higher ground.
Douglas hoped his guess was right. With any luck-and God only knew she was due for some-Grant had gotten a roof on the new cabin. If it wasn't too far away, Douglas could take Isabel and her son there in a couple of days.
Time wasn't critical yet. Although there were patches of water all over the field behind the house and barn, and the ground was soggy under his feet, he figured he still had some time before they had to leave. There was also the chance that the rain would stop. The usual hot summer sun would quickly dry up the water then, which would give them some additional time.
He needed something to cheer him up, he decided, and so he went to the barn to take care of the horses. He was eager to get a look at the Arabians again. The stallion was as magnificent as his brother had told him he was.
The horse was big for an Arabian, with a beautiful gray coat. Douglas could feel the power in the stallion and the distrust. Isabel had been right, Pegasus didn't like strangers, but fortunately Douglas had always had a way with horses, and once the stallion was used to his scent and his voice, he let him check his injury.
His mate was smaller, somewhat delicate looking, and definitely full of herself. She tossed her head about like a vain woman, which made Douglas like her all the more.
The pair was meant to stay together. As soon as he moved the female into the stall next to the stallion, they nuzzled each other and let Douglas brush them. No wonder Isabel had wanted to keep them. Her husband never should have sold the stallion without first discussing it with her, no matter how desperate he was for money.
The animals' feed was running low. He gave his sorrel and the Arabians as much as they needed, then calculated he had less than a week's ration left.
The supplies inside the cabin were just as sparse. He had only just finished taking inventory when he heard the baby's whimpering. He decided to change him so that Isabel could stay in bed, but when he reached the bedroom door, it was closed.
He knocked twice before she answered him. In a stammer she asked him to please wait until she finished dressing.
'You may come in now.'
She was standing by the chest of drawers dressed in a blue robe buttoned to the top of her neck. Parker was nestled in her arms. Isabel was getting prettier by the minute. Douglas realized he was staring at her, glanced away, and noticed then the dress she'd laid out on top of her bed.
'You really should stay in bed.'
She finally looked up. The glow of motherhood was still in her eyes, and there was a faint blush on her cheeks. She wasn't looking at him though. Her gaze was directed on the wall to his left.
'Is something wrong?'
'No, nothing's wrong.' She sounded nervous. 'I want to get dressed and fix your breakfast.'
He shook his head. 'For God's sake, you just had a baby. I'll fix your breakfast. You sit down in the rocker while I change the bedding.'
His voice told her not to argue. She sat more quickly than she should have, and let out a loud moan. 'I think I'd better stand up.'
He helped her to her feet. She still wouldn't look at him.
'Why are you acting so shy with me?'
Her blush intensified. He shouldn't have been so blunt, he supposed.
'After… you know.'
'No, I don't know. That's why I asked.'
'It's… awkward. I was thinking about how I met you and you had to… it was necessary for you to… when the baby was coming…'
He started to laugh. He simply couldn't help it. She didn't appreciate his amusement.
'I was real busy at the time. All I remember is the baby. I was worried I'd drop him.'
'Honest?'
'Yes, honest. If it hurts too much to sit down, lean on the dresser until I get your bed ready. The last thing we need now is for you to fall. You've got to be weak.'
'Parker's fretful,' she stammered out, trying to change the subject.
Douglas leaned closer to her side and peered down at the sleeping infant. Fretful was the last word he would have used to describe the baby.
'He looks real peaceful to me.'
They looked at one another and shared a smile. Douglas was the first to turn away, but not before he noticed how pretty her eyes were. They were more gold than brown, and, damn, those freckles of hers were going to keep on distracting him if he continued to stand so close to her.
She had delicate hands too. He had noticed them during her contractions when she tried to choke him because he wouldn't knock her unconscious.
He made quick work of changing the bedding while she listed all the qualities she was sure her son possessed. She started out telling him Parker had already proven how smart he was, and by the time she finished listing his attributes, she had elevated him to genius.
Douglas couldn't figure out how she'd arrived at her conclusions. The baby wasn't a full day old, and all she could possibly know about him was that he slept and he wet.
She was sagging against the chest when Douglas took Parker away from her.
'I could go in the kitchen with you and help you fix breakfast.'
'You don't need to,' he said. 'Is Parker getting enough to eat?'
'He will… soon.'
'Please, try to get past your embarrassment. I need to know if he's doing all right.'
'Yes, he's doing just fine. The doctor spent a long while telling me what to expect. I should be able to feed him by tonight.'
He nodded. 'If you start bleeding, you'll tell me, won't you?'
' Douglas…'
'I'm thinking about Parker,' he explained. 'Maybe I should go and get the doctor so he can check you. I could sneak him past Boyle's men during the night.'
'That isn't necessary. I promised I'd tell you if anything happens.'
After he put the baby back in his bed, he helped Isabel out of her robe. Her hands trembled as she tried to get the buttons undone, protesting all the while that she could undress herself. He took over the task anyway.
'I'm not at all tired. I've slept a long time.'
She kept on protesting, even after he'd tucked her between the sheets. At her insistence, he checked on her son once more before he left the room, and by the time he pulled the door closed, Isabel was sound asleep.
She ate breakfast early that evening. He fed her burnt toast and lumpy oatmeal sweetened with sugar. He thought it looked pretty good.
She thought it looked awful. Because he'd gone to such trouble to prepare the meal, she ate as much as she could without gagging and thanked him profusely.
After he'd removed the tray, he sat down on the side of the bed to discuss the situation. 'We need to talk.'
She dropped the napkin onto her lap. 'You're leaving.'
'Isabel…'
'I understand.'
Her face had turned stark white. He shook his head. 'No, I'm not leaving. I'm going to have to do something about your lack of supplies.'
'You are?'
'Yes.'
'I could use more flour and sugar. I'm almost out.'
'I'm going into town.'
'They won't let you come back.'
He put his hand on top of hers. 'Listen to me. It isn't good for you to get upset. I don't plan to stroll into the
