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as well.
    "Don't be embarrassed," he said with an easy smile. "We physicians are trained to remain unmoved by the sight of the nude female body."
    "Ye weren't so unmoved by such a sight earlier this night," she said tartly, then instantly regretted it. Why did she want to go and remind him of that for?
    Ty made a funny sound that wasn't quite a laugh, but she couldn't see his face for his head was bent and he was looking at her chest. He ran his hands over her flesh and bones, and she thought she had never been touched so gently. The brush of his palms and fingers across her skin seemed to soothe her pain. Goose bumps rose on her legs and arms, and a funny feeling danced down her spine. She actually had to clench her back teeth to keep from shivering. Then his forearm brushed her breasts and her whole body shuddered.
    "Are you cold?"
    "Aye." She gasped. The skin around her nipples had tightened, drawing them into two hard points. She prayed he wouldn't notice.
    Ye wooden-headed fool! How can he help but notice, the way they're practically a-pokin' him in the face?
    Ty touched an old bruise, yellow now and almost faded, just above her hipbone. He straightened and looked down at her, his brows drawn together in a frown. "Today obviously wasn't the first time he's used his fists on you."
    Shame filled Delia, so bitter she thought she could taste it. She was ashamed to expose her weakness to a stranger. Oh, especially to him. She was ashamed of her da's drunkenness, but she was as much ashamed of herself. She was sure it was all her fault, that if she had managed to keep their home properly the way her ma had before she'd died, then her da would never have been driven to drown his misery in drink.
    She couldn't meet Ty's eyes, so she spoke instead to the silver buttons on his waistcoat. "'Twas all my fault. I got his dander up with my sass."
    "Jesus Christ," Ty muttered under his breath.
    She glanced up in time to catch the look of anger on his face and thought it was directed at herself, and the shame blossomed until tears filled her eyes. She turned her head aside before he could see them.
    "Your ribs aren't broken," he said, his voice gruff. "But they're certainly badly bruised and they may well be cracked. To be safe, I'm going into the bedroom to get something to bind them up with. You won't run off?"
    She sniffed and surreptitiously wiped at the tears. "Like this? Not bloody likely!"
    Ty was gone for only a moment and he returned carrying a long piece of linen. He wrapped it around her ribs, pulling so tightly that Delia wondered how she was going to manage to breathe when he was done. And still, still his touch was so incredibly gentle. Tears, hot and warm, filled her eyes and a sweet ache pulled at her chest. Then his hand accidentally brushed her sensitive breasts and the sweet ache turned into a quivering hunger that was more than a hollow feeling in her belly. It was a yawning pain in the region of her heart.
    She looked down at his bent head, at the dark, thick waves of his hair touched with gold by the torchlight, and she knew that what she was thinking was wrong, could never, never be; that she was a fool to wish it and a fool even to think of doing what she was going to do; and that she would do it anyway...
    She had known this man for only a few minutes. He was a stranger in every way except one—she had felt the healing touch of his hands. And she knew, somehow she knew, that he alone in all the world could heal her soul.
    She knew. And it was enough for her to want to be where he was, live where he lived. She wanted to wake up in the morning and know there was a chance, even if only a small one, that she would see his face sometime that day.
    She swallowed and drew in a deep breath. "Dr. Savitch?"
    "Um?"
    "Can I change my mind again?"
    "I've been told that's a woman's prerogative."
    "Then ye'll take me to the Merrymeeting Settlement, to be wife t' yer friend?"
    "If you wish. It's either you or no one because,