Caress of Fire Read Online Free

change your sheets in the morning, before breakfast?”
    â€œDo it now.”
    â€œBut I’d have to dress.” Any excuse was worth something, she reasoned, then added a valid one. “And it would disturb the children, my getting fresh linen out of their room.”
    â€œLaggard.” Monika dropped down on the bed and curled her lip. “I assume you’re wanting to turn in so you’ll be plenty rested tomorrow. Perhaps for ducking into town. Again.”
    â€œMonika, please . . .”
    â€œYou were seen speaking with that Yankee McLoughlin. You aren’t planning another–”
    â€œWe’ve been over this before. Yes, I spoke with him. He offered me a refreshment, that’s all,” Lisette lied.
    â€œIs that what your Confederate soldier in San Antonio offered you? Refreshment?”
    It was as if a blast of winter wind hit Lisette, but her chill melted to the heat of anger. “Adolf told you not to speak of him again!”
    She might as well have saved her breath.
    â€œWe certainly won’t allow you the liberties you enjoyed during the war, when you were living in that wicked San Antonio with Onkel August and that English wife of his, and–”
    â€œGod rest their souls,” Lisette interrupted. “Leave them out of this.”
    Monika sniffed. “When it comes to propriety, we must be careful what could be said about those in our family. And this time, if you’re jilted, we won’t be able to keep it quiet.”
    May the devil take you. And may he take Adolf, too.
    She had been foolish to confide in her brother upon his return from the Civil War. And he’d been heartless, going straight to his vengeful wife and betraying his own flesh and blood. Thom Childress was best forgotten, but no way would Adolf’s Frau allow it.
    Was there a chance some miracle would set her free from Adolf and this wife of his? If only she had a job and the funds it would provide, she could make her own miracles.
    Lisette started down the ladder. “I’ll get those sheets changed now.”
    She took care not to awaken her nephews while gathering linen. Within ten minutes she had Monika and Adolf’s bed changed. Her brother, yawning and tugging on his yellow beard, offered a curt “Good night” before he limped over to settle on the clean sheets.
    â€œBefore you go back to the barn, fix mein Mann and me a cup of chocolate,” Monika ordered. “And don’t make it so hot this time. You nearly boiled our tongues last night!”
    â€œLeave her alone,” Adolf bellowed; he didn’t object to the hot drink.
    A few minutes later, Lisette again entered the bedroom.
    Propped up in bed, her brother reached for the cup. “Otto Kapp spoke with me this afternoon. I’ve given my permission for your marriage. You will wed him as soon as arrangements can–”
    â€œI will not.”
    â€œOh yes, you will.” Monika crossed her arms under her bosom, and her marble-like scrutiny went to Lisette. “And you’d better be thinking of an excuse for your wedding night. I’ve been told chicken blood works well. You may take one of our hens as a wedding gift.”
    â€œMonika, you’ve no right to imply my sister isn’t chaste.” Bending a skeptical eye at his sister, Adolf said, “If you are in need of the hen–”
    â€œRuhig! I have heard enough.” Lisette whirled around, ran from their bedroom, and slammed the door.
    Unfortunately, the noise awakened her eldest nephew.
    Karl howled, and Lisette appeased him with a promise of cocoa. But his cries roused his brothers, so Lisette took baby Ludolf to his mother for nursing, then comforted the older boys with a song about the spring fires that turned nearby Cross Mountain into a kettle for “boiling Easter eggs.” Her melody made no mention of the true sources of those blazes: the Comanche. Afterward, she warmed more