Joe's Wife by Cheryl St.john

Friendship."
    "My family won't speak to me already," she said just above a whisper. "This will only make it worse."
    "I warned you about that from the beginning," he said honestly. "But you were willing to risk that. You said if the good people of Aspen Grove snubbed you, they weren't worthy of being your friends."
    Her beautiful eyes filled with tears and he immediately regretted putting them there. He wished he could take her in his arms and comfort her, somehow make it better. Eve was his responsibility, and he certainly didn't mean to place Meg in an awkward or embarrassing position.
    Quickly, she lowered her gaze to the shirt in her lap.
    "I don't want you to be sorry," he said, barely above a whisper. "I don't want you to lose your family and friends. We could still change our minds."
    Her head snapped up. "Are you saying if I want you to keep our agreement I have to accept this?"
    "No, I'm just saying it's not too late. We can get an annul—"
    "No!" She tossed the mending to the floor and sat up straight. Meg stared into Tye's eyes, unfathomably dark and blue in the lamplight. She'd vowed she would do anything, endure anything to keep Joe's ranch. She'd already married this man she barely knew. What was so unreasonable about taking in an orphan, too? What choice did she have now? "We'll work it out. Let's take care of your leg."
    "You don't have to—"
    "When your leg hurts too bad, you're cranky and you can't do as much work."
    "And you need me to work the ranch."
    "Yes." She stood, knowing it was an unkind thing to say and using it to get back at him for this—this unsettling development. She hurried into the kitchen with a swish of skirts and returned with the bowl and towels.
    As though he deserved the reminder of his purpose there, he got up and followed her into the bedroom. She turned her back while he removed his pants and reclined beneath the sheet. "Where did you sleep last night?" he asked.
    She turned back and placed the oilcloth beneath his thigh, mentally distancing herself from this man who now shared her life … her home. "On the floor."
    "In here?"
    "Yes."
    "I don't want you to sleep on the floor."
    "I don't want you to sleep on the floor."
    "Can't we share the bed?"
    She paused, keeping her gaze on the towel in her hands, and pulled the shawl a measure tighter around her shoulders. Her heart skipped a beat, and she didn't understand why. She'd thought out this arrangement, mentally prepared herself for each situation and development.
    "I mean just share the bed. Not … any thing else."
    She believed he meant that. And if he desired to make more of their sleeping arrangement, she had already determined she could do that, too. It would happen sooner or later anyway, wouldn't it? "I guess we can. This is hot."
    "Go ahead."
    She placed the steaming towel on his mutilated flesh and he released his breath in a hiss. She didn't derive any pleasure from knowing the remedy hurt him. After repeating the treatment several times, she opened the bottle of liniment and rubbed it into his scarred skin, hoping the oil and the massage would help to ease and stretch the taut new skin.
    The lower half of his long leg, his knee and his shin, were muscled and covered with dark hair. His foot was nicely proportioned and his toes long, curly hair sprinkled there, too. She wondered if Tye had that dark dusting over all his limbs as well as his chest. Joe had been fair-haired.
    She was thinking about him as a man … as a husband. The thoughts shocked her, but she couldn't help herself. "Tye?"
    "Hmm?"
    "Lottie. She's—she was—a prostitute?" She couldn't look at him.
    "Yes."
    " Rosa , too?"
    "She was. She's getting married."
    "You … you knew these women?"
    "I knew Lottie."
    "In the biblical sense."
    "It was a long time ago."
    "But you said there was nothing serious between the two of you. Just friends. Don't you think that is serious?" She had a difficult time imagining doing something so embarrassing with someone you