She raised a brow. Oh, how she loved moments like these. “And it is?”
Her wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the tip of her nose. “I think I’d be better off to marry me a sweet young woman.”
She laughed lightly. “Just to have someone clean for you? I think I remember Doc offering me a deal like that once, but I turned him down.”
“I’m glad you did. Now I have you all to myself.” He lifted his hat and sent it soaring across the room. His lips brushed across her cheek and slipped just above her lips.
“And this would be one of the sweet young woman’s duties?” she whispered.
“Hmm. Lots of these. Several times a day.” His lips descended upon hers, warm and tender.
“How would you get any work done?”
“We’d live on love.”
She should have stepped away and not let him see how his nearness caused her to forget what was right and proper. Instead, she slipped her hands to his face and wove her fingers into his hair.
How many days had she waited for this intimacy? Yet she feared the depth of her love for Morgan. As his kiss deepened and she gave into the feelings swirling through her mind and body, all the doubts and mistrust faded.
Morgan’s arms tightened around her. Suddenly a swarm of memories blackened the moment. She remembered Jenkins grabbing her and bruising her lips with his vile mouth—the same mouth that had ordered good people killed.
Casey struggled to press her hands into Morgan’s chest. She trembled. Her gaze flew to his face, and her heart begged for understanding. She loved this man, but she was afraid of what passion might do to him.
His face flushed, and he released her. “What’s wrong?”
The words refused to form. “I’m afraid.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Jenkins.” He spat the word like rotten food.
“Yes.” She picked up his hat and handed it to him.
“What else?”
I can’t tell him I’m afraid of him—that his good temperament might not be true. He’ll think I’m throwing him in the same lot with Jenkins. “Isn’t that enough?”
“I love you,” he said. “I will not let Jenkins or anyone hurt you.”
She stole a glimpse of his face, a mixture of sadness and tenderness. She despised herself, for she knew real love did not embrace fear and distrust.
Chapter 24
After the Rainers’ family traveled back to Oregon, Sarah steadily declined and grew totally dependent upon Casey and the reverend. Casey applied salve to the bedsores and did her best to keep the woman comfortable. She brewed herbal teas and tried every medicinal herb she’d ever learned from Franco, but nothing eased Sarah’s discomfort.
No one spoke of it, but they all sensed the disease had progressed far beyond any cure.
On a damp and dreary November day, the doctor arrived. A small, wiry man with a red-gray beard, he spoke in terms that Casey and the reverend understood. His past successes with patients who had diseases similar to Sarah’s had earned him a reputation of distinction.
The doctor spent nearly two hours with Sarah while the reverend paced the parlor and Casey sat stiffly on the sofa watching him move from one emotion to another. His shoulders appeared to droop farther with each crossing of the room. Never had he looked more vulnerable.
A silver teapot, Sarah’s best gold-rimmed china, and an intricately carved silver tray filled with lemon cakes sat on a small oaken table. Neither Casey nor the reverend felt the pangs of hunger or thirst. It was merely a form of hospitality extended to the physician.
When at last the doctor joined them in the parlor, the lines on his face clearly indicated the diagnosis. “Let’s sit down and discuss your wife’s condition.”
“Would you like for me to leave?” Casey rose to her feet.
The reverend motioned for her to stay. “No, I’d like for you to hear this, too.” He turned his attention to the doctor. “I’ve known for a long time my Sarah was dying. I just need for you to confirm it. From the look on your face, I see there is nothing you can do.”
The doctor cleared his throat. “As a man of God, you already know the Lord doesn’t always answer our prayers the way we’d like.”
“I want her free of pain. If she can’t be healed, then let her die without suffering.”
The doctor folded his hands and leaned closer to the reverend. “The disease has progressed rapidly since the first time