"Aye." Father didn't seem to know of the problems between him and Tessa, and he was grateful. He headed toward the stairs, but that troubled feeling wrapped tight around his guts worsened.

He'd been out in the field since dinner and had been visible from the house. If she had been here, why hadn't she come out to see him? Why hadn't Thomas come to fetch him and let him know she was here, able to finally talk?

The chamber felt strangely empty. It felt as if all the light had gone from the room. He couldn't explain the feeling. Troubled, he pulled off his muddy shirt and shucked off his breeches. Something definitely didn't feel right

He tugged open a drawer and saw the empty place where Tessa's brush and comb had been. He turned and saw the old trunk gone from the place against the wall. An icy chill shivered down his spine.

Pain as cold as an iceberg rammed through his chest. Jonah staggered. It couldn't be. Tessa could not have left. This was her home. She was his wife. There had to be some other explanation.

But none other came to him. Not a single one.

A horrible renting emptiness tore him apart, worse than any Indian's sharpened arrowhead. It surely could not be his heart hurting, for he had no heart. No heart vulnerable to love, that is.

He grabbed clean clothes from the drawers, dressing as he charged down the hall.


"Tessa!" A furious pounding rattled Grandfather's back door, nearly shaking it off the leather hinges. "Tessa, open up, damn it!"

"Jonah!" She pulled the latch and swung open the door just before his upraised fist slammed into it again. "Stop cursing and lower your voice. There are sick people in this house."

"Where is your trunk?" He pushed past her, tense male might and sizzling rage.

Tessa took one look at the power bunched in his arms, tensed in his shoulders, and her heart stopped. "In my attic room. Where it belongs."

"Belongs? Nay, your place is with me. I mean it. To run out like this, 'tisn't right. We haven't even tried to speak of this."

"What do we have to discuss? You wanted a nursemaid for your father and you found one. He's recovering now. What need do you have of me?"

A light flickered in his eyes, a dark and dangerous light. "I thought you were very clear on the different ways I need you."

"Aye, you need a woman. There are more than a dozen in this town hungering for a man like you. 'Tis best that you leave, Jonah. I no longer want to be your convenient wife."

"You are the least convenient person I know."

"Good, then you're finally rid of your difficult wife." She splayed both hands on his chest and shoved hard. "You should be glad."

"I'm not glad." He didn't budge.

She shoved again, but he was an unmovable pillar of steely muscle and furious determination. How did she think she could move him? "I never want to see you again, so get out of this house."

"Never." His fingers curled around her wrists, holding her hard, just short of bruising. "Not without you."

"What are you going to do? Use force? Haul me over your shoulder?"

A spark lit his eyes as if she'd given him an idea. "All I want is for you to listen to me. I can make you understand-"

"Make me? What would you have me do? Live the rest of my life looking over the breakfast table at a man who will never love me in return? Spend the rest of my nights making love to a man who is only taking his pleasure with me? Spend my days being useful instead of feeling loved in return?"

"Tessa, I truly care for you." Tension dug lines around his eyes, around eyes so dark she could never know what truly lived in his heart. "Haven't you felt that in my touch? Heard it in my voice?"

"Nay, I have not seen one true act of love. Not one. But plenty of caring and kindness and treating the unwanted wife well. I have my pride, Jonah. I am worth being loved. Truly loved. I already know you're not capable of it."

Bitterness rushed across her tongue and she tore away from him, hating that part of her that had always held such foolish dreams. "I'm going to fetch Grandfather. He'll see that you leave."

"Go ahead. Ely will listen to me."

"Nay, he has been unable to keep any hired help, so at least I am useful here. And I know what I'm getting in return."

She turned her back and walked fast and hard away from him, now that her angry words had attracted her grandfather's attention. He would not let Jonah into the house, she was sure of it. She hid in the parlor, took a deep breath, and tried to will the terrible roiling pain out of her heart.

She'd never been special to him. Not she, Tessa Bradford. She would never be the woman he dreamed of at night or in the quiet moments of the day.

He still wanted a convenient, practical marriage. But she did not. She never did. She never would.

She peeked around the corner and he was still there, standing in the rain at the open door. Wind lashed his black hair across his strong chiseled face. Rain soaked his shirt and the white fabric clung to him like a second skin, showing the breadth of his powerful shoulders and every fascinating muscle in his chest and abdomen.

Their gazes locked and he just stared at her. He looked so lost. Her throat tightened, and she knelt to feed the fire in the parlor's hearth, where Violet, her sister, and Charity all lay, consumed with fever.

She turned her back on Jonah and vowed not to cry another tear.

From this day on, she would not want, would not wish. She would not dream foolish dreams again.

Chapter Fifteen

"You cannot go marching up to her grandfather's house and steal her back." Thomas' fist collided with the table, sending cups and spoons clattering. "She is a woman with feelings, not a stolen piece of furniture."

"I do not intend to steal her. I have thought this over for two days. For two days she does not speak to me. Her grandfather comes at me with a musket. I only intend to take back my wife."

"Mayhap you shouldn't have hurt her so deeply in the first place."

"Aye, I admit it. I was wrong. I was wrong to think-" He steeled his heart, refusing to feel any more of the well-deep pain. But it did not work. "I cannot both hold her and drive the horses. I need help."

"I don't think that is a rational solution."

Considering the sharp and fiery pain raging through his chest, dragging her home seemed like a rational plan. As rational as he could possibly be.

"Ah, true love," Father chuckled from his place at the table, sipping real tea for once. "A fiery thing, that wife of yours. My advice is to surrender. 'Tis the best way to deal with an angry woman. I'd have thought you were smart enough to figure that out, boy. Then again, I never married such a strong-willed woman."

"Tessa will see reason. I know she will. She's my wife and she belongs here with me." In truth, he did not think he could keep going without her. She'd left an emptiness in his life and a worse one in his heart. He did not think he needed to admit such a vulnerability, not even to his family.

"You have much to learn about a woman, boy. Why-"

"Stop it, both of you," Thomas roared. "I can't believe I am hearing this. Tessa is a person with feelings. Her pain should not be trivialized with insincerity, Father. As for you, Jonah, she truly loved you. What do you think will convince her to risk her heart a second time?"

His love. 'Twould have to be enough.

A knock rattled the back door before Jonah could admit the truth aloud. Andy, coughing and pale, was closest to the door and hopped up to open it.

"Major?" The reverend stood in the threshold with the cheery morning sun slanting over him, forcing him to squint. "I apologize for interrupting your morning meal, but Anya sent me."

"Anya?" Jonah pushed out his chair and stood. "Is there a problem? She went to the Bradfords to help Tessa tend her family."

"You have not heard? The Bradford children are all recovering. 'Tis Tessa who is ill."

"Ill?" He crossed the room in two strides. "It cannot be. I saw her just two, nay, three days ago."

The reverend's face saddened, and Jonah heard the knell of grief. " Tis true, Jonah. I know you and your wife have had some kind of a disagreement, but now is not the time for conflict. She is gravely ill, mayhap dying. She didn't want you to come, but she has lost consciousness and Anya and I thought it best that you see her."

A cold shock struck him like a blow, left him reeling but unable to feel.

"We'll go together." Thomas' hand settled upon Jonah's shoulder. "Reverend Brown, is there much hope?"

"Nay." Sorrowful. "Tessa is the healer, and now that she is sick, there's no one but Anya to tend her. She cares, but she is not skilled."

"Then we'll call a surgeon. It helped Father." Jonah's mind whirled. He could send Thomas, who would be swiftest, and mayhap-

"There is no time. 'Tis why I'm here. I thought you might want to say goodbye to your wife."

Jonah saw the unavoidable truth in the reverend's eyes, and the compassion. For once, he could not hide, could not seal off his heart, could not freeze out the emotions battering his chest like a horned bull.

His heart cracked wide open. Tears stung his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.


"How long has she been like this?" Jonah demanded as Ely opened the door.

"Two days." The rotund man blocked the threshold. "She left strict instructions. You are not welcome here."

"Move aside, Bradford," Jonah growled, "or I'll tear you limb from limb with my bare hands."

The fleshy man stepped aside.

Jonah caught a dim impression of a filthy kitchen, dishes stacked in piles on the messy board table, the room abandoned. Maybe the others in this house had left for Charity's mother's home, to recover now that Tessa could not tend them. That knowledge sparked another wave of rage. He burst into the parlor and saw the pallet on the floor by the hearth.