the shock, disbelief and hostility on the faces of the man and woman most directly involved.

“I refuse to have that woman in my house!” Josh slammed his fist on the table with such force that the pictures trembled on the schoolhouse walls.

“Would you rather see the girl hang?” Will Carmichael asked. He had served as Meagan’s lawyer despite his close friendship with Josh.

“No! I don’t want to see her hang.” Josh pulled his fingers through his thick blond hair. “I don’t want to see anybody hang. I’m sick of death.”

Half the settlers in Banebridge Valley had passed on to their rewards during the past year. Lily’s death had been only one more cross to bear. It was so senseless. So unnecessary.

“How dare the judge saddle me with a woman who suffers from fits of temper and refuses to admit her weakness?” Josh wondered aloud. “How dare he suggest that I leave my daughter in the care of the woman who is responsible for my wife’s death.”

“Just talk to the girl, Josh,” Will suggested. “She isn’t a bad sort. She’s young and strong and looks to be healthy enough.” He paused. “If you don’t have her I’m going to ask the judge to let me take her into my home, but I’ll tell you straight out, I don’t think I have a chance. Judge Osborne has his mind made up. And the woman’s life is on the line.”

Josh sighed in resignation. “Abbie will stay with her grandparents until summer’s end. I’ll talk to the girl. If I can abide her presence I’ll take her home with me. She can take over the chores. If she doesn’t work out, I’ll bring her back and you can deal with her.”

“Josh, you know that half the people around these parts have served an indenture for one reason or another. There’s hardly a family that doesn’t have a servant who has been found guilty of some crime, and the settlers pay good money for their services.”

“I’ve paid for this woman,” Josh reminded him. “Paid with the loss of my wife.”

Will nodded, breathing a silent prayer of gratitude that Judge Osborne had not known Lily Daniels, that he had considered her to have been a helpmate to her husband rather than a lovely hothouse flower. Had her true demeanor been known, the judge’s decision might have been different. Especially since it was Josh who had done the baking, cooking and cleaning, as well as the chores and farming, while his wife had spent her time visiting the neighbors, playing the organ and haphazardly watching Abbie.

Most certainly, Josh would find having a helpmate a completely new experience.

Meagan stood as Will approached. The deputy stepped away to afford them some privacy, but Meagan’s voice echoed through the room.

“I will not go!” she said firmly. “I would rather be dead than spend the rest of my life as a slave in punishment for a crime I did not commit.”

“And that is exactly what will happen,” her lawyer told her. “If you don’t go with Josh there is no way I can save your pretty neck.”

“I’ll not be any man’s slave,” she reaffirmed, but her declaration fell on deaf ears, for the sentence had been handed down and the room cleared.

Will Carmichael took the girl’s arm and guided her from the schoolhouse. “Come, we’ll get your belongings.”

Josh Daniels watched them from across the schoolroom. He still intended to try to talk to the judge, if he could find the man before he was too deep in his cups to listen to reason. Surely Judge Osborne would see that the sentence he had imposed was impossible. Not that Josh wanted Meagan to die. Never that. It was just that he did not want her living with him, reminding him that if it wasn’t for her, Lily would still be alive. Meagan’s presence would be as great a punishment for Josh as the enforced service would be for her.

And, despite her size, Meagan was little more than a girl, with her bright brown eyes and golden brown hair. She was almost as tall as Will. She looked strong and capable. Perhaps that had gone against her. Not only with the court, but in Josh’s mind, as well.

Lily had always looked as though the slightest breeze would blow her away. Josh knew he had been a fool to bring his wife into the wilderness and expect her to survive, much less thrive, in its harshness.

Meagan Reilly would survive. Her life might not be a happy one, but she would stay alive and earn her keep, and that was something. It was more than Lily had been granted.

As he glared at her across the room, Josh felt anger surge through his body, hard and unyielding, like molten steel.

Meagan stood in the doorway, clutching a bundle containing all her worldly possessions.

Will Carmichael was giving her some last-minute instructions. His voice droned on. Meagan no longer heard it. Her mind—her whole being—was focused on the man behind her. She could feel his eyes burrowing into her back. She could sense the hostility, the anger, the hatred.

She wanted to tell him that she had done nothing to deserve his hatred. She wanted to beg him to forgive her for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but more than that, she wanted to slap the smug expression from his face. He was so self-righteous in his capacity as the bereaved widower, the grievously wronged party who suffered in silence. But Meagan had also been wronged.

She turned and her eyes caught his and held them with a question that seemed also to be a challenge.

Without dropping his gaze, Josh came toward them and stopped when Will Carmichael’s hand dropped on his shoulder.

“She is young and strong, and should be a good worker,” Will reminded Josh. “She can cook and sew and bake…” The unspoken premise that Meagan could do all the things Lily had not been willing to master hung in the air.

“I still don’t want her in my house,” Josh ground out the words.

“Let her sleep in the barn.” Will laughed. “The judge didn’t say she was to be treated as an honored guest. But Josh—” he sobered as he spoke “—don’t be too hard on the girl. There is a question in my mind as to whether or not she is guilty. Something smacks of deception, but I was unable to ferret it out in the few days I had to build my case.”

“You heard Ruth Somers,” Josh fired back. “She knows what she saw. And she saw this woman kill my wife.”

“Ruth saw what she wanted to see,” Will grumbled, “just like she always does. It’s just too bad Meagan hired on to help with Ruth’s children. If she hadn’t been there Ruth wouldn’t have had such an easy scapegoat.”

Meagan gave Will a look of gratitude. But before she could speak, Josh grabbed her elbow and steered her toward the street, neither asking nor wanting to hear what Will Carmichael had meant by his words. A burst of laughter from down the street told him it was already too late to approach the judge.

“Get in the wagon,” Josh ordered. “And you can stop making sheep’s eyes at Will Carmichael. He can’t help you anymore.”

And neither can I, he added silently.

When it came right down to it, Josh Daniels suddenly realized he was unable to help himself, for when he touched Meagan Reilly a bolt of unwanted attraction shot through him that boded no good for either of them.

He drew a deep breath and climbed onto the seat of the wagon. God knew he wouldn’t have such untimely, and unwelcome, surges had Lily been able to fulfill her duties as his wife. But ever since Abbie’s dangerous birth she had been unable to receive him as her husband. And now Lily was dead, and the law of the land had given to Josh a young woman bursting with life and health and, God help him, an earthy sexuality to which a man would have to be dead not to respond.

If he were smart he would follow the judge and demand that, drunk or sober, the man rescind his order and give the girl over to Will Carmichael and his wife, with whom she had stayed while waiting for the judge to arrive to preside over her trial.

But where women were concerned, Josh Daniels was not a smart man. There was no question about the fact that he needed the help. Nor was there a question that he would have accepted assistance from any soul on the face of the earth rather than Meagan Reilly.

He wondered how long she would stay with him before bolting into the wilderness. Personally, he knew he would take his chances with the Indians before he’d work as another man’s slave. He glanced down in time to see Meagan toss her bundle into the back of the wagon. She was about to follow when his voice stopped her.

“Get up here on the seat beside me,” he ordered brusquely. “I don’t want to get home and find you gone.”

He clucked to the horses as she scrambled into the seat. The wagon hit every rut as they followed the road out of town.

Meagan was perched on the very edge of the seat, putting every available inch of room between herself and Josh Daniels. With each jolt of the wagon he expected to see her disappear over the side and fall beneath the wheels, or run for open country. He pulled the wagon to a halt.

“Look, Miss Reilly, I don’t want to be responsible for your death either through an accident if you fall off the seat and under the wagon wheels, or through your foolishness should you decide to try to run away. Now get enough of your body on the seat so that I can be sure you’re not going to kill yourself on this bumpy road, or I’ll be forced to tie you in the back of the wagon.”

Meagan shot him a venomous look but she did allow herself a bit more of the seat. They rode through the afternoon, stopping only to rest the horses and allow them to drink at the plentiful streams.

Meagan’s eyes scanned the horizon. How she longed for the sight of her brother. But Reilly had gone to join his mother’s people and it was doubtful that he would have heard of her plight. Still shocked and confused by the situation that had ended in her conviction, Meagan tried to focus on anything other than the unbelievable circumstances in which she found herself.

Josh reached into his haversack and brought out some bread and cheese, which he thrust toward her. “Chew it slowly,” he cautioned, “and make it last. There will be little else until after we get home.”

“Home,” Meagan repeated as though the word were new.

“What did you say?” Josh asked.

“I said home. I don’t remember ever going home before.”

Josh raised his eyebrows. “Surely you must have had a home somewhere.”

“Father was a schoolteacher. When I was small we often lived on the school grounds, or in the school itself. Perhaps if my mother had lived we would have had a real home, but after her death Father decided he had a calling to educate the Indians. We lived in a tepee with an Indian woman for a while. She was the mother of my half brother.”

“Is that why you killed Lily?” he asked without taking his eyes from the road. “Because you were jealous of her home?”

His words hit her like a face full of cold water. “I didn’t kill your wife, Mr. Daniels, and I’ve never seen your home. You will remember that it was at the house of your neighbor, Ruth Somers, that your wife went to her reward.”

Josh jerked the reins so abruptly that the team shied in confusion. “Death was never meant to be a reward to my wife. She was filled with life and vivacity.”

“Apparently everyone didn’t see her in quite the same light,” Meagan commented, positive that her words would be lost in Josh’s efforts to control the panicked horses.

Josh managed to quiet the animals. Then he turned to Meagan. “If we are to keep from leaping at each other’s throats, Miss Reilly, I suggest we keep our opinions regarding my wife’s death to ourselves. I believe you are responsible for her death, either deliberately or by accident.”

“And I believe you are a bigger fool than you look to be,” Meagan fired back.

“If I turn you back to the judge you will hang,” he threatened, though he knew the words to be beneath him.

“You need someone to work your land and tend your house and care for your daughter,” Meagan reminded him. “There are no single women within a hundred miles of here, and a man would want a full share for the work you’ll get from me for nothing. I don’t think you can afford to send me away.”

Josh’s jaw hardened, along with his heart. The girl was too damned smart for her own good. He did need help, and the presence of a woman who could cook and clean, as well as tend the livestock, would be a tremendous asset. “Very well, then,” he grumbled. “You will stay as long as you put in a fair day’s work. I don’t expect you to do any more than I do.”

“That sounds just,” she agreed.

“I am up an hour before dawn. You will be ready to help with the morning chores.”

Josh Daniels continued talking, but Meagan didn’t respond to his words. Her mind had traveled back in time to the days of her childhood. Life in the Indian village had been relaxed and carefree. As the only white child, she was looked upon as somewhat of a curiosity. The Indian children enjoyed teaching her their games and skills. Her father, a teacher, was a respected man in the tribe and his choice of taking one of their women as his wife was accepted with favour.

Then smallpox had all but wiped the tribe from the face of the earth. Even Meagan’s stepmother had died, but Meagan, her father and half brother were not touched by the sickness. The Indians—what few there were left—began to look upon them askance. Why had the white man and his children been spared?

The day the old chief died, James Reilly took his children and left the village. His wife and his credibility had gone before him, and it was prudent to move on. But while the Indians had been willing to accept and share their lives with the little white child, the white people were not willing to share their lives, or, for that matter, their towns, with a half-breed Indian boy and his family. And they certainly did not want the boy’s father teaching their children.

When Meagan was old enough she hired out, taking care of children and helping the women with their spring and fall housecleaning. After her father’s death Meagan’s brother decided to leave the world of the white man and return to his mother’s tribe. Having been educated by her father, Meagan was qualified to supply an education to the children of a household as well as carry her share of the work.

She had come to Banebridge hoping to obtain a permanent position teaching children. Her search had taken her into the wilderness where Ruth Somers had offered employment. During Meagan’s first week, Lily Daniels had pitched down the Somerses’ stairs. Meagan had run from the kitchen to help and was bending over the unfortunate woman when Ruth began screaming for her husband and accused Meagan of murder.

And now Meagan was going to a place that would be her home and her prison.

Meagan had always thought that someday she would have a man and a home of her own. Now that dream would never come to pass. Slaves didn’t have homes. Indentured servants weren’t allowed the freedom of choosing a husband. Her life was over before it had a chance to begin.

She closed her eyes and tried to squeeze out one more prayer for salvation, aware that the prayers with which she had barraged heaven over the past weeks had apparently fallen on deaf ears. Surely the Lord hadn’t received her messages, for he hadn’t taken the time to answer.

The horses, tired at the end of the day, slowed to little more than a walk as they pulled the heavily laden wagon up a steep hill.

Meagan wouldn’t have tried to jump from the wagon as they clipped along the road coming out of town, but now she might—if she could jump clear and somehow make her way through the woods to the Indian village where Reilly, her half brother, had gone.

As the horses crested the hill, Meagan threw herself from the wagon and ran for the woods. The air burned like fire in her lungs as she raced through the trees and across the streams.

Josh crashed through the brush behind her. Closer, ever closer, as Meagan’s breathing became increasingly shallow and the pain in her side caused her to favor her right leg.

Meagan was younger than her pursuer. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be able to outrun him. But his persistence defeated her, and in the end she looked back to see him less than ten feet behind. Then, she missed her footing and plunged down an embankment into the icy water below.

She could hear his ragged breathing even before he pulled her from the stream.

“What in the hell possessed you to do such a damn fool thing?” he asked as he set her on her feet.

She brushed a muddy hand across her face and tried to fight back the tears.

“If you were going to run away, why didn’t you run when you were closer to a settlement? There’s nothing out here. There’s no place to run. You wouldn’t last the week. If the Indians didn’t get you, the animals would.” He gave her a little push and marched stoically along beside her, his hand grasping the thick rope of hair that had fallen down her back. “I thought I was doin’ you a favor by keeping you from hanging. Are you crazy or something?”

He grumbled with each step he took and became more verbose as his breath returned right along with his anger.

But his fury was no match for hers. She was angry with him, angry with herself and angry at the world in general.

“No, Mr. Daniels, I’m not crazy. No more than you. I just don’t want to spend the rest of my life working as your slave.”

Josh stopped and turned the girl toward him. She was a sorry-looking sight, with her dripping clothes, muddy face and red-rimmed eyes.

“If you’ll remember, Miss Reilly, I didn’t ask for your indenture. And, I guess if it were me, I would have done the same thing. But I’m a man, and at least I would have had a chance of survival in the wilderness. You don’t! If I thought you did, I just might let you go and save us both a lot of grief.” He sighed as he realized she was shivering noticeably. “As it is, if I don’t get you warmed up, and quick, neither of us will have to worry about you ever being an indentured servant because you won’t live long enough for me to get you home.”

Again he nudged her forward. “Now get a move on. We’ll camp in the clearing near the wagon.”

Meagan did as she was told. She knew she had been foolish to try to run away, but even her senseless act did not affect her as much as did the words Josh had spoken in trying to quiet her as they walked back.

What sort of man was this who would actually admit that not only did he understand the reasoning behind what she had done, but in like circumstances, he would have done the same? She watched him from the corner of her eye, wondering what the outcome of her failed escape would ultimately be. But the expression on Josh Daniels’s face told her nothing, nor did the tone of his voice, which was flat and without emotion as he told her to gather kindling so he could get a fire started.

Before she could move away she heard him give a deep sigh, and with a look of resignation on his handsome face, he looped a rope around her waist, giving her several yards of slack before securing the other end about his own body.

Meagan was unable to suppress the sob that rose to her lips.

“What’s wrong now?” he demanded impatiently.

She lifted the rope in her hand. “Now I truly feel like a slave,” she replied.

Josh looked at Meagan. He looked at the rope and then he said, “So do I!”

* * *

With Meagan lashed to his belt, Josh managed to turn the horse out to graze, make a fire and distribute the last of the pemmican and bread between them. He then spread blankets on the ground and motioned Meagan to lie down on one of them while he stretched his body across the other.

“You can’t expect me to sleep there,” she squeaked as she realized his intention. “The judge specifically forbade us to sleep together.”

Josh looked at the girl. At first he thought she was trying to pull a fast one, but the concern on her face and the tears reflected in her eyes told him different.

“We’re not sleeping together. You have your blanket, I have mine. Now be quiet and go to sleep.” He handed her an extra blanket, but Meagan remained standing, unsure as to the exact meaning of Judge Osborne’s orders.

In pure exasperation, Josh gave the rope a tug and toppled the girl over onto him.

“Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat, you’re freezing!” He jumped to his feet, dragging her with him. “Get out of that wet dress,” he ordered. Then, seeing the look on her face, added, “You got something more to wear, don’t you?”

Meagan had other clothes, but she certainly couldn’t change into them while bound to this man’s belt like a partridge.

“You’ll have to untie me so I can change,” Meagan told him. “I can’t get my clothing off or on trussed up with this rope.”

Josh grumbled all the way to the wagon as they retrieved her bundle. The minute he untied Meagan he expected her to run. “Will you give me your word that you won’t try to escape again?”

Meagan’s eyes searched the shadows. The fact that she did not care to explore the dangers of the night reflected in her expression. “I won’t try to run away,” she promised.

“Very well.” He thrust the bundle of clothes into her arms and untied the noose about her waist. “If you try to run this time I’ll never believe another thing you say.”

“You haven’t believed anything up to now, so what’s the difference?” she asked aloud, but for some reason, there was a difference.

With all her worldly possessions in her arms, Meagan had actually given consideration to trying once more to escape. Nothing had seemed as devastating as spending the rest of her life in virtual slavery. But Josh’s threat never to believe her brought her up short.

It mattered that Josh should know he could believe her. It mattered that he might someday be willing to trust her, regardless of the circumstances that had thrust them together. “I told you I wouldn’t run away again,” she said defensively, and slipped behind the questionable protection of a small bush where she changed into dry clothing.

After spreading her dress near the warmth of the fire, Meagan realized that Josh had taken her at her word and spread her blankets on the side of the fire opposite his. With a grateful smile she lay down and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. Even with the warmth of the little fire the night was cool, and her teeth continued their incessant chattering no matter how she tried to silence them. The dress she wore was lightweight gingham and did little to protect her from the cold.

The tribulations of the previous weeks had taken their toll, and even though Meagan fell into a troubled sleep her thoughts would not allow her to rest.

As the night wore on a light rain began to fall. Josh cursed under his breath. Above the sounds of the night he could hear Meagan’s teeth chattering and the little sobs she emitted during her sleep.

Picking up his bedding, Josh got to his feet and went over to awaken the girl. “Come with me,” he ordered once she opened her eyes, her expression a mixture of bewilderment and dread.

Obediently Meagan followed, half dragging her damp blankets. Josh threw an oilcloth under the wagon and quickly spread his blanket over it. “Get under there.” He shoved her toward the wagon and she obeyed without argument.

Even when he joined her beneath the shelter of the wagon she did not speak. It never occurred to Josh that she had clamped her mouth closed so he would not hear her teeth chatter. But Meagan could not hold her mouth closed forever, and before she could be certain Josh was sleeping her teeth again began clacking in her mouth and her body shook so violently she could have sworn it shook the ground.

She felt the tears squeeze from her eyes and burn down her cheeks. Then a hand closed on her shoulder and rolled her onto her side.

Without a word Josh pressed her against the warmth of his body. Within minutes his body heat permeated her clothing, skin and bones. She wanted to object to the close proximity. She knew she should object, but his warmth was like a narcotic. The chill dissipated from her body, leaving it soft and pliable against his. Her whole being relaxed as she inhaled the scent of buckskin, brandy and man.

For the first time since the death of her father, Meagan was able to relax. Her fate had been decided for her. Her future laid out without any possibility of deviation. She might spend the rest of her life serving this man and his family, but she would never stop trying to prove her innocence. The very fact that she was to remain near the scene of Lily’s death gave her hope that someday she would find a way to clear her name.

She felt herself drifting off to sleep and forced herself to whisper drowsily, “The judge said we shouldn’t sleep together.”

Josh absently patted her arm. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’m not going to sleep.” And he knew it was true, because the sweet agony of again holding a woman’s soft body in his arms was enough to keep him from batting an eye—especially a woman who had caused his wife’s death. The memory would no doubt haunt him for many sleepless nights to come.

Chapter Two

They rose with the sun. After breaking their fast, Meagan gathered up her dress and climbed up onto the wagon seat where Josh waited. Without a word they started off down the rutted road toward their destination. But the day was all but spent when Josh finally drew Meagan from her reverie. “There it is,” he said.

Meagan’s eyes swept the valley below.

The land was rich and fertile. The green of the grass and trees was vibrant, and the earth black and rich.

Josh skillfully guided the horses along the narrow road, opened the gates and stopped the wagon between the house and the barn.

Meagan glanced around. The outbuildings consisted of a barn, chicken house, several covered stalls for animals, a smokehouse and outhouse. The double cabin was really two buildings connected by a dogtrot.

She wondered if Josh would actually make her stay in the barn as had been suggested before they left town. She glanced at him surreptitiously but he paid her little mind as he climbed from the seat of the wagon and started toward the house, every line of his body alert for whatever he might encounter.

He pulled the nails from the boards that held the doors and windows shut. Putting the nails in his pouch, he stacked the boards beneath the steps and turned to Meagan.

“Get yourself down from there,” he ordered. “Seems safe enough.”

“Safe from what?” Meagan asked as she clambered from the wagon and grabbed her belongings.

“Indians! What else?”

“Oh,” she scoffed. “Indians. I’ve never had any trouble with them.”

“Then you’ve never met Old Howling Dog.” Josh pushed the door open and went inside.

Meagan hesitated on the porch before following.

Josh didn’t bother to look at her as he threw open the shutters on the windows, allowing the fresh breeze to stir the dust in the room. “Indians aren’t going to ask who you are or whether you like them. They aren’t real happy that we’re living on their land. Old Howling Dog wants us gone, and I’m expecting him to make a move to try to see it happens real soon now.”

Meagan swallowed, her false bravado lost in the reality of his words. “I’ll keep my eyes open,” she managed, realizing for the first time the vast difference between what her life had been and what it would be now.

Without another word she took off her bonnet and surveyed her surroundings. A musty, cloying odor permeated the air and Meagan decided that perhaps sleeping in the barn wouldn’t be so bad after all.

There was a thin film of dust on the floor mingled with a sprinkling of mouse droppings. The room boasted a fireplace, bookshelves, wooden chest, two armchairs, a table and a desk. Near the window stood a little organ, and it was all Meagan could do to keep from crying out in joy over the discovery.

Before she could speak, Josh opened a small door on the far wall opposite the fireplace. Meagan followed more slowly. It seemed odd that a home could show so little sign of being lived in, for her trial had taken very little time, considering everything, and Josh couldn’t have been away long enough to account for this stuffiness.

She followed him, wondering how to ask about the room when she found herself on a little dogtrot. A second door opened onto the rear cabin, which Meagan had thought to be a shed since Josh had piled logs for the fire down the side.

She crowed with delight when she popped her head into the smaller room. This one was steeped with warmth from the sun and the spicy smell of life.

There was a fireplace with a cook oven built into the brick. Pots and pans, along with metal utensils and wooden basins, hung from the wall and were stacked neatly on the shelves.

A heavy wooden sink beckoned invitingly as Josh picked up a bucket and headed toward the stream some distance away.

The table was polished to a warm hue. The chairs were solid. A heavy blanket hung along one wall and when Meagan peeked behind it she saw two beds. In the far corner on the other side of the room there was a straw mattress covered with a knit shawl.

A chill ran through her body. It was almost as though Josh Daniels had been expecting to bring her back. But of course, that was ridiculous. He could not have known the judge would give such an order.

“Start a fire and get some water boiling. There’s cornmeal in the keg over by the dry sink.” He looked at her and took a deep breath. “You know how to make mush, don’t you?”

Meagan felt the color rise in her cheeks. “Yes, sir, I do.” She set her jaw and took the kettle from the hook.

“Fine, then make it.”

Josh went outside, unhitched the horses and set them loose in the pasture nearest the house as Meagan washed the pot. The fire was burning brightly when he stopped at the narrow back door.

“Good,” he said as he saw her progress. “I’m going to go down to the river and bring back the livestock.”

He caught her questioning look. “I drive them down there when I’m going to be gone a spell. There are good strong pens and the Indians aren’t likely to bother them there.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Meagan was aware that he hadn’t let her out of his sight for more than a few minutes.

“You goin’ to run?”

“No. What good would it do me?”

Josh nodded his head. “Wouldn’t be no help to either one of us,” he told her. “You got any questions before I leave?”

Megan’s eyes scanned the horizon. Her eyes lit on a thin spiral of smoke rising above the treetops some distance away. Was this evidence of Indians? Perhaps a neighbor. Perhaps it was someone who had not heard the accusations and would judge Meagan for herself, not condemn her because of a vindictive woman’s lies. Meagan tried to smother the hope that sprang up within her.

“What is that smoke in the distance?” she asked.

“That’s from the chimney of my nearest neighbors, Rafe and Ruth Somers.” Without looking back Josh went out the door and through the yard toward the river.

The hope fluttered and died in Meagan’s heart. It was bad enough being the slave of a man who hated her for something she hadn’t done, but having as her nearest neighbor the woman whose testimony had brought her to such dire straits was the last straw.

Meagan measured the cornmeal and water into the pot, put it on the crane and swung it over the fire. There had to be a way to prove her innocence, and somehow she was going to find it, or die trying.

Much to Meagan’s dismay, it wasn’t long before Ruth Somers made her way to the Daniels cabin.

Ruth was a short woman, with a body that reminded Meagan of the masthead on a ship, full-figured and solid. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight bun on the back of her head. Her eyes gleamed with malevolence as she swept from her wagon and advanced on the house.

Meagan didn’t want to face the woman and took as much time as possible before going to the door. It was obvious that Ruth Somers was familiar with the living arrangements of the Daniels house because she bypassed the parlor and went directly to the door at the far end of the dogtrot, where she hammered her fist against the heavy boards, demanding admission.

Reluctantly Meagan opened the door and faced her nemesis. She didn’t speak, but Ruth Somers did.

“So, you haven’t run away after all. I was about to go to the fort and set up the hue and cry.” She swept past Meagan into the room.

“I’m sure that would have given you a great deal of satisfaction,” Meagan commented.

“It would also have made you look like a fool.” Josh’s voice suddenly rang through the room.

Ruth swung around at the sound of his voice. Her haughty attitude diminished somewhat in his presence. As a woman with a dominant and volatile husband, Ruth knew her place where men were concerned.

“Josh, I thought you’d be out working the land,” she managed.

“And so you came to intimidate my servant, is that it?”

“I simply dropped by to make sure the girl was doing her job and hadn’t poisoned you with her cooking, or stabbed you in your sleep,” Ruth protested, but the words were said with a brittle smile.

Josh went to stand near the hearth where a pot of stew simmered on the hob. He wondered why he was standing up for Meagan against his wife’s friend.

Without being asked, Ruth sat down beside the table. “I’ll have a cup of tea.” She tossed the words at Meagan, who cast a quick glance toward Josh before taking the water kettle from the back of the fire. “Now, what did you mean when you said I would look like a fool?” She folded her hands over her belly and leaned back in the chair, looking like a well-dressed beetle.

Josh softened his attitude toward the portly little woman. After all, Ruth had been Lily’s best friend. It was to be expected that the woman would wreak vengeance on the person she deemed responsible for Lily’s death.

“Meagan often works the fields with me. Sometimes we’re away from the house from dawn till dusk.”

Ruth gave a derisive sniff. “That will all end when little Abigail returns, I assume. Although I wouldn’t allow an indentured felon the care of one of my children.”

Meagan literally bit her tongue to keep from saying that had it not been for Ruth Somers, she wouldn’t have been convicted in the first place. She longed to ask the woman why she had made such wild accusations and was almost ready to do so when Josh guessed her intent and shook his head, silently warning Meagan to be silent.

Ruth was oblivious to the whole situation and continued her harangue regarding the return of Josh’s little daughter.

“I think you should let the child come and stay with me. I could give her a good home and a warm and natural family life. She’d even have children of her own age to play with.” Ruth warmed to her theme, throwing her sons into the bargain. “Far better off with me than living in her father’s house with a murderess.”

“Abbie won’t come back until the end of the summer. By that time most of the work will be done and I will be here in the house to keep an eye on things.” And then he asked what Meagan had not dared to. “Why are you so hostile toward Meagan? You admitted that you hardly knew the girl when you took her to your home, and that you had thought to hire her permanently if she had shown herself to be a good worker.”

Ruth dabbed her eyes with a wisp of linen. “The girl caused the death of my friend. What’s more, she did so in my home. I cannot abide the sight of her.” She glared in Meagan’s direction.

“Then turn your back, Ruth, because I’m afraid that as long as she causes me no trouble, Meagan is here to stay.”

“I’d be more than willing to speak to Judge Osborne,” Ruth offered. “Perhaps I could talk him into hanging her instead of leaving you saddled with a criminal for the rest of your life.”

The teacup rattled against the saucer as Meagan placed it on the table. She took a deep breath. The hatred and something more that she couldn’t name emanated from the guest. How she wished that Josh would say something more on her behalf, but he only shrugged his shoulders. Perhaps he felt the same way and managed better to contain his anger and his hatred for his indentured servant. Meagan had no way of knowing. Surely his demeanor toward her had been clipped and abrupt as he had given orders as to what he expected done about the house.

Meagan had done what she could to avoid making Josh repeat his instructions, and only asked questions when she did not fully comprehend what he had said. He had no quarrel with her work or her willingness, and she knew it. However, he apparently had little compassion for her plight, for rather than refute Ruth’s suggestion about having Meagan hanged, he simply went on talking about the crops and the livestock and then to ask about her husband, Rafe.

A pot of tea later, Ruth prepared to leave.

Josh helped the woman into her wagon and held the reins as she arranged her ample posterior across the seat. “I want you to know that should there be any question of Abbie’s safety I will expect you to bring her to me right away. And see that you remember,” she admonished as she wagged her finger at him, clucked to the horses and was on her way.

Josh started back toward the house where Meagan stood framed in the doorway.

“Now what do you suppose that was all about?” they said in unison. And, realizing what they had done, their laughter, also in unison, echoed over the little valley.

A short distance down the road Ruth Somers caught the sound and pulled her horse to a halt to listen. Of course, she couldn’t be sure it was laughter she heard, but Meagan was attractive and Josh was still young. She would have to keep an eye on them. After all, Judge Osborne had said that should Meagan Reilly seduce Josh or, most likely any other man, it would mean the hangman’s tree for her.

Yes, Ruth would have to keep her eyes open, but more than that, she would have to make sure she kept her own husband far away from the Daniels household. For the girl was young and pretty, and Rafe Somers was only a man.

Life in the Daniels house had fallen quite easily into place. Josh was not a vindictive man, and while he resented the girl’s presence to a certain degree, he could not deny that her willingness to work and make the best of a bad situation had made life a great deal easier for him. He often wondered what she was thinking as her great dark eyes followed him. She could be spunky, as he had discovered on their trip home from Banebridge. Josh saw no reason to make the situation any more difficult for either of them, so he did not question her any further about her part in Lily’s death. Instead, he went about his own business and made sure she tended to hers.

It had not taken Meagan long to discover that the cozy little room at the back of the house was the hub of the home. The front room had apparently been used only on special occasions. She dreaded going into the musty shadows to sleep even though it had the best feather bed in the house.

She lay stiffly on the bed, jumping at every creak and snap of the night-filled house. She dared not say a word about her nervousness, for Josh would surely believe her fears were caused by a guilty conscience rather than her inherent fear of being alone in the dark. A fear she had not been able to outgrow since childhood.

The only thing she feared worse was a storm. The apex of her fears struck before the week was out.

The wind was already moaning through the trees when she hurried across the little dogtrot and closed the door. The room was tight and sound. She would close her ears to the storm and pull the blankets up over her head and go to sleep, she promised herself.

Meagan pulled the blankets up, but the wind whined and sobbed, and then began lashing the house when it failed to disturb the human creatures who dared build a house in its domain.

For all Meagan’s promises she found her eyes wide open and her hands clenched against the feather bed. The wind and rain continued to strike the house. Tree branches bent and cracked as they whipped the house in fury. The wind seemed to come from all sides as it fought to find a chink in the walls. At the height of the storm Meagan heard the sound.

It groaned through the room. First one note, then two, and finally a full chord resounding in ghostly pleasure above the storm.

Meagan leaped from the bed. She stood in the middle of the floor as the lightning lit the night in unearthly splendor. The sound faded as Meagan backed toward the door, her eyes locked on the area where she knew the organ to be.

Once again the notes began, increasing in intensity until they drowned out even the wind. As they reached their highest intensity Meagan gave a yelp and dashed into the night.

Many times she had heard the Indians speak of the souls of the dead who found no peace and walked the earth during the storms. And though she knew no guilt in Lily’s death, she had been forced by the living to assume the blame, and she wasn’t about to see what punishment the dead might conceive.

The rain blew against her with full fury as she threw herself against the door to the room in which Josh slept. Her fingers slipped from the wet latch. She beat against the wood.

“Josh! Josh! Let me in!” she screamed. She rattled the useless latch as she hollered and banged, aware that the organ continued to sound out its ghastly melody.

“What in the hell is going on here?”

The door burst open against her pounding hands, and Meagan fell into Josh Daniels’s arms. She could feel the smooth warmth of his skin against her hands and buried her face against his chest to try to escape the sound that seemed to follow her. She felt his hand press ever so gently against her head, stroking her hair as though she were a frightened child. His other hand rested on her back, firmly, holding her against him as she relished the warmth and safety she knew when he enfolded her. The hair on his chest brushed her cheek and tickled her nose but she only burrowed closer, desperately trying to shut out the terror of the night. Her sobs quieted and she fought to gain control of herself, to curb her childish fears. She longed to stay with him as she had the night they had spent under the wagon, but she would be happy to sleep next to the fireplace in the kitchen if he was nearby to fend off the fearsome sounds of the night. But it was not to be, for although Meagan found safety in the arms of Josh Daniels’s, his reaction to Meagan was the exact opposite.

The lightning brightened the night and he could see the tears of terror on her face. “What is it?” he asked more gently.

“The organ…someone’s playing the organ. I heard them.”

“Nobody ever played that thing except Lily,” Josh said in exasperation. “What you heard was the wind.”

He wanted to push her away from him. He wanted to separate himself from the vibrant body that molded its lush, young curves against him. He wanted the cool softness as far away as possible before the spark dared to ignite and destroy them both. He could feel her face against his chest. Her hand brushed his taut nipple before her face burrowed into his chest.

He stroked her hair hoping to comfort her and restore her self-confidence so that he could put her from him and send her back to her room.

She trembled and he felt her legs wobble. He pressed her more closely against him, taking deep breaths, willing his body not to notice that her breasts had warmed and were burning orbs of fire against his naked chest. His hand slipped down her back, following the curves of her body, tracing them ever so gently but in a way he knew he would never be able to forget.

How could a man forget the resiliency of her skin, which was even more exciting through the thin, wet material of her cotton nightdress? How could a man forget the touch of her breath against his skin, heated with promise forever unfulfilled?

She sagged in his arms as her fear began to leave her. He moved to hold her weight and his leg was suddenly encased between the heat of her thighs. His head swam with desire. His blood pounded above the sound of the storm as it raced through his body, erasing the threat of punishment, any hope of reason or memory of decency in the headlong sweep of passion.

Oh, God, it had been so long since he had burned for a woman, and never, never as he did in this moment, with this woman whose body was like a torch that ignited his whole being. Blood surged through him, blocking out the ability to think. He didn’t want to think. He only wanted to feel. To feel her, to know her, to become part of her and to hear her cry out in her passion for him as she cried out for his comfort against her fears.

Her fears! If she feared the sounds of the storm, how much more greatly would she fear the gallows tree? And he would bring her to it, to be faced alone by the sick desire of a man for the murderer of his own wife.

With his last ounce of resolve, and dredging the depths of his soul for hard-held decency, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her from him.

He looked down into her face, taking in her eyes wet with tears, her cheeks flushed with fear and her lips parted, begging to be kissed. His body throbbed with his need for her. Were it not for the judge’s order, Meagan would be his, now, right here on the dogtrot, and again on the bed, and…

God in heaven, he was going mad. She was driving him wild. The whole situation was too much to bear, and if he could get his hands on Harvey Osborne he’d tear him limb from limb for imposing such an impossible sentence on a heretofore law-abiding, God-fearing man.

“I don’t hear anything,” he managed. And the Lord knew that was the truth. The blood was pounding so loudly in his head he couldn’t have heard a full-fledged Indian attack.

He took a few steps down the dogtrot, dragging the reluctant Meagan with him.

“Somebody was playing the organ,” Meagan gasped. “I heard it.”

“You heard the wind in the trees,” he assured her. “Now go on back to bed. We’ll have a long day tomorrow cleaning up after this storm.”

He shoved her inside the room and closed the door, desperate to put as much distance between them as possible.

Meagan started toward the bed, but before she reached it she heard the first note begin to swell.

This time she hit the door full tilt and stood shivering in the middle of the dogtrot. It would do no good to appeal to Josh. It was obvious he wanted as little to do with her as possible. Ignoring the pounding rain, she ran out into the storm.

Josh lay back on his bed and closed his eyes. He shut out the storm and the vision of Meagan’s face as she had looked into his eyes…into his soul.

He could still feel her flesh against his hands, cool and firm. His body ached to hold her again. He longed to go to her, to ease her childish fears of noises in the night. But he knew he did not dare. He would shut her from his mind, and in the light of day the night’s desires would evaporate like the shadows.

He forced himself to concentrate on the chores that would need to be done after a storm of this magnitude. There was always damage from the rain. The streams would be up and the trees down. They would have their work cut out for them for some days to come unless he missed his guess.

He took deep breaths as he mentally listed the tools he would need. His heart had stopped slamming against his chest as some semblance of sanity returned. He welcomed the relief sleep offered and allowed himself to drift on the edge of slumber until a persistent banging caught his attention.

Irritated, he pulled the pillow around his ears. He did not want to leave his bed again, but the pounding did not cease.

At first he thought it might be Meagan hammering at the door for admittance, but as awareness became prevalent he realized the sound was too distant. There was a hesitation but just as he relaxed it began again. Something had broken loose and was banging against the house.

He rolled over and sat on the side of the bed. Josh had to see what had happened and if it could be curbed before it did more damage. He pulled on his breeches and opened the door. The storm still raged, but Josh saw immediately the source of the sound.

With a curse, he crossed the dogtrot to where the door to Meagan’s room swung back and forth in the wind. It didn’t take him long to make sure that he was correct in his assumption. The room was empty. Meagan was gone.

Chapter Three

“From now on you can sleep behind the curtain in the larger bed,” Josh told Meagan the next morning as he sat drinking coffee and resting his head in his hand, his eyes bleary with lack of sleep. “I’ll take the cot out here.”

He’d searched half the night, believing that she had run away. Expecting with every step he took to find her lying dead in the mud and rain. Blaming himself for not having more control of himself and sending the frightened girl to face her fears alone when she had come to him for help.

The rain had disappeared with the night, and as the watery sun fought its way through the tops of the trees, Josh had wearily made his way to the barn. The cow had to be milked and the chores done. He’d never tell her how relieved he was when he saw her curled up under a blanket in the hay. He’d never admit that he stood there and just feasted his eyes on her as she slept in exhausted innocence. But he would never allow himself to forget that he had promised the good Lord that if he found her safe he’d never take another chance on being alone with her in a situation that might lead to dishonor and death.

And so, in the dim light of morning he burned her sleeping image into his mind and his heart, knowing he would never again dare hold her in his arms.

Even now, in the broad light of day, with the homey sounds and smells of breakfast surrounding them, Josh could hardly bear the pain of denial. He fought to keep his mind on his grits and eggs and off the woman who had prepared them.

“I don’t mind sleeping in the barn,” she was saying. “Besides, I have to get up early and start breakfast and…”

He shook his head. “There’s no need,” he told her. “I’m used to rising before anyone else is up. Lily was never one to rise with the sun. It takes me a bit to get myself together.” He paused and gave the matter some thought. “In fact, I’d be more comfortable if you didn’t bother to get up at the first crack of dawn. I’ll go out and start the chores. You can make breakfast, and have it ready when I come in. After that we’ll both start our day.”

Meagan nodded in agreement. But before she could speak he added, “And you will sleep behind the curtain.”

The blanket that separated them was adequate, and while Meagan was sure that Josh could not see through it to where she slept, Meagan was able to see him outlined against the light of the fire as he pulled his shirt over his head and got ready for bed.

The night was warm, and Meagan knew that sleeping near the fire must be uncomfortable. But it was his choice. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. It seemed but a few minutes when she was awakened by a sound.

Through a chink in the curtain she could see Josh moving around the room. He stirred the fire and swung the hob with the kettle on it over the flame. She realized it must be morning and was about to get up when she remembered his instruction. Silently she lay back on the bed, but sleep would not come and she found herself watching Josh as he moved about the room.

She followed the movement of his body as the light of the flames touched his chest and arms, his rippling muscles, flat belly and smooth skin that looked so warm and delicious in the firelight. She closed her eyes. The very fact that she dared allow such thoughts to exist was dangerous, if not life-threatening in her situation.

But her eyes would not stay shut. They devoured the man with a mind of their own, and she forgot even to breathe as he placed a basin on the table and washed his face and chest.

The firelight caught the droplets of water that clung to the golden hair across his chest. Like tiny jewels, the water tempted her. She felt the urge to run her fingers through his hair and take the water onto her own skin, still warm from his.

The thought made her squirm. The rope tether that cradled the mattress on the frame of the bed gave a muted groan and Josh looked toward the curtain, but Meagan had rolled over and pulled the comforter over her head in an effort to smother the shameful thoughts proximity with this man had placed in her mind.

She allowed herself the painful pleasure of remembering the feeling of warmth and security she had known when Josh had taken her into his arms that night as she lay shivering beneath the wagon. She had tried to forget. Heaven knew, she had tried to put the whole thing out of her mind. And, for the most part she had done so. It wasn’t her mind that refused to obey. It was her body. Her sinful body remembered every moment, every touch, every bit of wonderful warmth that seeped through the barriers between them and melted her heart and her soul.

How she wished she had met Josh under other circumstances. How she longed to have him look at her ‘ without the glimmer of sorrow in his eyes, and the accusation in his heart that was forever between them. And yet, she realized that his wife would have stood between them, alive or dead. According to all that Josh believed, had it not been for Meagan, his wife would still be alive. Meagan could not help but wonder how things might have played out had she been far away from the Somers household the day Lily fell down the stairs, and what Josh’s opinion of Meagan Reilly might have been if she had been introduced to the new widower as an eligible woman. But fate had dealt her a lethal blow and, try as she might, she could not resign herself to it.

Meagan blinked back the tears. She had waited all her life for such a man, and now she would never dare look further than serving as his slave for the rest of her life. Yet, she had begun to realize that even living as his servant was better than living without him.

She would work for him. She would work with him, and she would work harder than she had ever worked in her life. Perhaps then, as her reward for her toils, she could fall into a sleep that carried no dreams of life with—or without—Josh Daniels.

She heard the bar lift on the door. There was a swish of air through the cabin and she knew Josh was gone. With her vow in the forefront of her mind, Meagan dressed for the day and went to start breakfast.

As the summer heat gave way to the crisp mornings of fall the lives of Meagan and Josh began to assume a pattern of cautious camaraderie. Together they tended the land and the animals, rejoicing in the harvest and the abundance their toils had produced. Josh could find little fault with Meagan. When he chose to carry on a conversation with her he found her informed and intelligent. Without intending, Josh found himself asking her advice and listening to her opinion.

With the end of summer came the time for Josh’s daughter, Abbie, to return.

It was Will Carmichael who would retrieve the little girl from her grandparents. He stopped at the Daniels farm to tell Josh that he was planning a trip to Albany and would pick up the child on his way back.

“You had some reservations about leaving Abbie with Meagan when she first came to live with you,” Will reminded him. “Have those been resolved?”

“Meagan’s a right smart young woman. Has a lot of book learning. She’s going to be able to teach Abbie a lot of things I couldn’t,” Josh said. “I can’t fault her.”

If there was any fault to be had it was within Josh himself. He found himself listening for the sound of her voice as she sang while she hung out the laundry or called out to the chickens and ducks as she fed them. He would hurry in from the fields, embellish his accounts of little things that happened during the day to make her laugh and hold his breath at night to hear her gentle breathing behind the curtain across the room. But all these things were locked tight in his heart and he did not share them with his friend, although Will stood waiting for Josh to continue.

The silence lengthened until finally Josh added, “I’m sure that Meagan will get along nicely with Abbie and with the winter coming on I’ll be around the cabin most of the time. If there is any problem I’ll know about it.”

Will nodded. “That will be best,” he agreed, cutting short his own thoughts as he became aware from his friend’s expression that Josh had something more to say. “What is it, Josh?” he asked. “Has Meagan done something to upset you?”

“Other than being prone to accidents, and afraid of the dark, she seems fine,” Josh admitted.

“Accident-prone?”

“Just little things, mostly,” Josh said as he thought back. “Except for the other day when the big cast-iron pot we make the soap in fell off the shelf and darn near knocked her head off.”

“What was a soap cauldron doing on a shelf in the first place?” Will asked.

“Danged if I know.” Josh gave it some thought. “Never saw it up there before, but it was sure there that day. On the shelf right above the washtub.”

“Is Meagan all right?”

“She managed to jump out of the way, but it about scared the life out of me. She seemed to take the whole thing in stride.” There was a hint of approval in Josh’s voice as he spoke of the incident that wasn’t wasted on Will Carmichael.

“Is that all?” Will asked.

“Well, that and the night Meagan thought the organ was haunted.”

“The organ? The one in the parlor?” Will reiterated.

“That’s the one,” Josh admitted. “She was sleeping in there on the daybed and swore she heard it playing in the middle of the night. The girl’s got a real good imagination. Guess she was afraid of the rainstorm and didn’t want to admit it.”

“Does it happen often?” Will was playing for time. He had wondered where the girl slept and was fairly certain it wasn’t the barn. He wondered if he should remind Josh of the judge’s warning. For that matter, he had been wondering if she should warn Meagan, but since they slept in separate buildings he needn’t worry. He gave a sigh of satisfied relief as Josh answered his question.

“It won’t happen anymore. She stays in here with me and sleeps behind the blanket there.”

That did it! The time had come to speak out. “You remember what Judge Osborne said.”

“I remember.” Josh didn’t bother to hide the resentment in his voice, and Will didn’t know whether to bless the judge, or blast him to hell.

“Besides, it isn’t Meagan that worries me—” Josh wiped the back of his neck with his hanky “—it’s Ruth Somers.”

“Has she heard the organ playing too?” Will asked innocently.

Josh gave his friend a dirty look and continued. “Ruth stops by here right often. A bit too often, if you ask me. It was different when Lily was alive. Lily enjoyed entertaining and couldn’t seem to get enough of it, but with both Meagan and me off in the fields it’s kinda unnerving to come home and find Ruth sittin’ here waiting.”

“What does she want?”

“Far as I can see she just wants to make trouble. She says she wants to make sure Meagan is doing her job and hasn’t run off, but she’s sure got a funny way of doing it. Guess I kind of resent Ruth playing God as far as Meagan’s concerned.” Josh rubbed his neck again. “You don’t suppose she knew the girl from somewhere before, do you?”

“I wouldn’t know where it could be, but I’ll surely see what I can find out.”

“That will be fine,” Josh agreed. “I doubt that there’s anything to it, but it just doesn’t make sense that a woman could harbor so much hatred toward another. Seems like it should almost be the other way around. I mean, if what Meagan claims is true, she should be mad at Ruth for getting her convicted for something she says she didn’t do.”

Will could hardly avoid showing the satisfaction he felt on hearing Josh’s words, because Will had never believed Meagan was guilty of the crime. He had expressed his opinion openly until it became obvious that championing Meagan was costing him clients among the women who liked and believed in the stalwart Ruth Somers. Ruth was one of the cornerstones of the widespread community and given a great deal of credibility by the other members.

“I’ll let you know if I learn anything,” Will promised. “Ruth has always been something of a busybody.”

“It’s just that she seems to have a real mean streak when it comes to Meagan and I don’t want the woman hanging over our heads like a nesting vulture when Abbie comes home.”

The comparison of Ruth to a vulture caused Will to burst into laughter. Josh joined him and they were both in the throes of jocularity when Meagan joined them.

“Is it a private joke?” she asked.

Josh wiped his eyes. “We were just talking about Ruth Somers.”

“There must be something I missed about the woman,” Meagan said in confusion, “because I swear I’ve yet to see anything funny about her.”

This sent the men into another gale of laughter. Exasperated, Meagan started back toward the house. “I’ll get you both something to eat. Unless I miss my guess, you’ve already had enough corn whiskey.”

“Do you think we should tell her?” Will asked as the door closed.

“No use worrying Meagan over something she can’t do anything about. Ruth hates her, and that’s a fact. And I don’t think anyone but Ruth knows why.”

“Well, we’ll see what we can find out,” Will promised as he followed Josh back to the house where the scent of fragrant stew permeated the air.

Abbie Daniels proved to be a very precocious little girl, with a sharp mind and insatiable curiosity. However, she could not be described as a beautiful child.

Meagan liked children, and Abbie was no exception. But to say that the child’s appearance came as somewhat of a shock would be an understatement.

Having lived in close proximity with Josh Daniels for the better part of the summer, Meagan recognized the fact that he would be considered a handsome man. His features were strong and even. Nothing about him seemed out of proportion.

Meagan was the first to admit that she had not seen Lily Daniels at her best; still, Lily had been a woman who, even in death, had held exceptional beauty. So Meagan was prepared to welcome an attractive child.

To her amazement, the little girl was small for her age, with a pensive, intelligent face. Otherwise her features were unexceptional. Her hair was pulled back so tightly her eyebrows looked to be permanently raised above her blue-gray eyes. But it wasn’t until the child removed her bonnet that Meagan realized she was indeed faced with a challenge.

The afternoon was warm and while Josh and Will talked on the dogtrot, Meagan, Abbie and Will’s wife, Phoebe, went into the house.

Meagan was happy to see the woman who had given her shelter during the time before and during her trial. Phoebe had been a bulwark against adversity and despair, and Meagan was pleased that she had come to help break the ice with Josh’s daughter.

“Are you the new hired girl?” Abbie asked bluntly.

“You could call me that.” Meagan caught Phoebe’s eye and gave a sigh of relief. Obviously the child hadn’t been apprised of Meagan’s true situation. “Actually I am going to be helping you with your lessons as well as helping your father with his work.”

“That’s good.” The child nodded. “Papa needs help sometimes and I’m too small.” She poked around the room as Meagan prepared tea. She peered, prodded and finally decided that there had been no major changes of which she didn’t approve.

Phoebe was telling Meagan about the trip she and Will had taken to Albany when Abbie settled herself at the table.

“Would you like some tea?” Meagan asked as the little girl looked at her expectantly.

“I’d rather have buttermilk,” Abbie told her.

“There’s some in the ice house,” Meagan replied. “Can you carry the pitcher by yourself?”

“Of course,” Abbie said importantly as she dashed out of the room.

Meagan watched the child from the window, making certain she was able to manipulate the heavy door that Josh had built to keep in the cold. A few minutes later, Abbie returned. She placed the pitcher on the table and brushed the perspiration from her forehead.

“It’s warm today, isn’t it?” Meagan remarked as she poured the thick liquid into a cup. “Why don’t you take off your bonnet? There’s no need to wear it in the house.”

Phoebe uttered a gasp of protest, or perhaps it was a warning. Regardless, it came too late, for the child pulled the ribbons of her heavy cotton bonnet, jerked it from her head and handed it to Meagan. Then Abbie lifted the cup of buttermilk to her mouth, closed her eyes and began to drink.

Meagan’s hand went to her lips as she saw the reason why the child wore the heavy bonnet, for Abbie’s ears stuck out on either side of her head like two foreign appendages.

Before the child finished her drink, Meagan turned away, denying the child any glimpse of her face.

“Why don’t you go and see if your father wants some buttermilk?” Meagan suggested.

Abbie wiped her mouth on her forearm and ran out the door. Meagan turned to Phoebe.

“Why didn’t someone tell me?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, Meagan,” Phoebe apologized. “I just assumed that Josh would tell you about Abbie’s…ears. It didn’t occur to me that you didn’t know until you told her to remove her bonnet.”

“Does she wear a bonnet all the time?” Meagan asked, her heart going out to the little girl.

“I’ve seldom seen her without one.” Phoebe fiddled with her teacup. “Lily thought it was a hopeless case. The only thing the doctors could suggest was to keep tight-fitting bonnets on Abbie’s head and hope her ears would somehow benefit from the pressure.” She shook her head. “I don’t think it helped a bit, but Josh has always insisted she wear them.”

Before Phoebe could continue, Josh appeared at the door. “Come along, honey,” he urged, “I’ll help you get your bonnet back on.” He gave Meagan a wilting look. “Abbie always wears her bonnets, Meagan,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Day and night.”

“I understand,” Meagan said quietly. She wanted to shout at him that he hadn’t told her and she had no way of knowing about his daughter’s “affliction.” Then she saw the anguish in his eyes and held her peace.

Josh tied the ribbon under his daughter’s chin. “There! Now you look like Abbie again.” He grinned and tweaked her nose before his smoldering gaze fell again on Meagan.

“Abbie again…Abbie again…” The little girl danced about the room, basking in her father’s approval. She stopped in front of Meagan. “I have lots of bonnets,” she told her. “I’ll show them to you if you like.”

“I’d like that very much.” Meagan smiled, aware that the child had made the first gesture of acceptance. She looked at Phoebe, expecting approval, but there was only a little worried frown that creased Phoebe’s forehead.

It was obvious to Phoebe that Josh Daniels could not keep his eyes off his indentured servant, just as it was obvious that Meagan was unaware of the explosiveness of the problem.

The Carmichaels spent the night, using the trundle on the daybed. The morning mist had not yet faded when they made their farewells.

“If you need us, let us know,” Phoebe said as she impulsively embraced Meagan. “We’ll find some way to come to you.”

And before Meagan could ask what she meant, the woman allowed her husband to help her into their buggy. As they were leaving, Meagan stared after them, wondering what had prompted the woman’s words.

It wasn’t long before Abbie had reestablished her place in her own home and Meagan found herself hardpressed to keep up with the little girl.

“My mama never made me tell her where I was going,” she protested as Meagan brought her in from an impromptu trip to the barn.

“Abbie, you need to tell someone. Your father worries when he comes in and doesn’t know where you are. He is working the fields all alone right now, and if you refuse to tell me where you are going, I am going to go back into the fields to help him and you’ll have to come along, whether you want to or not.”

“Well, I don’t want to go with you,” Abbie protested. “And I don’t want to tell you where I go. My mama never made me do anything like that.”

“Your mama never made you do anything you didn’t want to do.” Josh’s voice boomed. “But your mama isn’t here. Meagan and I are. And you’re gonna tell one of us where you’re going, or you are not going to go.”

Abbie put her hands on her hips, a vision of indignation, but there was no submission in her father’s face. He wasn’t going to change his mind no matter what she tried. Abbie surrendered to authority. “I’ll tell you or Meagan, but then I’m going to go where I like,” she asserted.

“Only if you have permission,” her father reminded her.

The little girl turned on her heel and marched out the door. She hadn’t left the porch when her father called after her, “Abbie! Where are you going?”

“I’m going back to the barn.”

“Do you have permission?”

She stopped.

“You know where I want to go,” she fired defiantly.

“And you know you’re supposed to ask for permission,” he said again.

“My mama never had to answer to anybody when she wanted to go somewhere,” Abbie shouted at her father.

Angered at the defiance in his daughter, Josh spoke rashly. “Maybe if she had she wouldn’t be dead now.”

His words brought a simultaneous gasp from the lips of both his daughter and Meagan. Before he had a chance to utter another sound, Abbie ran back through the door of the house and burrowed herself into her bed behind the curtain.

Josh did not try to talk to her. He looked at Meagan and shrugged before returning to the fields. It was Meagan who went to the child.

“I guess you pretty much had the run of the place when your mama was alive,” Meagan remarked as she took her place on the side of the bed.

“Mama knew I wouldn’t get into any trouble.” Abbie sniffled into her pillow.

“Your father knows you aren’t going to get into any trouble,” Meagan told her. “It’s just that he wants to know where you are. I don’t think he really knew how much freedom your mother was giving you around here. I tell him where I’m going so he won’t worry, and he does the same for me.”

The little girl lifted her head and looked at the young woman. “Is that because you love him?” she asked.

Meagan was taken aback. Loving Josh Daniels was the last thing in the world she would ever dare admit to, even if it was true, which of course it was not. It would be foolhardy to love someone who could never love you back.

“That’s because it’s the best way to do things when people live out here,” she said. “What if there was a fire, or an Indian attack, and your father didn’t have any idea where you were?”

“He never knew where my mama went, or what she was doing, and nothing bad ever happened.” Abbie sat up and crossed her arms over her chest.

Meagan stood up, her back toward the girl as she straightened some of the articles on the chest of drawers. “Well, that’s not quite the way I’d look at it.”

Realizing her mistake, Abbie was about to try to retract her words, but the look on Meagan’s face told her she wouldn’t get away with it.

“All right.” Abbie scuffed her foot under the rag rug beside the bed, “I’ll tell you or Papa where I’m going. But I’m not going to like it.”

“Abbie, life is just full of things we don’t like,” Meagan told her. “It’s all part of growing up.”

Abbie jumped off the bed and looked down her body at the distance to her feet. “Do you think I’m growing up?” she asked.

“I think you’re growing up faster than you know,” Meagan told her.

“My grandma called me her baby all the time,” Abbie admitted. “It didn’t make me feel grown-up.”

“I think grandmas are allowed to say things like that because they are so much older than everybody else,” Meagan confided. “I guess everyone seems like a baby to them.”

Abbie’s face brightened. “I guess I can be Grandma’s baby as long as I can be grown-up here at home.” She gave an assertive nod as she threw back the curtains and headed once more for the door.

“Abbie,” Meagan called out, “just remember, you have to earn the right to be treated like an adult, and the first thing you must remember to do is—”

“Tell you where I’m going.” Abbie finished the sentence for her and sighed a deep sigh. “I’m going to the barn to look for baby kittens. The cat has babies every spring and fall.” The little girl stopped, a new thought springing to her mind. “Do you know where they are?”

Meagan wiped her hands on her apron. “As a matter of fact, I do. There are five and they’re about a month old. If you like, we can bring one into the house and keep it for your very own.”

Abbie flew across the floor and grabbed Meagan’s hand. “Come on,” she urged. “Let’s go now! Why didn’t you tell me you knew there were kittens? If you had, we wouldn’t have had all this trouble.”

Meagan stifled a laugh. “Why didn’t you tell me kittens were what you were looking for?”

“I thought if I told you, you wouldn’t let me go. My mama always said kittens were dirty, sneaky little things and she didn’t want me to play with them. One time when I showed her where they were she took the kittens out of the barn and put them in a bucket of water.”

Meagan knew drowning kittens was a common practice, but she couldn’t help but give a little gasp of disapproval. “What did you do?” she asked, wondering if the child had cried over the loss of her treasures.

Abbie swung Meagan’s hand as they crossed the yard. “I waited until Mama had gone into the house to lie down and then I ran back and took them out of the water and laid them in the sun. As soon as they dried out, all but one of them came back to life. Mama never even noticed and Papa never knew.”

“Well, I don’t think we should trouble your father about it now,” Meagan said, and the little girl cast her a look encompassing friendship and trust that, given a chance, could last a lifetime.

Chapter Four

Much to Abbie’s disappointment the kittens proved to be too young to leave their mother, but the child was allowed to visit them often. She was returning from one of her little sojourns to the haymow when Ruth Somers stopped her.

“What are you doing out here alone?” the woman demanded. “Isn’t anyone around to take care of you?”

“I was up in the haymow playing with my kitten,” the little girl told her.

“Why wasn’t someone with you?” Ruth demanded.

Abbie backed away, anxious to be free of the woman’s persistent questioning. “Usually Meagan comes with me, but she’s churning right now.”

“Nonetheless, you shouldn’t go wandering about alone,” Ruth declared, not considering that her children ran wild from dawn to dusk, never answering to anyone for their whereabouts as long as they showed up at mealtime.

“I’ll have to speak to your father about this,” Ruth said. “Now run along and play.”

And Abbie was more than happy to do so as she turned and hurried toward the house.

Meagan was rinsing the wooden churn when Abbie came running toward her.

“How are the kittens?” Meagan asked the breathless girl.

“They’re fine, and Aunt Ruthie is here,” Abbie gasped.

Meagan straightened up and glanced toward the front of the house. A wagon stood at the hitching rail and the horse looked longingly toward the grass a short distance away. Ruth was nowhere in sight.

“Did Mrs. Somers go into the house?” Meagan asked as she wiped her hands on her apron and gathered up the bowl of butter and the pitcher of buttermilk.

“She said she was going to talk to Papa,” Abbie volunteered as she trailed behind Meagan toward the house.

“She’ll have a time finding him,” Meagan observed with some private satisfaction. “He’s gone down to check the animal pens by the creek.”

Abbie’s saucy smile told Meagan that the little girl didn’t like Ruth much more than Meagan did.

In all truth, Meagan was nervous over Ruth’s persistent visits. There was always the chance that the woman would tell Abbie the real reason Meagan was working for the Danielses, and Meagan could not bear to see the friendship and trust in the little girl’s eyes replaced by fear and loathing.

Meagan hadn’t had time to store the milk and butter when she saw Josh and Ruth coming toward the house.

Abbie rushed toward her father and was swept up in his arms.

“Look who’s come to see you.” He laughed as he acknowledged Ruth’s presence. “Your Aunt Ruthie is here.”

“I know,” Abbie said, burying her face in her father’s neck.

“Now don’t be so shy,” he urged. “You haven’t seen Aunt Ruthie for a long time.”

“Yes I have,” the little girl insisted. “I saw her when I came out of the barn. She said she wanted to talk to you and sent me to the house.”

Ruth laughed. “What an imagination that child has,” she asserted. “Why, I barely got here when I saw you go into the barn and went to meet you.”

“That’s not true,” Abbie protested. “You were here before Papa came back.” Suddenly the little girl looked stricken and began squirming in her father’s arms. “You didn’t hurt my kittens, did you? Let me down, Papa! I have to go see my kittens.”

Josh let the child drop to the ground and she ran off toward the barn before he could stop her.

“You see,” Ruth said, “the girl is completely out of control. Imagine living in fear that someone is going to harm a bunch of barn kittens. That’s what comes of allowing her to live in the same house as a murderess. You should let me take her home with me where she’d know she would be safe. If anything happens to that child there will be the devil to pay.”

Josh removed his wide-brimmed hat and replaced it on the back of his head. “It’s funny,” he said casually, “but Abbie never had any worries about the kittens before today. Could be she’s afraid you might want to take them home with you the same way you want to take her.”

Ruth drew herself up in outrage. “How dare you insinuate that I might have done something to disturb the child! I have nothing but her welfare at heart. And after the way she lied about seeing me…”

Meagan had heard most of the conversation and came forward. She didn’t understand Ruth’s intentions, but she certainly wasn’t going to allow the woman to drive a wedge between Abbie and her father. She smiled as she came toward them.

“Hello, Mrs. Somers. I see you found Josh. How lucky that he came back so early. I wanted to tell you that he had gone down to check the pens near the creek when Abbie told me you’d arrived, but you were nowhere in sight.”

Ruth was taken aback for a moment. Meagan was trying to ruin her credibility. Her mind worked desperately as she endeavored to think of some way to detract from Meagan’s tale.

Finally it came to her and she twisted her lips into a superior smile. “Of course I was nowhere in sight. If you didn’t see me it’s obvious I wasn’t here.” She turned to Josh. “This is ridiculous. Meagan is trying to cover up for Abbie’s lies. They’re conspiring together against you.”

Meagan spoke up before Josh had time to form an answer. “Well, maybe you weren’t here, Mrs. Somers,” Meagan admitted, “but your horse and wagon have been hitched to the rail ever since before I finished churning and that was quite a while ago.”

Ruth had forgotten about the horse, and the fact that it could be seen from the house.

“I can see that my presence isn’t appreciated here,” she fumed. “I just stopped by to see that Abbie was all right, not to be interrogated over the time of my arrival.”

“Now, Ruth,” Josh chided, “I’m sure you’re reading more into this than is necessary. You seem to be the one who is touchy about how long you’ve been here.” He was irritated that the woman had implied that Abbie lied. “If you don’t have time for a cup of tea I suppose you should be starting back home. Meagan and I have to get back to work.”

With a jerk of her head, Ruth marched to her wagon and, without a word of farewell, went on about her business, leaving Josh and Meagan to wonder as to the woman’s motives.

Meagan returned to the house and picked up the butter crock when Josh reached out and stopped her. As his hand touched her arm he felt the resilience of her flesh all the way to his toes.

“I just wanted to thank you for coming to Abbie’s defense,” he said, knowing it was only a half-truth.

Meagan had been real spunky when she stood up against Ruth in defense of his little girl, and he had wanted to whoop for joy. For once, someone besides himself had championed the child. Even Lily had seldom found a good word for their daughter. It had embarrassed the lovely Lily to have given birth to a child who was less than perfect. Making Abbie wear the bonnet was a constant reminder that there was something wrong with her appearance, and when the bonnet was removed Lily had found it almost impossible to look at her daughter.

And now Meagan had come along and seemed completely oblivious to the imperfection that set Abbie apart.

Meagan never accused Abbie of lying to draw attention to herself. And, to the best of his knowledge, Meagan never made fun of the girl because of the angle at which Abbie’s ears stuck out on each side of her head.

Josh wanted to do more than say thank-you to Meagan. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her how wonderful he thought she was, but he knew that was the last thing he dared do.

Meagan smiled at him somewhat hesitantly when he did not take his hand from her arm. He wanted to say something more, but he simply released her and stepped back.

“And Abbie thanks you too,” he said lamely, as Meagan, sensing potential danger, scurried out the door.

It was almost dark when Josh saw Meagan again. By that time he had gotten a rein on his emotions and greeted her in an offhanded manner as she entered the barn.

Abbie darted past her and ran to the stanchion where Josh was milking the cow.

“Squirt me some milk,” the little girl demanded, and her father laughingly aimed the udder toward her opened mouth. The first stream of milk missed and splashed against Abbie’s cheek and onto her bonnet. She shrieked with delight as the second hit her open mouth.

“Sorry about getting milk on her bonnet,” Josh called over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” Meagan answered laughing. “Bonnets will wash.”

The cow lowed restlessly. Josh checked the trough and asked, “Meagan, will you go up in the mow and toss down some hay?”

“I’ll go first and make sure the kittens aren’t in the way,” Abbie volunteered as she whisked up the slat ladder and disappeared into the loft.

“Hurry, hurry,” Meagan urged. “I’m right behind you.”

Abbie’s delighted giggles were punctuated by a gasp and the clap of one piece of wood striking another. Josh turned from his milking to see Meagan tumble to the ground.

Exasperated at having her milking turned into a circus, the cow kicked the bucket the moment Josh let go of her udder.

Meagan groaned as she tried to catch her breath while Abbie’s anxious little face peered from the top of the ladder.

Josh knelt down beside Meagan and lifted her into his arms. “There, there, now. Take it easy. It’s going to be all right. Are you hurt? Do you think you busted anything?”

Meagan’s head was spinning but she wasn’t certain whether it was because of the fall or the touch of Josh’s hands as he ran them along her body searching for broken bones. Had she been alone she would probably have climbed to her feet and waited until the pain in her hip and the dizziness subsided, but with Josh cradling her against his body she lost any desire to move.

She opened her eyes and waited until she was able to focus on the thick blond hair and strong features so unbearably close to her.

She nestled her head against his shoulder as he brushed back the hair that had fallen over her face.

“What happened, Papa?” Abbie demanded from her perch. “How did Meagan fall off the ladder?”

Josh looked up. One of the wooden slats that served as a rung swung free on one end. “I guess one of the slats came loose.” Josh barely glanced at the ladder, for his full attention was on Meagan, who was still trying to catch her breath.

“Are you hurt?” he asked again. “Do you have pain anywhere?”

“No,” she managed. “Nothing like that. Just knocked the wind out of me. Is Abbie all right?”

“She’s up there.” Josh indicated the cavernous hole above their heads without taking his eyes from the woman in his arms. “Looks like you cracked your head real good.” He brushed his hand over her forehead, gingerly touching the rising lump.

“Papa! Lift me down!” Abbie demanded. “I’ll go get some cold water for Meagan’s head.” The little girl’s perception amazed her father.

Reluctantly, he released Meagan and held his arms up to his daughter. It was while he stood in this position that he saw the fresh marks against the aging wood. He put the little girl on the ground and turned back to the ladder.

“You haven’t been trying to repair this ladder, have you?” he asked.

“I didn’t realize there was anything wrong with it.” Meagan struggled to a sitting position and attempted to get to her feet.

“There probably wasn’t anything wrong until the nails came out.” He bent down and ran his hands through the straw on the floor of the barn. Nails were hard to come by and he wanted to find them if possible.

“What made you think I was tinkering with it?” Meagan asked.

“Marks here along the edge of this board.” He pointed to the fresh gouges. “Looks like somebody was either trying to put it up, or take it down.”

“Abbie runs up and down that ladder all the time and she’s had no trouble,” Meagan pointed out.

“Abbie weighs next to nothing, but once either you or I hit that step we were going to take a fall.”

“But how could something like that happen without either of us noticing?” Meagan wondered aloud.

“Maybe it just happened today,” Josh said thoughtfully as his eyes met Meagan’s in concerned contemplation.

Meagan’s eyes opened wide. “You don’t think Ruth could have gone up into the loft to look for you and knocked it loose, do you?”

“Something like that could have happened,” Josh said noncommittally. “Now let’s get you back to the house so I can clean up this mess.”

Meagan looked beyond Josh and realized the fruit of the days’ milking was spilled across the floor. She pulled herself to her feet, her head spinning. “Oh, Josh, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I should have been more careful.”

“Don’t let it fuss you,” he said reassuringly. “I’ll take care of it. You go back to the house. I’ll make sure there aren’t any more unpleasant surprises before I come in and we’ll try to sort this whole thing out later.”

Abbie came across the barnyard, a dripping wet dishcloth trailing behind her like a banner. “I got it!” she hollered. “A nice cold cloth for Meagan’s head.”

The child was somewhat taken aback when she realized her potential patient was already on her feet, but she thrust the cloth into Meagan’s hand and smiled proudly at her achievement.

Meagan wrung out the cloth and pressed it against the lump. “Thank you, Abbie. That feels much better. Now if you’ll just help me back to the house, I think I’ll sit a while before I put supper on the table.”

Abbie would have preferred to stay in the barn with her father, Meagan knew, but the little girl made no argument. If there were other accidents waiting to happen, Meagan and Josh wanted to be certain Abbie was not the next unsuspecting victim.

There was nothing else that posed a threat, and life returned to normal. As normal as life could be for a man and a woman who were trying to hide their attraction from each other, as well as from themselves. With the approach of the harvest they worked from sunup to sundown.

Abbie stayed on the edge of the fields playing with her kitten. Buttermilk was a fat, yellow feline, lazy beyond belief, who didn’t care what position he was in as long as he was cherished and fed. Abbie dressed the little animal in doll clothes and carried him in a basket, feeding him a continual bounty of tidbits she had brought for his gratification.

Because the little cat occupied Abbie so completely, Meagan and Josh were able to accomplish a great amount of work and by the end of the week Josh felt he could take time to go hunting to fill the larder.

“I could butcher a pig,” he told Meagan, “but I’d rather wait until the cold weather sets in. There’s plenty of game out there and thanks to you and that lazy cat of Abbie’s I have the time.”

He left early the next morning, promising to be back by nightfall.

Meagan and Abbie listened throughout the day, occasionally catching the echo of a shot from his gun. Meagan put dinner on the table and saw to it that Abbie ate a healthy portion. She stored the rest on the back of the fire for Josh.

The days were growing short, and Meagan reminded herself of that fact as she got Abbie ready for bed. Once the child was settled, Meagan sat on the dogtrot in the warm summer night and watched the shadows chase the moonlight across the yard.

A twig snapped somewhere in the distance. Instantly alert, Meagan watched for Josh’s familiar figure to come through the trees.

The smile on her face froze, and the greeting in her throat was silenced when she realized the figure that emerged from the woods was not Josh Daniels, but an Indian.

She jumped to her feet and was about to run into the house when a familiar voice called out, “Meagan? Meagan? Is that you?”

In the next moment she was across the yard, hurling herself into the arms of her younger brother.

“What in the devil are you doing way out here?” he asked as he tried to embrace her and get a look at her at the same time.

“Oh, Reilly, how I’ve hoped you’d find me.” The tears ran down her cheeks and she was on the verge of blubbering.

He jerked the scarf from around his head and wiped her cheeks, then he thrust it in her hand. “Blow your nose and tell me what happened.”

Meagan did as she was told. “How much do you know?” she asked.

“I heard that a white woman was found guilty of murder and made a slave of the man whose wife she supposedly killed. I never thought it might be you.” He hesitated and looked through the moonlight into her eyes. “It is you, isn’t it, Meagan?”

“Yes, it’s me.” She sighed.

“Tell me—” he ordered “—all of it.”

“After you left I heard of a possible position with the Somers family. The woman said if I pleased her she would hire me to teach her children and help with the housework. I was carrying some supplies to her kitchen when I heard a scream and a thumping sound. I ran into the parlor and found a lady lying at the foot of the stairs. As I bent over the body to try to help the woman, Ruth Somers started screaming that I’d killed her friend. She said I had pushed her down the stairs. Reilly, I’d never even been upstairs, but it was Ruth Somers’s word against mine and no one believed me.

“The jury found me guilty, but asked for mercy because there was no evidence, and no motive. Just Ruth’s testimony that I’d pushed Lily Daniels down the stairs.”

There was a moment of silence, then Reilly urged, “And…”

“There is no prison for women in the Carolinas, and rather than—” she swallowed once before forcing out the word “—hang me, the judge sentenced me to work for Josh Daniels, the dead woman’s husband.”

“And…” Reilly prompted.

“I tried to get away. To find you, somehow. Josh caught me and brought me here. I think he would have let me go had it not been for the threats of the judge.”

“So you live with him and take his wife’s place, is that it?” The anger built in Reilly’s voice.

“I take care of Abbie, Josh’s little girl, and I help with the chores and the housework.” She swallowed again, realizing the core of her brother’s concern. “I don’t share Josh’s bed,” she finished weakly.

“Of your choice, or his?” Reilly persisted. The whole situation regarding his sister was so bizarre he couldn’t believe it had happened.

“Judge Osborne said that if I did anything more than work for Josh the original sentence would be carried out. I would hang and Josh would be jailed for contempt of court.”

Meagan watched as her brother’s already swarthy face grew dark with anger. “I’m beginning to understand why the Indians delight in taking the scalps of white men,” he growled. “Where is this bereaved widower now? Why isn’t he here protecting his property?”

“Josh went hunting. He should be coming back any time now.”

Reilly’s eyes scanned the shadows. “Get your things, Meagan. Come with me, now.”

“I can’t leave Abbie here alone. She’s just a little girl.”

Reilly grabbed his sister’s arms, squeezing them firmly as he gave her a little shake. “Listen to me, Meagan. I’m on my way to a powwow. Old Howling Dog wants the white man out of these mountains. Many of the Indians are joining him. There’s going to be trouble come spring. If you won’t go with me now, be ready to leave when I come back through here or it won’t matter what the judge said. When Old Howling Dog goes on the warpath, no one is going to be spared.”

“But shouldn’t you tell someone, Reilly? Think of all the people who will be killed.”

“I can’t tell what I don’t know. The white man doesn’t believe half-breeds. I must have proof. That’s why I’m going. If you can hold your jailer at bay until I get back I’ll take you to my mother’s people. They live at peace with the white man. You would be made welcome there until we can find some way to prove your innocence, or change the judge’s mind.” Reilly touched the hilt of his knife as he made his statement concerning the judge’s mind and Meagan gave a little gasp.

Reilly had a ruthless streak in him that their father had spent his life trying to eradicate. It seemed the old man hadn’t been successful.

“You don’t understand,” Meagan told him. “If I leave here they will hunt me down like an animal. They’ll hang me, and most likely you too, if you help me escape.”

“You don’t understand, sister,” Reilly said with a twinkle in his eye. “I don’t intend to be caught.”

“But…”

“No ‘buts,’” he said. “Be ready to leave when I return. There won’t be much time. If for some reason the attacks start before I can reach you, go to the fort. I will find you. I will not allow my sister to live out her life as a white man’s slave.”

“Reilly, I can’t leave Abbie. She’s not like other children. She needs…”

She got no further, for Abbie’s sleepy voice called out, “Meagan? Who are you talking to? Is that my papa?” Abbie wandered toward the door. Her bonnet had slipped from her head and hung down her back and her ears stood out like small white saucers on either side of her face.

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