Chapter 66

His lids were growing heavy by the time Micah returned, but the sight of him brought Jefferson instantly back to life. He had never seen the young man look like this. Sweat beaded his brow, and his cheeks were pinked from the heat of the kitchen. With his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looked broader, the hair somehow darker that dusted his muscled forearms. Perspiration also dampened the fabric to his back, a detail Jefferson caught when Micah went to stoke the fire once again.

“Everything’s ready,” he said when he came back to the chaise. “How are your legs?”