"When do they come back?"

"Near dawn."

"How do you know?"

"We stayed here all night once waiting to see when they came back."

"You and the twins?"

"No, me and your husband. Only he wasn't your husband at the time."

Meg intertwined her fingers. "I won't get upset if you say his name."

He slid his gaze over to hers. "I wouldn't want you to think I was being disrespectful."

"I won't think that."

Sagely, he nodded before turning his attention back to the flying creatures.

"I guess you've shared the bats with a lot of people," she said, wishing it didn't bother her to think about

all the women with whom he might have shared this unique place.

"Just you and the twins. Invited Lucian once, but he wasn't interested."

The smoky haze of bats disappeared, leaving an audible silence in their wake. Meg wished she could stay

here forever, away from the bitter words and hatred that filled the world below.

"He doesn't know what he's missing," she said quietly.

Chapter Thirteen.

"Miz Meg!"

Meg dismounted the next morning and hugged each twin before handing them the reins. "Thank you for yesterday evening," she said.

"Our pleasure, ma'am," Josh said. "And guess what? We figured out who you should marry."

Meg stopped walking, not certain she wanted to hear this announcement. How could she explain that she would never, could never many their brother?

"We decided you ought to marry Robert Warner."

"Robert?"

"Yes, ma'am. He seems nice enough, and you wouldn't have to change your name."

Meg laughed self-consciously. "I thought you were going to say I should marry your brother."

"Clay?"

She nodded.

"Ah no, ma'am." Josh said. "It wouldn't do at all for you to marry Clay. If you married him, he'd no doubt

want to kiss you from time to time, and we figure kissin' is unpleasant enough when you like the person

you're kissin'. It'll be downright miserable to kiss someone you hated."

Meg felt her heart lurch. It bothered her that the twins realized that she hated their brother. The words coming from their innocent mouths sounded so ugly.

They walked toward the shed. Clay stood in the doorway, waiting for her. Yesterday had changed something between them, and she had a feeling that the following days would more closely resemble the days they'd shared before Tom had needed a marker for his daughter.

When they neared the shed, the twins led the horse away. Clay gave her a cautious smile. "Morning."

She laced her fingers together. "Good morning."

"I like the way you're wearing your hair now," he said.

Meg touched the chignon. "This is less trouble than trying to imprison it in a knot at the back."

"Looks prettier, too." He stepped back. "It's been a couple of days since I did any cutting. Hope I

remember how."

"I would think it's not something you'd easily forget"

Tying his bandanna over his face, he walked to his table. Meg picked the bandanna off the chair. "Will

we need to wear these when you're cutting the details?"

"No," he said, his breath causing his bandanna to billow away from his mouth.

She remembered the feel of that warm breath last night on her flesh. Silling, she wrapped the bandanna

around her face. She was as anxious now to watch Clay work unmasked as she was to see Kirk's

features take shape in the stone.

Clay began to work, and clouds of dust materialized. Before she went home each evening, she stopped along the river to wash off the stone powder coating her skin. She supposed Clay felt even grimier than

she did at the end of the day. Even now, his hair was sprinkled with the fine particles.

Her thoughts drifted to Robert. He would make an exceptional husband, but the image didn't appeal to her as much as it had two days ago. His unspoken promise lay heavy on her heart.

Clay stepped down from the stool and walked to the table. He no longer felt the need to step outside and

dunk his head in a bucket of water when the scent of honeysuckle became too strong.

He'd taken it personally when she didn't want Tom to see her here, but in the past few days, he'd learned he'd rather have her here than not. "I'm stopping for awhile."

"Oh, yes, of course." She rose from the chair, walked to the stone, and placed her hand on the granite.

"I carved on the other side," he said.

"Of course." She moved to the other side and touched the shaved stone.

"Is something bothering you today?" he asked.

She sighed. "Did you tell the twins I hate you?"

"No, but they tend to notice a lot more than they should, and sometimes they sound like eighty-year-old

men thinking about life."

She smiled weakly. "They think I should marry Robert."

"He's a good man."

"He fought at Shiloh."

"Then I'd say he was close to perfect."

She pressed her forehead against the stone. "I loved Kirk so much. I can't imagine someone taking his

place."

"And no one ever will, but he was the kind of man who'd step aside and make room for someone else.

He'd want you to find happiness."

"Sometimes, it seems impossible. Watching the bats was the closest I've come to being happy in years.

The twins look at the world the way I used to, the way I always thought I would."

A dull ache throbbed through his chest for all she'd lost. Brave Meg. She'd watched the man she loved

ride away, never to return to her side. He picked up a small chisel and hammer. "Want to chip off a piece of the stone?"

She pulled her head back with such force he was surprised she didn't snap her neck. "What?"

He held out the tools. "Thought you might like to cut on the rock a little bit."

"I could ruin it. Then all your efforts would be for nothing."

"I don't think you'll ruin it. You can chip a small piece off this comer that I haven't touched yet."

Her eyes lit up as she walked to die comer and examined the stone, running her fingers along the edge.