"What will he think?"

"That it's his job."

After they'd finished eating, he carried, heated and poured water into the tin tub, then left her to bathe.

Three quarters of an hour later, he returned and used the water himself, then bailed it and stored the tub.

She hadn't resisted him at the dinner table earlier. She would never resist. The thought disgusted at the

same time it enllamed. How pathetic was it to want a woman whose desire to please him was only to

ensure her place? He didn't bother with a shin. It was dark enough now, and he strode to her room and knocked. He watched the crack beneath the door darken as her lamp was extinguished. She'd been expecting him. "Come in."

He closed the door behind him and took a few-steps forward. In the darkness, he didn't locate her right off.

"It's okay that you don't want me to see." Her voice came from the bed. "I understand." It was okay by him that she didn't want to see, as well. He found her sitting on the edge of the mattress when his knees touched hers. She'd left her hair down and he threaded his fingers through the barely damp tresses spread over her back and shoulders. She wore a satiny gown that allowed his rough touch to glide over her curves and capture her breasts.

He was fascinated with her body and silently cursed being blind to its lush secrets. He let his hands and fingers show him her beauty, acquaint him with the tantalizing swells and hollows.

She skimmed a palm over his bare skin above his trousers and his muscles jumped. Wrapping an arm around his waist, she pulled him close and pressed her cool cheek to his heated skin. Her breath fluttered the hairs at his belly and created a fire deep inside. When she kissed him there, he drew away and coaxed her to rise up and slide off the gown. He lifted her easily, moving her to the center of the bed.

Before coming back to where she lay, he shucked out of his trousers. Her mouth on his skin had disturbed him, but given him ideas...burning ideas... and permission.

Noah nuzzled her neck, kissed her mouth, then her shoulder, and lowered the caress to her chest. She captured his face with both hands.

"My beard bother you?"

"No. I wanted you to kiss me."

He discovered the texture of her tongue against his, the silkiness of her inner lip, the satin skin of her neck and breasts. In her throaty responses he recognized that his pleasure in his new wife had only just begun.

The first weeks of June brought more sun and blooming roses. Early one morning midmonth, before the sun grew warm, Kate passed through the dining room in search of something to occupy her time. She had dusted and scrubbed and arranged and still, nervous energy prompted her to find tasks. She discovered a tarnished silver service in the marble-topped sideboard and polished the set until it gleamed. It would look handsome beside her tea set, so she arranged the pieces to her liking.

A movement on the other side of the lace curtains caught her attention and she stepped to the window. Noah moved among the rosebushes, unaware of being watched. His hat lay near a patch of crimson nasturtium at the edge of the garden and his dark hair fell forward to his shoulders.

He straightened and glanced at the sky, and as he did so, his hair fell away from his face. The skin near his eye was puckered and pulled his lid up slightly. Kate stopped breathing at the sight of the ragged scars. She could only imagine what he'd suffered as a young man. Pain from injuries, yes, but the pain of rejection must have been equally as bad.

Through a crack in the dusty-smelling lace panels, she watched him bend and loosen dirt around the plants with a forked tool of some sort. Occasionally he used a pair of pruning shears to cut away a dying bloom. He disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a pail of water, which he poured around the base of one bush, then went for more water. He continued until each bush had been given a full pail of water.

The patience and care he used in tending his flowers was a contrast to the gruff uncompromising way he spoke to and dealt with people. He held the world?including her?at arm's length, but she believed she understood why.

He'd been tender with her when he'd come to her bed. Considerate. Accommodating. In their two brief encounters, she sensed he hadn't come to her because he'd wanted to, but out of a sense of duty and obligation. She had hoped to soften his heart toward her, but she had so few opportunities. When he entered the house of an evening, he held himself apart from her as he had since the beginning, not even allowing her to sit near him during dinner.

She watched as he finished his task, gathered the pail and tools and placed his hat on his head. With a last satisfied glance at his roses, Noah went on about his other work.

Pulling over an oak chair, Kate stood on it to remove the curtains from their rods to be washed. With effort, she pulled and pushed until the three windows were all open and the cool morning air drifted in. The scent of roses and damp earth wafted in, just as she'd imagined. Kate closed her eyes and took pleasure in her surroundings and her new life.

Turning to glance around the unused room, she imagined people seated at the long table, guests talking and laughing. How she would enjoy sharing a meal and a day or an evening with friends, showing them Noah's rose garden, and perhaps serving tea. Once she had the idea, she couldn't shake it.

She thought about an invitation the whole time she carefully laundered the lace curtains and hung them outdoors to dry. She considered a menu as she polished woodwork and washed windows.

She searched and found a tablecloth for the table, but no napkins or china. That evening, she served their dinner in the dining room.

He glanced around. "Looks nice."

"The silver set is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Was my mother's. Never had a use for it."

"So many things in your home have a history, don't they? That's makes them all the more special. Do you

mind that I got out the tea service?"

"No."

"I didn't find napkins or china. I was wondering if perhaps...well, if I could take in laundry to earn

enough to buy a few things."

"Don't be ridiculous. You want things, go buy them."

"But.. .I haven't any money."

"Don't need any. Put whatever you want on my account."

"I'd feel better helping to pay."

"No. You won't take in laundry."

She studied him, but he cocked his head to the side so she couldn't see his expression. "I was thinking

about something else."

"What?"

"Wouldn't it be nice to invite a few people to dinner? It wouldn't have to be a Sunday. It could be of an

evening."

"What for?"

"To visit, of course. To be sociable. Have friends."

"I'm not sociable. Everyone knows that."

She studied her plate. She knew, but she'd hoped he might consider a tiny change. Wouldn't benefit her to push him, however, so she'd best leave well enough alone.

"You want your friends to come of a daytime, go right ahead."

She looked up. "Do you mean it?"

"You're not a prisoner. Or a guest. This is your home. Do as you please. Just don't include me."

Quite naturally, a smile of anticipation and appreciation revealed her feelings. "Thank you, Noah. I'll invite company for next Monday, perhaps Tuesday. That will give me time to shop and bake and plan ahead. I'll invite Annie and Charmaine, of course. I could invite their mothers, too, and Diana."

"I'll go visit Annie first. I've been to tea at her home, and I want to find out just how I should do things. I've never done anything like this before, so I'm sure I'll be nervous. I want everything to be perfect."

Noah watched her get up and start to clear the table as she chattered. Why a body would deliberately want to do something that made her nervous, he couldn't figure, but just the idea had her delirious with anticipation, and he aimed to keep her happy.

"I have a blue-and-white dress I haven't worn yet. I've been saving it for something special." Her eyes sparkled in the lantern light when she turned a smile his way.

Her smiles had a way of infusing him with heat and eliciting a physical response he had no control over. His swift reaction drove his thoughts in another direction, so he let his gaze take in the swell of her breasts under her apron.

More than two weeks had passed since he'd been to her room. She seemed satisfied with their arrangement as it stood now, so he wouldn't push himself on her.

She went to the kitchen and returned with a flour sack wrapped around the handle of the coffeepot. She carried it to where he sat. As she filled his cup, he noticed the pair of rings she wore. Levi's ring on her finger was always a good reminder of his status, always helped him keep things in perspective. She'd been his brother's wife first. Noah was just the man who'd picked up the pieces after Levi had made a mess of things. She hadn't chosen Noah.

She'd needed him, but she hadn't chosen him. There was a world of difference.

Katherine turned down the wick on the lamp on the table, leaving only the wall lamp glowing. After doing so, she took a chair beside Noah. In the dimness, she turned to him.

Always accommodating, he thought. Always striving to please him and to meet his needs, no matter how inconvenient or strange.

"This isn't a necessary occasion," she said softly. "It's just a silly woman's fancy to invite friends. I don't want to take advantage of your generosity or make you uncomfortable. This is your home, Noah."

"It's your home, too. Whatever makes you happy is fine with me."

She reached for his hand where it lay on the table and he instinctively wanted to pull it away. Leaning toward him, she uncurled his fingers and cupped his palm against her cheek. "You care so much that I'm happy, do you?"

Her skin was warm velvet against his palm. He'd never known anything as sleek and perfect as this beautiful Katy. The ugliness of his scarred palm against her skin was an abomination and his stomach lurched at the defilement. He did pull his hand away then, refusing to see the disappointment in her eyes.

Yes, he wanted her happy. If she left now, his life would be empty. But she was taking all the measures to make this work, he thought with a prick of consciousness. She went out of her way to please him and he hadn't the slightest idea how to make her happy?except to provide for her and to make her life as comfortable as possible. He was keeping his distance to spare her. What else was there?

He knew most of her thoughts, since she never held anything inside. He should know what she would like. Guests to dinner, but that was out of the question. He thought back further. She liked to look at the stars. But she might get the wrong idea if he suggested stargazing. She loved flowers and the abundant countryside. She'd once asked him to show her the river.

"Tomorrow," he said.

She raised a dark puzzled gaze.

"Thought I'd go fishing in the morning."

She merely nodded.

"If you want to come, be ready at six. Pack something so you won't get hungry."

Her confused expression turned to smiles. "That sounds lovely! A picnic! It's something I've always wanted to do. It will be ever so much fun. Oh, thank you for thinking of it and inviting me."

All right, a picnic then. Had he just invited her on a picnic? He hadn't thought so, but somehow that's what had been arranged. His thoughts skidded to his men and to what they'd think about their boss taking a day off during the week to go on a picnic. Not a one would say anything, but he could well imagine their eyebrows shooting up.

Well, hell, it was his ranch and he paid them to work for him and if they didn't like it that he took a day off for the first time in.. .well, for the first time, they could eat dirt and he wouldn't care.

"We'll head out early," he said.

Looking up into his eyes, she smiled as though he'd given her the deed to a gold mine. That smile was worth more than gold. If he had a gold mine he'd give it to her right then and there. A picnic would have to do for now.

Chapter Ten.

Noah hadn't intended to cause her more work, but the smell of frying chicken woke him while it was still dark, and he knew she was down there cooking. Eager to get away before the hands discovered his plans, he washed and dressed and buckled on his .45.