When Wolf left for the barn, Sloan put out the lamps in his study and went upstairs. A light shone beneath the door to Heather’s room. When he knocked and eased it open, he found her sitting up in bed reading, looking lovely and virginal in a high-necked nightgown. The long-sleeved garment, he suspected, was a concession to modesty; despite the warmth of the summer night, there was a strange man in the house.

Unable to restrain his dark mood, he said brusquely, “I gave Wolf this room for the night. It’s where he always sleeps. I’ll help you move your things across the hall if you like.”

He understood her look of surprise. There were two other rooms upstairs—one used primarily for sewing, the other for storage. Both had beds for any overflow of guests, although at the moment the bedsteads were stacked against the walls to allow more living space.

“It’s too much trouble set a bed up just for one night,” Sloan added more gruffly than he’d intended. “Besides, there’s no reason for Wolf to know our business. He’s leaving early in the morning. You can move back here tomorrow.”

Her gazed searched his, but without comment, Heather rose and put on a wrapper and slippers. As she gathered her toiletries and clothing, Sloan smoothed the bedcovers, then helped her carry some of her gowns across the hall to his bedchamber.

Janna was sound asleep in her cradle, Heather noted as he lit a lamp. She found places for her things while Sloan hung her gowns in the clothespress.

When they finished, the moment suddenly turned awkward. Heather saw Sloan glance at the bed, then back at her. In the palpable silence, she could feel the tension rising off him.

He did not want her here, she knew. Any more than he had wanted her at Doe’s grave.

He started to turn away, but Heather’s voice, low and troubled, stopped him in his tracks.

“Sloan … I am sorry about this afternoon. I didn’t mean to intrude on your past. It’s just that … Wolf thought Janna should see where her mother was buried, and I didn’t want her to go alone. I realize you were angry.”

Aware that his brother-in-law might return any moment, Sloan quietly shut the bedchamber door. He had been angry to find her at Doe’s grave; he was still angry. Maybe it was irrational, but he needed to keep that part of himself private, to keep his past life separate from his present. The glade was his own special place, the private sanctuary he had shared with Doe. He didn’t want anyone intruding on his cherished memories, most certainly not the woman who was becoming an obsession with him. It seemed somehow a betrayal of Doe.

Emotion a hard knot inside him, Sloan clenched his jaw. “I’d rather you didn’t go there again.”

“All right.”