"Mark, are you alright? You've been very quiet since we left the inn a few days ago." She set her hand on his leg in the coach.

She was still too weak to travel safely, but the post coach only came once a week. Tanya had been too distressed at the thought of delaying another week, so there hadn't been time for a proposal or funds to obtain a marriage license. He glared at Dr. Thomas, who had a sudden desire to see Colorado and followed Tanya like a damn dog. Too bad the wretch didn't have fleas like a dog. Or worms. Or rabies - that would be good because then Tanya wouldn't protest if he shot the scoundrel.

"Does your back hurt?" she interrupted.

He grunted. That wet-behind-the-ears, poor excuse for a surgeon sat far too close to her other side. America was said to have a giant cliff, the Grand Canyon. It would be grand - grand if Thomas walked right over the edge. Maybe Colorado was near this canyon. He'd have to ask Tiger or Lily about it later.

"You must keep warm so the fever doesn't return," Thomas said and reached for the top button of her cloak left undone.

Without even thinking, he scooped her and Charles into his lap to face away from Thomas. She'd mentioned privately when he'd said to button up that it felt too much like hands around her neck during the assault. He glared at Thomas, the protective instincts in full drive, and snapped, "She will wear it as she pleases."

Thomas slouched back, crossed his arms over his chest and pulled his hat low to sleep.

She leaned in so the vanilla scent of her hair wafted as she whispered in his ear. "You have no need for jealousy. I love you, not him. He's simply an acquaintance." She sat back with a smile.

"But aspires for much more," he growled.

Her gloved finger ran down his whiskery cheek - gloves that Thomas had purchased for her. He was grateful that she wasn't cold, but it stung all the same that he didn't have the means to provide for her. "My bear, he won't steal my heart," she breathed and brushed a kiss over his lips.

He tucked her head under his chin and held her and Charles close. "You are mine, and I have a right to desire to gut him," he growled.

She giggled, that twinkling fairy sound drawing smiles from other passengers, including goddamn Thomas. "Are you going to marry me soon?"

That was like a punch to the gut. Heaving a sigh, he rested his cheek against her hair. "I would've wed you a month ago if I had the means. As soon as I can, I will."

The woman sat up and looked at him with the biggest eyes. "Let me sell my hair. It will grow back and earn more than enough for a license and a day's worth of meals for everyone."

Oh god, that hurt to hear her willing to part with her one attribute that she saw no flaw in. Swallowing hard, he shook his head. "I will find a way, my lady love." Then he leaned his forehead against hers and held her beautiful brown eyes. "Think of it as my quest to win your heart - I shall slay every dragon from here to Colorado that gets in my way. But it will take time."

"Why won't you take it from me?" Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, and her eyes filled with concern.

"Because I do not wish to see you sacrifice more than you already have," he whispered. "Let me do this."

She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. "I just want to be married to you."

"I want it too. We will, sweetheart. We will."

At the stop for lunch, he got out and then took Charles for her. Before having a chance to offer her a hand out, Thomas jumped down and took her hands.

"May I be of assistance since he has the babe, madam?" Thomas offered a brilliant smile up to her.

She glanced at him and then Thomas, as if uncertain what to do. "Thank you, but I'm fine."

"Come, Mrs. Debonairo, all I offer is a hand down." He caught her gloved hand.

Anger reared the moment Tanya took a step back. Manhandling would only frighten her. He stepped closer and nudged Thomas aside. "Your assistance was denied," he snapped. "And a gentleman would not press himself upon a woman."

It must've been a fierce enough look because Thomas took a step back. "My apologies," he mumbled and headed inside.

When she stepped forward and held out her hand, he took it. "Tanya, you're shaking." He frowned.

She wouldn't meet his eyes but took Charles back. "He presses, and it makes me nervous."

He cracked a smile and bowed his head to try to catch her eyes. "He persists in offering an arm or hand, but I bark and snap and that doesn't frighten you?"

She looked at him finally, worry knitting her brow. "When I say, 'no,' you listen."

He released a sad sigh and set his arm around her. "We'll keep him away from you. I do not think he would cause you harm, though."

"I'm being paranoid?" She looked so ashamed, so unsure of herself.

"I didn't say that," he snapped. "One should wonder how you don't run screaming from all men." God, his nerves were frayed enough as is without goddamn Thomas frightening her too. "You will stay near me, and should I happen to punch the bastard, i will not hear any scolding, understood?" he huffed.

"Yes, Mark." She smiled.

"You're my wife, and I won't have some pig frightening you," he ordered.

The woman smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder, seeming to find great comfort in his protection.

God, she had a way of making him feel like a strong man. That shattered the moment he took a step.

"Does your knee hurt? Your limp is worse?"

"The leather brace is stretching out," he growled. "Enough about my ailment, woman."

She stopped and cupped his cheek with a soft smile. "It's a very noble injury. I wish sometimes you'd be a little less ashamed of it."

"When it will be seen as a weakness for obtaining employment, there is nothing noble about it," he spat and jerked his head free.

The wench searched his eyes. "There are times in poverty, Mark, when all you have to live on for days is a prayer. We are not yet starving or shelterless, so we are blessed. You worry about what you do not yet know." Raising onto her toes, she wrapped a hand behind his neck and pulled him down. Soft lips brushed a dainty kiss on his cheek. His heart skipped a beat, just like every time that she gave a kiss no matter how modest. Then the damn woman slipped her delicate hand into his and tugged him toward the pub, with everyone else already inside.

A thud sounded from behind.

She turned at the same time as Mark. The coach driver laid on his side in the dirt, and his partner looked down from the driver's seat with a shocked expression.

Mark dropped her hand and raced over.

"I don't know what happened. He just fell," the younger driver said with wide eyes.

Mark awkwardly dropped himself to his good knee and felt the man's neck as she hurried over. His eyes flew to her. "His heart stopped. Get inside."

Setting Charles on the ground beside Mark, she dropped to her knees as Mark started pumping on the man's chest. It was a futile attempt, but Mark wouldn't be the fine physician he was if he didn't try the impossible.

After a few minutes, perspiration formed on his brow and he jerked off his cape and continued. With his back still healing, he would hurt himself with that kind of strain.

"Here." She pressed Mark aside and threw her weight onto her hands to press down on the man's chest.

Mark felt for a pulse and then leaned down to listen. "Stop." So she did, but he shook his head and began examining the man as she resumed pumping.

It grew harder and harder to make the large man's chest press down. "Mark, I can't," she panted.

"I can't find anything wrong." A slight note of panic leaked into his voice.

Oh god, strength was draining too fast to keep this up, and Mark didn't need guilt of a death on his conscience on top of everything else. Clasping her hands together, she made a fist and slammed it down on the man's chest in a desperate attempt.

Mark startled and looked at her with wide eyes. Then he felt the man's neck. His eyebrows rose as if shocked, and his gaze turned to her. "He has a pulse."

She blinked. "What?"

"He has a pulse!" he practically laughed.

People began to flow out of the pub at the commotion. Thomas and Grandfather came out and knelt, and Mark filled them in as they worked on the still unconscious man. She scooped up Charles and fell to the back of the crowd.

"Are you alright?" Grandmama's hand touched her damp brow.

"Yes, I was helping Mark. I'm fine."

The man woke up minutes later and a bunch of men carried him down the street to the surgeon's house.

Grandfather returned with the men and clapped her on the back. His grin threatened to split his face. "Mark tells me that you saved the man's life."

She shook her head. "Luck. Mark was the one to say to push on his chest." Thomas came over and said something, but her eyes locked on the loan man limping down the road with a smile. "Grandmama, take Charles." She handed over the babe without breaking eye contact with Mark. Snatching his cloak off the ground, she hurried toward him.

His breath puffed out in a cloud through the cold winter air and his ears and nose were red, but he didn't seem to notice. He held out his arms, and she trotted faster and threw herself into his arms.

"You're a genius," he panted between kisses and held tight. He was passionate and his heart raced from the high as much as hers. "God, Tanya, I want to make love to you," he whispered between kisses.

It was like being doused by a bucket of cold water. She pulled her head back and stared at him for a moment. He was healed enough and in a few more days he'd declare her healed enough and technically they were still wed... The nerves of the reality of it hit.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He dropped his arms and stepped back.

For some reason, his reaction hurt, although she'd done the same to him. She wrapped her arms around herself. Wanting him close and not wanting him but being hurt by the rejection...it was so confusing. "I should get Charles," she said, turning on her heel. Hurrying down the road, she stopped half way and looked back. It wasn't fair to walk too fast for him, and it would be good to talk but emotions were still a jumble. Besides, his eyes were downcast on the road as he limped along. So she turned and retrieved Charles as the passengers got back in the coach from the lunch break.

Mark went inside the pub and returned to the coach at the last boarding call. He sat to the left and handed over one of two sandwiches wrapped in grease paper.

"Thank you," she said quietly, hating this awkward silence with him.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," he said in a low tone for private conversation, but he kept a slight physical distance and stared down at the sandwich in his hands.

Slipping her hand into his, she stared at her lap. "It was the topic, not you. I didn't really think about how much time has lapsed, and it took me by surprise. I thought I would be more ready by now."

He gave a gentle squeeze. "I would be content even if you were never ready."

"I know." She sighed and turned her head to find him watching. "I don't know why I'm scared because I know you wouldn't hurt me."

"Because all you know is for it to be horrendous. It will take time and tiny steps. I will watch my words."

Tears welled and she dropped her eyes. "I don't want you to have to watch your words. I don't want to be this fragile thing that you have to be careful around."

"You are not fragile, my Tanya." He brushed away her tear with the pad of his thumb. "There is nothing wrong with needing to be gentle for awhile, that's all. It won't be forever, and it's nothing to be ashamed of. Let me coddle you a bit. You do not have to be strong all the time." He lifted her hand to his lips.

She held his eyes. "I'm sorry I left you on the road."

The man cracked a smile, it somehow easing the heaviness in her heart. "I can't say I blame you, but thank you."

Charles fussed in her arms and turned his head to her with a wide open mouth.

Mark took the pastry as she settled Charles inside the cape to nurse. "He eats often like he's not satiated," he whispered in her ear. "Do you seem to have less to offer?"

With a slow nod, she met his eyes. "My dress is looser than it was last week."

He heaved a sigh and offered her a bite of his unwrapped sandwich.

Hunger had become harder to satiate in the past days, but there weren't funds for extra food. She absently ate what Mark offered as she helped Charles nurse now from the scarred side. When she turned her head for another bite, she met Mark's sad face.

"That's all I have," he apologized.

She looked down at his lap to see the two wrappers, and her eyes flew up to him. "You gave me yours too?"

"I wasn't hungry, and it's good for you to eat extra."

"I'm sorry - "

"I'm sorry that I don't have more." Concern filled his eyes. "I wish you would've told me that you were going hungry."

"Just in the past few days it feels like I could eat forever."

"With how thin you are again, extreme hunger is a sign of starvation," he said quietly and ran a hand through his hair. Then he leaned his elbows on his thighs and held his face in his hands. "At the next town with employment available, we stop. We are not traveling until you are fully recovered."

"But - "

He dropped his hands and gave a fierce look. "That's my answer, and there will be no arguing," he ordered.

"The coach fair has been paid for all the way to Colorado," Grandfather said at the next stop. "It will take weeks to come up with enough for us all again."

Mark nodded. "You all keep going. Tanya and I will come with the babe in a few weeks time once they're both stronger."

"But is it not better if we're all together?" Grandmama fretted.

Mark shook his head. "I will obtain employment here. It will help if you can obtain housing and employment in Colorado so things are ready when we arrive - I expect travel will be hard on Tanya and Charles. At least there will be housing and food to get us by until I can be employed in Colorado."

"But should one or both of you fall ill, my lord - "

"This is our best chance. She grows weaker each day and will not be able to handle poverty once we reach Colorado. I need food and shelter ready for her." He clapped Brigands on the shoulder. "I need you to do this."

"Yes, my lord. We will find the warmest house and the most food ever seen." The dear man took his duty very seriously.

After tearful goodbyes, she took Mark's arm and looked up at his profile. Worry etched his face, but he marched forward to an inn. "Say a prayer, Tanya."

She frowned in confusion.

He went up to the innkeeper's desk.

"Hello! Are you looking for a room?"

"Yes. What is your charge, my good man?" When the man stated the reasonable price, Mark didn't react for one moment. Two. Three. "Would you by chance charge less if it was just my wife and babe?" It was hard to tell if the humiliation or worry burned hotter in his voice.

"Mark, come," she said quietly. "We will find something for both of us."

The innkeeper looked at her and then Mark. "From England?"

Mark nodded and held his ground. "She's not well and the babe is not strong." He set down his last three coins on the counter. "One night. I will find employment and pay you the rest by the end of the week." It hurt to see Mark be so desperate that he was willing to beg.

"You will have debt for food and other lodging after a week."

"You'll be the first I pay."

"What is your trade?"

"Surgeon, but I can work in a factory or mine - "

"There are none of those around here, and a new surgeon came into town a couple months ago." The innkeeper sighed and leaned an elbow on the desk. "Your plan is no good."

Mark looked devastated, and hopeless and so very, very worried. He scooped up the coins with a single nod and turned with her.

"You look strong."

Mark turned.

"Does that limp stop you from carrying things?"

"No." He frowned.

"THere's a blacksmith. He is in need of a hand - he broke his hand last week and cannot work. If you do the labor, he'll likely split wages with you. It's hard and hot work."

Mark smiled and walked back to the desk. "Where can I find him?"

The man held up a wrapped hand. "This is my father's inn for me to work until I can get back to my job. The men around here are old or scrawny. My work has been piling up. Do the job good, and you and your wife can stay the week." He offered a hand.

Mark shook on the deal.

In the room upstairs, she let him take her cape and turned to face him. "Mark, blacksmithing is intense physical labor. I don't know that your back is ready for it."

He hung her cape on a hook behind the door without taking his off. "Beggars cannot be choosers, Tanya. My back has had two weeks to heal - "

"And that is not enough time for muscles to repair themselves."

The man gave a stern look. "It is enough. There's still the afternoon left. I saw the farrier shop just down the road should you need me. Stay in here and I'll be back tonight." He pecked a kiss on the lips. Then he was gone.

She took Charles downstairs. An older woman sat at the front desk. "Excuse me, may I ask if you know of any scullery maid or such jobs in town?"

The woman smiled and eyed Charles in her arms. "You have a job caring for your little one."

Her shoulders fell and she nodded. "We just came from England. My husband is working with the blacksmith so we have money for food and lodging. Thank you." She turned and headed for the stairs. Maybe getting her cape and going door to door at shops would turn up a job. Mark's back wouldn't tolerate blacksmithing for long.

"Are you any good at washing dishes?"

She turned, her heart beating faster. "I can do dishes with the babe tied on my back."

The woman smiled. "Follow me. The lunch crowd just finished in the dining room and the dinner crowd is about to start. You can help my daughter in exchange for free meals."

"Oh, thank you!"

It was harder standing at a sink for three hours with a babe on the back and sweating over hot water than expected. If the dinner crowd was much larger, it'd take until nearly midnight to get done. The daughter of about fourteen enjoyed talking, so it helped to pass the time.


"What are you doing?!" a deep voice boomed at half past eight that evening.

She startled as hard as the girl and spun around. Mark was covered in soot and sweat, his angry expression rightly making the girl duck behind her in fear. "There's no reason why you have to be the sole wage earner - "

"We stopped traveling so you could rest! How long have you been in here?!" His eyes glittered in a temper.

Nonstop since he left at three probably wasn't a good answer. Raising her chin, she held his glare. "I earned us free dinner."

An ungentlemanly curse flew from his lips. "Get upstairs!"

The girl burst into tears. "You can't beat her! She's just trying to help because she's worried about your back! She didn't do anything wrong!"

She turned and blinked in surprise. "He's not going to beat me. There, now, don't cry." Giving the girl a hug, she then held her at arm's length. "I daresay I might be deaf for a week when he finishes, but he won't hit me. Why would you say such a thing?"

"He's so angry. Papa always hit when he got angry."

"Where is your papa?"

"Dead a year ago."

Mark came over and set his hands on his hips, his temper still lending a fierce look. "I promised to never hit her, but I did not promise to not yell should she do something stupid like work when she has been ill." He threw a dark look.

She rolled her eyes and then wiped away the girl's tears. "Not all men cause pain. Do I look frightened of him? He has a hot temper, but it does not extend to his hand or words. Do not fret. Should you be worried, you may stop by my room to make sure I'm alright."

The girl nodded, seeming to feel better about it.

Mark stomped up the stairs behind her but refrained from slamming the door in the bedchamber. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking every inch the brawny blacksmith.

She sat on the bed and untied Charles to lay him down on a pallet on the floor to sleep. Then she turned to Mark, who still glared. And looked every bit a virile man. "Sweat and dirt look good on you." Even in a fit, he could still cause butterflies.

"Don't try to sweet talk me, woman. I gave explicit instructions to stay here and rest. I go out and slave away to come back and find you wearing yourself out!"

"Washing dishes is not wearing myself out. It's peaceful work, and Louisa is very good company."

"Did it by any chance occur to you that by handling dirty dishes, you are exposing yourself to illness?"

"The odds are very unlikely, as I'm careful to not touch my face or Charles unless I wash my hands twice. But I'm sure you're about to lecture me anyways." She smiled and folded her hands in her lap.

He stomped forward and lifted her ankle, pulling off her shoe. "See? Your ankles are swollen - "

"As anyone is want to do when standing for awhile."

"And more so when recovering from childbirth yet!" he snapped. Then he straightened and pulled her to her feet, setting his hands on her belly and back. "You goddamn have no baby weight left! That's supposed to take months to lose, not one!"

She smiled up at him. "There is a tub in the kitchen that I'm sure they'd let you use. I can help you wash."

"Don't change the subject! You aren't doing anything but getting in bed!" he barked.

"Yes, Mark." She looked up from beneath her eyelashes.

"I'm going to go wash!" he huffed. "Don't follow!"

"No, Mark." A shy smile tugged.

"I should discipline you, you know that?" He stormed to the door. "Would serve you right!"

She giggled. "I shall be a good girl and await my punishment when you return."

He spun and ground out a frustrated growl that portrayed his sexual tension too. "Dammit, woman! Do not make innuendo when I'm angry with you!" Then he jerked open the door and slammed it behind himself.

She stripped and washed in the basin on the dresser and then got in bed.

The man came in a bit later, his temper seeming to have calmed. He hung his freshly washed clothes over a chair and then peeled off the nightshirt that must be on loan. The poor thing shuffled to bed. Sighs and groans filled the air as he laid down. "I didn't know it was possible to be this exhausted."

"Does your back hurt?" She rolled toward him.

"The hot bath helped." He reached for her and stilled when he came in contact with bare skin. "Are you alright if I hold you like this?"

She scooted closer and draped a leg over his and rested her head on his shoulder. "You're in no condition to do anything about a naked woman in your bed."

"Never underestimate a man's motivation. But I fear it would take an extraordinary amount to make me wish to move again."

With a laugh, she kissed his cheek. "Then you shall have to be content with this." She draped half her body over him, snuggling perfectly close in the crook of his arm.

"Ah," he sighed and closed his eyes. "You are so soft in all the right places." His chest rose and fell a little slower and a little slower as he fell asleep.

"You will wear yourself to the bone, husband," she whispered and turned out the lantern.


At lunch the next day, she packed a picnic basket and walked to the blacksmith with Louisa.

Mark's sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and sweat dampened his hair even though he worked in the open winter air. His muscles strained against the fibers of his shirt as he held some piece of glowing metal with large pliers over a large metal block and hammered. The clank of his hard swings echoed through the street. Letting go of the hammer, he pulled a handkerchief out of his leather apron and wiped his face and neck.

Dear heaven, there was something very appealing about a strong man bending iron. She stepped under the roof of where Mark and the other man worked, the temperature quite hot near the fire. Louisa held back a bit. "Mark?"

He turned and smiled. "Tanya. What are you doing here?"

"We brought you lunch." She held up the basket. "Sandwiches and we thought you'd be hot, so we made ice for your water."

"Ice," he sighed wistfully.

She pulled out Louisa's old handkerchiefs. "Maybe if you fill these with ice and tie them to the back of your necks, it won't get so hot."

"Oh, I could kiss you," Mark breathed and gladly tied the ice pack around his neck. His eyes rolled back. "This is heaven. I could never be a blacksmith - too much like burning in Hell."

The blacksmith laughed and lifted his bandaged hand to wave. Louisa broke away to take him a sandwich and ice.

"Are you resting?" Mark's hungry bite into the sandwich took a quarter of it out.

"Yes, I'm being a good girl. An agreement was made with Louisa's mother that if I do lunch and dinner dishes, we can have free meals."

He stopped eating long enough to give her a look and release a long sigh through his nose. "You and I did not agree on that."

Raising her chin, she held back a smile. "It is easy enough work, and that much more we can save on trying to get to Colorado."

His expression sobered instantly.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "I should get back to work. Thank you for lunch." The man pecked a kiss on her cheek.

Louisa kept up conversation all afternoon, but her mind kept wandering back to whatever could be bothering Mark.


When he came upstairs after bathing that evening, she sat in bed nursing Charles. He sat in bed and stared at the sheets for a moment before turning to her. "We need to talk about Colorado."

"He's hungry still, and I need help." She turned to offer her back. "What about Colorado?"

The man scooted closer and reached around to help Charles get food from her other side. "Have you heard any of the news about what happened a couple months ago in Colorado?" His voice was very solemn.

She shook her head and looked over her shoulder at him.

"They're calling it the Sand Creek Massacre. The U.S. Calvary did some terrible things to some Native American tribes in Colorado. Many of the slain were women and children, Tanya."

She swallowed hard. "Grandfather's people?"

He pressed his lips together for a moment. "I don't know for certain, but my understanding from the location he spoke about is it could be. Your grandparents would've been on their way to England when it occurred. There's much unrest about Native Americans out West." He released a heavy sigh and held her gaze, regret shining in his eyes. "I'm afraid to take you out there. Your features are strong enough that you cannot pass for an Englishwoman if anyone knows the appearance of a Native American."

Her heart pounded. "But - "

"Tanya, they are not just killing, they are mutilating and torturing to death. I would fear every day that someone would realize your heritage. I'm ashamed to ask it of you, but should someone ask, you are to say you are Spanish. Odds are the people here do not know that appearance to question it."

"Grandmama and Grandfather must not know. When they reach there - "

"They will likely receive word before getting that far. We will stay here in hopes that they return. I have a telegram waiting at the destination for Brigands telling them to come back."

"But the English that Grandfather spoke of in the town sound like they are friends of the Natives. They must be providing aid. If - "

He turned to face her. "Tanya, lands of the Natives have been cut to a thirteenth of what they were agreed to be given. The men are not given the rights of a white man, and the women...Tanya, I fear what white men would do to a Native woman." Tears welled in his eyes. "Unspeakable things were done to women - far worse than what you've endured. Last month there was a retaliation attack and there is rumor that another is happening and spreading into Nebraska. I wouldn't deny you finding your people, but I won't take you to the middle of a war zone."

"So they must come up with another agreement to end the war - "

"And you would trust the government to honor this treaty when they have ignored ones past? One man is all it takes to cause unrest. From what your grandfather says, the Natives do not have guns and weapons to be able to fight well should even a drunken band of thieves attack."

"Mark, I won't hide my whole life!"

"I'm not taking you there." He shook his head and got up and poured a glass of water from the pitcher.

"Mark - "

"No!" He whirled around, his eyes fiery. "They gut babes out of Native women to impale the babes on sticks! They mutilate women and children in horrific ways and leave them behind to die! I am not taking you there! This is not open for discussion!" he boomed.

"But - "

"Enough!" He slammed a fist down on the vanity, making it rattle with the force.

She blinked in startled surprise.

He stepped closer and pointed a finger at the ground as he snarled, "I will not hesitate to use my legal rights as your husband - and with enough coin I will find a priest willing to forge a license - to stop you from going to Colorado. This is not a game or a tantrum," he snarled. "Make no mistake that I forbid you to go."

A choked laugh of shock came out. "You wouldn't forbid me anything,"

"Watch me," he growled, his eyes dark and stormy. "This is a matter of life and death, and I do not jest. I will go to any lengths you push me to."

With a heavy heart, she nodded. Instinct said that this would be the only time Mark would ever forbid anything, and he would indeed go to any lengths to do what he thought was protecting her and Charles from harm.

He sat on the edge of the bed, presenting his back, and leaned his elbows on his knees. "I do not find pleasure or pride in doing this to you," he said in a low, solemn voice.

"Do we shame you?"

He turned, with grief reflecting in his eyes. "Never. And I would hope you know that."

She nodded and sniffled. "Do you think Grandmama and Grandfather will come back, or will they want to stay in Colorado?"

"I don't know." He scooted back to sit against the headboard and pulled her closer to curl up in his arms, with Charles done nursing. "I should hope they would to be with you, but they have family there who might need them very much right now. Should they choose to stay permanently in Colorado, we will figure out how close we can safely live near them."

"Do you think Papa took Mama away because he was afraid she'd be hurt?"

A deep sigh. "Perhaps there was unrest and he worried. Maybe he kept you away from them out of fear that you'd one day return to Colorado. I don't know."


She stood at the sink a few days later, absently washing plates. Mark needed longer and longer backrubs at night to attempt to counter the pain he caused from intense labor using muscles not yet healed. Nibbling her lip, she stared at the bubbles in the sink. Dishwashing wasn't exactly reaping benefits when eight hours of washing earned three meals a day for two people. Something had to give, and worry said that it would be Mark's back.

"You're so quiet today." Louisa's voice broke into the thoughts.

Offering a smile, she shrugged. And regretted it the minute her back protested due to the weight of the babe all day, every day. Pretty soon Mark would put an end to this because her weight continued to slip down, and Charles's barely nudged up. "Just thinking."

"Tanya!"

Poor Louisa nearly hit the roof as Mark shot into the kitchen all dirty and sweaty from work.

"Come! The town physician died in his sleep last night." He held out a hand, his eyes a bit wide in his hurry.

Her eyebrows rose and she dried her hands. "That's awful, but what do you want me to do?"

The man grabbed her hand, a smile splitting his face. "Yes, but it is good fortune for us. You are the new town nurse." Then he dragged her out of the kitchen.

"What?! What do you mean I'm the nurse?"

At the front desk, he stopped long enough to untie Charles from her back and hand him to the innkeeper's widow, who wore a big smile. "One of the townsfolk has what sounds like appendicitis. You're going to help me do surgery, Tanya." Then he pulled her to the front door.

"Wait! We need cloaks and you don't have tools and you're dirty - "

He looked down at himself. "Yes, that is a problem." The man charged up the stairs with her in tow to the bedroom.

Inside, he ripped off his shirt and washed in the basin. "Dress, Tanya. Should his appendix burst, he's dead."

She untied the empty wrap from Charles and grabbed their caps. "You don't have another shirt - "

The man pulled on the short nightshirt and tucked the ends into his pants. "It'll have to do. We stop by the surgeon's office on the way and grab his bag. Come!"

Apparently the town had no qualms about Mark stepping in because two men had a buggy at the ready outside with a surgeon's bag loaded. "A half mile south, the farm is on the right. It be Frank Horris you lookin' fer!"

Mark pulled her up and snapped the reigns. "When we get there, you get a pot of boiling water and two basins and soap. Who knows how well he cleaned his tools, so we will boil them. While that happens, we'll wash. You will fetch the tools while I wash his belly..." Mark continued with explicit instructions for how this surgery would be over and done within fifteen minutes.

"And if it burst already, what then?"

He met her eyes, his expression suddenly very solemn. "Then you get to learn how we tell a patient and family that he's going to die a terrible death."

Her heart beat faster in dread. "Mark, I know nothing about surgery. You need someone who knows and is fast - "

"I need someone with a good head and who is good enough to do something for the first time as if she's been doing it for years. Do exactly what I say and everything will be fine."

He pulled the buggy up a drive where two young boys waved him down. Mark grabbed the medical bag and, with one arm, swung her down without breaking stride to the front door.

"Papa's in here!" The boys ran to the house where an older son opened the door. Mark gave a nod but darted straight after the boys down the hall.

A woman sat on the edge of the bed next to a man writhing in pain. "I don't know what's wrong," she wept. "He was fine during lunch and then all the sudden fell over saying his side hurts."

"Where exactly does it hurt?" Mark dropped the bag and pulled up the man's shirt.

"Here," the man gasped and pointed to his lower right side. "Stabbing pain."

Mark looked at the woman. "We need boiling water and Scotch or whiskey. He has appendicitis. As long as it hurts, it means we can do surgery and get it out before it kills him."

"There's water over the fire," the wife sobbed.

A hysterical woman wouldn't help anything. Confidence took hold - confidence that shouldn't have been there, except Mark needed her help. She grabbed the wife's hand and pulled her out. "Come help me. Your husband needs the water put in two basins - one for my husband to clean his hands and the other to make sure the tools are clean so as not to infect him." She looked at the young man wringing his hands in the hall. "Fetch the strongest liquor you have in the house. We'll use it to clean his skin."

Moments later, she dashed into the bedchamber with a basin of hot water. The wife followed with another and one of the little boys ran in with Scotch.

Mark grabbed the Scotch and dumped it all over the man's lower abdomen as the man laid naked on the bed. "Wash, Tanya. Everyone else, out so we do not cause him infection with coughs or touching."

She herded everyone out and then dumped the tools into a basin that Mark had selected from the bag and set aside.

"Am I...gonna die, Doc?" The poor man was in a sweat from the pain.

"You're damn well not going to on my watch. Tanya, chloroform. We'll get it out, and in a few weeks you'll be back to work." He continued scrubbing in the basin.

Digging through the bag, she doused a rag and held it to the man's nose. "You'll feel much better when you wake up." The man's eyes closed and she glanced at Mark. "How long?"

"Give it another few seconds," he said over his shoulder. "Hold your breath and then throw the rag out the window so we all don't pass out."

Tossing the rag and Mark's dirty water out the window, she hurried over to wash now that Mark was done.

"Wash three times, especially under your nails. Then I need you over here." He grabbed a scalpel out of the basin of hot water.

Her heart pounded. It was exhilarating and terrifying and amazing and nauseating as she watched over her shoulder.

Mark made an incision with swift precision, cutting through the layers to get inside. He grabbed a forceps and reached right inside the man. He pulled out a long, slimy thing that looked like raw sausage. A tiny little tail-like sausage stuck out of the end of it. "Do you want to hold or cut?"

She blinked. "Um, hold is probably safer."

He gave her the forceps. "Do not let his intestines touch anything because the field isn't clean." He grabbed scissors.

Her eyebrows shot up. "These are intestines?"

"They're not chocolate," he said dryly and made a small cut next to the protrusion. "You have to tie off the vessel because the intestines are highly vascularized. Then tie off the appendix and snip." He used a rag to catch the little sausage that he cut off.

"What is that?" It was disgustingly intriguing.

He dropped the rag and tissue into a bucket at his feet. Then he swapped the scissors for sutures. "That, my dear, is the appendix. Did you see how it's swollen? Infection is raging inside. Now, we do a purse string stitch around the appendectomy site so it protrudes into the intestine rather than make a pocket for an infection to return." Then he took the forceps from her and dropped the intestines back in.

"That's it? That's what could kill him?"

The man wiggled his eyebrows and offered a crooked grin. "Yummy, isn't it?" Then he started stitching the abdominal muscles.

A laugh burst out. "That's gross! You like to joke during surgery, don't you?"

"That would be sick and unprofessional while we are digging shit out of a man."

Clever. Quite literally it was shit. She snorted a laugh and covered her face with her sleeve in embarrassment.

He chuckled. "I'm glad you like my twisted medical humor. Surgery is too stressful without a bit of laughter. Anna - " The words cut off, as if he realized what he said.

"Anna what? Didn't find your humor amusing in the ballroom?" she teased.

But he didn't smile. Instead, his eyes remained locked on creating very precise sutures on the man's skin. "She never had any interest in hearing about what I did all day, much less laughed at my jokes. A surgeon was not the profession of a gentleman." He shrugged but failed to hide the hurt.

Stepping shoulder to shoulder, she cut the suture string for him. "You have proven time and time again that you are not just a surgeon, but a genius one. It is a profession that brings you happiness and pride." She met his eyes. "If having passion and intelligence to save lives is a non-gentleman's profession, I'm not sure that I wish to meet a gentleman."

He searched her eyes, seeming to take that quite to heart. "All my years at university did not teach me as much as you have in these past months," he said quietly, his voice deep and intimate. "I've met duchesses and queens, but not until recently did I ever meet a woman whom there wasn't a title worthy enough."

Tears welled. He had a way of saying the simplest things and bestowing them with great honor.

He cleared his throat, as if suddenly self-conscious with the raw intimacy of the moment, and handed her a bandage. "Wrap him while I find dry sheets to get him decent again." The man swept out of the room with the basin of tools.

She turned so as not to witness the poor man's nakedness as she worked a bandage around his middle.

Footsteps sounded from behind. "Forgive me, I should've asked if you're comfortable touching a man." Mark set sheets on the bed.

"I'm just...he just..." Her cheeks burned hot as she avoided his eyes. "He is nearly your age but does not look a thing like you."

Mark cracked a smile and took the bandages from her to do it himself. "Because of religious or health reasons, some men are circumsized."

Oh goodness. That section of his textbook made more sense now. She turned and began washing her hands for something to do to hide her hot face.

"Should you practice medicine with me, you'll become accustomed to seeing nudity. It becomes scientific after a time rather than embarrassing." When she didn't say anything, he added, "Should it make you uncomfortable, I can work on males alone, Tanya."

"No, I just..." She turned and dried her hands on her skirt. With a furrowed brow, she stared at the floor for a moment to gather thoughts and then met his gaze. "I think I want toget consummation over with."

His eyebrows shot up and he cleared his throat. "We'll discuss this on the way back. His wife is waiting to see him."

Mark took the horses at a leisurely pace on the way to the inn, and the silence dragged on for several minutes. "Tanya, I do not know that rushing into it is a wise choice. We also don't know yet if the surgery worked for you to be able to accommodate a man. Nerves may not be healed yet and what would normally not cause pain might - "

"Mark? I wish for you to first test and see if it will work and show me what goes where." She drew a steadying breath. "He did things and I'm confused what is supposed to happen."

"I will do whatever makes you feel safest."


"Kiss me," he breathed against her lips in bed hours later.

"Why?" She probably shouldn't squeeze his hips so hard. Letting go, she clutched handfuls of the sheets to brace for intrusion. He sprinkled kisses along her neck, but that wouldn't make it hurt less. He needed to just get it over with, just figure out if consummation would be possible.

"Because you will relax better if we kiss. It won't hurt you if you want me," he purred in a husky tone that would've caused shivers in any other situation. His hand slid down in between when she didn't kiss. "Let me please my wife. If in the throws of passign you still wish me to see if we can consummate, then we can cross that bridge." His lips returned to brush over hers.

Her heart beat faster from the magic his hand wove. "If we fit, are you going - "

"We will decide later," he whispered and put her arms around him. "Be with me, not him. I won't hurt you." He rolled her on top.

That simple promise, and without the frightening sensation of being pinned under a man, made the fear fade away.

Her heart raced with the pleasure he created. His tongue led a seductive dance with hers. There was a strange but wonderful fullness sensation from his hand that was immediately gone again. She broke the kiss and looked at him in confusion.

"Did it pain you?" His chest rose and fell against hers, and his breath puffed over her lips as he held her eyes.

She shook her head.

"I think we would fit." He pressed a kiss to her brow.

Leaning up on her elbows, she held his eyes. "Show me how it is you would do it. I won't be scared knowing what to expect."

He rolled to be on top and settled his weight, holding her gaze the entire time and stroking her hair. "Are you frightened with me on you?"

"No," she whispered and ran her hands up and down his back. "Maybe."

"I won't hurt you. Tell me if it starts to be uncomfortable," he whispered and kissed her neck. "I'll say before I enter. All I ask is you to not fear me. I love you."

"I love you." Her heart pounded so hard it hurt as he kissed under her ear. "Mark?" Her voice shook.

"Do you wish to stop?" He held very still.

She shook her head and wrapped her arms under his and held his shoulders. Her face crumpled.

His back coiled in a beautiful arc under her hands, and he created pressure and then released. "Don't weep, sweetheart. Let me simply pleasure you so you aren't afraid. We need not go further."

"Just do it." Her nails bit into his shoulders.

"Breathe." He pulled her hands around to lay against his chest and pulled back enough to meet her eyes. "You have the power to push me away." Laying his hand over hers, he searched her eyes. "Feel my heart beating. Consummation is not just physical. My heart will beat with yours - your pleasure will be mine, your fear will be my fear and my strength will be yours. We are equals, Tanya. I will not force anything upon you. Do you truly wish for this to continue?"

She sniffled and nodded.

He raised onto his elbows and guided her hand down. "You understand that this part of me goes where you birthed Charles?"

"While your fingers go in my..." It was too humiliating to say. "And your other hand holds onto my throat for leverage." Tears fell. "I don't understand why you say it won't hurt, but just get it done." She pushed on his chest enough to make him lift himself. Then she turned over and braced for the pain.

"What are you - ? Oh, Jesus, no." He rolled her over and held her eyes. "We are like this facing each other." He settled his weight down and held her shoulders from underneath. "My hands will stay right here. You put your hands against my chest so you can push me away if you get frightened." When she did, he held her eyes. "Now I kiss you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, my lady love. There is no grabbing your throat or being so rough that I need leverage."

His kisses very gradually stirred desire. "I love you, Tanya," he whispered between the softest kisses sprinkled down her throat. "You have my body to take as you will and my heart to hold forever. I would offer my life to slay your dragons."

Her hands slipped around his shoulders to pull him closer, needing a hug off comfort that he readily offered. "I love you."

"Kiss me because you want to," he breathed against her lips and waited. "Because you want a poor surgeon who has nothing to offer but his heart."

"I want more than that - I want Forever with you."

A breathless sigh of contentment escaped his lips right before she captured his mouth and grew lost in his kiss.

She gasped when his back curled with such gracefulness and he joined her body. There was no pain but exquisite pleasure and serenity. Her body arched up on its own, bringing him closer to be one. Then she stilled, soaking up the beauty of this moment of becoming his in every way possible.

He trembled in her arms but remained still. His heart thundered against her chest, and he panted where he buried his face against her neck. "I love you," he whispered.

The power of those words, spoken in such a vulnerable and intimate moment, ended the rest of the fear. It was like glass shattering in thousands of crystal splinters, offering fresh air that hadn't been tasted in nearly a year. This is what it felt like to breathe again, to not longer be a prisoner. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what, my love?" he breathed in her ear.

"For setting me free."

He lifted his head and held her eyes, a tender smile on his lips. "You did that yourself, Tanya."

Reaching up, she stroked his cheek. It seemed impossible to love him enough. "Make love to me."

Something in those blue eyes changed - they somehow became more tender as he stroked her cheek. His back coiled with such beauty and released very gently while holding her gaze.

Her eyes rolled back and her body arched to meet him in a slow dance. His lips caressed her neck as her head fell back in pleasure. She laced her fingers with his, not afraid of him pressing her hands into the bed in exchange for more closeness with him.

There was no fear or pain...only beautiful, tender passion and soul-binding love.