Joe's Wife by Cheryl St.john

found Tye on his feet, the saddle removed from the other horse and both saddles hung over the racks.
    "You don't have to do everything, you know."
    "Yes, I do," he replied.
    "Tye, when your leg hurts you, give yourself a chance to—"
    "To what?" he interrupted. "The only thing my leg needs is time. And that passes quickly enough." He took the sack she'd hung on a nail and wiped the horse down.
    "You'll let me tend to that leg tonight," she said, brushing past him.
    "There's nothing to be done."
    "We'll see about that." She left him in the barn.
    She had no idea what had happened to his leg, or where or how badly he'd been injured. Sleeping on the hard attic floor these past nights couldn't have helped his discomfort, and physically pushing himself to the limit undoubtedly added to the strain.
    Meg felt responsible on both counts. He'd chosen to sleep in the attic to spare her, and she hadn't opposed his decision. She'd also asked him to help her, and she'd explained just how bad things were and how much work there was to be done. He was driving himself too hard, and it was partly her fault.
    Gus had supper waiting, and Meg kissed his grizzled cheek. Then, she quickly changed clothing and helped him place the food on the table.
    That night Tye returned to the house after a few chores. He hadn't said no last night when she'd pressed another warm slice of her apple pie on him. He'd eaten it, drunk the coffee she'd poured and promptly chucked it up into the tall weeds behind the outhouse.
    His stomach had pained him the duration of the night. He wasn't used to so much food. But he couldn't refuse her.
    He hadn't said no to her request to accompany her to church that morning, and he hadn't refused when she'd asked him to come back to the house early this evening. He entered the kitchen, praying she wasn't going to ask him to eat again.
    "What happened to your leg?" she asked, and he turned to find her coming from the pantry.
    "Took some shrapnel."
    "Thank God you didn't lose it."
    "Yes," he agreed.
    "Let me have a look at it."
    He tensed instinctively. "It's not something you'd want to look at."
    "There are plenty of things I don't want to do that are necessary."
    Like marrying him?
    She poured steaming water from a kettle into a teapot and placed the lid on it. Turning, she picked up a tray. "Follow me."
    He followed her through the rooms, hesitating when he saw she planned to lead him into her bedroom.
    She turned and waited expectantly, and he grudgingly followed.
    "Take off your pants and lie down," she instructed.
    Tye stopped dead in his tracks. "Ma'am?"

----
    Chapter Six
    « ^ »
    T ye didn't know why those words from a woman's mouth should draw him up short, but they did.
    She reached to take his hat and hang it on the metal bedpost. "I can help you with your boots. I gave the jack to Gus."
    He'd consorted with women since he was old enough to shave, but he'd never been with a woman like Meg. His dignity demanded that he take control of the situation. "I can take off my own damned boots."
    Her gaze narrowed, and she paused in the midst of unfolding the crisp white sheet she'd brought from a drawer. "Very well then, do it."
    She left the room.
    Tye forced himself to move and sat on the edge of the soft mattress. Her violet scent emanated from the bedding and triggered a spiral of unease through his chest. He could have used her help. Bending his leg to pull the boot off brought cold sweat to his forehead. He managed it, removed the other and unbuckled his pants.
    She'd left the sheet for a purpose, he realized gratefully, wrapping it around his waist to protect her modesty and easing back onto the bed.
    She returned with an oilcloth and two cups of tea. "Drink this."
    He accepted the cup. The pale liquid had a bitter minty smell, and he sipped it, grimacing. She reached for the sheet and he steeled himself for her reaction. She folded it away from Tye's upper leg, and he knew the instant his thigh became visible. A