“Stop it.” She laughed. “I’m serious. I need to do something. I can’t just sit around all day.”

“What did you do before?”

“Before you came home or before I came here.”

“Both.”

“I…” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“You don’t trust me?” he asked.

“Yes, I trust—”

Greylen grabbed her chin. “Why do you answer yes and no to me, yet, always aye and nay to my family and men?”

She seemed surprised by his question. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Maybe I’m more comfortable with them. We’ve had more time together.”

“Then you’ve found your first task. Find your comfort, immediately.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“’Tis not something I find humorous, Gwen.”

Their conversation was interrupted when Anna knocked on the door, informing them a bath had been filled in front of the fire. Greylen lifted Gwen and gently placed her on the floor. “Come, love, I’ve time for a quick wash.”

“What are you doing today?” Gwen asked, grabbing her robe and his shaving tools.

“We’re branding the cattle and horses. After the spring births, ’tis a task we’ve usually seen to by now.”

“Why didn’t your men take care of it while you were gone?”

“’Tis something I enjoy.” He shrugged. “Rounding the animals from pasture and marking them.”

“Yeah, sounds like fun,” she teased and stepped into the water. “Could you stop by the store on your way home tonight?” she asked playfully.

Greylen smiled. “And what would I get for you at this store?”

“Oh, the list is endless.” She laughed. “Tacos, doughnuts, Diet Coke.” Her eyes got wide. “How about a smart TV, and a Netflix account? We could cuddle in bed and eat popcorn and Milk Duds.”

He shook his head. “You’ll tell me of these—” He lost his train of thought as she placed her foot over the rim of the tub and covered her leg with soap from his lathering brush. She reached for the razor using long, upward strokes.

“I’ve a busy day, Gwendolyn,” he yelled.

“So, what in the hell did I do?” she yelled back.

“You’re distracting me,” he growled.

“I’m shaving, Greylen,” she informed him with a smile. “I do this every day too.”

He groaned and pulled her on his lap. Then he took the razor from her hand and gently ran the blade from her ankle to her knee.

“Now, ’tis I who thanks you, husband.” She obviously chose her words carefully.

Greylen dried her as they stood by the fire. He dressed as Gwen sat on the trunk at the end of their bed. He turned to say good day—images reeling through his mind as he stared at her. Images of the night he’d pulled her from the water, images of locking her satchel inside the very trunk she sat upon.