“You say your cousin is single, Reverend?” Deut Buchanan asked, with his mouth still full of mashed potatoes. “Fine looking woman to be left on the vine.” Except for his mother, Deut was the oldest and therefore given free range to state any opinions.

Daniel frowned. “Yes, she's single.” All the men within hearing distance of Daniel's comment were staring in Karlee's direction. The entire clan seemed to be on a population frenzy, birthing and marrying as fast as they could. “She came to Jefferson to help me with the twins,” Daniel added. “Not to marry any of you Buchanan boys.”

Deut laughed, spitting a snow of potatoes. “Don't get riled up, Reverend. We only took Willow away from you 'cause Sammy loved her so. We know you have to have a woman to help out at your place. If I'd had a few daughters and not so many boys, I might could have saved you the trouble of sending for a woman.”

“But Pa, she's got red hair and the greenest eyes I've ever seen.” Ray sighed deeply, “and her hair. Did you ever see a woman with so much red hair?”

“Now you forget about courting her, Ray. The preacher's got no woman. He needs her more than you do. Besides, you got another year before you're twenty and at the hurry-up stage for marrying.”

Daniel was thankful for all the people talking around him. He couldn't have said a word if his life depended on it. He wished he could scream that he had had a woman and wanted no other now, or ever. His grief had settled into anger over the years. Anger at the world and at himself for caring so deeply.

But Deut was right, Daniel needed Karlee. With all her imperfections and strangeness, he needed her. He couldn't raise his daughters alone. If he tried, he guessed Gerilyn would be knocking at his door demanding custody of the girls. She'd married a man with enough money and power to put up a fight if it came to that. They were just waiting for him to make a wrong move.

He stood so suddenly half the room turned his direction as though expecting a speech. But when he said nothing, they returned to their conversations and food.

Daniel walked the length of the long dining room and entered the kitchen. Like everything else in the Buchanan homestead, the room had been built for a large family. Karlee was cleaning the table where everyone under twelve ate while several women hurried the children, including the twins, outside to play.

Daniel stood in the doorway for a minute, unaware of anyone in the room except Karlee. She might not be a cook, but she knew her way around cleaning. He couldn't help but wonder if she, like himself, pushed herself to work harder than anyone else so she would be exhausted enough at night to sleep.

When she finally glanced up, he asked, “We need to talk, Miss Whitworth. Want to see the bayou?”

“Now?”

“Now.” He walked outside, hoping she'd follow. There were plenty of women to finish and watch the twins. The Buchanans treated child rearing with the herd philosophy. Except for sleeping, the children all stayed together and the adults took turns sitting on the nest. They traveled in a pack, with older ones taking care of younger. His twins loved the attention.

Daniel marched past two huge live oaks and headed toward the bayou where old cypress trees tiptoed into the water's edge. He didn't bother to turn around. If she followed, she followed. He'd not beg for her attention.

When he reached shade so thick it seemed like twilight, he stared out across the bayou, listening for the sounds of passing boats. The air hung damp and warm for late February, but the wind off the water was cool. He could almost close his eyes and think he was back home in Indiana. As a boy, he'd loved rowing out to the center of the lake near their farm. When the day got hot, he'd lay down in the boat and let the sun warm him as he listened to water lap against the sides.

“I'm sorry.” Karlee broke into his thoughts. “I didn't mean to fall asleep in church. I know you're probably mad at me, but not speaking to me won't solve any problem.”

Daniel turned around to face her and was surprised to find her so close behind him. She still wore the tea towel she'd tucked into her waistband as an apron. “I'm not mad at you.” He tried to think of how to put words together as he backed away from her a few steps. “I can't blame you. I'm not much of a preacher.”

“Oh, no.” She lied. “You're fine, just fine. I didn't sleep last night. I was trying to think of some way to say thank you for letting me stay. I want you to know I'll try real hard to help out. I'll learn to cook and I'll take good care of the twins and I'll…” She paused, trying to remember a well-rehearsed speech.

“It's all right,” he interrupted. “I said you could stay. Fact is, I need you desperately.” Daniel watched her closely, sensing more than she was saying. “Is going back really so bad?”

He thought he saw a tear in the corner of her eye before she blinked it away.

She straightened slightly and looked directly at him. “Yes,” she said simply.

Daniel could see the truth in her eyes. A woman without money or family… where would she go? From the way she worked for her meal, he guessed she'd been working hard all her life, trying to pay back what she'd probably been told she had no right to.

He forced out what had to be said. “Promise me you won't leave, no matter what happens, no matter what you see, or hear, or think you hear.”

Surprise lifted her eyebrows. “All right.”

“If you left I could lose the twins, and I couldn't live with that. No matter what happens, the twins must stay.”

“I think I understand. They're very lucky little girls to be loved so much.”

“They're all I have.” His stance relaxed and he smiled. “So promise you won't marry one of the Buchanans. At least not for a year.”

She tilted her head slightly in an action that reminded him of his daughters. “I think I can promise that with some ease. Granny's smart as a whip, but the intelligence seems to be watering down through the generations.”

She'd expected him to laugh and agree, but Daniel only stared out at the water. “I'll stay,” she added wondering if he was even listening.

“Good.” He let out a long breath. “I need you on my side, Karlee, no matter what.”

He saw it in her eyes, a question, a doubt, a decision to trust. “I'll be there.”

“Preacher!” Deut shouted from the house before Daniel-could say more. “We got a rider who barely made it here. He's bleeding like a stuck pig and yelling your name.”

Daniel glanced at Karlee. “It's started,” he whispered. “Don't forget your promise. No matter what.”

SIX

“KARLEE, GET THE TWINS!” DANIEL SHOUTED AS HE carried a wounded man toward their wagon. “We need to get out of here before the Buchanans share our trouble.”

Questions jumped wildly across Karlee's mind, but the stranger-covered in blood and dust-left no time to talk. He couldn't have been more than a skeleton beneath his ragged Confederate jacket. His hair and beard were long and unkempt. When exhausted blue eyes met Karlee's gaze, she realized he wasn't as old as she. And he was frightened, terrified.

“Get the twins!” Daniel snapped. “We've no time.”

As she hurried the girls toward the wagon, Karlee heard Deut Buchanan whisper to Daniel. “This is Cullen Baker's doing, I'd bet on it. Most of the trouble blamed on this boy weren't his fault. I'll take care of the animal. You get Jesse dead and buried deep as soon as you can, Reverend.”

Karlee stared at the pale face of the wounded man. Blood dripped from his chest, soaking into Daniel's black coat. He's not dead yet, she wanted to shout at Deut, but to her surprise, the man nodded a “thank you” to the oldest Buchanan male.

Granny stood on the porch shaking her head as if she'd been predicting a storm and she could hear the thunder. “I ain't known nothing but trouble in this state since I come here twenty years ago. We got too many younguns around for there to be gunplay on my land.” She gestured with her head toward her sons. “Saddle up, and make sure the preacher gets home safely.”

Four Buchanan boys were on horseback before Daniel got the wounded man hidden in the back of his wagon. He tucked the twins just behind the seat and climbed up beside Karlee.

“What's happening?” She gripped the frame as he slapped the horses into action. The power in his movements frightened her. He was a big man, and strong, but until now she'd never thought of him as a warrior. Somehow, in a heartbeat's time, this quiet man of the cloth had donned invisible armor. She feared for anything or anyone who got in his way.

“We'll talk about it later,” he mumbled, taking no polite care to allow the few inches between them as he had earlier.

His leg brushed hers as he braced his weight. Karlee tried not to notice. They had a wagon loaded with trouble; the space between them was of no importance. But each time his arm or leg moved against hers, she stiffened then reminded herself she was acting like a foolish old spinster.