The Midwife by Carolyn Davidson

Author:Carolyn Davidson [Carolyn Davidson]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781459250901
Publisher: Harlequin Treasury

Chapter Ten

Gar watched as creamy gravy was ladled over biscuits, wondering if Leah was aware that her hand trembled. She brought the plate to him, standing beside him as it thumped from her grasp to the tabletop.

“It slipped,” she said faintly, turning aside. But not quickly enough to escape the hand that enclosed her wrist with a firm grip.

“Leah? Will you look at me?” he asked. It hurt that even now she could not meet his gaze. That she had looked upon him with wide, startled eyes upon awakening and then buried her head beneath the sheet to escape his touch.

Or so it had seemed at the time. Now that he thought about it, she had behaved exactly as a blushing bride would on the morning after her wedding. And he had been too big a dunderhead to see it. And so he had left her there, instead of searching her out beneath the covers and claiming her lips as he’d been tempted to do.

He’d carried her to the house last night and up the stairs, feeling like a man on his wedding night, whispering those words as they crossed the threshold. He had explored her body with curious hands, his memories of those hurried minutes in the barn too incomplete to suit him.

She had allowed it, had drawn in her breath several times and moved beneath his palm. But she was too new to this game of loving, and he would not give her pain while the hurt was fresh inside her body.

At dawn he’d left her in the big bedroom he’d built for his bride, left her with the sheet covering her sunstreaked hair and forming itself to her curves. And then he’d thought of nothing else but that luscious form as he milked his cows and let them out into the pasture for the day.

She sat down across the table, her words directed at Kristofer and the baby, and Gar reached to touch her hand.

“Leah.” Her name was soft, he decided, listening to the sound he breathed.

Her gaze touched their hands, his atop hers, his fingers darkly tanned, thick and long, hers slender and golden beneath. And then she looked up at him. Like those of a startled fawn, her eyes found his, then darted away.

“Are you well?” he asked, and watched as a blush climbed to ride the ridge of her cheekbones.

“Yes, of course.” She leaned to Karen. “Open wide, sweetkins. The oatmeal is good this morning.”

“Oatmeal?” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded hopeful.

“I made it for the baby, with a little for Kristofer. She can’t eat sausage and gravy yet. It is too spicy for her and Kristofer isn’t overly fond of it.”

“If there’s any oatmeal left over, I could eat a little,” Gar said, digging into his plateful of food.

“You can have mine, Pa,” Kristofer offered.

“I thought you liked oatmeal, Kris,” Leah said, frowning as the boy shoved his bowl across the table.

“I do,” he said, sliding from his chair. “But Lars

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