isn't."
She knew he was right. It was just . . . did everything have to be so hard? She met his eyes again.
Still on his knees, he turned even more serious. "Vanessa, we've been alone on the trail for days now. You're a beautiful woman." He swallowed hard. "Desirable. Men will assume that I didn't leave you alone. They'll expect you to have been . . . used. Decent women won't associate with you. Honorable men won't treat you with respect."
Each word felt like a slap. Furthermore, Vanessa knew he was right. But still . . . she didn't care. "It doesn't matter."
"It does. Reputation always matters. I should have looked ahead. I should have thought about that, but all I thought about was getting you away." A shadow formed behind his eyes. "I should have thought about the consequences."
How could he? During the last three days, Clayton had seen to everything else—the horses, the trail, setting up camp. He'd even gone hunting and cooked a rabbit the night before.
His expression shuttered. "I know marriage to someone like me—a glorified ranch hand—isn't what you intended, but you don't need to worry. I'd never force myself on you. We could keep our relationship the same as it always was."
Her breath hitched. "Clay, what are you saying?"
He swallowed hard and finally looked away. "I'd keep myself—my needs—from you."
"I . . . are you sure?"
Curving one strong hand around her own, he linked his fingers through hers. "I'm very sure."
Just as she was about to rebut him again, she caught a peek of them in the mirror, Clayton kneeling, her hands in his. The sight was one she'd remember always; but their words were so far from the picture of them, with Clayton at her feet, she shook her head in wonder.
Who would have thought so much would change between them? Her heart loved him—yet a strange, scary voice in her head feared marriage. Clayton, too, looked torn between old wants and new responsibilities.
She dared to smile. "I guess neither of us knows what we want. Leastways, not anymore."
"I do. I want to care for you, Vanessa. I want to protect you with everything I am."
She wondered if there would come a time when that wouldn't be enough. For now she knew he was right. She couldn't go back and change her circumstances. She couldn't pretend that Price hadn't been in her room.
She couldn't deny the things he'd done. She never forget that he'd struck her—and that she'd be wearing those scars for a lifetime.
What they had was the present. That had to be enough."All right. I will marry you . . . as long as we agree to rethink things when we get to your sister's."
"I won't need to do that, Van. My word is forever. You know that."
Forever was a long time. "But I might. I'll need a month, Clayton. A month to forget. And a month to pray, too."
He blinked. "All right, then."
Marriage. For a month. "After that time, if you still want me—"
"I always will. I promise you that, Van."
"Thank you."
"We'll say our vows within the hour." Clayton pulled away all too quickly and leapt to his feet. "I'll send Mary in. She said she'd bring a tub into the kitchen. I'll go change in the barn."
As Vanessa watched him walk away, she knew one thing for certain. Clayton Proffitt was the best man she knew.
She hoped she'd survive the moment when he realized that she wasn't the best woman for him.
"Kind of chilly to be bathing with the horses."
Clayton figured the cold water would do him no harm, especially since he couldn't take his mind off the image of Vanessa soaking in warm water just feet away. "I'm fine."
Ken chuckled. "It's a strange position I'm finding myself in.Never thought I'd be one to ever give you advice, Captain."
Clayton knew it was pointless to remind Ken once again that he was no longer his captain. Old habits died hard from the war; they were intertwined in a way that prohibited a man from breaking those boundaries. If he did, it was like he was breaking so much of who he was. "You've done a fine job so
She knew he was right. It was just . . . did everything have to be so hard? She met his eyes again.
Still on his knees, he turned even more serious. "Vanessa, we've been alone on the trail for days now. You're a beautiful woman." He swallowed hard. "Desirable. Men will assume that I didn't leave you alone. They'll expect you to have been . . . used. Decent women won't associate with you. Honorable men won't treat you with respect."
Each word felt like a slap. Furthermore, Vanessa knew he was right. But still . . . she didn't care. "It doesn't matter."
"It does. Reputation always matters. I should have looked ahead. I should have thought about that, but all I thought about was getting you away." A shadow formed behind his eyes. "I should have thought about the consequences."
How could he? During the last three days, Clayton had seen to everything else—the horses, the trail, setting up camp. He'd even gone hunting and cooked a rabbit the night before.
His expression shuttered. "I know marriage to someone like me—a glorified ranch hand—isn't what you intended, but you don't need to worry. I'd never force myself on you. We could keep our relationship the same as it always was."
Her breath hitched. "Clay, what are you saying?"
He swallowed hard and finally looked away. "I'd keep myself—my needs—from you."
"I . . . are you sure?"
Curving one strong hand around her own, he linked his fingers through hers. "I'm very sure."
Just as she was about to rebut him again, she caught a peek of them in the mirror, Clayton kneeling, her hands in his. The sight was one she'd remember always; but their words were so far from the picture of them, with Clayton at her feet, she shook her head in wonder.
Who would have thought so much would change between them? Her heart loved him—yet a strange, scary voice in her head feared marriage. Clayton, too, looked torn between old wants and new responsibilities.
She dared to smile. "I guess neither of us knows what we want. Leastways, not anymore."
"I do. I want to care for you, Vanessa. I want to protect you with everything I am."
She wondered if there would come a time when that wouldn't be enough. For now she knew he was right. She couldn't go back and change her circumstances. She couldn't pretend that Price hadn't been in her room.
She couldn't deny the things he'd done. She never forget that he'd struck her—and that she'd be wearing those scars for a lifetime.
What they had was the present. That had to be enough."All right. I will marry you . . . as long as we agree to rethink things when we get to your sister's."
"I won't need to do that, Van. My word is forever. You know that."
Forever was a long time. "But I might. I'll need a month, Clayton. A month to forget. And a month to pray, too."
He blinked. "All right, then."
Marriage. For a month. "After that time, if you still want me—"
"I always will. I promise you that, Van."
"Thank you."
"We'll say our vows within the hour." Clayton pulled away all too quickly and leapt to his feet. "I'll send Mary in. She said she'd bring a tub into the kitchen. I'll go change in the barn."
As Vanessa watched him walk away, she knew one thing for certain. Clayton Proffitt was the best man she knew.
She hoped she'd survive the moment when he realized that she wasn't the best woman for him.
"Kind of chilly to be bathing with the horses."
Clayton figured the cold water would do him no harm, especially since he couldn't take his mind off the image of Vanessa soaking in warm water just feet away. "I'm fine."
Ken chuckled. "It's a strange position I'm finding myself in.Never thought I'd be one to ever give you advice, Captain."
Clayton knew it was pointless to remind Ken once again that he was no longer his captain. Old habits died hard from the war; they were intertwined in a way that prohibited a man from breaking those boundaries. If he did, it was like he was breaking so much of who he was. "You've done a fine job so
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