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glance across the table to her.
"I'm sorry." She lowered her spoon to the table, appearing ill at ease.
"It's a habit, I'm afraid. Stefan doesn't believe you should talk at the
table, not while you're eating."
"I see." He bent his head, struggling with the grimness he felt. Then he
shot another glance at her. "Well, if you don't mind, I prefer to talk while I
eat. Or do you share your husband's opinion?"
"No, it's just always been the custom in our home." The wind picked up its
fury and rattled the tar-papered sides of the shack. Lilli tensed at the
noise, feeling it push at
her.
"Something wrong?" Webb asked.
"I can't get used to the wind," she admitted and dipped her spoon into the
soup again. "It never seems to stop blowing out here."
"It will get to you if you let it," he remarked.
"How do you prevent it?" she asked with an attempt at a smile.
"Think about something else." He shrugged.
"That's easier said than done," she replied."When it blows like that, I just
feel so cooped up in here."
"Cabin fever," Webb diagnosed her ailment with a slow smile.
"What's that?" She looked at him with an interested frown.
"It's a common malady around here," he explained. "It comes from spending
too many days inside with the same four walls looking back at you all the
time. The symptoms are restlessness, irritability, and melancholy."
"I think I've come down with a bad case of it," Lilli declared. "What's the
cure?"
"I don't know of any." Webb smiled sympathetically. "Eventually it just goes
away. My mother said it used to help to have company come."
"Yes." She seemed to consider that thought. "It is nice to have someone to
talk to."
"Other than your husband, of course." He wanted to bite his tongue for
mentioning that.
"Stefan isn't much of a talker." She shrugged and ate her soup.
"I gathered that," Webb murmured dryly.
"He's a quiet, simple man, very strong and gentle." She paused as if
thinking about something. "He's changed a little in some ways since we came
here."
"Oh? In what way?" His voice attempted to conceal the curiosity her
seemingly innocent remark had aroused.
"There was a time when he hated the thought of owing anyone money. But when
we sold our crop this year, he didn't pay off the loan we had at the bank. He
borrowed more money to buy some additional land," she explained, then quickly
defended his action. "I'm sure it will be a good investment, though." She
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glanced at his nearly empty bowl. "Would you like some more soup?"
"No, this is plenty," Webb refused and wiped the bowl clean with the crust
of bread.
"I'll get you some coffee." She pushed her chair away from the table to
fetch it.
The heavy sweater made a lumpy shape of her as Webb studied the shine of red
in her hair under the lantern light. The sights and sounds in the room were
pleasing to him--the smell of coffee in the cup Lilli brought him, the soft
swish of her
skirt, and the look in her eyes that she didn't always hide.
"I could get used to having a woman do things for me." Webb smiled as he
took the cup from her.
"Most men can." She moved to her own side of the table, poised and showing
no sign that she took his remark personally. "First their mothers look after
them, then their wives. Men generally don't like to do things for themselves."
His gaze narrowed a fraction as he sensed there was something derogatory in
her observation of the male sex. "I suppose some men marry for the convenience
of having a wife to take care of them and satisfy their needs."
He suspected it of a few married couples he knew. Their attitudes toward
each other were in marked contrast to the special relationship between his
parents. Maybe that's why he'd noticed it. Maybe that's why he hadn't been
willing to take a wife, because he envied what his father had and didn't want
to settle for less. He'd never thought about it much before now.
"I suppose some men do." She suddenly seemed reluctant to share her opinions
with him.
Irritation rippled in him at the way she alternated between being natural
and open with him and pulling back in aloofness. "And I suppose some women
marry for the convenience of having a man to take care of them and satisfy
their needs." The hard tone in his voice made it an accusation. He was
immediately sorry when he saw her pale slightly.
"If a man and woman are satisfied with what they have, I don't think an
outsider's opinion of their arrangement is important," she retorted stiffly.
"Are you satisfied with what you have, Lilli?" he asked quietly.
"That is none of your business, Mr. Calder." The anger that flared in her
eyes seemed to mask pain. "I shall ignore your
rudeness this time."
His mouth thinned into a silent line. He wasn't about to apologize for the
question, so he drank his coffee instead and let the conversation die.
Outside, the storm prowled around the shack, isolating them on an island of
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