Dolly woke early, exhausted from her dream-filled sleep, and lay in bed rubbing her throbbing temples. She wasn’t ready to confront Byron yet, but when he knocked on the door and said, “Doll? I’ve got to get my clothes for work,” she realized she had no choice but to let him in. She dragged herself out of bed, padded over and unlocked the door, then hurried back to bed. She had the sheet over her head by the time he entered, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight to try to stop her head from spinning.

A moment later, she felt him sit down on the edge of the bed. “Are you all right, Doll?” he said. “I was really worried about you.”

She cursed his charade of kindness. How could he pretend to be concerned for her this morning, when just last night he’d been with another woman? “I’m not speaking to you,” she said.

His hand came to light on the sheet over her back. She squirmed out of its reach. She heard him sigh. “Doll, I’m really sorry about last night. I had no idea you’d be going to all that trouble with dinner and everything, and my buddies visiting kind of came up at the last minute—I came home early to try to make it up to you. I was home by ten. Where were you?”

She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “Do you want a gold medal?”

“Doll, I guess I don’t blame you for being upset. I know you’re not that happy in Pine Rapids yet. I shouldn’t have gone off and left you like that last night.”

She flung the sheet off her and sat up. “There are a lot of things you shouldn’t have done last night!”

He looked at her a moment. “Your eyes are all red. Were you drunk? Is that why you were sick?” Then he shook his head, his mouth a thin line. “You don’t have to answer that. I can smell it on you. I thought I smelled it last night, but I thought there was no way—”

“I was provoked,” she snapped.

“Where were you? Who were you with?”

She folded her arms, looked away. Her head was throbbing.

“I doubt those quilting friends of yours drink like that. Were you with that guy at that house?”

She looked at him, defiant, guilty. “What if I was?” she said.

He stood up as quickly as if she’d hit him. “We’ll talk about this later,” he said. He grabbed a shirt and pants out of the closet, underwear and socks out of his dresser. Then he was gone, slamming the door behind him.