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“No. But I guess I got to, huh?”
Leah flitted distractedly about the kitchen while Teddy sobbed out the whole story. She noticed that he left out whatever it was the Poletti boy had said that had started off the tussle.
Thad did not press him to explain, and after a while the two of them disappeared. Oh, no! Thad would not whip him, would he?
She heard their raised voices on the porch and, after a while, Thad’s low chuckle. When they came inside for supper, Teddy was grinning.
“Guess what, Leah? Pa’s gonna teach me how to fight.”
She nodded and caught Thad’s gaze. “Turn the other cheek” apparently did not always work out here in this rough country. At that moment she made a decision of her own. She would teach Teddy the tricks she had learned to protect herself from the village bullies back in China. She would not tell Thad what she was doing—she would just do it.
As soon as the dishes were washed and put away, she crawled into bed and lay planning what maneuvers to show Teddy, and sorting out her mixed feelings about her marriage.
She liked Thad more than she had ever liked a man before, but he did puzzle her. She thought he liked her, but after that one night when he had kissed her, he had never approached her the way a husband would approach his wife.
Why? Was it only his preoccupation with the wheat field? With each passing day the question grew more insistent.
Now she could hear thumping sounds coming from the living room, and Thad’s voice, then more bumps that sounded like something hitting the floor. Then Teddy groaned, and Leah didn’t relax until she heard his bubbling laughter and Thad’s low voice saying something.
She curled up into a ball and closed her eyes. She had no right to fault Thad for anything. Even if he thought marrying her had been a mistake, he had saved her from a life of bondage, rescued her from a fate she could scarcely imagine, and given her not only his name, but a home and a purpose.
The man was an overworked, worried rancher with a growing son. She had no right to feel lonely; she was simply not included in Thad’s careworn life. Perhaps all American wives were treated the same.
Hours later she felt Thad’s weight beside her. She rolled toward him, seeking his warmth. “Is Teddy all right?”
“Sure he is.”
“Are you all right?” She held her breath, but he did not answer her question.
“Know what I think?” he said after a moment.
“No. What?”
“I think you have a champion knight, like Ivanhoe.”
“What? I do not understand.”
Thad laid his hand on the back of her neck, swept aside her hair and pressed his lips just below her earlobe. “Teddy’s fight was about you.”
“Oh.” She knew that much; she had not expected Teddy to tell Thad. “But Teddy does not like me. He resents my presence.”
Thad gave a short laugh. “Could be that when you read about Ivanhoe you’re teaching him something about chivalry. Seems the Poletti boy said something insulting about you, and Teddy smacked him in the mouth so hard he’s got tooth scrapes on his knuckles.”
Leah twisted toward him. “You are proud of him!”
“I am that.”
“Oh, no. Thad, we cannot allow him—”
“Aye, we can, lass. ’Tis what all redblooded Scotsmen would do—protect their women.”
Thad propped himself up on one elbow so he could see Leah’s face. Something was different tonight. He couldn’t put his finger on it, just…something about her seemed…well, softer. More vulnerable.
Hell and damnation, you randy fool! She’d been waiting since their wedding night a month ago to be a wife in more than name.
He pulled her close and then his breathing stopped.
Deep down he wasn’t sure she still wanted him, at least not the way he wanted her. Worse, he wasn’t sure what he would let himself do about it, even if she did want him.
Chapter Fourteen
Some nights, like tonight, Thad got hard just touching Leah’s skin. He wanted to hold her against his body and kiss her until his brain shut out all those thoughts about being sensible. About being fair to her.
This was sure as hell one of those nights, because he could scarcely keep from rolling her over into his arms. He so wanted to make her his.
He couldn’t let himself think about it. But with a groan of frustration he realized he couldn’t not think about it. About her—this woman who had moved into his house and into his life.
He had to admit Leah was moving into his heart, and he was beginning to be terrified in a way he only half understood.
He had loved Hattie. When she died his life had stopped, but now he was starting to feel alive again. He felt something for Leah—in fact, he felt a great deal for her. And deep down it scared him. If he let himself love Leah and then lost her, he would never recover.
