the subject of bastards as carefully as it was possible for a gentle lady of means in society. She knew how children were created, and she fully meant to be married before she had any. She knew there were ways of preventing children and ways of getting rid of them. She knew very little about those ways, but common logic told her where to find the answer when she needed it. She prayed she wouldn't need it, but the chances were far better if she got out of Tyler's bed right now.
She tried to pull the quilt over her breasts as she sat up, but Tyler had it wrapped around his hips and was lying on it. She struggled to find her chemise in the tangled debris of the bedding, but he seemed to be lying on that, too. Her toes grazed his leg, and she jumped backward from the contact, but it was already too late.
He turned on his back and stared at her. Stricken, Evie couldn't look away from his eyes. They weren't amber any longer but a deep, festering brown that had none of the laughter and charm she associated with him. She couldn't look away even when she knew his gaze had dropped from her face to her breasts. She merely fought to pull up the quilt.
Glowering, Tyler jerked the quilt away, wrapped it around himself, and got up. Evie tugged the tangle of her petticoats back around her legs, but not before the motion exposed the dark stain marring the cotton. Still cursing, he tore away the sheet wall and threw it at her before stalking out.
Evie watched him go with a mixture of relief and disappointment that gave way to outrage. Keeping the sheet wrapped around her, she hobbled over to the hot ashes and the pot of water she had left hanging there. Thank goodness she'd had the forethought to set out water for their morning ablutions.
She scrubbed herself viciously with the old cake of lye soap she had found the night before, all the while contemplating with pleasure the image of Tyler washing in the icy cold well water. That should take some of the starch out of him.
She dressed hastily in fear of his return. It was obvious that whiskey and grief had been the influence the night before, but she couldn't be sure that he wouldn't decide to come back for more now that the damage was done. She was rather uncertain about how a man's mind functioned. Or his body. She knew men liked to look at her. She knew they often wanted to do more than look at her. But except for those few stolen kisses at times of excitement over other things, Tyler had done a very good job of ignoring her. She wasn't at all certain that he really desired her in the way a man does a woman.
And she had no wish to find out. She buttoned up her bodice waist as far as it would go despite the fact that the air was already warm. She dragged on all her petticoats and ignored her rumbling stomach.
She was just finishing fastening the buttons of her shoes when Tyler walked back in.
He had slicked back his hair with well water and donned fresh clothes from his saddlebags. He evidently didn't possess any of the colorful shirts Evie had seen on some of the men here in Texas. The one he wore now was of the same respectable white linen he wore in town, although he didn't bother fastening a collar or cravat to it. She tried to keep her gaze from straying to the tight crotch of his fawn-colored trousers, but she was aware of it, just the same. She pulled her skirt down farther and returned to buttoning her shoes.
"If you're ready, I've got the horses saddled."
Evie's head went up quickly, but she didn't say a word. What did one say to a man who had just taken one's innocence? Judging from Tyler's behavior, it wasn't "Good morning, darling." Her book reading and imagination failed her.
She followed him out to the brightness of a Texas morning and watched as he brought the two horses forward. The one she recognized as his, but the other wasn't the one Ben had ridden. She turned him a questioning glance.
"I reckon it belonged to one of the thieves. I found it wandering out by the road last night. You can ride, can't you?"