You will drink more?” “No, thank you.” She felt suddenly…

““You will drink more?” “No, thank you.” She felt suddenly tired and wished he would leave so she could sleep. Instead he stoppered the canteen and sat back down on the bed. She drew up her knees and stared at him. He stared back. The silence grew heavy, and so did her eyelids. “You grow weary,” he said softly, bending forward to drop the canteen and cup onto the dirt floor. “You will lie on your back, eh?” The thought struck her that he might lie down beside her, as he had during their journey. “No, no, I’m fine--really.” He clasped her ankle. The heat of his grip shot up her leg. Her breath caught at the familiarity. As accustomed to his touch as she had become, she didn’t like it or easily accept it. At home a woman didn’t even show her ankles, let alone allow a man to touch them. And this man touched her anywhere he chose, with no hesitation. He tugged lightly. “You will lie on your back? No harm, eh? I will watch.” “Must you?” “ Hein? ” Hein? Loretta had no inkling what that meant. “Must you watch? It makes me nervous. I can’t run away.” “Nuhr-vus?” “Nervous.” She shrugged one shoulder and then tried to pry his leathery fingers from around her ankle. “Nervous…uneasy.” She gave her leg a shake. His hand moved with her foot, his grip unbreakable. “Would you let go? It’s indecent, you touching me like this.” “In-dee-sent?” “Indecent. Shameful. Would you please let go? It is my foot, you know.” “And you are my woman.””

— Catherine Anderson