Part Three

Historical Notes

I cheated on the wedding service. It’s from the 1928 Episcopalian Book of Common Prayer. Only God and maybe David Dortort know what faith the Cartwrights espoused, but most certainly they weren’t sixty-four years ahead of their time.

Musical Notes  

The definitive version of the 300-year-old Irish tune Planxty George Brabazon is on the CD “Water from the Well,” by The Chieftains.

Bonanza Notes

This assumes that the Cartwrights are the ages assigned by David Dortort: Ben was born about 1810, Adam in 1830, Hoss in 1836, Joe in 1842. ~~ Adam’s horse Sport is the original one, the one with attitude, who was in the credits for years, but present only until the middle of Season Two. ~~ The layout of the ranch and barn also is from early in the series, when there were many trees and a bench in front of the house. ~~ And I played fast and loose with geography, just as Bonanza did; the house is up in the mountains, but a only an hour from town—rather an achievement, given the actual distances.

Disclaimer

Ben, Adam, Hoss, Joe, Hop Sing, Paul Martin, Roy Coffee are not mine. Neither is Governor James Warren Nye, who doesn’t even belong to David Dortort; presumably, he belonged only to himself, but as he’s been dead since 1876, let me simply say that I hope he’s been portrayed respectfully. Everyone else belongs to me, whether I want them or not.
Copyright © September 2003 As allowed

Chapter One

BEN CARTWRIGHT awakened in the past. It was not surprising, the morning after the night before … a night which had ricocheted from pure evil to total joy. He didn’t know yet whether evil would claim a victory—an old man’s life—or if the joy, his joy, was more than passing.

It had been a tumultuous few hours. With his sons, he’d faced down the adversaries of statehood and opened the door to the future for Nevada; a beloved old friend and employee had been beaten nearly to death; and the woman he loved had suddenly, miraculously, let him know that her heart might be open to him. It was almost too much to comprehend.

So he awakened far away. In New England, long ago … or perhaps it was here and now. Maybe he wasn’t awake at all. Maybe he was dreaming. Or was he in that strange half-world that sometimes existed between nighttime and the day?

It was as if he’d gone back to observe the beginning of his life … all those years ago, when he’d felt he had the strength to conquer anything. How little he’d known then! In his wildest dreams, he’d never have guessed what enormous fortitude living would take. In his bedroom at the Ponderosa, he watched the sequence of his years unfold around him.

He floated backward to his youthful days aboard The Wanderer, to the joy of first realizing that he was in love with Elizabeth, that she meant more to him than the sea. He could feel their elation when they’d learned she was with child, just as he still knew the devastation of her death and the bleak time of struggle without her. The only positive thing he could recall from those years was Adam … a silent boy with enormous eyes that seemed to reflect his mother. He’d loved Adam more fiercely than anything in his life, with the desperation of a man who had lost his bearings, who didn’t know how to live. But even then, he’d failed his son and he knew that would haunt him until the end of his days. He’d given Adam everything that was in him, but all of himself back then was nothing.

Blessedly, there’d been the redemption of Inger, the invitation to life again. To warmth and happiness and love. She may not have possessed Elizabeth’s challenging intellect, but she’d shared his first wife’s capacity for giving of herself, and better than anyone he’d ever met, she accepted and forgave the shortcomings of her fellow man. She was, in so many ways, life itself. To this day, he would never understand how such goodness could die.

He would never forget her gift to him either; she’d taught him how to hope. At a time when he’d had none, she’d appeared in his life with a lesson that never could be unlearned—that even in the darkest days there is beauty and one must always seek it. She had been his beauty, and even when she’d become his second tragedy, he could not stop hoping that somehow he would find again the love he’d known with her. And with Elizabeth.

He certainly never would have guessed that he’d find it in New Orleans with a beautiful Creole whose background could not have been more different from his. She hadn’t been like his first two wives—or perhaps she had, and it had been he who had been different. He didn’t stop to question it. With Elizabeth, he’d known an equality of partnership; then Inger had taken the lead in restoring his spirit; and with Marie, he’d been allowed to give back some of the love and compassion that had been stored up inside of him. He’d helped her come alive again after the disillusionment she’d suffered at the hands of her first husband. At least he’d never had to question the character of the women he’d chosen. Marie had had to learn to trust again.

The amazing thing, he reflected, was that from all that pain and loss, he best remembered the happiness. Was that the sign of a life well-lived? He had so few bad memories. While it was painful to recall the times when he’d lost the women he’d loved, he had dwelt, overall, on the fullness of their days together.

Thinking of those days, he realized how much he’d withdrawn, gradually and imperceptibly, into himself since Marie’s death. Oh, yes, he’d remained constant with his boys—but that part of a man which related to a woman, which responded to the tenderness and caring of a wife, had slowly folded its wings and settled away into some corner of himself that he’d hardly known existed. It was as if a certain richness was missing from the air, and only now, as he contemplated Lily Mercer, did he realize that loss.

In the darkness of the wee hours, he succumbed again to sleep, or perhaps the dreams merely slipped away, but the images faded and the room became quiet as his past disappeared into the evocative air. Somehow, on the edge of his consciousness, he knew that it all had to do with Lily … life was speeding up, gaining color and brilliance, sailing into a stratosphere he’d known before, so long ago. He just needed time to understand it, and very likely strength. And courage. One more time.

<<<<<>>>>>

Adam Cartwright was dreaming of Henry David Thoreau when he awakened. “Morning is when I am awake and there is dawn in me.” Not a chance. There isn’t even dawn outside yet. “Little is to be expected of that day … to which we are not awakened by our Genius, but by the mechanical nudgings of some servitor.” That’s for sure. So what is that infernal noise?

The infernal noise was the barest scratching at his door. He groaned and muttered, “Come in!” The events of the previous night were coming back to him.

The door drifted open only a slender margin and a young girl’s face appeared around it, her eyes large. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

Michaela. Adam woke up fast, checking immediately to make sure he had on a nightshirt. He did, a black-striped cotton edition that was a concession to the house being full of guests.

“No—that’s all right. Come in.” He pushed the pillows back against the headboard and sat up, pulling the covers over his chest. Then he lit the lamp on the bedside table.

Michaela Van Dine, dressed in her nightgown and robe, with her dark hair braided down her back, slipped into his room. Her feet were bare and she looked a great deal younger and more vulnerable than her ten years.

“I’m sorry, Adam, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to know. Is Brownie—is he still alive?”

Adam’s face softened. “He was as of last night.” He tossed one of the pillows to the end of the bed and motioned for her to climb up. “And if no one’s pounded on our front door yet, that means he still is.”

“I wanted to wait till sunup,” she said. “I knew you wouldn’t get much sleep.”

Adam glanced at the window. He rarely closed his curtains and outside, the night’s blackness conceded only to the feathery grey of pre-dawn.

It wasn’t surprising that the brutal beating of the old man she’d grown fond of had upset her, he thought. She’d seen Brownie, bloody and unconscious, where the thugs had thrown him on the front porch, had watched as he and Joe and their father had ridden off on a mission of vengeance, and as Brownie’s helper and Lily Mercer had taken the old man to the doctor. But she hadn’t any way of knowing what had happened after that. She’d been asleep when they’d returned from town or he’d have gone to comfort her then.

“He was still unconscious when we came back, but Doc Martin said he’d send word if there was any change.” He studied her concerned face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She arranged the pillow against the footboard, crossed her legs under her nightgown and leaned back. “Yes, please. What happened?”

“From what we can tell, some of McWhirter’s men beat him up as an anti-statehood message to Pa. Apparently shooting at you and attacking Pa and Lily wasn’t enough for them.”

“What’d you do when you got to Virginia City last night?”

He ran a hand through the ruffle of black hair that fell over his forehead. “After we left Brownie at Doc Martin’s, we found McWhirter at a political rally. Pa wound up giving a speech that got some attention, so the statehood issue now looks well in hand.” He betrayed a little smile. “You’ll have to ask Lily how she helped.”

For a second, Michaela’s curiosity outweighed her worry. “What’d she do?”

He shook his head. “You ask her. I’ll just tell you she did a good job. I’m not sure Pa would have been as successful without her.”

“Did she and Uncle Ben—you know …”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. They rode back from town together.”

“And you don’t know what happened?”

“No. And if I may say so, it’s just like a woman to ask a question like that.”

She started to giggle and then sobered. “I’m glad that Uncle Ben got statehood taken care of … but Adam, what if Brownie dies?”

His expression darkened. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Can’t you just go get those people who did it to him?”

“Sweetheart, unless Brownie can identify them—and that’s doubtful because they probably wore masks—we can’t prove anything. We think we know who did it, but our hands are tied.” Before his eyes, the life seemed to fade from her face and she wore only a tight, cold look that was disturbing. “Try not to think about it. The most important thing is that Brownie recovers.”

“But that’s not fair.”

“Mickey, that’s how things are sometimes. What if we punished the people we thought hurt Brownie and we were wrong?”

She swallowed heavily and regarded him with piercing blue eyes that were clouding with frustration.

“If that happened,” he said, “we’d be as bad as the people who hurt him.”

“I understand.”

“I know it’s hard.”

She didn’t meet his eyes, but instead curled her knees up in front of her and wrapped her arms around them, her posture and set face closing out the world.

“Sometimes, I think if I had a gun, I could kill people who hurt others,” she whispered. “Why do some people hurt others? Especially those who can’t fight back?”

Adam sighed deeply. He couldn’t—could not—set her wrong. “Mickey … I don’t know. Maybe the day I can understand that will be the day I can do it, and I don’t want that to happen.”

“Do you shoot people?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why?”

“I can’t remember a time that it wasn’t either self-defense or to defend someone else.”

“How does it feel to shoot a person?”

Adam slipped a hand inside the placket of his nightshirt as if to steady himself.  “If it’s someone trying to kill me or someone else, it’s not too bad, if I only wound him. If I kill him, I never feel good about it.”

“Why not, if he’s trying to kill you?”

He waited until his silence forced her to look at him. “Because a life isn’t mine to take. Not that I haven’t taken men’s lives—I have. But I’ve never come to peace with it.”

She nodded, her face still taut with the effort of comprehending.

He pulled the blanket even farther up. “Come here,” he said softly.

She needed no second invitation, crawling quickly over the covers to lay her head on his chest. For all the times she seemed so grown-up for her age, she was, after all, so innocent and new.

“Adam, is statehood worth it?” He was considering his answer when she rushed on, “I don’t doubt that it is—I’m not saying Uncle Ben is wrong. But I know you’d ask … so I thought I would too.”

Adam rested his head against the headboard, wondering if she could feel the beat of his heart beneath her cheek. Every now and then she simply took his breath away.

“Yes, I think statehood’s worth it. Nevada will be a better place to live on account of it. But is it worth a man’s life, especially one taken so senselessly? Mickey, I don’t think there’s an answer to that.” He stroked her hair. “We have to hope Brownie gets better.”

“If you can’t catch them, will they come and hurt us?”

“I doubt it. That’s all over now.” He wondered what his father had felt when he and Hoss and Joe had asked questions like that, out of the blue, that couldn’t really be answered and yet had to be addressed.

She propped herself on his chest to look into his eyes. “I think you can find them. And you can find a way to prove that they’re guilty.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I feel funny … like I shouldn’t be happy, because we can’t be sure yet that Brownie’ll be all right.” She subsided back to his shoulder. “But I shouldn’t be sad, because Hoss is getting married and statehood’s okay and all that stuff. It’s a lot to be thankful for.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to balance. Maybe a little more sleep would help.”

“I’m glad you did. But why don’t you close your eyes?”

“Do you mind? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I have pillows behind me. Now go to sleep …” She had dozed off before he finished the sentence.

Adam smiled. Children, it seemed, were like puppies and kittens. They ran on raw energy forever and then just fell over in their tracks. For a second, his fingers tightened on her thin arm. He was sorry that she’d been exposed to the harsh reality of the attack on Brownie, but at the same time thankful that he’d been there to help her with it. He just prayed he’d said the right thing—and that Brownie recovered. He was questioning less and less his role of substitute parent; he wished that Michaela would talk to her own father about life’s serious lessons, but in the absence of that, he had to do the best job he could to stand in for Aubrey Van Dine.

He shifted subtly to get more comfortable and let his eyes drift shut. Henry David Thoreau had gone, and he settled into a deep and satisfying sleep.

<<<<<>>>>>

The sun was barely up and the house was silent when Ben awakened again, and this time there was no thought of going back to sleep. Even though he knew he’d hardly rested, he was ready, even eager, to face the day.

He washed, shaved and dressed, and came out into the hall, treading carefully so as not to awaken anyone. Noticing that his oldest son’s door was open, he was about to close it when he paused to appreciate the scene before him. Adam was propped against the headboard, his black hair disheveled, his face tranquil. He was sound asleep, his arm wrapped around the child who curled next to him on the blanket. Michaela’s face lay against his chest, her single braid looping over the pillow beyond.

Two faces, he couldn’t help thinking, looking at his son and the little girl, each so articulate in the repose of sleep. Both young, Michaela at the beginning of life, Adam—for all his intellect—only partially experienced in it.

Suddenly he felt as if he were in the vortex of a whirlwind and actually swayed slightly on his feet, grabbing the doorframe and trying to catch his breath. He could almost feel Elizabeth close to him … in the depth of his emotion, in the knowledge of how she would share his pride and his love, in the awareness of how like her Adam was.

She had been a great deal more outgoing than their son, Ben recalled, but who’s to say how Adam would have turned out, had he not suffered so much tragedy as a child? Even with his reserve, he had his mother’s warm heart, a spirit which never knew when to stop giving. Hoss was the one famous for bringing home wounded animals and strays, but really, Adam was about as bad … not only animals, but people. He was always trying to help any downtrodden, misunderstood or mistreated person. Time and again they betrayed his trust, but somehow that never seemed to break him.

Ben swallowed heavily. Somewhere, somehow, a long time ago—probably when he’d endured the loss of three mothers—a line had been drawn around Adam’s heart. The difference in his first two sons was that when Hoss gave of himself, he gave everything, and when he was hurt, he was devastated. Adam, on the other hand, gave as much as he was able, freely and without hesitation, but when he was let down or deceived, he just absorbed the disappointment. There was a part of him that even he couldn’t access, a final level of his feelings that was protected. So far he had never been asked to give it; Ben didn’t believe that any of the women Adam had said he’d loved had really achieved that last inner sanctum.

Sometimes I’ve despaired for him, he thought, as if he were speaking to Elizabeth. He deserves so much more. I couldn’t take away the pain that caused this. Even as he thought the words, he knew the real crime was that no one could have done that. Life simply came as it did and the greatest strength a man could have was the ability to endure it. Adam had that in spades.

He leaned against the doorframe, his head clear now and a warm happiness welling up within him. It’s changing now. I’ve waited so long for him to meet a woman that would unlock his soul, but the job has fallen to a little girl.

Maybe he should have known all along that the key to Adam’s heart would not be found in an expected way; that would have been too easy.  He was sure that his son had not anticipated the far-reaching implications of a chance friendship with a needy child. Probably he didn’t yet realize that once the door to his heart opened, there would be no closing it.

Across the room, he saw Michaela’s eyes open, but like a young animal, she didn’t move a muscle. Her great solemn blue eyes just stared at him. He smiled as he remembered that she was writing a story to show Adam how much she loved the Sierras … she was, on all counts, an unusual child.

And then he noticed that while Adam was under the covers, Michaela was lying on top of them and the bedroom was cool. Tiptoeing to the end of the bed, he unfolded the extra cotton blanket that was there, spreading it over her. She regarded him sleepily and snuggled in closer to Adam, her eyes drifting shut. She probably wouldn’t remember waking up, he mused, and leaving the door open so that Michaela’s mother would have no trouble finding her, he descended the stairs.

The air was clean and fragrant when he crossed the yard. It had been a while since he’d felt the inherent beauty of a Sierra morning, and he wondered just how numb he’d been for the past several months. Now it was as if every nerve ending was drinking in the day. He was happy to be alive—he was happy, period.

Part of it, he figured, was because there had been no knock at the door in the lost hours between midnight and dawn. Brownie must have survived the night, and knowing the old man, that meant he would survive the day too.

Ben stopped abruptly. If he lost Brownie, he lost not only a valued old friend, but a link to his own past. The old scout had known him before … had known those old days of dreams and hard scrabble. He took a moment to pray again that Brownie would recover, adding an admission—a selfish acknowledgement to God—that he needed that connection to his own life.

“Morning, Mr. Cartwright!”

Ben looked up in surprise to find that Brownie’s helper was already cleaning the stalls.

“Morning, Robbie. You’re up early this morning.”

“No earlier than everyday … well, maybe a little bit,” the boy replied. “Gotta make sure everything’s like Brownie wants it when he gets back.”

Ben smiled to himself. Brownie probably had no idea how much his friends cared about him. It wasn’t surprising; the old man was simple and uneducated, but he’d never told a lie in his life and he’d give anyone the shirt off his back—not that his shirt was worth a red cent, but that was just the kind of person he was.

It wasn’t until he had saddled Buck and ridden away from the house that he finally let his mind dwell on Lily, and how their comforting hug had turned into a passionate kiss. “Tomorrow,” she had said—today. He would find out how she felt about him today.

I’ve been falling more in love with her every day, he realized. It had been a mistake to let her go last fall. He knew that now. He still believed that love couldn’t be forced, but he remembered how he’d felt when he’d lost Elizabeth. If Howard Mercer had been as exceptional as Adam remembered, then he could understand Lily’s desolation. He should simply have been patient; the good Lord never gives us more than we can handle, he reminded himself. I could have helped Lily learn that … find her way through the darkness. More than anyone, he knew the joy that could be waiting on the other side of loss.

He turned Buck up a slope of pines which filtered the sun and cooled the air, at last emerging on the crest of the hill that overlooked a little valley which ran south through the ranch. Already clouds were beginning to close over the peaks above, looking like great white crowns in the azure sky. They’d been expecting rain for three days now, and he just hoped it would blow through before tomorrow evening’s wedding reception, which they’d planned for the yard in front of the house.

He shifted in his saddle and his thoughts returned to Lily. The fact was that in addition to loving her mind and spirit, he needed her physically as well, and that was something nature wasn’t letting him escape. It didn’t surprise him; he’d always been a man of appetite, and if he’d tried to behave with decorum and to set a good example for his sons, that didn’t mean he hadn’t known—and on occasion satisfied—normal masculine desires. What had caught him off guard with Lily was that his desire, instead of diminishing with age, seemed to have grown. He was almost breathless just thinking about taking her to bed. Good heavens, one benefit he’d appreciated when he’d gotten older was that while he still enjoyed women, he had more control over how he reacted—he was no longer vulnerable to just any woman. But when his interest was fixed, as it was with Lily, it was a not-so-humorous joke to find himself at the mercy of his body.

Buck snorted, trying to graze, and Ben pulled up his head to turn him back down the hillside. He’d gone farther than he’d intended; he’d be lucky to be back in time for breakfast. Even though he knew that Lily was unlikely to make a dramatic avowal over the bacon and eggs, he found that he was suddenly just anxious to be in her presence. After all, his most important decision already had been made: Unless she had a damn good reason why he should leave her alone, he was going to do whatever it took to win her.

It was well after nine when he rode into the yard and turned Buck over to Robbie. He was just opening the front door when he noticed that he was whistling, and with a charge of pleasure recognized “George Brabazon.” The old Irish tune had been special to him since childhood, and had seemed even more dear when he’d found out it was a favorite of Lily’s as well. But since the previous October, the very thought of it had been too painful to bear.

The stillness of the deserted great room silenced him.

“Hop Sing! Where is everybody?”

The Chinese cook appeared at the hall to the kitchen. “All go out.”

“What’d you mean, they all went out? Where did they go?”

“Mis-tah Adam and Mis-tah Hoss go to town to see if Mis-tah Bwlown can come hom’. Mis-tah Joe take ev’yone else to new house. Last wo’k befo’ wedding.” The little cook peered curiously at Ben. “Where you go?”

“I—uh, the upcountry. Lily went too?”

“She ha’ no choice. Missee Jul-ya say go.”

“I see.”

“You like ham an’ eggs?”

“Ah, no. No, I’m not very hungry. Perhaps just some coffee.”

Hop Sing nodded, and Ben stilled his impatience to see Lily. They’d waited this long; he wasn’t going to die if it took a few more hours. He admitted a little grin. Lily and Julia Van Dine—Michaela’s mother and the wife of an old friend who was now the Ponderosa’s commercial agent—had come from San Francisco to attend Hoss’ wedding. Knowing them, he was not surprised that they had gone off to help the bridal couple be sure everything was ready.

His gaze fell on a leatherbound volume that lay on his desk. Le Comedie Humaine. Lily had suggested that he’d enjoy the French writer Balzac, and she’d been right. For a moment, he considered wiling away the day reading and just waiting for her return, but the stack of paperwork on his desk put an end to those thoughts. He set the book aside and faced the daunting task of bringing the Ponderosa’s records up to date.

Ben was on the porch, papers spread across the table, when Hoss and Adam returned late in the morning. The first thing he noted was the empty buckboard, and he rose to meet his sons with a stab of worry.

“Brownie ain’t ready to come home yet, Pa, but he’s gonna be all right,” Hoss said quickly, reading his father’s expression. “Doc Martin says with the weddin’ an’ all, it’d be best if he stays there for a coupla more days. We can go get him on Sunday.”

Ben smiled crookedly. “We’ll go get him, Hoss, but you won’t be along.”

“No,” Hoss chuckled. “Guess I won’t at that.” He went on inside.

Adam debated following his brother and then threw himself into one of the chairs with such force that Ben glanced at him in surprise. “Is something wrong?”

“Other than the fact that we don’t know who beat up Brownie? Or let me correct that—we know who did it, but we can’t prove it.”

“It’s early yet. Give Roy a chance.”

“He’ll need more than a chance.” Adam’s tone was sour. “The word on the street is that McWhirter’s hired gun, Arch Danhoff, was behind it, but of course no one’s talking.”

Ben regarded his son, noting the tense set of his shoulders and the coiled look of one leg, braced against the table. “You need to calm down,” he said. “Your brother’s wedding is tomorrow and you don’t want to spoil it. There’ll be time to find the men who hurt Brownie, and if Roy needs our help, he’ll ask for it.”

“I know.” Adam exhaled a long breath. “I was even telling Michaela that statehood’s more important than catching the men who attacked Brownie.”

“You’re right, you know—as much as it would hurt to let those men go free.”

“That’s easier to say before you’ve seen Brownie.”

“Hoss said—”

“Hoss went to pick up some supplies. He wasn’t there long enough.”

“And you were?”

“I sat with Brownie for a while.”

Adam didn’t say any more and Ben sat back thoughtfully. All those years ago, when his son was five … how close he had been to the scout who’d led the wagon train on the first long leg of their journey out of Illinois, and then later, for a stretch farther on. Since Brownie had turned up two years ago, broke and not strong enough for heavy ranch work, he and Adam had reclaimed their bond of friendship. But Adam was hard to read; Ben wouldn’t have figured that he was any closer to the guide than Hoss and Joe were, and both of them had taken to the old character immediately. He realized again that his eldest son’s most serious feelings always had to be guessed.

“You know, I got to thinking …” Adam’s voice sounded quietly in the late afternoon stillness. “If Brownie hadn’t had to take the Bensons and the Thorpes and the Franklins down to Vieux Ford, we never would have gotten involved in that Sioux raid. None of that trouble would have happened because Brownie wouldn’t have let it happen.”

Ben fought the sudden wrench in his gut. He knew what Adam was saying. Had Brownie been there, Inger wouldn’t have died. Brownie had stepped lightly over the land, riling neither man—certainly not the powerful Ogalala Sioux—nor beast.

“You’re right, son,” he said a little hoarsely. “I didn’t realize you’d gotten so close to Brownie. I know you’re friends, and you certainly have history—”

“I don’t know exactly how close I am to him,” Adam said evenly, “but he’s one of us and he didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

Ben stared at his son. That was so like Adam, and there was no way to tell if he meant his words or if he simply didn’t care to discuss his feelings. Most likely it was both.

He shut the two ledgers and stood up; the accounting could wait until after the wedding.  “Why don’t we go inside?” he said. They were almost to the front door when he reached out to grip his son’s shoulder. “Promise me you’ll let this go for the time being.”

Adam stopped to meet his gaze. “All right,” he said. “And I know, you’re right about letting Roy handle it too.”

Ben let his relief show. “I’m glad to hear you say that. I know you believe it; I count on that, son.”

Adam grunted impatiently, but he seemed to relax and his eyes warmed suddenly above a quirky little smile. “Don’t worry—I’m not going to ruin Hoss’ wedding day. We’ve waited too long for this and I wouldn’t dream of getting in the way.”

Chapter Two

As it turned out, the final preparation of Hoss and Eleanor’s new home lasted late, and Joe was maneuvered into inviting all of the Vances—including the dreaded Aunt Louise Calthrop—to the Ponderosa for a last celebration before the wedding. Ben had to sit across the table or across the room from the one person he wanted to be alone with, and worse yet, to endure the overly-enthusiastic attentions of Eleanor’s spinster aunt. Only when Lily shot him an understanding glance did he finally relax.

Settled in one of the red leather chairs, relieved of dodging the predatory female only because the others had involved her in a discussion about honeymoons, he allowed a small laugh at himself. He certainly was learning to put his own wishes first; here he was on the eve of his son’s wedding and all he could think about was his own love.

He indulged in just observing Lily.  Hope, like a spring breeze, had blown open a portal inside him and suddenly no detail was small enough to escape his notice. Even after a full day of work, dressed casually and somewhat disheveled because there had been no time to clean up, she looked lovely. He was mesmerized by a slender wisp of auburn hair which drifted in the air by her cheek; if he were sitting next to her, he might tuck it behind her ear for her. And he liked the way her thin linen blouse was open one button at the throat, how it suggested the opulence of her breasts.

Mercifully, it was a short evening, as everyone wanted a good rest before the festivities. With relief, he watched Hoss load Miss Calthrop into the surrey for the trip back to the Vance home, smiling weakly as she declared that she expected several of his dances the following evening. That necessitated a severe glare at Lily, whose eyes were bright with amusement, as were, he noticed, Julia’s, Joe’s and Adam’s.

But then the carriage drove away and Julia shepherded Michaela indoors, Joe and Adam in her wake. When Ben and Lily didn’t follow, they found themselves alone in the yard, looking at the front door as it closed behind everyone else.

Without a word, he offered her his arm, leading her away from the porch. In anticipation of the coming storm, the air had turned balmy, and they were out of the yard, beyond the corral in a stand of pines, before he spoke. “I was beginning to think our ‘tomorrow’ would never happen.”

“So was I,” she admitted. “All I could think last night was that we were both so tired, we hadn’t any business talking about anything important. If I’d known what today would bring, perhaps I’d have reconsidered.”

“No, you were right … as much as I cursed every second that went by without you.”

Her breath came a little faster at his words. “I’d planned to wait till after Hoss’ wedding to—to tell you something.” She blushed. “I—ah, I lost a little control last night, so I suppose now …”

“Before you say anything, let me add that I, too, was waiting until after the wedding to see—well, at least to talk to you.”

Her eyes brightened in surprise. “Really?” But she hesitated, fidgeting nervously. “Would you like to go first?”

He took her hand and realized that she was trembling; she was so tense that already he wanted to take her in his arms. “Lily, last fall in San Francisco, I made a terrible mistake.” The color drained from her face, and his other hand moved quickly to reassure her, his curled fingers brushing gently across her cheek. “I let you walk away from me.”

Her lips parted with a small sigh of relief and just for a second he was lost in what that told him—that she didn’t want to lose him. He was also lost in the shape of those lips and how much he wanted to kiss them.

“I wanted to respect your wishes,” he continued, confidence taking over from hope. “I know now that I’ll always respect you—but I’ll always love you too, and I can’t let you walk away.”

Her luminous eyes filled with tears and the trembling returned. “Hold me, Ben, please …”

He was only too happy to comply, enfolding her against his chest, one hand moving to stroke her hair.

“Just relax, Lily.” He couldn’t even begin to tell her how good it felt to have her in his arms again. He had no idea yet of how she felt—if she loved him—but it didn’t matter. She would love him; he knew that as surely as he knew the sun would come up over Lake Tahoe.

At last her breathing slowed and when she finally looked up at him, he didn’t have to ask how she felt. He could see it in her eyes.

“Please forgive me for last fall,” she said. “It’s no excuse, but I was so terrified. Almost as terrified”—she allowed a timid smile—“as I was when I realized I’d been so wrong. I do love you, Ben. I loved you then and I don’t think I ever stopped loving you, although I did a good job of fooling myself.” Her breath caught. “I love you beyond anything you could imagine.”

He closed his eyes for a second, savoring a profound happiness, before crushing her against him again so that she could feel the race of his heart. He kissed her forehead, her temple, her auburn hair, drank in her delicate scent and deliberately abstained from her lips. There would be time for that soon, but for now it was enough just to hold her.

From somewhere, his old friend the owl shouted a long, triumphant series of notes. It sounded as if the bird were signaling a great event, and as phenomenal as everything seemed with Lily in his arms, Ben found it utterly appropriate. He leaned back against a tree, taking her with him, listening to the wind pick up as it rustled through the pines around them.

“I could stay here forever,” she finally murmured, “as long as you were holding me like this.”

“And I would be,” he said tenderly. “I don’t think I can let you go.”

She raised her head, looking up to see his face. “I can’t believe I was as stupid and blind as I was—that I lost us so much time—”

He pressed a finger to her lips. The long empty months seemed to dissolve in his memory. “Hush. I don’t want to hear it. You’re here now. That’s all I care about.”

“You’re sure?”

He kissed her then, a long, slow, respectful kiss that conveyed his emotions and only hinted at the flood of desire which roiled just beneath the surface. “I’m sure, Lily.”

At first his only feeling was gratitude—to her, to life, to God for bringing her back into his life. His fingers traced lightly over her back, absorbing the texture of the delicate blouse, in their heightened awareness noting the outline of her undergarments and the intriguing way her spine curved beneath his palm. It seemed so natural to be holding her, charting such details as if they would always be a part of him. He was becoming lost in everything about her … and before long, the sensation of her body against his worked its magic. An agreeable heat was rising under his skin.

“There’s something you have to know, Ben.”

“H’m?”

“Tonight … it wasn’t really that I hesitated to tell you how I felt. I’ve been waiting to say that all week.” She looked up at him and her tongue ran hastily over her lips. “But suddenly it was so astonishing. Even I hadn’t guessed how very much I love you and—you know, it’s a scary thing.”

“As a matter of fact, I do know.”

“Thank God,” she said, smiling lazily as she lay her head against his shoulder again. “And then of course there was the simple fact that you were taking my breath away.”

“That’s nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yes.” He chuckled, low in his throat. “I like taking your breath away.”

He shifted involuntarily, pleasurably, against her. Probably he should step back and put her at arm’s length for propriety’s sake, he thought, because she was beginning to have a noticeable effect on him. But he couldn’t move away; instead he widened his stance and tucked her snugly against him once more, his arms low on her back to hold her close. She sighed, her eyes alluring as her hips undulated instinctively against him. Then she slid her hands around his neck, her nails ticklish above his collar. He knew that their play could lead nowhere tonight, but somehow that made it even more entrancing.

“I tried so hard not to love you,” he said gruffly. “I wasn’t any good at it … all winter, it seemed that whatever I did, wherever I was—I was wondering what you’d think of it … how you’d like it.”

“I stayed so busy, thinking I could push you out of my heart.”

“It seemed to me that you’d succeeded. You were so sure of yourself when you arrived.”

“I was sure of myself? Good heavens, I was quaking in my boots! You, on the other hand, were so perfectly at ease!”

They both laughed and exchanged stories of how they’d survived their long separation, chuckling at the pain which had once been so threatening.

“And when I fell off Skylark after riding astride!” Lily recalled. “How did you manage to be there? I was mortified! And then, of course, when you picked me up, it was all I could do not to kiss you!”

“Why didn’t you?” he teased. He moved against her again, enjoying the exquisite torment and the answering flicker in her eyes. “I certainly wanted to kiss you.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“Even then?”

His smile was quizzical. “What do you mean, ‘even then’?”

“That was days ago. I thought—I mean, I had no idea—I didn’t think you were at all attracted to me …”

“Oh, Lily!”

In the midst of their laughter, a splatter of rain suddenly sounded in the trees overhead. Ben had time only to see Lily’s expression of disbelief before she broke free and bolted for the house. They were both drenched when they gained the front porch, as the long-expected storm opened in the skies over the Sierras.

“Goodness!” Lily said, giggling, and then dropped her voice. “I think the gods are against us!”

“As long as it’s only for tonight,” he returned, his eyes crinkling with laughter as well. “Let’s get inside. The temperature’s going to drop pretty quickly.”

They found the great room deserted, as everyone else had gone to bed. The only lamp burning was on the table by the stairs, but even in the gloom, Ben could tell that Lily’s pale blouse was nearly transparent when wet. Above her corset, she wore only the lightest chemise, and her full, round breasts were clear to his gaze. She was as aroused as he was, and his insides seemed to melt. He wondered if any woman ever really knew what the sight of her body did to a man; he could barely hold on to himself.

Catching a glimpse of her flushed face, he stepped nearer, his arms gently encircling her as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. “My dear, you’re very beautiful,” he said huskily.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the flattery,” she replied, relaxing at his touch and adding with a hint of amusement, “but despite the appearance of this blouse, I’d prefer to choose the time and place to disrobe in front of you. And frankly, the living room of your home is not on my list.”

“You have a list, do you?”

“You’ll be happy to know that I’m compiling one.”

“M’m-h’m.” He nuzzled her throat, liking that she didn’t retreat from the subject of lovemaking.  “Would you like to tell me about it?”

“One of these days,” she murmured, dropping a kiss on his cheek, her breath warm against his ear.

He was simmering, a primitive craving threatening to overwhelm him. “You ought to dry off,” he forced himself to say. “I don’t want you getting sick.”

“That means you’ll have to let me go,” she whispered, “and I’d really rather you didn’t.” She slipped her arms around his neck, pressing her body insistently against him.

“Lily …” he groaned. There was no way she could mistake the urgency of his need for her.

Her nostrils flared and her blue eyes glazed—involuntarily perhaps, but strongly and unarguably a reflection of her desire for him, and in an instant it unleashed his own feelings. His throat constricted and the long months of denial removed his will … just, it seemed, as they did hers.

“My love …” he breathed, and kissed her again, hard, his tongue probing between her lips, invading her mouth in a promise of delights to come.

Her breath escalated roughly and he could hear his laboring as well. He allowed his hand to slide to her waist, deliberately and provocatively over the front of her blouse, and her response to him burned into his palm. Nothing in the room was real but her and he realized dimly that he was losing his reason. He could not have this woman—the woman he loved—tonight. He could not take her here, now, just yards from his sons … their friend … a child. But God, how he wanted her.

From somewhere, he tried to summon the will to master himself. You have no right to risk hurting a child, a faint inner voice finally reminded him—a child who was sleeping at the head of the steps. And he could not escape it. He renounced her lips and buried his face in her hair, praying for the strength to overcome his own drive to have her.

Somehow she knew. “Michaela,” she whispered.

He couldn’t let her go and his breath still was harsh when he finally managed to answer, “Yes … Michaela.”

She kissed his cheek and gently pushed away from him. “I love you,” she said softly.

He took her face in both of his hands, gazing down at her before he kissed her deeply and passionately, but with finality. “I love you, too,” he replied. “Sleep well.”

<<<<<>>>>>

The storm which blew through the Sierras that night was at the end of its run, and the low dark clouds dissipated over the lake. The rain abated within the hour and by dawn, the earth was already beginning to dry. At mid-morning, in bright sunlight, the ranch hands began stringing paper lanterns for the evening celebration and Adam joined Hoss in the barn to clean up the buggy his brother would use to bring Eleanor back from the church.

“Adam, I got a question an’ I need for ya to tell me the truth,” Hoss said as they dragged the vehicle into the barn aisle. He produced rags and a cleaning agent, while Adam found a tin of saddle soap to condition the seat and top.

“I’ll be glad to, but you know I’ve never been married. You might want to try this on Pa.”

“It ain’t that.” Hoss acknowledged his brother’s humor with a grin. “Nope, it’s about Pa.”

“What now?”

“Well, you saw ’im this mornin’ at breakfast. Don’t it look to you like he’s right smitten with Miz Lily? Just like we wanted ’im to be?”

“What makes you think that?”

“The way he looks at ’er. Did I look that way when I first fell fer Ellie?”

A slow grin rose from Adam’s lips to his eyes. “Yeah, brother. You did.”

Hoss’ blue eyes lit with pleasure. “Well, I’ll be. Our pa. Finally.” Then his expression clouded. “Question is, does she love him? She ain’t jus’ funnin’ with ’im, is she?”

“No, she’s not funnin’ with him,” Adam replied. “She loves him.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Well, I’m not Lily and I’m not Pa, so I can’t be one hundred percent sure. But she—look, Hoss, this is none of our business.”

“She told ya, didn’t she, Adam? That’s why you haven’t wanted to talk about it all along, ain’t it?”

Adam nodded. “Yes, and if it were anybody but you, I wouldn’t have said this much.”

“I’ll keep my mouth shut.” Hoss worked up a foam of suds on the buggy’s leather top, and in a few seconds, giggled delightedly. “Our Pa … if that don’t beat all.”

Adam smothered a grin. Hoss’ wedding day, and his brother was concerned about their father’s romantic future.

“Joe’ll be happy. He likes Miz Lily right well.” Hoss stroked steadily with the sponge and then glanced up at Adam, catching him with a serious glance. “An’ so do you, an’ that’s what I’m countin’ on.”

“What’d you mean?”

“Aw, you know Joe. It don’t take too much for him to be real high on a gal. But you’re pretty hard to please, Adam. If you like Lily like you said the other night, then she’s got my vote.”

Adam was touched. “Yeah, Hoss. I like her very much.”

“Good.” Hoss grinned and this time Adam noticed a wicked gleam in his eye. “Then I want ya to make sure Pa and Lily make somethin’ public before Ellie an’ I get back from our honeymoon.”

“Huh?”

“Well, now, you gotta admit that the one thing that’d make Ellie’s Aunt Louise stay home is if she thought Pa was spoken for.”

Adam began to snicker.

“Otherwise, I figure she’ll turn up just about ev’ry Sunday for dinner. Don’t laugh. I’m serious, brother.”

But Adam just continued to laugh, finally slumping against the buggy and wiping his eyes, not quite sure why he thought the idea of his sweet, long-suffering brother afflicted with the overbearing Louise Calthrop was so funny. He was, he realized, just ready to release the tension of worrying about his father and Lily.

When he’d finally sobered and returned to work on the carriage, Hoss surprised him yet again. “How come it is, Adam, that you’ve never married?”

Adam’s head came up, his eyes suddenly guarded. “Ah … I guess because you found Ellie first.”

Hoss gave him an appreciative chuckle, but didn’t let the topic go. “Yeah, I did get lucky there.” He ducked his head and went on, half-mumbling, “So maybe this is a good time to say I wish the whole thing with Regan Miller’d never happened.”

Adam stopped polishing the buggy. Just the thought of the insincere woman Hoss had loved made him flush uncomfortably. Even though she’d belonged to his brother, he hadn’t been immune from her charms. He’d wanted to discover her true intentions, but it had been at the expense of Hoss’s feelings. “Ah … that wasn’t my finest hour.”

“No, but lookin’ back, I don’t reckon you started out to make trouble.”

“Yeah.” Adam struggled with his words. “But I didn’t like hurting you. That was the last thing I wanted.”

“I know that, Adam.” Hoss’ voice was calm. “An’ maybe that’s why I’m sayin’ what I’m sayin’ now. If I hadn’t got outta that, I wouldn’t a-been here for Ellie.” He nodded his head in the self-effacing way that was so natural to him and his eyes twinkled happily. “An’ that woulda been a shame.”

Adam met his gaze. “Maybe we both learned something.”

“Yeah. But y’know what, older brother …” Hoss’ voice turned serious again. “It occurs to me that you seem to know a whole lot more about what kinda woman not t’marry than the kind you should marry.”

“Well, to each his own.” Adam went back to polishing, moving on to the buggy’s shafts.

“One o’ these days, Adam.”

“One of these days, what?”

“It’s gonna happen to you.” Hoss gave him a silly grin. “An’ let me tell ya, brother … there ain’t no feelin’ in the world like lookin’ at a woman the way Pa was lookin’ at Lily this mornin’.”

<<<<<>>>>>

The morning flew by, the only surprising development Hoss’ lack of interest in lunch. The meal was just a quick repast of sandwiches, but it was almost comically apparent that it wasn’t what was on the table that was stealing Hoss’ appetite.

Then it was time for everyone to get ready for the ceremony.

“I know it’s terribly untraditional,” Aurora Vance had explained to Julia and Lily. “A wedding should be held in the morning. But out here, so many of our guests have more than a full day’s work to tend to, we wanted to make it as easy as we could on them. We thought five o’clock was better for everyone.”

Lily had assured her that while the time might be unusual back East, it would not have caused remark in the South, where the heat put off almost all weddings until the evening.

Now, as Julia began buttoning the back of her dress for her, she groaned. “I wish this wedding had been last week! I can barely breathe!” The bodice of the rich Prussian blue dress fit like a glove atop a long, full skirt. “My corset’ll have to be tightened.”

Julia laughed. “Blame Hop Sing’s good cooking!” She set about unhooking the buttons to reach the corset ties. “But you still look lovely.”

“No dinner for me tonight!”

Outside in the hall, they heard Ben’s and Joe’s voices as they went to find Hoss for the trip to the church.

“Oh, Lily, that’s silly!” Julia whispered. “The way Ben was looking at you this morning, he’s hardly going to notice a fraction of an inch!”

“Perhaps you haven’t looked at Ben lately,” Lily retorted, her face flaming. Since breakfast, everyone had been treating them strangely and she wondered how obvious they’d been. “He lost weight over the winter—not that he needed to, but he’s looking awfully … well, he’s very fit.”

Julia’s eyes sparkled and her lips twitched with humor. “Yes, I agree, he’s looking very fit.” Lily glared at her. “All right, I do understand, you want to look your best. But honestly, you’re just fine.”

They heard Hoss respond, and the sound of retreating footsteps as everyone but Adam, who would drive the women, left for town. When they’d finished the corset adjustments, Lily helped Julia into her dress and then they hung out the gowns they would wear at the reception in the evening.

Down the hall in Adam’s room, Michaela presided over tying his tie, declaring that his previous attempts might have been fine for dinner at home but were hardly satisfactory for his brother’s once-in-a-lifetime wedding. Adam, enjoying her concern, sat quietly while she fashioned an acceptable bow with the slippery black silk tie. He fought a grin at her focused expression.

She stepped back and held up a hand mirror. “There.”

“Perfect, as usual.”

“You’d think a grownup would be able—”

“You’re really starting to like this teasing stuff, aren’t you?”

Her eyes gleamed. “You said you wanted me to.”

He squeezed her shoulder as he stood up to put on his jacket. “That I did, and you’re very good at it.”

She turned to his desk, running her fingers lightly over the sextant that lay there and then turning her attention to the brass astrolabe. “If I’m careful, would it be all right if I pick this up?”

“Of course.” He threw her a quick, affectionate glance. He’d never known her to be careless about things, particularly not objects of personal value, as his grandfather’s old navigational instruments were. Only Captain Stoddard’s telescope was missing, lost somewhere in the years between his daughter’s death and his own. They were Adam’s most cherished possessions, along with his mother’s framed image and her music box.

Michaela studied the astrolabe, a flat disc engraved with numbers around the outer edge, with part of its center removed.

“That’s a ‘star-finder,’” he told her. “An astrolabe, from the Greek words for ‘star’ and ‘grasped.’ You figure the altitude of the sun or a star with it, and when you’re at sea, it helps you know where you are.”

“I see. Lily and Uncle Ben told me that the sea can be like your life … they said because it’s so big and doesn’t seem to have any limits.” Her eyes gleamed. “Does an astro—astrolabe—help with that?”

“’Fraid not, sweetheart.”

She examined the instrument and set it down. “Adam, how come Hoss found a wife before you did?”

He grinned. “I’d guess he’s just better with the ladies, Mickey.”

She gazed at him solemnly. “Why don’t you get married?”

Looking into her clear, candid eyes, he sighed. “I don’t know that I ever will.” 

“Why not? Don’t you want to?”

“Ah …” He’d promised himself he’d always be truthful with her. “Yes, of course I do.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“It’s not really a case of being sure. I don’t think I’ll be sure until I meet the right woman and that hasn’t happened yet.”

“Nobody?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve come close a couple of times.”

“How do you figure out who’s right for you?”

“There aren’t any hard and fast rules, Michaela. It differs for different people—what’s right for you might not be right for me.”

“Okay. So what sort of woman would you marry?”

He studied her face; her gaze had become sober and questioning. “All right. I don’t know if I can answer you, but I’ll try. … For me, the important thing is honesty. If a woman isn’t honest with me, I’m not interested.”

“Have you been lied to?”

“Once or twice. But it’s not so much that I’ve had bad experiences as it is that being honest with someone about who you are, what you believe, how you feel—it’s all a mark of respect. And I believe that you can’t have real love, at least the kind of love I want, without respect.”

“I think I understand.”

“Mickey, if you never hear anything else I say, remember this. Respect is the single most important thing between people. If you really believe that someone else has every right and reason to be that you do, you’ll build strong friendships, and one day, maybe, a strong love. Think about it: every right and reason to be that you do. It’s not easy. You have to do it even when you don’t agree with them.”

She nodded. “I see. But that’s good for everyone. How do you pick which ones, you know, to marry?”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. She wasn’t going to let him dodge away. “That’s where the differences come in. There’s always that last indefinable little thing that makes one person especially attractive to another. I hope I’ll know it when I see it.”

She fiddled with the satin streamer that belted her dress. “Do you really look, Adam?” When he didn’t answer, she stared him in the eye. “I mean, I wonder if anyone knows you might want to love them?”

“I’m not gonna go around wearing a sign, Michaela.”

“No, that would look pretty silly.”

“You just have to wait for it to happen.”

“Yes, but … Adam, do you give everyone the chance you gave me?”

“What d’you mean?”

Her face was a study in concentration. “Do you treat anyone—a lady, I mean—the way you treat me?”

“Of course not. There’s not a woman that I love like I love you.”

“Well, but … you do so many things for me and I know you care about me. Maybe if you did that for some lady, you’d find out that she was your someone special.”

“Mickey, it doesn’t quite work that way.” He ran a hand lightly over her hair. “You’re unique.”

“Is it because I’m not grown up?” She searched his face. “Remember when I thought Uncle Ben and Lily were sweet on each other and you said people like that lots of times wait to say how they feel because they’re afraid to be hurt?  Well, I mean, I can’t hurt you or anything. Is that it?”

For a second, Adam had trouble breathing. “No, Michaela, I treat you differently because you are special to me.”

Her eyes seemed to look right through him, and he was forced to admit to himself that she’d struck close to home. She was very special to him—that was no lie. But he also felt more comfortable around her because he was safe with her, whatever that meant. He pushed the thought out of his mind.

He squeezed her shoulder. “Now, come on, we have a wedding to go to.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“You weren’t rude.”

“I care about you.”

“I know, sweetheart—and I care about you.” His eyes twinkled. “If I ever find a woman like you, you can bet I’ll fall in love.”

<<<<<>>>>>

“Sure seems funny.” Hoss shrugged uncomfortably and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. “Don’t seem real, somehow.” He tried to pace in the tiny vestry of the church, but the room where the Reverend Culbertson stored his cassock and hymnals allowed for only a few strides.

Ben smiled sympathetically. “Getting married, you mean?”

“Yeah. I’m s’ happy it scares me to death. In fact, I’m so scared, I’m scared o’ bein’ scared.”

“What’re you afraid of, son?”

“I don’t rightly know, Pa. I mean, it ain’t like I don’t know Ellie. I love ’er—I can’t wait till we’re married. And it ain’t like I’m afraid of standin’ up in church and sayin’ so. Worst thing that can happen is I get nervous and don’t say the right thing, but Tom’s gonna marry us no matter what I say. So what’s got me s’ spooked?”

Ben leaned back in his chair, his expression understanding. “Hoss, that’s a question that will never be answered. But if you didn’t feel this way, I’d be worried about you.”

“You mean you felt like this too?”

“Every time. Of course! I think perhaps it’s just something within ourselves reminding us of what a serious thing we’re doing, marrying a woman. It isn’t something to be taken lightly.”

“Well, I sure ain’t doin’ that.” Hoss’ voice was fervent.

“You’ll be fine, son.”

Hoss swiped a hand over his slicked-down hair and sighed softly, descending from his anxiety and turning pensive. “Y’know what? It’s been a long time since I thought about how much I wanted my ma here. Not that I don’t think about her, ’cause I do.” His hand traveled over the soft leather cover of the Bible that lay next to the Reverend Culbertson’s vestments. “I don’ know if I can make sense of it, Pa—not a day goes by that I don’t think about ’er. But sometimes it just hurts too much t’ wish she could be here with me.”

Ben’s voice was soft. “I know how it is, Hoss. But I think on your wedding day, it’s right that you’d want her to be with you.”

Hoss looked up gratefully. “Yeah. That’s what I figured.”

For a few seconds, Ben was in another world, in the past again. He could see Inger’s face, so gentle and loving, as if she were standing next to their son. Her pale blue eyes—the ones she’d bequeathed to Hoss—were glistening with pride.

“I think she’d be crying, son,” he said, surprising himself with his words. His lips curled into a smile. “Not with sadness, of course … but because she just couldn’t be happier for you. She had the biggest heart—she had a heart that was your size … and today, it would be overflowing with love. I’m sure of that.”

“What else, Pa? What would she be thinkin’ today?”

Ben’s eyes twinkled. “She’d probably be buttoning that collar you just undid. Smoothing your coat. Telling you to stand up straight. Telling herself you were a grown man and didn’t need to be treated like a boy.” He stood up and went to Hoss, pushing his son’s hands out of the way and refastening the open collar. “One thing she wouldn’t be doing would be giving you advice on how to treat your wife.”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“Because she’d know you. She’d know that when you love, you take your loved one into your heart. She’d know that Eleanor already lives there within you, that you will care for her and put her before you for the rest of your life.” Ben cleared a certain huskiness from his voice. “Hoss, many’s the time that I’ve worried about you, feared that because of your kind nature, someone might take advantage of you. But your mother would know, as I do, that in marriage, you need all that kindness—even when you love someone as you love Eleanor … as I loved your mother. We would both know that you’ll be a good husband.”

“She’d like Ellie, wouldn’t she?”

Ben nodded. “She’d like her very much. Your mother read people better than anyone I’ve ever known. She could tell whether someone had a good heart or not. She gave the weaker ones more chances than they deserved, but she was never fooled about what they were. She just gave them an opportunity to be better.”

Hoss ducked his head and grinned shyly. “She was pretty special, wasn’t she?”

“She was a lot like you, son, so I’d say yes, she was very special.”

Chapter Three

By the time Adam handed Julia, Lily and Michaela down from the surrey at the white clapboard church, the hand-pumped organ had begun to play the prelude which announced that a wedding would be beginning soon. He and Joe conveyed their guests down the aisle to a front pew and then returned to the door to attend to their duties as ushers.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” whispered Michaela, who sat next to Lily.

It was indeed, Lily reflected. The little church was elegant in its simplicity. Its walls were white—the startling, pristine brightness of whitewash—which set off the brass cross and the two modest vases of daisies that decorated the altar. Candles glimmered here and there, and the graceful, stirring notes of the organ lent an aura of purity to the whole setting.

For the first time since her own marriage nearly twenty-four years before, Lily considered how significant a wedding was. She’d attended countless ceremonies since then, but today, with all of her senses on alert, even the smallest details registered. Had she been this sensitive when she’d married Howard Mercer? Probably not. She’d been so in love that she’d seen nothing in the chapel but his face.

And then as if it were again her wedding morning, she recalled her husband, tall and proud in his dress blue uniform. She smiled faintly; the uniform had been nothing short of dashing, cut close at the waist, with its long tails, brass buttons and gold epaulets. She’d been young and much less sure of herself then, and only the strength of Howard’s gaze had gotten her down the aisle. Listening to an old favorite hymn that the organ was playing, she knew a sudden wave of melancholy; he’d been gone three years now and the lyrics of the song, like poetry, came to mind with startling clarity. Time, like an ever-rolling stream, bears all its sons away; they fly, forgotten, as a dream dies at the opening day …

Did real love die? Was the love she’d shared with Howard limited only to the time they’d had with each other? No … it couldn’t be. Certainly not what they had known together. She saw again her husband’s face: kind, loving, inspiring … he’d been her teacher, her confidant, her lover, her friend. Whoever—whatever—she was now was due in large part to him, to his wisdom, to his caring. And she knew that her love for him would never die, not as long as she was able to care for another human being. Howard had taught her how to love, and although he was gone now, he would always live within her. Just, she knew, as Ben’s wives remained a part of him.

She realized then that she was asking herself if the love she shared with Ben would die … or if she would lose him as she’d lost Howard. She waited for the devastation such a thought would bring—but for once, she was visited only with a calm serenity. Whatever the outcome of their lives, she could not run away from Ben Cartwright. She could not give up what they’d found. You might lose the person, she thought, but you never lose the love. The music resonated through her again.

Finally, as the medley of hymns drew to a close and Joe dropped into the pew next to Julia, she realized that the church behind them had filled to capacity. Adam delivered Mrs. Vance across the aisle and then he slipped in by Lily, gripping her hand briefly as he sat down. In a moment she saw why he’d reassured her. Hoss and Ben were just coming through the vestry door. Her pulse quickened.

Ben stood not a dozen feet in front of her, gazing out over the wedding guests, and he looked—incredible. He was dressed all in dark grey, with a shirt the color of snow. His silver hair swept back from his tanned face and his brown eyes, as they looked out over her shoulder, were clear and very happy. And then they focused on her, and with a warm sense of appreciation, she could see the extra spark that suddenly invaded them.

Then Aurora Vance stood up and the organ erupted into the wedding march. Lily rose with everyone else and turned to watch the processional.

Perhaps it was the holy music, or more likely, the radiant happiness of the bride, but the church suddenly seemed alive with beauty. Eleanor was glowing; her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back and dressed with little star tulips, their ivory petals gathered close in a band. Her white gown, Lily thought, was exactly perfect. Like the woman who wore it, it was uncomplicated but not plain, with a long, sweeping skirt and a bodice of simple lace.  She clutched a bouquet of wildflowers.

But if Eleanor looked lovely, it was Hoss who gave the ceremony its hallowed feel. His genial eyes were lit from within, his expression as he watched his bride approach almost  worshipful. Lily couldn’t help squeezing Adam’s hand to make sure that he saw it too.

And then she realized that as she was gazing at Hoss, Ben was watching her and she almost stopped breathing. The music, the sweet scent of the candles, the bride and groom, the friends and neighbors—even Adam and Michaela—seemed to recede into someone else’s life, and all Lily could see was Ben Cartwright. In those eyes I have found my horizon, she thought, and I need no other. Then the organ rose to a crescendo, Eleanor came to a stop beside Hoss, and Ben turned to his son.

It seemed like no time before the vows were being repeated. Eleanor’s face was transformed as she turned to Hoss and the minister intoned, “Wilt thou, Eric, have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

Hoss clasped both of Eleanor’s hands in his. “Yessir, I will.” His voice reverberated through the church.

Then Mr. Culbertson turned to Eleanor. “Wilt thou, Eleanor, have this man …”

Lily felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She could focus only on Ben, on the strong, solid lines of his back and the clearly-sculpted profile of his face. “Wilt thou love him …” Yes.  “Honor and keep him …” Yes.  She was almost light-headed. She swayed slightly and felt Adam’s arm slide around her. “So long as ye both shall live …” And beyond.

First Hoss’ strong voice and then Eleanor’s soft one sounded in the stillness.  “… To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish …”

The words were as soothing as the beautiful hymn had been. Lily felt herself start to relax and realized suddenly that Adam’s arm was still around her. Belatedly, she wondered if she’d made a spectacle of herself and without moving her head, she cast him a quick glance, feeling her cheeks heat. He dropped her a slow wink, a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

And then the Reverend Culbertson, his face a reflection of his pleasure, reclaimed their attention. “You may kiss the bride.”

<<<<<>>>>>

The Ponderosa was dressed in its Sunday best for Hoss and Eleanor’s reception. Overhead, strings of paper lanterns crisscrossed the yard, an atmospheric combination of yellows and reds and oranges among the pines. A dance floor had been constructed in the small corral next to the barn, with a little platform for the assorted musicians rounded up by Jimmie Bellows, otherwise the town’s tobacconist. Tables and chairs dotted the clearing, and on the porch, large, makeshift tables draped in muslin displayed Hop Sing’s elaborate wedding feast.

In the deepening twilight, Ben Cartwright stood to one side, surveying the gathering and glad to go unnoticed if only for a few minutes. Across the yard, his middle son leaned closer to his bride to hear something she was saying, his face serene. Then Adam lifted Michaela high enough to pin a handful of wildflowers on Hoss’ jacket, and the child’s voice carried to him, “But it has to be a bunch! One flower would barely show up on Hoss!” All the trials and heartaches of daily living seemed offset by just one night like this.

And then Lily followed Julia through the front door. Momentarily he lost his breath and stood quietly, just appreciating her, pleasantly aware of the possessive pride that rose in him. He had never seen her look more beautiful; her dress was extraordinary, a rich olive raw silk that appeared to change shades with the light, ranging from almost black to a coppery dark green. Its neckline made up for the afternoon’s sedate outfit, baring her shoulders and skimming low between small sleeves, with a deep red embroidery for accent. For once, he didn’t give a damn what the Virginia City matrons thought of it. He did give a damn, however, that its neckline was liable to attract every man at the party, and he stepped forward to join her, already picturing her on his arm.

What he had not counted on was Louise Calthrop, who swooped in on him like a bird of prey the moment he left the seclusion of the porch.

“I do believe this dance has our name on it,” she trilled, turning him toward the dance floor. Did the woman have no manners at all? But he was well and truly hooked and took his medicine with only passable grace, accompanying her to the floor for the next number.          

Joe, returning from dancing, joined Lily and Julia.

“It’s wonderful!” Julia exclaimed.

“Oh, just wait,” he counseled her. “The best show tonight may be Pa, trying to dodge the Widow Hensley and Eleanor’s aunt.”

“Oh, no!” Julia bubbled with laughter. “How’s he doing?”

Joe pointed to the corral. “It’s not a pretty sight.”

That, Lily thought, was an understatement. An austere blonde, Louise Calthrop might have been attractive had she been the slightest bit cordial. But she was one of those females who became personable only in the pursuit of a man, and tonight, as the night before, she obviously had focused on Ben Cartwright. She appeared spellbound as she hung on his every word.

Belinda Hensley, on the other hand, was a buxom woman of awesome personality. Lily, recognizing her from the Thursday evening political excursion and remembering that she’d liked her then, determined to keep on liking her, even if tonight she might account for some of Ben’s time.

“Ah, yes, you see what you’re up against,” purred a rather mocking voice at her side, and she looked up to find Adam, whose eyes were alight with laughter.

“I see … yes, I do. Do you think he’d kill me if I just left him to his fate?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Well, there’s very little I can do.”

“On the contrary, there’s plenty you can do,” he replied with a roguish wink. “You can start by dancing with me.”

A spark of mischief stirred within her. Across the yard, one number was ending and another was beginning, and as Ben managed to free himself from Louise Calthrop, he was ambushed by Mrs. Hensley. “I’d be delighted.”

It wasn’t, she thought, how she’d expected to spend her evening, but certainly the attentions of Adam Cartwright were sweet consolation for having to watch two other women pursue the man she thought of as hers. She enjoyed the look of surprise and, dare she remark it, annoyance on Ben’s face when he saw her with his son.

Then when the dance ended, Joe cut in and she spun around in a rollicking polka with him, laughing so hard when they finished that he had to steady her as they left the dance platform. Adam and Julia greeted them in the yard, and Adam deftly transferred her hand from his brother’s arm to his own.

“Come on,” he said playfully. “I think I’ve found someone to help you pass the time a little more enjoyably.”

Joe opened his mouth to protest, and then perceiving what Adam had in mind, he snickered. “Older brother, you have a truly diabolical mind.”

“Thank you, younger brother,” Adam rejoined. He escorted Lily across the clearing to where a tall, white-haired man was holding court. “Governor Nye, I’d like you to meet a friend of ours from San Francisco.”

<<<<<>>>>>

It took Ben some time to realize that while Belinda Hensley and Louise Calthrop originally had competed only against each other, Louise was adding a campaign to keep Lily away from him. The few times he’d managed to reach Lily’s side, the relentless Miss Calthrop had descended upon him from nowhere and found an excuse to steer him away. His temper was rising and it wasn’t at all relieved when he observed Lily dancing with Adam or Joe or Jim Nye, her head thrown back with laughter, her shoulders so tantalizingly bare in that amazing gown that he could hardly keep his eyes off of her. Other men were noticing too—she didn’t lack for partners, but it was Nye who eventually led her from the floor and sat down to supper with her.

He could see Miss Calthrop making her way through the crowd toward him again and knew suddenly that he’d reached his limit. It was as good a time as any to get on with the traditional tributes to the bridal couple; he motioned to Hop Sing to strike the dinner gong that hung nearby.

“Friends and neighbors,” he called out when the buzz of conversation had quieted expectantly and everyone had gathered around. He noted that Adam, Julia, Joe and Sara Spencer, whose father owned the Flying J, had closed ranks around the governor and his lady, and he smiled inwardly. It was the perfect excuse to move to that table, as Adam would be the next to speak. He came to a halt behind Lily’s chair. “I believe it’s a best man’s duty and certainly a father’s privilege to toast his son and new daughter-in-law on their wedding day,” he said, “although, I must say, I was beginning to think I’d never get the chance.”

He allowed a grin as everyone laughed. “I’ve often wondered what kind of advice I should give my sons—or whether I’d do best to speak to the women who were courageous enough to marry them. It would be easy with Adam … I could just tell her to read up on her Shakespeare.” His eyes twinkled at his eldest son before he turned to his youngest. “With Joseph, I’d probably say to the girl, ‘Just don’t forget your sense of humor, because life’s certainly not going to be dull.’” The crowd of guests roared appreciatively. “But with Hoss, I was always stumped.”

Ben sobered and the guests felt his subtle shift in mood. “A father likes to be proud of his boys, and I can certainly say that I’m proud of all three of mine. I can also say that I’ve never met anyone that I’ve found to be a kinder soul than my middle son, Hoss. Over the years, my only concern was that he wouldn’t find a woman who understood and valued that.” His eyes came to rest on Eleanor. “If I’d given it the proper thought, I’d have realized long ago that there was really only one woman—that the best choice to be Hoss’ wife was the daughter of one of my dearest friends.”

He lifted his glass to the bride and groom. “To two of the most deserving people I know: Eleanor and Hoss Cartwright, love and a long life together.”

The clearing was filled with the applause of the surrounding crowd. Then the attention of the gathering turned to Adam, who rose from his seat next to Eleanor and regarded his brother with a glimmer of amusement.

“Whenever I think of Hoss getting married, I’m reminded of something that happened when we were children. Not unlike many other times in his life, my brother had found an orphaned animal out somewhere and brought it home. This time it was a young bighorn sheep, a thin little thing that if I remember correctly was mostly all legs and not half as convinced as Hoss was that the Ponderosa was where he needed to grow up. Our father had just remarried then and our new mother was—understandably—not too thrilled about the idea of a bighorn living in the house in front of the fire. Hoss, of course, was sure that this was necessary, as it was early May at the time and it was still chilly.

“So my brother organized his animal infirmary in a shed we had that served as a barn, and I sat up all night with him on sheep watch. Now, usually Hoss didn’t argue too much about what happened to him, but that night, he was furious. He stewed and muttered for hours and finally declared that no matter what he did in life, he certainly wasn’t going to get married.”

The crowd laughed gently and Hoss’ cheeks turned crimson.

Adam looked judicious and impartial, but his eyes gleamed. “Of course I asked him why he was so sure he’d never take a wife and he replied, ‘Because if a wife won’t let you have critters in the living room, it’s not worth it.’”

Such a reaction was so easy to picture that the guests erupted again into laughter. Adam smiled at his brother. “I’m happy to see that over the years, Hoss rethought that resolution. If I’d given it any consideration, I’d have predicted this wedding about four years after he brought home that sheep … when we rode over to Providence Ranch to see the Vances, and found Eleanor nursing a family of orphan squirrels in front of their fire.” Hoss’ arm encircled Eleanor’s shoulders as his brother continued, “And so, Hoss and Eleanor, I wish for you a long and happy life together, filled with love and the friendship of all God’s creatures.”

Once again a round of applause went up, and Ben noted that several of their guests were dabbing at their eyes.

Finally, as the clearing quieted and Adam sat down, Joe rose. He glanced at the party with a mischievous grin.

“Y’know, it’s hard living in this family, where everybody’s such a good talker. I mean—how do you follow my father and brother? All those pretty words …” He winked at Hoss. “So I’ll just say what needs to be said. Eleanor—you’re gettin’ a great guy, and you know it. And I can tell you that Hoss is real aware that he’s gettin’ the finest woman in the territory. Now, there’s only one thing you need to know so this stays a happy marriage; Hoss is a lot simpler than Adam and I are—you won’t have a bit of trouble. Just keep him well fed. That’s it. That’s all. He gets real testy when he’s empty, so just don’t let him get hungry!”

Again the crowd burst into laughter, ending in enthusiastic applause, and when that finally died, Hoss rose.

“Here I am havin’ to foller my family talkin’ … an’ if my lil’ brother was worryin’ about it, you can imagine how I feel. But there’s one thing I’d be happy to talk about, an’ that’s my bride.

“Now, I know that there’re a whole lot o’ you folks here t’night who’re wonderin’ how come y’er celebratin’ my weddin’ and not Joe’s ’r’ Adam’s. I know an’ I’m not offended, ’cause I’ve spent my life growin’ up with these two smoothies and between ’em, they can charm the skin off a snake. So I guess maybe I’m surprised too, but I’ll tell ya what, I ain’t gonna complain about it.

“For some reason I’ll never know, the good Lord decided that he was gonna give me the greatest gift in the world, and that’s Ellie. We been best friends since we was kids, and we’ll be best friends when we’re so old even the ol’ Ponderosa owl don’t recognize us.” He looked down at his new wife fondly. “If I was to have to describe Ellie to ya, I’d just say, take a real good look at Lake Tahoe when the sun rises … or the water falls on the Divide at a time when the light’s comin’ through the spray. Catch a herd o’ deer in the early mornin’, when they’re feedin’ and the babies’re playin’ … or stop and watch the colors on Monument Peak when the sun goes down. They’re all o’ those things miracles o’ God, and so’s Ellie. I reckon I’ll be spendin’ the rest o’ my life just tryin’ to live up to ’er.”

He raised his glass. “So I’d like to ask ya all to drink a toast to my bride and the only woman I know brave enough to have me.”

This time, no one laughed. The entire clearing simply broke into applause, long and sustained and genuine. Ben tried to swallow past the lump which had risen in his throat.

Then the hum of conversation resumed in the crowd, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Louise Calthrop bearing down on him. With the governor’s table already filled, there was no way he could join Lily. Hastily he turned to Eleanor’s mother. “Aurora, may I have this dance?”

Mrs. Vance spotted her sister over his shoulder. “Of course, Ben.” She waited until they were on the floor before adding, “I hope you know that Eleanor and I are both very embarrassed at Louise’s behavior.”

Ben betrayed a smile. “Just be prepared to save me once in a while,” he requested. “And I apologize if that sounds a bit rude, but now that we’re family, I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Aurora laughed. “Ben, I’d forgive you if you were my worst enemy! But we’d better find someone else to save you too, because when this dance ends, I’m sure you’ll be in her sights again.”

Julia was the next to come to his rescue, but after that, he once again was vulnerable to Miss Calthrop. Only the appearance of Judge Henry Perkins and Clementine Hawkins—once known for her stamina in the matrimonial pursuit of Ben Cartwright—saved him, as they issued an invitation to join their party for supper. With the further protection of Tom Culbertson and his wife, Eliza, he was allowed a measure of calm … but he did need to let Lily know how much he wished he could be with her. And so when the musicians next took a break, he stopped Jimmie Bellows as the band leader passed on the way to Hop Sing’s tables. What couldn’t be said privately in words could be said to all in music.

<<<<<>>>>>

Across the clearing, Joe nudged Adam. “Don’t you think we’ve let this go on long enough?”

“I thought it’d gone on long enough before it started,” Adam retorted. “You got any suggestions about how we can get rid of Aunt Louise and Beloved Belinda?”

Joe snorted and then wiped the grin off his face. “You’re not gonna like the only one I have.”

“Try me.”

Joe was right. Adam didn’t like it one bit, but once his younger brother sweetened the plan by exchanging duties, he was game. “You’re serious!” he marveled.

“Of course I’m serious!  Holy crow, Adam, you think I’d do this for anybody but Pa?”

“Keep your voice down!” Adam glanced around to see if they’d been overheard. “No, I just mean—you’re serious.”

Joe nodded mournfully. “Well, aren’t you? I mean, it’s criminal how Louise and the Widow are takin’ up his time. I’d like to quit feelin’ bad about it and just enjoy the party.” He glanced longingly at Sara Spencer.

“Yeah, well, I read you there, brother.”

A few minutes later, as the musicians filed back to the bandstand, Eleanor appeared at Ben’s shoulder. “I wonder if I might steal my father-in-law away for a dance?” she inquired amiably of his table companions. “I promise to take good care of him.”

Even the Widow Hensley and Louise Calthrop hesitated to snatch a gentleman away from the bride, and Ben made it safely to the dance floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that Hoss had invited Lily to dance—and then nearly stopped short in wonder when he saw that Adam was with Belinda Hensley and Joe, looking like a man sentenced to die, was squiring Eleanor’s aunt. There was, blessedly, no chance of their finding some way to cut in. Then the orchestra struck up a waltz and he realized how light and agile his new daughter-in-law was. In fact, for the first time that night, he truly enjoyed a dance.

And then next to him he noticed his middle son. Hoss’s face was a study in inattention, his eyes fixed on a far horizon as if a dancing master had forbidden him to look at his feet. But those blue eyes began to twinkle, and suddenly Ben realized that through no fault of his own, Eleanor was slipping away. It took him a moment to comprehend that at the same time, Lily was being propelled into his arms, looking just as surprised as he was. Hoss’ triumphant grin was the last thing Ben was aware of as his son claimed his new wife.

He flushed with pleasure, holding Lily to him and letting the delight of the occasion wash over him. Her eyes beamed up at him, clearly all the more delighted for being caught so unaware.

“I’ve missed you,” he said under his breath.

“As I’ve missed you,” she replied, squeezing his hand as they whirled to the cadenced melody.

Ben wondered dimly if their contentment radiated off of them—or did everyone else on the floor move about without realizing the perfection of the moment? That was hard to believe. He was sure he looked foolishly happy, and Lily’s dark eyes glowed with an extra depth. It seemed, against his hand, as if her back were just a hair’s-breadth straighter for dancing with him.

Then the music came to an end and in the swirl of dancers preparing for the next number, Ben offered his arm to Lily. He didn’t care how rude he had to be, he was not letting her go.

Almost immediately, he was called upon to be rude. Leaving Joe with barely a thank you, Louise Calthrop appeared before him. “You dance so divinely, Ben Cartwright! I wonder if Mrs. Mercer would mind releasing you so that I might enjoy your abilities?”

Lily’s fingers tightened on Ben’s arm; he wasn’t sure if she was protesting Louise or signaling him to be polite and he didn’t care—although he made a split-second decision that he’d try courtesy first. “I’m afraid Mrs. Mercer has no say in the matter, Louise,” he returned smoothly. “I promised her a walk and I’m sure you’ll agree that a promise shouldn’t be broken.”

Louise smiled stiffly. He knew a momentary twinge of guilt at the lie but he hadn’t a chance to indulge it. Adam appeared at Miss Calthrop’s side to ask her to dance, and with no real sign of grace, she accepted him.

Then the orchestra struck up a tune and Lily’s hand gripped Ben’s arm even before she pulled him around to face her.

“‘George Brabazon,’” she whispered.

He smiled faintly. “Without harps. I’m afraid there aren’t any in Virginia City.”

“The fiddles are lovely,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “It’s so beautiful.”

“If my sons hadn’t taken a hand, I had to find some way to let you know I was thinking of you.” He covered her hand with his.

“Oh, Ben.”

The tears rolled down her cheeks and he realized that the next words out of her mouth would be don’t let me look like a fool; with a suppressed grin, he fished a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.

“And don’t,” he said in a low voice, “tell me you’re looking like a idiot.”

She sent him an exasperated glare as she patted at her face. “I am some kind of idiot! I’m crying at the drop of a hat. Do you think we might go somewhere a little more private? I promise not to attack you—I’d just rather not be right out in public.”

“Your wish is my command,” he said lightly. “But I insist you reconsider on the promise not to attack.”

<<<<<>>>>>

Feeling inordinately virtuous, Joe and Adam congratulated themselves with a surreptitious whiskey after their dancing duties.

“Did you see Louise’s expression when you asked her to dance, brother?” Joe hooted. “I thought she’d kill you!”

“I just thought she was lame from dancing with you,” Adam returned, but they both laughed.

Julia, observing, rolled her eyes. “Boy, am I glad there’re twelve years between you two.”

“Why?” asked Joe innocently.

“Well, for heaven’s sake, it’s perfectly clear that you’d have been a menace if you’d grown up closer together! As it is, you’re both doing wonderful impressions of eight-year-olds.”

“Eight?” he objected. “Why, anyone can see that we’re ten at least.”

“The jury’s still out on that one,” Julia informed him with a chuckle.

“You have to admit—”

“Oh, I’m not complaining! Something had to be done!”

“I hope you’re referring to my insufferable sister,” said a voice from over Julia’s shoulder.

They all swallowed their laughter as Aurora Vance regarded them with interest.

“Aurora—” Adam began.

Her lips quivered. “Insufferable, Adam. I couldn’t support you more—at least, assuming that what I saw was by your design.”<