Lucas removed his shirt as Mikayla was quietly brushing her long hair down her back. He quickly slipped into worn, but clean trousers whilst her back was turned. It was too hot for a nightgown, and he had slept in his regular clothes before Mikayla had come along. Plus, he was curious to see her reaction. Would his body drive her as crazy as hers did to him?

Out of the corner of her eye, Mikayla noticed Lucas slipping into bed half naked. Slightly alarmed, she worried what his expectations were. Yes, they'd shared an intense kiss, but was he wanting more from her? Suddenly nervous, she still stepped into her makeshift dressing room to change into her nightgown, suddenly self conscious of the old worn fabric. She'd wished she'd thought to get something prettier. Something more attractive. She crawled into her side of the bed. He lay on his side, his back turned towards her, the thin sheet pulled up over his hip. Mikayla studied the bronzed muscles in his back, thinking of the shirtless scene at the water trough from earlier that day. Had it really only been that morning? What an eventful day it had been, for sure. She watched him breathing steadily, the urge to run her hand over his bicep growing stronger. She'd never been so close to a man in such an intimate state. Wanting to speak but unsure what to say, she took a deep breath, hoping the right words would spill out of her mouth.

Instead she blurted, "why the change in night clothes?" Smooth, Mikayla, she scolded herself. Really, could she be more obvious?

He rolled onto his back, turning his face towards her. "Well, this is actually how I usually sleep. At least, before you came along. I hate nightgowns, they get all tangled around my legs and it's too hot for summertime."

She nodded, willing her eyes to not betray her thoughts by drifting downwards to his bare chest. "I see," she said weakly. Brilliant conversation skills, she mocked herself.

He turned his whole body towards her, propping up on his elbow. "Are you sure you're alright? Today was... a lot. I wish I could say those types of things don't happen around here, but they do. I have quite a few enemies, Mikayla. But I want you to know, I'll always protect you."

She smiled up at him, "I know," she spoke quietly, "thank you for that. And I'm a strong woman, Lucas. I can handle some struggles."

"You shouldn't have to."

"Lucas, if you knew my whole story... look, just trust me, I have my own share of enemies. Back in Charlottesville I wasn't exactly everyone's favorite person. That's part of why I wanted a new life," she paused, thinking of her past. "I want to put that behind me and start a new life... with you." The last part was barely a whisper.

Lucas moved closer to her, resting his hand boldly on her waist. "I'd like that very much," he said hoarsely, his deep voice raw with emotion. Mikayla felt like her heart was beating in the spot where he was touching her. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she inched closer to him, touching her forehead to his. He took the opportunity and closed the gap, crushing his lips into hers, the hand on her waist sliding around to her lower back, pulling the lower half of her body against his. She gasped in surprise, and his hand slid lower, pulling at the fabric of her nightgown. Placing her hands on his chest, for a few seconds she relished feeling his bare skin under her fingertips, until she reluctantly but firmly pushed him away from her.

He was breathing heavy, confusion clouding his face. "I'm so... sorry," she stammered. "I'm just not ready..." her voice faltered, what was wrong with her? She had this sweet, strong man, but something was holding her back. Ashamed, she drew away from him to her side of the bed, afraid he'd be angry with her.

Lucas was laying on his back, breathing heavily, his eyes closed. No doubt his rage was building. She was his wife. She should submit to his desires, not tease him.

"Lucas?" She asked, taking in his still frame.

"Just give me a minute," he said through clenched teeth, his eyes still closed. His body was raging with feelings like a teenager. Embarrassed, he was trying to cool down before he assaulted her again. He disgusted himself, behaving like a boy instead of a man.

Finally, he turned towards her. "I'm sorry," he said, "I shouldn't have done that."

"I'm your wife, Lucas, we're suppose to... I'm suppose to..." her eyes were welling up with tears. When had she become such a crybaby?

"Mikayla, you didn't do anything wrong," he insisted. "I should not have done what I did."

His heart broke when he saw she was crying, probably fearful of him. He gently touched her arm at a modest level, glad she at least didn't flinch at his touch. "I'm so sorry."

Sniffling, she tried to explain, "No, there's nothing wrong with you, Lucas. It's me. My past... I haven't exactly had the easiest life. I...," she hesitated, worried what he'd think of her.

"Mikayla, please. Talk to me," he pleaded. "I want to help."

She sighed, "After my mother died, things were... hard. No one to protect me but me. In Charlottesville there was a man, Simon Goodwin. He had his eyes on me since I was of age, always asking my mother to marry me, followed us down the street. He insisted he'd be doing us a favor, helping us move up in society. After my mother died he practically demanded I marry him, but he had a reputation for being drunk and abusive to women and... I feared him. I put that ad in the paper to escape, hoping to find somewhere to run to. Before I came to North Fork, Simon attacked me on the street. Pulled me into an alley and..." her tears were flowing freely, watching as Lucas's jaw clenched in anger.

"Did he..." Lucas couldn't bring himself to ask what he feared most.

"He tried to rape me, but I got away. Not before his hands pawed all over me and my dress was ripped..." she shuddered, not wanting to remember the event. "I'm sorry I pushed you away, Lucas. I don't know what came over me. I just... I'm afraid." Her voice was wobbling, "I shouldn't be, your a good man, I don't know why my heart is telling me one thing but my brain is still on alert." She sighed, glad to have opened up to him, but nervous about his reaction. Everything she'd seen of him so far made her hope he'd understand.

He didn't disappoint. "Mikayla, what happened to you... it isn't your fault. That man is scum. You don't have to feel guilty at all. I should feel guilty. I shouldn't have pushed too far, too fast." He was scum himself, unable to control his impulses.

"I... I want this, someday, Lucas, know that." She whispered.

He nodded, "we'll take it slow," he told her, kissing her lightly on the forehead. She turned, tucking her small body into his, he wrapped an arm around her, and she smiled, feeling safe. Her hope for love was growing, her desire for a family complete. She'd found somewhere to belong, but still, her past haunted her.

"Mikayla?" He murmured in her ear, "is that why you have the revolver?"

Thinking back to the gun she had stashed in her trunk, she smiled, "it made me feel a little safer."

"It was certainly useful today," he chuckled.

She smiled, snuggling into his chest, causing him to inhale sharply. This wasn't going to be easy for him.

The next morning she awoke, stretching. Her hands met nothing but bed sheets and she was disappointed to discover Lucas was already gone. Walking out to the kitchen, she started breakfast and filled up a large tub for laundry. She was just placing eggs and oatmeal on the table when Lucas and Mark entered. Lucas gave her a small, shy grin, her heart lept in her chest. They sat down and ate together, talking about each person's plans for the day. Lucas was going to continue planting corn and move cattle to the pasture on the north side. Mikayla planned to clean up around the house and barn, and was hoping to tackle a new project.

"I was wondering, do you boys usually have a vegetable garden?" She asked.

"Well sure!" Exclaimed Mark. "We plant potatoes and onions and all sorts of things!"

"And how much of that ends up being harvested, hm?" Lucas said, giving Mark a knowing smirk.

Mark lowered his head regretfully, "okay, I'll admit I'm not too keen on pickin, but if Mikayla and I work at it together, we're bound to turn up some fruit!"

"I think that sounds like a wonderful idea, Mark," Mikayla agreed, nodding her head. "Why don't you pick out seeds while you're in town today and we can start tonight," she suggested.

Mark nodded excitedly, scarfing down the rest of his breakfast he hurried off to school.

Lucas watched him go, then turned to Mikayla with a smile saying, "I'm just warning you, you're going to end up doing most of the work on that garden."

She laughed, "oh well, that's alright."

Lucas's smile grew and he stood, grabbing his hat. "Well I'm headed out back if you need anything..." he wanted to say more but was unsure what.

She just smiled brightly at him. They were in a new, awkward stage of their relationship. Both full of feelings but unsure how to express them appropriately.

After Lucas left, Mikayla cleaned up breakfast, started some bread left to rise in the sunny window. Humming to herself, she carried wet clothes out to hang on the line on the porch. Returning inside, she swept the kitchen floor with her broom.

Suddenly she heard a knock on the door, and she straightened in alarm. She hadn't heard any horses or wagon pulling up. Her mind went to the revolver now in her bedside table, and she quickly ran into the bedroom, grabbing it and tucking it into her apron pocket. Slowly opening the door, she revealed a bedraggled looking young woman holding a large basket.

"Oh, why hello," Mikayla said kindly, still a bit nervous.

"Hello, ma'am," the woman said. "I'm Sarah Filmore, the ladies at the saloon said you could help me."

"Oh? What's wrong?"

The woman pulled back the cover of the basket to reveal a sleeping baby.

"Ladies in town said you could help me learn to care for this babe properly."

Mikayla's heart softened. "Why, of course, come in."

The woman entered, setting the basket on the table. Her eyes stared hungrily at the bread in the window.

"Would you like some leftovers from breakfast?" Mikayla asked, getting cheese and oatmeal out for the young woman, who thanked her and ate it neatly but quickly.

"So, tell me about yourself and your baby."

"Well, ma'am, I'm from New York, came out here to find a better life. And well," she motioned to the baby. "Then I had little Andrew here about 9 months ago."

"Where are you living?" Mikayla questioned.

"Here and there..." the woman glanced at the floor, ashamed. "I don't know how to take care of Andy with what little resources I have."

"Well I'd love to help you," Mikayla offered. "You could stay here till you get up off your feet again. I'm sure we could get you a respectable job in town."

Sarah straightened. "I don't need charity, ma'am. And I'm far from being respectable... not like you." She said quietly. "If you don't mind, could you watch Andrew while I use the outhouse?"

"Of course," Mikayla smiled. The baby was stirring, and she took him out of the basket as Sarah walked out the door. He smiled at Mikayla, grasping her finger in his little hand.

"Well aren't you a dear," Mikayla cooed. He was small, dark hair covered his head. He reached for Mikayla's hair, tugging at it, he babbled something rapidly. She laughed, tickling his side, making him giggle. He nuzzled at her breast, and she remembered his mother outside. Standing with him on her hip, she walked to the back door, looking out for Sarah. The outhouse door was open, and Mikayla stepped out into the yard, suddenly alert.

"Sarah?" She called in alarm.

She was met with silence. Mikayla began to grow concerned, walking around the farm calling out, the babe in her arms growing restless.

Where had the child's mother gone?