I lay in bed after a long day out on the homestead, my body aching and begging for sleep. With Connor gone most days, it took a toll on me. But I wouldn't let him know that. He would feel so guilty about leaving me to tend to the others all by myself, even though I could handle them. It was on nights like these that I missed Connor deeply. I missed waking up to his tight bear hugs that took me at least an hour to get out of, and his adorable apologies at breakfast when I told him. He was just so sweet and caring, but busy and hard to keep track of. If he wasn't out hunting, he was off taking care of business in Boston or New York. I was pulled from my thoughts when the bedroom door creaked open and I sat up, looking expectantly towards the doorway. Connor stood there, shoulders slumped and head bowed in his exhaustion. His hair was wet, no doubt from a quick jump into the river to wash away his sweat and grime of the journey.

"Welcome home," I murmured, climbing out of bed and walking over to him.

"Belle," he practically groaned when I got close enough, enveloping me into a tight hug.

"What brought this on?" I asked with a soft giggle, rubbing his back affectionately and waiting for my reply.

"I've missed you," was all he said as he backed me up until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed.

"I've missed you too, Connor. How was the trip to Boston?" I asked, gently pulling out of his grip to look up at his face.

His eyes were tired and he didn't bear a smile, but that was normal, however, this time he looked sad. When he didn't reply I gently cupped his face in my hands and made him look at me.

"Come to bed. You must be exhausted," I murmured, gently unbuckling his weapon holsters and taking off his bow.

He didn't move to help me, just stood there looking lost and alone, and once I had him down to just his pants and muddy moccasins, I let out a sigh. I went to reach for the belt that held up his animal skin chaps, but his hands took both of mine in his and lifted them to his chest.

"You have been so good to me, Belle," he said softly, still refusing to look at me.

"What is bothering you, Connor? You're behaving rather oddly and it is starting to worry me," I said, bending so that I could look up into his face that he had turned to the side.

"I received word in Boston that you had left the homestead. That you had left me," he murmured, finally looking down at me as he spoke.

"And who sent this word that I had left?" I asked, already suspecting who it could be.

"A Mohawk woman. When I had truly believed it, she had tried to make me hers. But then a courier brought me a letter from you. You had told me of everything that you had done while I was gone, and how much you missed me, and wished me safe passage home. I felt ashamed that I would believe such false accusations so readily, that I almost didn't come home," he rumbled, struggling to keep eye contact with me.

"Oh, Connor. I would never leave you. I love you too much to leave you. If I ever did leave it would be to protect you, and you would have come with me," I said, keeping my tone serious and uplifting.

"That is true. But I shouldn't have given in to my fear. I am sorry, Belle," he murmured, gently cupping my face in a big hand.

"You are forgiven, Connor. But I must confess that there have been many times that I thought you have been with other women. But then I realize just how naive you are when it comes to women and I can't help but laugh. You are loyal to a fault and have such a big heart. I can't blame the Mohawk woman for wanting a man like you. I am the luckiest woman alive," I told him, giving him my brightest smile.

He suddenly molded his lips to mine, crushing me to his big body. I melted into him, clinging to his wide shoulders to keep me from falling. He kissed me like a man desperate for the life I gave him. Like he drank from a miracle spring in the middle of a desert. It was in times like this that I knew just how much he needed me, how much he wanted me, how much he loved me. Even if he couldn't find the courage or words to say it. He pulled back after several moments, panting for air, and just stared down at me.

"Come to bed," I murmured, removing the belt that kept his chaps and boots on, letting them fall to the floor.

He stepped out of them and let me go so that I could climb into bed, and I looked over my shoulder at him. Waiting for him to join me. He climbed into the bed with me, pulling the covers over the two of us. I kept my back to him, but pulled his arm over my waist and linked my fingers with his. He scooted up behind me and slid his other arm under my head, pulling me flush against his front. He buried his face in my hair, breathing in deeply, and his fingers linked with mine tightened. Within minutes he was throwing a muscled leg over both of mine and tucking me slightly under him as he drifted to sleep, a rumbling sigh of contentment slipping out of his throat. I smiled into the darkness and let sleep take me as I felt treasured and protected. And loved. Always loved.