That evening Eliza had Isaac on her hip when she grimaced. "Arthur, would you take him? My lower back is tellin' me about it."

"Sure," he drawled with a smile as he reached out and took him from her arms. "Come here, bud."

Eliza watched as Arthur went about his business just the same with one of his big arms carrying Isaac to his side. Isaac reached out and fiddled with the hair on his chin, and she laughed softly at Arthur's reaction when he yanked at it.

"Oh, that just ain't gonna work, partner." He glanced back at her. "Gotta keep my face completely bare for the folk round here!"

She smiled and watched as he took Isaac to a blanket on the sitting room floor where they kept a few toys and wooden blocks for him.

"Here, this stuff oughtta do ya," he said, and she was surprised when he actually sat on the floor and began playing with him.

Before long, she realized they were both completely caught up, and neither of them would miss her for a little while. She decided to take the opportunity to slip away into her room for a quiet bath.

About half an hour later, Arthur came through the bedroom door.

"Shit," he cut out when he saw her in the bath, and quickly retreated to pull the door closed. "I'm sorry, I didn't— It wasn't latched, I didn't—"

"You're all right, Arthur," he heard her quiet words through the crack in the door.

Still unsure he'd heard her right, he slowly pushed it open.

"It's nothin' you haven't seen before."

He looked away and proceeded inside, going to the dresser by the bedside, as it seemed she wished. "Put Isaac to bed. He was noddin' off."

"You give him a kiss goodnight for me?"

"'Course," he said quietly. But that wasn't the kind of kiss he was thinking of at this particular moment, his eyes glued to her reflection in the mirror of the vanity against the wall as he began to undress. With her back to him as she sat in the tub, he noticed her smiling softly in profile at his response.

"Even as young as he is, he likes when he's got your attention; I've noticed that," she said.

"Yeah—he's a good kid."

"With a lot of love to give."

"Gonna start crawlin' soon, I reckon." He saw her nod in the mirror as he opened up the buttons on his shirt one by one.

"Any day now," she said.

He watched her in the mirror's reflection as she leaned forward and bathed herself, taking the soap bar across her arms, her wisps of dry hair piled up in a tussle atop her head, though a few clumps had escaped and were sticking to her skin. He listened to the water slosh and watched the muscles in her back tense and move. When she released the pin from her hair, it fell in a tumble of golden waves, and she proceeded to get suds going on her scalp. He watched as she dipped her head back into the water to rinse, and when he saw her closed eyes and parts of her serene face, he tried to look away again.

Something about eavesdropping on someone bathing—even with permission—felt so inherently wrong, like it was the last bastion of a person's privacy, meant to stay that way. To be invited into that privacy felt so intimate, not to be done casually. Almost like it was to be reserved for a husband and wife and enjoyed by only them. And here he was, willing to look on with almost a ferocity—if she was going to give it, he would take it.

He swallowed hard and wondered again if he was a normal man—a normal man would be one way or the other, not fight with himself about it. He wondered too if she knew how easily she could send him at odds with himself. He looked back at her reflection as she went about her business in relaxed, oblivious movements. It didn't seem she had any notion what types of things were hard for a grown man.

Having finished bathing, Eliza looked around and realized that while she was sitting, her towel was just out of reach. She pulled herself up and rose out of the water, and almost immediately she felt the towel covering her. When she looked back, Arthur wasn't there. He had already returned to his place beside the dresser with his back to her.

"Thank you," she said quietly. She looked forward again and scrunched her brows up for a moment as she stepped out of the bath. Once she'd dried off and changed into her nightgown, they both quietly slipped into bed and fell asleep.

.

When the sun came up and they got out of bed, Arthur noticed that she didn't greet him good morning when she dressed and went to Isaac's room. As they cooked breakfast in the kitchen, she nearly bumped into him more than once as she avoided looking his way. He tried to write it off, but when she still hadn't said a word to him by late afternoon, he spoke up.

"Why're you actin' squirrelly?" he said with an arch to his brow.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play around; just tell me."

She hesitated but finally opened her mouth. "Are you tired of me, or am I just plumb disgusting to you now?"

"What?" He wheezed a chuckle. "Whatchyou talkin' 'bout? Get the two of us together, we can hardly keep our hands off each other."

"Last night. You saw the whole of me, every inch, and still you…you never even touched me. Usually you get home, and you…you come onto me like a…like a…"

He nodded with a grin, scratching the back of his head. "Like a feral hound."

"Exactly." She watched him chuckle to himself and shake his head. But she didn't find it terribly funny. When they were intimate, she could imagine that he loved her. She couldn't let him take that away.

"There I was thinkin'…" His head bobbled in amusement. "Oh, god, Eliza," he wiped his hand over his face. "It's just a misunderstandin', is all. I thought you'd think better of me if I didn't."

Her brows came together for a moment, and she shook her head with the slightest grin. "Since when do you care what I think, Arthur?"

"I—" He stiffened, taking a moment to think. "Well, I…I couldn't rightly tell you when that happened." He loosened up and looked back at her. "Truth is you had me practically salivatin' like the no-good, wretched dog I am. If that's what you're worried about, don't be. I'll have you hootin' and hollerin' tonight, all right? Hell, we can knock one off right here, right now if you want."

She let out a chuckle as she leaned in to hug him, pressing her cheek against his chest.

He lifted his arms, a little unsure for a moment what the right move was. He finally brought his hands to her back and patted her.

.

Later that night when Eliza had put Isaac down for bed, she went to her bedroom and stopped abruptly when she saw Arthur in the bathtub.

"Oh," she said turning quickly to leave.

"Naw, it's all right," he chuckled at her reaction that had mirrored his own. Now he was able to understand what she'd felt. "Hey!" he said, stopping her before she closed the door. "This is a bit of déjà vu for us, ain't it? 'Cept this time we're gonna do it right."

She looked back at him.

"There's room enough for two," he said. "Wanna give me a hand here?"

"What?" He saw her brows come together slightly as she fought a grin.

"Don't hesitate, don't even think! Just get yourself in here!"

She looked back at the door for a moment, closed it, and quickly disrobed.

"'Atta girl," he said.

She caught his expression as she got into the tub one leg at a time. This time it was plain and heavy-laden with lust. She sunk into the steaming water across from him, and he quickly caught her by the wrist.

"Whoa, no, no," he said, slinging her towards him. "Your place is right over here."

She smiled and sloshed through the water, turning to sit and lie back against him. When they were both sitting still and quiet, he began cupping his hand in the water and bringing it to the back of her head repeatedly to wet her hair. She thought back to one of the first things he'd ever said to her—that she was a child. She'd been working herself away from that ever since. From where she sat, she had to be a grownup by now. Had to be. She'd have her twenty-first birthday in a couple months, and here she was sharing a bath with a brawny outlaw. And on top of that, she was nearly always working through a tangle of grown-up emotions she wouldn't wish on Confucius himself. In fact, she thought that by anybody's standards, she'd grown up in a real god-awful hurry.

"You know…" he said quietly, "you said somethin' that kinda bothered me."

"Hm?"

"Well… I know I can be a downright ornery bastard."

She let a short chuckle spurt in the back of her nose. "It's good to be self-aware."

"Yeah. Well. Can you say with confidence you'll grow tired of me, 'Liza? And I don't just mean…the physical side of things; I mean, in general—just bein' round me. Think you'll get tired of me?"

"Hm…" she grinned.

"Well, don't think too hard now."

She smiled. "Tired of you? How could I be? You're a one-man circus in and of yourself," she laughed. She heard his brief laugh mingle with hers, then die away.

"Eliza hun… I'm tryin'a be serious for once."

She felt her smile slowly fade as she realized he was in earnest. She swallowed and shook her head. "Never. Ain't possible."

"Well then," he said running a finger under the wet hair stuck to the crook of her neck and swiping it around to the other side. "With everything we got on our plates, bein' new parents and all, let's both agree to neither of us spend our time worryin' about that one. All right?"

She closed her eyes when she felt his lips on her shoulder. "Is that your way of lettin' me know you won't get tired of me either?" He didn't answer, instead planting another kiss in the crook of her neck. She smiled and sighed through her nose. "You sure have an odd way of reassuring a woman, Arthur."

"As long as it works," he said placing kisses on her neck, under her jaw, and on the corner of her mouth.

She let her head fall back onto his shoulder, and he kissed her deeply on the mouth. She finally reached an arm around his neck and drew back as she turned to face him, sitting on his lap.

"Oh, you're gonna make a meal outta me, huh?" he grinned. "Guess no one's gettin' clean."

With one arm slung around him, she kissed him and slid the other hand down to his groin.

"Woh—Jesus," he jumped at what she'd done, sliding deeper into the tub. He let out a laugh. "You're a little excited there."

She grinned as she leaned into him. "Ain't like you aren't too," she said quietly between kisses.

"Yeah, but," he breathed, laughing almost nervously, "you gonna send me out ahead of you, you go about it like that."

She bit her lip and smiled. "Sorry."

"Ain't no skin off my nose, darlin'," he chuckled. Once he sat upright again, she went to kiss him and hesitated, and he saw her expression grow sober and pensive. "What is it?"

"I'd always wondered…" she said quietly, almost to herself. "You draw a distinction…between this, and…just bein' round each other?"

"Sure. I think anyone would," he chuckled.

She looked down at him. "So…you like just bein' round me?"

And just like that, maybe without even trying, she'd pinned him down. He debated whether he should tell her the truth or a lie. The truth was that he did enjoy just being with her. For once he knew the simple answer to her question. What he didn't know was whether the truth would hurt her more in the long run than it would for her to hear a lie now. He looked up into her eyes. They had a history of holding back, but never of lying to each other. He didn't want to start now.

He swiped a stray clump of wet hair from her face. His voice was deep and quiet when he said, "I like just bein' round you." He watched her eyes fill—not with tears, not even with desire. He'd only seen a look like that from one other woman in his life.

Eliza brought her other arm around his neck, coming close and kissing him once. When she drew away, she felt his arms press to her bare back and noticed his brows come together as he looked down at her mouth and leaned forward for her again.