.
away before it goes off? There won’t be much to trade if you pull that trigger.” He touched the bandage on his arm. “How badly am I wounded?”
“Bad enough to be unconscious since yesterday. Don’t pull on that bandage.”
“I don’t suppose this settlement of yours has a doctor, does it?”
“No, we take care of our own. I know how to make poultices and change bandages. Just don’t try running away. You wouldn’t get far on that leg.”
“I’m not in the mood to run anywhere. Where is my uniform?”
“I’ve got it soaking. You can’t wear it like it is. And I hid your boots so you may as well decide to stay put.”
“Why would I want to leave? You’ve already said that you’ll trade me for your fiancé.” He watched her carefully. If he could get her to let her guard down, he might be able to escape. His boots wouldn’t be that hard to find in a cabin no larger than this one must be. As for his uniform being wet, he had worn it wet every time it rained.
“I guess that makes sense.” She put her head to one side as if she were trying to decide if she should believe him. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded. He wasn’t, but he knew he would need to get his strength back if he was going to escape.
“I’ll be back after I fix you something to eat.” She turned and left the room.
Caleb waited until she was out of sight, then tried to swing his legs out of bed. Pain shot through him and he suppressed a groan. Carefully he pushed the quilt aside and probed the bandage on his leg. He was hurt more than he had thought. There was no way he could walk on his leg. He couldn’t even get out of bed. He refused to think that the bullet might have shattered the bone. If it had, he might never walk again. He lay back and closed his eyes.
Megan put the rifle in easy reach against the cabinet and reached in the water where the uniform was soaking. It was heavy and almost black in the water. She held it up to drain, then squeezed as much water as she could from the fabric. Did Seth have such a warm coat? She tried not to think about that.
When she had it as dry as possible, she took the uniform to the fire and hung it over the rocker to dry. She didn’t dare risk putting it on the line outside. To ensure it would dry quickly, she added another log to the fire. Although she had no intention of returning the uniform to him until he was well enough to travel, she couldn’t risk having Bridget or her mother come in and see it drying.
While she waited, she washed the long underlinen and bandages, then put the bandages in a pot to boil by the fire. She hung the underlinen on the chair with the uniform.
“Miss Llewellyn?” Caleb called from the other room.
“What is it?”
“Who won the battle?”
“I’d say we did. Mama said your side was in retreat when they were seen going down the mountain. I couldn’t tell from what I saw in the clearing. There was nothing left but dead horses.”
“Did you say my horse was dead?”
Megan went to the bedroom door. “If you were riding a big bay with a blaze face, he was. There was such a horse lying beside you. You’re lucky he didn’t pin you underneath him. I might not have been able to get you out.”
“I probably owe you my life. Thank you.”
Her eyes met his and she found it difficult to turn away. His silvery eyes were hypnotic and seemed able to look into her soul. “You’re welcome. I would have done as much for your horse, but he was already dead.”
“Thanks,” he said wryly.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant that I love animals and would have taken care of him. Were you fond of him?”
“Not very. He was a good animal, but I didn’t have him that long.”
Megan leaned against the doorjamb and folded her arms. “That just goes to show how different we are. I could love an animal at first sight. Especially if it was one I considered to be a ‘good animal.’”
“You learn not to be attached to horses in a war. I’ve had several shot out from under me. I stayed detached on purpose.”
“Can you do that? Remain detached? I’ve never learned how to turn my feelings on and off like that.” She knew she was goading him, turning his own words against him, but she was upset. “You take Seth, for instance. He’s fond of drink, and if the truth were told, of loose women as well. But I don’t stop loving him. I can’t. If I could, I might be less human.”
“Or you might be simply discerning. Why do you want to marry a man who drinks and runs after loose women?”
Megan frowned and straightened. “I don’t know why I told you that. I don’t want you talking about Seth.” His words echoed thoughts she had had in the past. More than once she had wondered why she loved Seth. Could it be merely habit? Or the fact that no other man in the settlement cared about her? “Get some rest,” she said sharply, and left the room.
Caleb didn’t close his eyes. She had a number of weaknesses. He was certain to be able to use one of them to escape. He had no intention of remaining here until she got around to trading him, even if such a thing were feasible. She was too quick at pointing a gun at him. What if she got word that Seth had died or escaped? She might shoot him just to be rid of him.
He looked around the room. It was small and the chinking between the logs seemed new. The floor was made of broad pine planks instead of dirt or split logs, so someone had gone to a great deal of effort to build it for her. What had she said? It was meant to be the house she and Seth would share. He wondered if Seth had built it himself. It was unusual for a new cabin to have more than one room. Rooms were usually added later as children arrived. In many cabins the children just slept in the loft until they were grown and had places of their own. For a cabin, this was quite grand.
It was also clean. After living in tents or on the open ground for the past four years, Caleb didn’t take cleanliness for granted. Once the war was over, he planned to bathe three times a day.
Megan’s clothing hung on pegs in one corner. There were three changes of dress, an everyday poke bonnet, a Sunday bonnet, a lightweight shawl. Beneath was a pair of polished black shoes with a pair of white cotton stockings rolled neatly in them.
Caleb turned his bead and studied the wall beside him. Unlike the outer walls, this one was of pine planking. A drawing of a raccoon beside a stream was nailed to it. The drawing was unusually good and he wondered who had done it.
A color caught his eye and he reached into the crack between the bed and wall and brought out a red book. Beneath it was a green one. Caleb was educated, as were his mother and sister, but he knew it wasn’t common to find mountain women who could read enough to enjoy a book. “Is this yours?” he called out.
“What now?” Megan came back to the doorway. When she saw the books in his hand, she froze.
“These books. Are you reading them?” He read the titles. “The Mysteries of Udolpho? You’re reading Mrs. Radcliffe? And this other one is on Greek mythology. Are they yours?”
“Give them to me.” She came to the bed and held out her hand. He noticed she was trembling.
Slowly he handed them over. “I’ve read both. Are you enjoying them?”
She glared at him. “There’s no need for you to tease me, Captain Morgan. I assure you I can read—probably as well as you can. And yes, I am enjoying them.”
“I wasn’t trying to make you angry.”
Megan turned on him, her books tucked protectively under her arm. “Why should I believe anything you say? I wasn’t born yesterday. I know men don’t like to know women can read. That’s why I hid them. How was I to know you’d come along and end up in my bed?” She