As the days and weeks passed, the intimate moment she had shared with Trader at the fence repeated itself in her dreams, both waking and sleeping—all of which she thought she could cherish, all of which she thought would carry her through. But she had come to the realization she had fooled herself; she could never be happy being Trader’s wife in name only. She wanted him to love her as she loved him, just as deeply and as fiercely with the emotional and physical passion of true lovers. Fallon tried to occupy herself helping Patty in the garden and kitchen. Patty was wonderful company, but each day Fallon could not wait until after supper. For each night after supper, Trader had taken to the habit of sitting in the parlor. Fallon could not resist following him, sitting in a chair across the room, and glancing at him when she thought he might not be aware of her. Often he talked with her, or she played the piano while he read. He seemed comfortable in her company. Yet he was ever guarded.
