Carnal Innocence

“Back off, Tucker.”
    Normally he would have. He wasn’t one to poke and prod where his hand could get snapped off. “It doesn’t sit well with me, thinking about you hurting.”
    “I’m not hurting.” But a headache was coming on as relentlessly as a highballing freight train.
    “Or worrying.”
    “Worrying.” She repeated the word twice, then dropped her head in her lap and laughed. There was a tint of hysteria in the sound that had the puppy bellying over to whine at her feet. “Oh, what’s to worry about? Just because some maniac’s out carving up women andleaving them floating in my pond. Why should I worry that Austin Hatinger’s on the loose again, and may decide to come back and blow out my windows? I certainly shouldn’t lose any sleep over the fact that he’s sure to try to put a few holes in you.”
    “I’m not looking for more holes than I’ve already got.” He ran a soothing hand up and down her spine. “We Longstreets have a knack for coming out on top.”
    “Oh, I can see that. With your eye blackened and your head bashed in.”
    Tucker frowned a little. He’d been thinking his eye was looking a lot better. “By next week the bruises’ll go and Austin’s likely to be back in jail. Longstreet luck works that way, darlin’. Take Cousin Jeremiah.”
    Caroline groaned, but he ignored her.
    “Now, he was a good friend of Davy Crockett’s. A Kentucky boy, you know?” His voice settled naturally into a story-telling mode. “They’d fought together during the War for Independence. ’Course, Jeremiah’d been no more’n a boy then, but he sure did like to fight. After the war he knocked around here and there, not quite sure what the hell to do with himself. Never settled down. It was like he couldn’t find himself a purpose. Anyhow, he heard about this ruckus going on in Texas, and figured he’d mosey on over and see his old friend Davy. Maybe shoot a few Mexicans. He was still this side of Louisiana when his horse stepped down in a rabbit hole. Tossed Jeremiah off. Horse broke a leg, so did Jeremiah. Had to shoot the horse, which pained Jeremiah some, as they’d been together the best part of eight years.
    “Now, it so happened this farmer came along, hauled Jeremiah back to his place in his wagon. The farmer had a daughter, as any decent farmer should, and between them they set the leg—it was a bad break and nearly did Jeremiah in, but after a couple a weeks he was able to hobble around on a crutch.”
    “And he fell in love with the farmer’s daughter, had a handsome brood of children who got rich planting cotton or whatever they plant in Louisiana.”
    “That’s true enough, but not my point exactly. Thepoint is Jeremiah lost his horse and walked with a limp the rest of his days. But he never did get out there to join Davy in Texas. At the Alamo.”
    She’d turned her head to rest her cheek on her knees so that she could watch him as he finished the story which was probably a lie. The odd thing was her headache had receded along with those warning jags in her stomach.
    “So the point is,” she said, “a Longstreet’s lucky enough to break a leg to avoid something more fatal.”
    “There you go. Now, honey, why don’t you gather up your dog and whatever you think you need and come on down and stay at Sweetwater for a while?” The instant wariness in her eyes made him smile. “We’ve got a dozen bedrooms or more, so you don’t have to stay in mine.” He flicked a finger down her nose. “Unless you’re ready to admit you’re going to end up there sooner or later anyway.”
    “I thank you for the graciousness of your offer, but I’ll have to decline.”
    The faintest shadow of impatience flickered in his eyes. “Caroline, you’ve got plenty of chaperones and a good solid lock on every bedroom door if you’re thinking I’ll try to sneak under your sheets.”
    “I’m sure you would,” she said, but with a laugh. “And don’t flatter yourself by thinking I’m afraid I can’t handle you. I have to stay here.”
    “I’m not proposing you move in permanently.” But it surprised him that the idea didn’t give him the shivers. “Just for a visit, till Austin’s where he belongs.”
    “I have to stay here,” she said again. “Tucker, up until the last couple months I’ve never taken a stand on anything. My whole life I’ve done what I was told, gone where I was pointed, and acted as I was expected to act.”
    “Tell me.”
    “No, not