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touched his hand. “It’s fine. The room is lovely. Dorothy had good taste. After all, she married you.”
    John cleared his throat. “Yes, she did didn’t she?”
    She looked everything over and then came back to the bed. Amazing how a double bed can look so small. She swallowed hard. John was going to want a wedding night. How was she going to explain that she didn’t really know what she was supposed to do? She’d only made love once before and that brought about MaryAnn.
    “It’s a lovely room.”
    “Like I said, you can change whatever you like. It’s your room now, too.”
    “Thank you.”
    “The chair by the window is for reading. Do you like to read?”
    Sarah tore her gaze away from the bed. “I’m sorry, what?”
    “I was asking if you liked to read. Dorothy did, so I put the chair there by the window. She didn’t get to make much use of it. There’s a lot of work to running a successful ranching operation. Not much time left for anything else.”
    “I’m sure there is. I…um…yes, I do like to read.”
    “Are you nervous, Sarah?”
    She heard laughter in his voice and glanced up at him. Too late she saw his eyes smoldering.
    “I…I am a little nervous.” She turned away from him, walked to the closet and opened the door. Maybe she could just walk in close the door and disappear.
    “You don’t need to be.”
    She looked back at him. His hands were behind his back. She could see his erection straining at his pants. “I don’t?”
    He shook his head. “How long has it been since you made love?”
    “Since before MaryAnn was born. Her father died at Bull Run. She never knew her father. He and I were….”
    He walked over to her and placed two fingers gently against her lips. “You’re rambling.” He replaced his fingers with his lips. Soft, firm lips. He didn’t touch her except with his lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him closer. His tongue pressed against the seam of her lips and she opened for him. Warm, he tasted clean and he smelled so good and she couldn’t get close enough. Finally he brought his arms around her and gathered her close. She’d missed this. Kissing. A man’s touch. A….
    “Hee hee,” came MaryAnn’s little giggle.
    She and John broke apart, looked over to the door and saw both little girls laughing.
    Sarah knew she flushed and it was confirmed when MaryAnn said, “Did Mr. Atwood make you hot again, Mama? You’re all red.”
    She wanted the floor to just swallow her up. When she looked at John, he had a big grin on his face.
    “I make you hot, do I?”
    “Oh, just hush.” She went to the door and shoo’d the girls out of the room. “Let’s go see if there are any cookies. Or better yet let’s go make some.” A low chuckle followed her out of the room. She didn’t look back.
    * * *
    “Bertha, do we have the makings for sugar cookies?”
    She and the girls walked into the kitchen. Bertha had just finished plucking the chicken and was working on the pin feathers with a small pair of pliers.
    “I’m sure there is. I don’t bake much. Even worse at it than I am at cooking. Look at you. The boss got a good one with you. A looker who can cook and bake, too.”
    “Stop. You’ll make me blush.”
    “Too late,” came a deep, baritone from behind her. He put his hand on her waist and gave her a small hug. Now she knew she was blushing. She had to get over this or she’d be forever red.  
    She swatted at him. “Now stop that.”
    The girls and Bertha laughed.
    “I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll go get your trunks while you do some cooking.”
    “We’re making cookies,” she called to his retreating form.
    “Mama, do you like Mr. Atwood?”
    Sarah looked down at the little girls. Both were looking up at her with such serious faces.
    “Yes, I do like Mr. Atwood.” She watched both of them visibly relax. “Why?”
    “Well, me and Katy, we like each other and if you didn’t like Mr. Atwood we might not