The Amish Heart of Ice Mountain by Kelly Long

needs a healer. I feel yer dochder, Sarah, has the right spirit fer doin’ the job.”
    He’d swallowed at her words, heard the cow shift restlessly in the dry straw, then felt a shiver go through him as he thought of the mysteries of healing.... Sarah . . . my Sarah . . .
    â€œ Ach, don’t give in to the fear that haunts ye—give the child a chance fer a different sort of life.” Grossmuder May had nudged him with the tip of her cane and he’d nearly jumped.
    â€œI ain’t afraid.”
    The auld woman had cackled out a laugh, but then he’d seen her wrinkled face soften in the dim shadows of the barn. “ Ach , but ye are—and one day, ye’ll face those fears. But fer now, we talk of Sarah. What do ye say to me teachin’ her how to serve our people?”
    I’ll face those fears , he thought, hearing the words echo again and again in his mind. But when it came to Sarah, and the way May put it, he knew in his heart that he had no choice.
    â€œ Jah ,” he’d muttered. “ Jah , she may serve.”

Chapter Nine
    Edward found his way back to his new home before dark; the whiskey had long before lost its glow in light of the appearance of the engineer. He sighed as he eased open the front door, hoping Sarah would be asleep. Instead, she was reclining in a high-backed brass tub. She’d moved the kitchen table and chairs to the side to make room for her bath. His gaze was transfixed as the water formed rivulets of steam around her surprised face.
    He almost backed out of the room; it could fast turn into a torture chamber, he realized painfully. But he steeled his resolve, closed the door behind him, and pulled the latch tight. He turned to face her, fighting to keep his gaze above her shoulders, then dropped his leg over a turned hard-backed chair. He pillowed his chin on his fist, watching her.
    She pulled her slender knees up to her chest and hugged her arms about herself, but there was no mistaking the gentle and enticing curves of her body as the water caught the kerosene lamplight and glistened on her skin.
    â€œGet out,” she finally managed, the shock still on her face.
    Yet he couldn’t leave. He’d never seen how long her hair was before, but now, piled in a haphazard mass atop her head, a few honeyed brown strands fell loose to touch the floor, while a few more lay against the slender curve of her neck.
    â€œ Nee ,” he whispered, mesmerized. “I’ve been out all afternoon and done my penance for stealing your drink. Now I’m thinking that a husband’s right to watch his wife bathe may be a gift—one I’d not thought of before.”
    She arched a dark brow. “I would have supposed you’d thought of everything before.”
    â€œIn regard to physical pleasure?” He lowered his gaze. “Why, thank you, I think.”
    His lone eye didn’t miss the rosy flush coloring her cheeks as she glared at him before looking away. He ignored the fact that his knuckles were white where he clenched them beneath his chin and wondered exactly what she imagined he knew . . . the ideas were as tantalizing as she was, sitting there.
    â€œI wish you’d give me some privacy.”
    â€œI wasn’t aware that was part of our agreement.” He was teasing her, and working himself up at the same time. “I’m pretty comfortable right here.” Liar.
    She shook her head, the loose, damp strands sticking to her shoulders. “If the situation were reversed, I’d let you take your bath in peace.”
    â€œI’d rather you wouldn’t.” He continued to look at her, this time meeting her eyes. Keeping his gaze on her face gave him a little relief. He didn’t want to take the teasing too far.
    But if she only knew what she was doing to him simply by sitting in a tub of bathwater . . .
    She tried to finish her bath as demurely as she could, making sure to keep herself as