Give Me Tonight

9

DURING THE NIGHT THE FENCING AROUND THE southeast pasture was destroyed and the line riders near the area attacked by a band of men they couldn't identify. Every strand of wire was cut in several places, every fencepost ripped clear out of the ground. The sound of gunshots was faint but distinct, and the crackling noise awakened Addie and the rest of the Warners. Addie fumbled in her room for a nightgown and robe, sleepy but profoundly grateful that Ben had left her a little while ago. Had he stayed with her just a half-hour longer, he would have been caught in her room. That wasn't something she wanted to explain her way through just yet.

There were exclamations and rapid footsteps up and down the hallway. Addie opened her door cautiously, rubbing her eyes. Russell had already gotten dressed and was heading down the stairs, while Cade emerged from his room with his shirt buttons fastened in the wrong places.'

"What's happening?" Addie asked, and Russell ignored her as he went down the stairs hollering for Ben in a voice that must have carried halfway across the ranch. Cade raked a hand through his hair, causing it to stand up in a light brown shock. He shrugged as he met her eyes.

"Those were gunshots," she said, biting her lower lip. "Weren't they?"

Cade looked eager and worried at the same time. "Betcha it's about the fence." He followed Russell in leaps and bounds, his feet thumping noisily on the stairs. Peter, always a slow riser, appeared at his doorway and followed, while Caroline regarded him with a frown.

"Be careful," she said to her husband, but he seemed not to hear her. After he disappeared through the front door Caro and Addie exchanged a bemused glance. Unspoken thoughts hung in the air as they wondered how serious the trouble was, and what would happen next.

"What time is it?" Caro asked. "I guess about two or three."

"Mama's already in the kitchen making coffee. Help me downstairs, Adeline."

Caro leaned heavily on her arm as they went down the steps, less out of physical necessity than a need for emotional support. Neither of them could think of a thing to say. There was no need to state the obvious. Most probably the trouble involved the Double Bar. The gunshots hadn't been far away, and the family had been expecting an attack of this kind. Men were banding together and cutting fences in a wide sweep through central Texas, either on their own initiative or because they were hired by belligerent ranches. War hadn't been formally declared, but there was no other way to describe the state of affairs between the Warners and the Johnsons.

"I hope it's over," Addie said grimly as Caro made her way down the last two or three steps.

"You hope what's over?"

"The gunfire. Right now they're heading straight for it, Daddy and the rest of them. Men are so foolhardy with guns in their hands. I just hope no one's been hurt. I can't stand the thought of… " She bit her lip and gripped Caro's hand tightly.

"You're thinkin' about Ben, aren't you?"

Addie was too distracted to hide her feelings. "They always depend on him to do everything," she burst out. "Even Daddy-whenever there's any trouble or danger, 'have Ben do it, have Ben take care of it.' Ben has to watch out for everyone else, but who watches out for him? He's only human, he's not indestructible, and I… " She sighed with frustration. "Oh, I don't know-"

"He can take care of himself. Don't worry 'bout him. "

"He'll be the first one to arrive on the scene, riding straight into whatever hornet's nest has been stirred up. Oh, Daddy likes to think of himself as the one in charge, but we all know Ben'll be the one who has to pick up the pieces or make the next move. "

"That's the kind of man he is. Cade and Peter are the kind who have to be guided and prompted. But Ben is someone that others just naturally follow. You wouldn't want him to be any different, would you?"

No. But I don't want to lose him. And there was a fear in Addie's heart that she couldn't explain to anyone. A fear that she had a large price to pay for her past mistakes. Time had given her a chance to atone for the kind of person she had once been. But what if more was going to be demanded of her? What if she was denied the life with Ben she wanted so desperately?

They went to the kitchen and sat at the table with May, who looked calm but fatigued, while outside the house came the sounds of abrupt, sleepy-voiced conversations. The bunkhouse had awakened. Minutes ticked away, then an hour had passed, and as Addie paced around the silent kitchen, tension clawed at her nerves.

"How long do you think they'll be?" she asked curtly, knowing neither of them could answer the question any better titan she could. Still, she had to talk about something or go crazy.

"There's no way of tellin'," May replied, methodically stirring her tea. "Why don't you sit and have somethin' to drink, sugar?"

"It's the Double Bar," Addie muttered, circling the table once again. "Daddy's been expecting them to make a move. Oh, why does he insist on fencing in all the water? It's pure contrariness on his part-"

"Your daddy has the right to do whatever he wants with his own land."

"But he's leaving them with no choice, and I think-"

"It's not up to us to think anything about it, just support your daddy's decisions."

Addie grumbled underneath her breath and darted a glance at Caroline, wondering if she agreed with May. Caro was concentrating intently on her coffee, clearly wanting no part of the debate. There was no way of knowing what her opinion was. Sighing, Addie decided to keep quiet and leave well enough alone. She only hoped that whatever had happened, Russell would control his temper long enough to listen to Ben. Ben didn't like the idea of the fencing any more than she did, and there was no doubt he'd try to soften Russell's reaction to the damage that had been done tonight.

Another half-hour crawled by, and then Addie heard the thud-thud of a horse's hooves. Without a word she darted to the back door of the kitchen and threw it open. Cade had been sent back to tell them what had happened.

"Shootin'," he said, bursting into the kitchen, his eyes brilliant with excitement. "It was the fence all right." He paused and gulped in a few deep breaths. "Hacked to pieces. And our line riders were shot at. "

"By whom?" Addie demanded.

"No one they could recognize."

"The Double Bar. It had to be."

"Yeah, we think they were behind it. But they didn't use their own men. Hired 'em, most likely. We pegged one of 'em, too. Only it was in the back, which don't make us look too good-"

"What do you mean? Someone was shot?"

"It was before Ben and Daddy and us got there. Our line riders had already chased the attackers off, and shot one of 'em in the back. Ben and Peter are takin' the body over to the sheriff."

Addie felt herself tum pale. "But that's dangerous. The men could be hiding near the road somewhere. They might try to shoot Ben for revenge… or…" She glanced at Caroline. "Or Peter…"

"Ben'll keep a sharp eye out," Cade said.

"But it's dark. He… " She bit her lip and kept in words of panic, aware of May's reproving eyes on her. May was far from pleased over her daughter's untoward concern for the foreman.

"Daddy's assigning more of our hands to watch over our property," Cade continued glibly. "Tomorrow they'll start puttin' the fence back up again. 'Course, it'll take away from the other chores that need t' be done around here, 'specially gettin' ready for roundup." He nearly did a dance of glee right in the center of the kitchen. "Daddy says I gotta take off school for a few weeks and help around here. He says there's too much t' be done on the ranch to fool around with books-"

"That's fine," May said evenly. "You'll help your daddy in the daytime and study your books in the evenin'. Adeline and I will help you do your lessons so you won't fall behind."

Cade's grin collapsed. "Aw, Ma-"

"It'll be a long day tomorrow. Go upstairs now and get some sleep."

"Sleep?" he repeated, as if the concept was foreign to him. "After what happened tonight?"

May nodded implacably, and the boy trudged out of the room, his exuberance deflating fast. "You can do the same, Adeline," she said, turning her eyes to her younger daughter. "You won't help anyone by stayin' up."

"I… I can't go to bed." Addie sat down slowly, gripping the sides of her chair as if expecting to be pried forcibly from it. "I'll wait for them to get back." Her anxiousness wore down into numbness as time dragged by. The cup of steaming coffee in front of her gradually turned stone-cold, and she took no notice as Caroline replaced it with a new cup. Then that was cold too, and they still hadn't returned.

There was a sickening plunge in her stomach every time she heard a noise outside, each time she heard a man's voice and knew it wasn't Ben's. Her head dropped to her folded arms on the table and she closed her eyes, waiting, waiting for the footsteps that were different from anyone else's, for the voice that could ease her tension and calm her fears. She felt Caroline's hand on her shoulder.

"I'm going to pour more coffee. I think they're back."

Addie's head jerked up, her eyes fastening on the doorway in a blank stare. Wearily Peter walked into the kitchen and settled his large frame in a chair, accepting the mug Caro handed to him. Russell burst into the kitchen in much the same way Cade had, breathing fire as he started to tell May his version of what had happened. And then Ben closed the door behind him, quiet and calm, his green eyes clear despite the lateness of the hour.

He met Addie's hungry stare with a faint nod, understanding all that she wanted to say but could not. It was the hardest thing she had ever done to sit at the table when all she wanted to do was throw herself at him and snuggle into his arms. Her throat loosened in relief. It seemed as if she had been holding her breath for hours. Her eyes moved over him as she tried to assure herself that he was all right, and she focused on the bloodstains on his shirt. She was shaken by sudden panic.

"Ben, there's blood-"

"One of the fence-cutters was killed," he interrupted, downing half a mug of coffee in one swallow. "Pete and I took the body to town. The sheriff seems to have taken our side in all of this, but the rest of the county is going to be hopping mad-"

"What the hell for?" Russell exploded. "You mean a man can't defend himself and his own property when he's bein' attacked?"

Ben shrugged as he regarded the other man. "You know what the general opinion about your fence is, Russ. On top of that, the first rule of the code is never shoot a man in the back, whether he's law-abiding or a damn horse thief. It just doesn't smell good. "

"The rest of the county had better take a good whiff of it anyway," Russell fired back. "It'll help 'em understand what happens to anyone who lays a goddamn finger on my fence."

"Daddy," Addie broke in, "I know your pride is involved, but there are times when-"

"I'll be damned if! need to start takin' advice from my own daughter," Russell roared.

Addie closed her mouth, sensing the surprise that had flickered through the room, not at Russell's reaction but at her attempt to state an opinion. Disapproval was etched in every face but Ben's, and he was looking at Russell steadily.

"Russ, you know I'll back you no matter what you decide," Ben said, his face inscrutable. "But it's my position to make you aware of all your options." He slid a glance in the direction of the office and looked back at Russell with an arched brow. "Let's go have a drink, hmmn?"

Ben's persuasive tone and the welcome suggestion caused Russell's anger to fade magically. Without hesitation he nodded and preceded Ben out of the room. Ben gave Addie a reassuring glance before following. She felt better immediately, certain that he would prevent Russell from doing anything drastic.

"Peter, aren't you going with them?" Caroline prodded. "You're a member of the family, and-"

"They don't need me," her husband replied, yawnng and standing up. "I'm going to bed."

Caro fell silent and followed him, leaving May and Addie alone in the kitchen.

Addie fidgeted with the sleeves of her robe before making a move to stand up. May stopped her with a single observation.

"Ben's treated more like a member of the family than Pete, isn't he?"

Addie wasn't sure what May was really asking. "I don't know what you mean. Peter's your son-in-law, while Ben's only-"

"Your father couldn't care less about what Pete has to say. He relies on Ben."

"Everyone does, to a certain extent."

"But especially your father. And you."

She was stunned by May's bluntness. "What do you- "

"Is Ben going to be my other son-in-law?" May asked, surprisingly resigned. "I saw the way he looked at you just now. You're two of a kind. I couldn't bear to admit it until now."

"Mama, maybe we should talk about this when you're not so tired."

"I want to hear it from you. It's worse suspectin' and not knowin', Adeline. And there are things that need to be said between us."

"It's hard to tell you how I feel about him when I know how you feel."

"It's not a personal dislike. Lord knows he could charm the birds out of the trees. I just know he's not good for you."

"But he is." Addie leaned forward and spoke swiftly, eagerly. "You don't really know him, Mama, not as he really is."

"He'll be difficult to handle."

"Not for me."

"If you marry him you'll never get away from here."

"I don't want to."

"The two of you are like fire and powder. The explosions might be exciting for now, but you'll never have a moment's peace. Later you'll regret-"

"I'd die if I married a man who wouldn't let me argue with him. We're both strong-willed, but we're learning how to accommodate each other. And he listens to me, Mama, really listens, and respects what I have to say."

"I know. I've heard the two of you. He talks to you as if you're a man. You might enjoy the novelty of that at first, but it's not right for him to treat you as if-"

"Why not? Why not talk to me as if I have a head on my shoulders?"

"He should treat you more gently, instead of tellin' you about men's business and worryin' you with things that don't concern you. You're a woman, Adeline, with your own place and your own concems-"

"And I tell him about those too."

"Oh, good Lord." May leaned her forehead on her palm.

"I know it sounds a little radical, but why do there have to be lines between a husband and wife they aren't allowed to cross? Why the separation and the distance between them? There are things you and Caro and all our women friends tell each other but wouldn't dream of mentioning to your husbands. But a man has a right to know his wife's personal feelings, and-"

"A decent man wouldn't be interested in such things!" May snapped, and Addie quieted, understanding it would distress her mother to hear any more. There was silence between them, and then May spoke wearily. "I guess you plan to marry him."

"Yes."

"I suppose you've taken time to figure out he's after the ranch as much as anything else."

"He'd end up with Sunrise anyway. Daddy's planning to make him trustee in the new will."

"I know. That would put him in charge of the ranch. But by marryin' you, he'll own the biggest piece of it. "

"He would marry me if I were a pauper."

"Are you certain of that?"

"I've never been more certain of anything."

May looked at her daughter's serious eyes and stubbornly set jaw, and her own face wrinkled with unhappiness. It was difficult for her to accept defeat in this, of all things. "You've never looked so much like your father," she said, and left the room.

Addie sat alone, massaging her temples. An abnormal quiet reigned over the house and the ranch, the silence after the storm. She waited until she heard Russell's office door opening and the sound of subdued voices. Warily she crept out of the kitchen and stood in a shadow, watching as Russell went up the stairs to catch an hour of sleep before the beginning of a difficult day. Ben stood at the bottom step, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned to leave. He saw her but made no move as she walked toward him.

"Did he listen?" she asked softly.

"Some." He sighed with a mixture of weariness and worry. "I don't know how much."

She reached up to him and smoothed back a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. "He always respects what you have to say."

As he felt her drawing closer to him and saw the tenderness in her face, Ben froze. He'd never turned to anyone for comfort before. He'd been raised to bear his burdens alone, and he'd always managed to get along just fine without anyone's help. The last thing he needed was a woman's solace. And yet… he had an irresistible urge to pull Addie close and pour out his frustrations to her. Here she was, confronting him, forcing him to include her in his private feelings.

Addie saw the indecision in his face and understood it more than he could have imagined. Until she'd met him, she'd fought to keep the same distance between herself and everything that threatened to come too close. But whether he admitted it or not, he needed her. She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips grazing his unshaven jaw.

"Try to keep me at a distance," she said huskily. "I won't let you."

He was still for a moment, and then he bent his head and kissed her, his hand fitting behind her neck and tilting it back. Addie sighed and gripped his shoulders tightly. Weariness and doubt scattered like leaves before the wind. When he buried his mouth in the curve between her neck and shoulder, she slid her arms around his back and felt the tenseness of his muscles.

"Me the first part of the night, then the fence cutters," she whispered. "You haven't had any rest at all."

"You tired me out a hell of a lot more than the fence-cutters," he muttered, his hands wandering over her slim body.

"Will you be able to get a little sleep?"

"It's only an hour until dawn. Pretty soon I'll have to get the men started, make sure they know what they're supposed to be doing for the day. I might as well stay awake." Taking it for granted that she would stay with him, Ben picked her up and carried her into the dimly lit parlor. As he settled into a slick horsehair sofa, he pulled her into his lap and they shared another smoldering kiss.

"I was worried about you," Addie confessed, pushing past his shirt to lay her cheek against the bare skin of his chest.

"Me?" He strained his fingers through her hair and coiled a lock of it around his hand. "No reason to be, darlin'. The shooting was over long before I arrived on the scene. "

"When I heard you were taking the body to town, I was afraid someone would take a shot at you."

Ben half-smiled for the first time, turning his face down until their noses touched. "I think I like having someone worry over me."

"You're not the only one I'm worried about." He sobered instantly. "Russ."

"I don't like the position he's put himself in."

"I admit he'll have to be careful from now on, but I don't think there's as much cause for concern as you seem to-"

"I think it's more serious than that," she said earnestly. "It's obvious he'll fight until his last breath to keep the fence up. If you were the Johnsons, or any of the other people who are losing money and property because of it, wouldn't you think the only thing to do is get him out of the way permanently?"

Ben stared at her silently, denial hovering on his lips.

"He's in danger," she said. "I know it."

"I'll talk to him."

"He has to be protected." Though she tried to sound matter-of-fact, her voice was strained. "Maybe I sound overdramatic, but I'm not certain he's safe in the house."

"Addie, don't start borrowing trouble when-"

"Would you think about having someone watch the house at night? Please."

"Are you serious?" Ben shook his head in bemusement. "Honey, no one would get past the line riders on the border of the property. And even if someone did manage that, do you actually think he'd have the balls to sneak into the house? And if he got that far, how's he supposed to find the room Russ sleeps in? And if-"

"What if it was someone who knew the ranch well?"

"If you're going to spend your time worrying, there are plenty of more likely things to worry about."

"Please." Unconsciously Addie clutched handfuls of his shirt. "Have someone watch the house every night." She searched for the right words to say, something that would make him agree. "Please… I'm afraid."

Her last words affected him visibly. "Addie," he said, cradling her face in his hands, his eyes searching, "have you seen or heard something?"

"Not exactly. "

"I can't help unless you tell me."

Tell you what? That I lived in the future for twenty years and found out how my father was murdered? Oh, and not only that, but I helped plan it, although I don't happen to remember what the plan was. And by the way, if I hadn't fallen in love with you, I'd still consider you a suspect, and probably would anyway if I didn't know how much you care for Russell. Just how am I supposed to tell you all that?

"Just do as I ask," she begged. "And don't let Daddy know, or he'll put a stop to it. He thinks he can protect himself."

"Don't know why he'd think that. He's only lived thirty years on the range with hardly a scratch on him."

"Are you going to post a man outside the house?" She frowned until he nodded reluctantly. "Is that a promise? You aren't just telling me that to keep me quiet?"

Ben stared her down, his voice ominously soft. "I'd never lie to you, Adeline."

"I didn't mean to imply that. I'm just-"

"Afraid," he murmured, stroking the side of her face with a fingertip. Despite the gentleness of his touch, she shivered with apprehension.

"You're angry."

"I'd wring your little neck if I thought I'd find out what's happened to make you feel this way."

"It's not important."

"It is to me."

"I'm just concerned about Daddy, that's all. And now that I know someone will watch the house, I feel much better."

But Ben wasn't placated, and he continued to scowl, even as she decorated his face with invisible kisses.

"That's not helping, Adeline."

Addie stopped and looked at him, aware that her attempt at playfulness had fallen flat. She was still afraid and they both knew it. Time was drawing nearer, bringing with it an unavoidable sense of doom. She was frightened for Russell, and for Ben. He'd been blamed for Russell's murder before: he'd fled Sunrise and wandered for fifty years. She'd seen him, a pathetic old man without a home. The opposite of everything he was now. The image was dim, but still it lingered in the back of her mind, haunting her.

"Hold me," she finally said, feeling wretchedly guilty, and his arms drew around her. His voice was rough and caressing at the same time.

"Little fool. Do you think I'm going to let anything happen to you? Keep your secrets for now. But this is the last time I'll stand by and wring my hands over another of your little mysteries. There's going to come a time when I start asking questions, Addie, and I'll expect some answers. And God help you then if you try to sweet-talk me out of it. Understand?" Ben waited until he felt her nod against his chest. Then he pressed his lips against her hair. "Don't be afraid. Everything's going to be fine. You know I'll take care of you."

As she clung to him, the dread and guilt disappeared. Warmth stole through her with a penetrating glow. She luxuriated in the protection of his body, melting with pleasure as his hands moved over her back. As long as she was in his arms, he could keep her safe from anything. If only he would hold her forever. She longed to tell him what she was truly afraid of, but there was no way she could, unless it was indirectly.

"Ben? If you cared about a person and then found out he'd done some bad things in the past, would it change your feelings about him?"

"It depends," Ben said thoughtfully. His hands stopped in mid-motion, then resumed their stroking. "I suppose it would depend on what he did. If it was bad enough… yes, it would change how I felt about him."

"But what if he'd changed and was truly sorry about what he'd done?"

"I'm not one to judge. You're talking to a former mavericker, remember?"

"Is mavericking the worst thing you've ever done?" Ben smiled slightly. "Oh, I'll admit to worse if I have to. Anyone who knew me before I came to Texas would tell you I had a misspent youth."

"Are you sorry now for the things you did back then?"

"I rarely bother thinking about the past. And no, I don't waste time regretting things. I've paid for my worst mistakes two or three times over." He noticed the hollow at the base of her throat, revealed by the parted edged of her robe, and ducked his head to nibble at the delicate spot.

"Why the sudden interest in sin and atonement?" he asked, his voice muffled. "Remembering some schoolroom prank you never got caught for? You hid the teacher's chalk, I'll bet. Or whispered with your friends in the middle of geography-"

"Never," she said, relieved at the change of subject. She let her head fall to his shoulder, enjoying the plundering of his mouth. "I was always well behaved."

Deftly he unfastened the tiny buttons at the throat of her nightgown, one by one, moving down to her breasts. "I've heard differently, Adeline."

"Don't believe a word of it. And besides, you were probably no angel either."

Ben grinned. "I was always getting suspended."

"Troublemaker."

"Mmn-hmn. Once I hid a snake in Mary Ashburn's desk." He chuckled lazily. "She pulled it out when she reached for her pencil "

"How mean!"

"Just-a little garden snake. Hardly worth all that screaming. "

"Why did you do it?"

"Because I liked her."

"Your courting has improved."

"Practice," he said, his hand slipping underneath the folds of her nightgown, and she grabbed at it to stop his explorations.

"With many women?"

"Not as many as you seem to suspect. Haven't we talked about this before?"

"You said you'd tell me sometime about why you're so liberal in your ideas about women. About the one that had such an effect on you-"

"What makes you so sure it was one woman?"

"Intuition. Was it someone you were in love with?"

"In a way."

"Did you think about marrying her?"

Ben's face changed, and he looked uncomfortable, wary, perhaps a little bitter. "Addie, I'm not ready to talk about it."

"She hurt you, didn't she?"

Despite his irritation, Ben laughed ruefully at her persistence. And her accuracy. "Why is it so important?"

"I know hardly anything about your past. There's so much about you I don't understand, and it bothers me that you know so much more about me than I do about you. You're a puzzle. Why are you the way you are, and why-"

"Whoa. Before I explain anything. I'd like to point out I sure as hell don't understand everything about you. "

"Was she important to you?" Addie asked, ignoring his attempt to sidetrack her.

"At the time, I thought she was everything." Ben rested his head on the back of the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. "Have you ever wanted something so much you would have gone to hell and back to get it? And once you had it, the tighter you tried to hold on, the less of a grip you had? She was like that. I'd never met anyone so elusive. The more distant she was, the more I wanted her. "

Addie was surprised to feel a stab of jealousy. Suddenly she wasn't certain she wanted to hear about his desire for another woman, but at the same time she burned to know about the mysterious past he talked so little about.

"Who was she?"

"The daughter of one of my professors at Harvard. Her father was one of the most brilliant men I'd ever met. Very New England-aloof, intelligent, dynamic. Sometimes when he spoke, his words just burned through your mind-God, the things he said were radical. Startling. There was a lot of that in his daughter, the same brilliance, the same intelligence. I'd never heard a woman talk like she did. He'd let her study the same things his students did, let her say and do anything she wanted. She was smarter than most of the men I knew-a woman with an education. Having been raised in a small town near Chicago where they'd barely heard of such a thing, I was fascinated."

"Was she beautiful?"

"Very."

Addie's jealousy doubled. Beautiful, intelligent, fascinating. "She sounds perfect," she said tonelessly.

"I thought so for a while. It was maddening, never knowing where I stood with her. One minute sugar wouldn't melt in her mouth, and the next she'd fly into a rage for no reason. Sometimes she was just plain crazy, taking chances, dragging me into wild adventures. I was either deliriously happy or miserable around her."

"Why was she so wild?"

Ben's gaze was distant, as if he were concentrating on elusive images. "There was no place for her. She'd been given the opportunity to become exotic… different… and then everyone kept trying to put her in a place she didn't belong. Including me. She was a bird in a cage, flying against the bars over and over again. I wondered why she couldn't act more like other women, why she wanted to talk about things that only men… " He paused and looked at her, his eyes unreadable. "You should understand."

Addie nodded imperceptibly.

"But she didn't have your strength," Ben continued. "She had no hope of finding a way to fit in. I watched her suffocating, and I didn't understand why. I thought the only way to help her was to try to change her. The tighter I held on, the worse it was. I loved her, and she felt the same about me. But everything I wanted from her-marriage, a child, a life together-all of that would have been a prison. She wanted no part of it. "

Ben took a deep breath and let it out slowly, amazed at the sudden lightness in his chest. It was the first time he'd ever talked about that part of his past. He hadn't planned to tell Addie, but now it made sense to unburden himself to her. Who else was capable of understanding? Who else could begin to know the kind of struggle it had been?

"How did it end?"

"She… " Ben cleared his throat and stopped. He couldn't get the words out. Addie said nothing, waiting patiently, although inside she wanted to scream with the need to know. "She found out she was going to have a child," he muttered, his eyes flashing with guilt and remembered pain. "My child. I insisted we would get married. It was only a few weeks until graduation, and I already had plans to go back to Illinois and get a job at my father's bank. She was miserable, I was thrilled. I wanted the baby. I wanted her. And the day after she told me, she nearly killed herself having the child aborted. When I found out what she'd done, I wished she had died along with the baby. I never saw her again."

Addie's heart was filled with compassion. "How did you manage to get through the rest of the semester?"

"Money in the right pockets. My father was determined to have his son graduate from Harvard. No price was too high to pay. I didn't care one way or the other. I was numb."

"I'm so sorry about what she did," Addie murmured. "About the baby."

"Part of it was my fault. I would have used the baby as a chain and manacle to keep her with me-"

"No. She should have talked to you about it. You would have helped her find a way to deal with it. She should have trusted you. You would have listened to her."

"No. I was different then."

"Not that different. Nothing will make me believe you would have ignored a plea for understanding. You wouldn't have made her life a prison."

"How can you be so sure?" he asked gruffly.

"Because I know you. Because my heart tells me so."

He turned his face away. Addie sat in his lap, trying to read his silence. Suddenly he drew his sleeve across his eyes, blotting an unfamiliar dampness, and she wound her arms around his neck, holding him fiercely. She had to convince him she wouldn't become like the other woman he'd loved, her spirit crushed by a disapproving world.

"I'm not like, Ben."

"In some ways you are."

"Well, of course I hate not being able to say what I want or to do what I want, just because I'm a woman. But I'm not a bird in a cage. And I want to belong to you."

"I don't want to trap you-"

"I'm more afraid of being alone. Don't you see I have more freedom with you than without you?"

His hands bracketed her shoulders as he looked at her intently. The combination of innocence and experience in her face had never been so pronounced. He saw the eagerness of a child, the passionate love of a woman, and a depth of understanding that belonged to someone twice her age.

"God, I'll never let you go, Addie."

"I know that."

"And I won't try to change you."

"I wouldn't let you."

"No, you wouldn't," he said, and relaxed slightly. "You're quite a woman, Adeline Warner."

"Too much for you to handle?" she asked, her voice soft and teasing. Suddenly she found herself fiat on her back, smiling as she stared up at him. His eyes warmed with desire.

"Not by a long shot," he said, proceeding to demonstrate in a way that left no doubt in her mind.

The agreements Ben and Russell had made in private about how to handle the crisis were never detailed to the family, but some things were very clear. Most important, the fence was going back up. Second, Russell had decided to restrain himself from riding roughshod over the ranch, the Warner family, and the cowboys, contrary to what they had expected. He stayed in the office and kept his distance from the ruins of his fence, while Ben supervised the Construction of extra line shacks, doubled the number of riders who protected the Sunrise borders at night, and appointed men to hammer new fence posts into the ground.

Barrels of precious water were used to soften the ground in order to dig holes for the posts, an outrage to those whose herds of cattle were parched and thirsty. May, Caroline, Addie, and even Leah were kept busy doctoring the gouges and scratches that the barbed wire left on the arms of the men who were engaged in constructing the new fence. After a few days Addie showed Ben ruefully that her fingers were permanently stained brownish-red from handling countless bottles of iodine.

The reactions of the town and neighboring ranches to the attack on Russell's property were mixed. Some cattlemen who had been entertaining the idea of closing in their own land with cheap, durable barbed-wire fencing were- as outraged as if they had been victimized along with Russell. But some people said it was just what Russell deserved. Many cowboys hated the idea of fencing over the range they were accustomed to riding so freely. Small cowmen who often gleaned mavericks from the cattle drifting across the boundaries of their own properties resented the fence too.

As day after day passed by, Addie began to miss Ben acutely. She hardly ever saw him. He was busy dealing with all the problems that were brought to him, no matter how large or small. His work was unending as he supervised the building of the fence and coordinated the other chores done around the ranch. With the constant traffic in and around the house, there was no opportunity for him to come to Addie's room. A man had been appointed to watch over the house at night, the final guarantee that her trysts with Ben were over for a while.

Addie was consumed by frustration, emotional and physical, and it wouldn't be eased until she had Ben to herself again. She lay sprawled in her bed at night, arms and legs outflung as she thought moodily about the times he had visited her. How was it possible to want someone so much? The moments when she did see him weren't enough-there were always family members or ranch hands around, and no chance for any kind of privacy.

How long was she going to last without him? Her need of him grew stronger every minute, until she could hardly bear it when he was near. How strange it was to hunger and thirst for someone so badly, to resent everything that took him away from her. He had awakened needs in her, strong needs that must be assuaged. She'd had so few nights with him, but for the rest of her life, every night without him would be cold and empty. Looking around the table, she wondered if any of them would have understood how she felt. No, none of them, not even lonely, sensitive Caroline.

I 'd go to any lengths to keep him. None of them have ever fought for each other. But they must have felt something once. They must have. Caroline and Peter acted like distant acquaintances, while May and Russell were wearily affectionate at best. No passion, no tenderness. Not even anger. What do they talk about when they're alone? Or is there just silence?

Addie missed the long, cozy talks with Ben the most. In the darkest hours of the night she had told him some of the scandalously intimate things that even wives weren't supposed to tell their husbands. Conversations with Ben had been a source of endless fascination, since there was almost no subject he was unwilling to discuss, and he never bothered to spare het modesty. He seemed to enjoy making her blush, and he could always tell when he'd succeeded, even in the dark.

After a week of being apart from him, she began to notice that Ben was changing in subtle ways. His easy manner had disappeared and his sense of humor was more biting than usual. He was always tense and short tempered around her, and he made an effort to avoid her company. Why was he so brusque and abrupt? Why did it seem as if he were angry with her?

Every time she heard him walk into the house at dinnertime, saw him enter the room, watched him as he sat down at the table, there was an ache in the pit of her stomach. The extra time he spent in the sun was darkening his skin to a new swarthy shade, making his eyes glow like emeralds. He had never been so handsome, so unreachable. Why was it that as she looked at him across the expanse of the dining-room table, the distance seemed to turn into miles?

Addie poker her head around Caroline's door, her brow creasing with a frown as she saw the shades pulled down over the morning light and the small bulky figure huddled underneath the covers.

"Caro?" she said softly, and her sister stirred. "You don't feel like getting up yet?"

Caroline shook her head, looking annoyed. Her face was bloated from gaining a surprising amount of weight in a short time, and her eyes were underlined with puffy bags. "No. I feel sick. I'm tired."

"Has Dr. Haskin-"

"He says there's nothin' wrong with me."

"Well, that's wonderful-"

"Oh, don't sound so cheerful."

"Why don't I get you some tea? And I'll read you the story from yesterday's newspaper about -"

"No. Thank you, but I don't feel like drinkin' anything or listenin' to anything."

Slowly Addie walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, covering Caro's limp hand with her own. "What's wrong?" she asked gently.

The sympathy seemed to be Caroline's undoing. Her eyes filled with tears. "I feel so fat and awful and mean-tempered. And I'm losing my hair. Can't you see how thin and stringy it is? I used to have such pretty hair. "

"It's still pretty. If you have lost some, it's certainly not enough for anyone to notice, and it'll grow back just as soon as the baby's born."

"A-and Peter never wants to talk to me anymore, or hold me-"

"He doesn't know what you want from him. Tell him what you need."

"I want h-him to know without askin'."

"Men don't always understand what to do. Sometimes you have to tell them."

Caroline gave a watery sigh and wiped her eyes with a comer of the sheet. "This momin' Leah came into my room and started bouncin' on the bed. I was sharp with her, and she doesn't understand why-"

"I'll see to her. Cade and I will take her to town.

Yesterday she wanted some material to make her doll some dresses, and we don't have enough scraps here. We'll get her a length of cotton, and maybe some candy. "

"Would you? Oh, she'll like that."

"What about you?" Addie asked, gently teasing. "Peppermint or licorice?"

"Nothing," Caro said, suddenly looking happier. Despite her pregnancy, she looked like a little girl with her tearstained face and plump cheeks. Addie felt a pang of love for her, wishing she knew how to make everything magically right for Caro.

"Tonight when I get back, we'll wash your hair. That'll make you feel better. And I'll tell Ben to play some music in the parlor after dinner, especially that song you always like to hear. "

"But Ben is so busy-"

"He'll find the time," Addie assured her, and grinned impishly. "If I ask."

Caroline brightened, looking at her expectantly. "How are things between the two of you?"

Addie leaned closer, her brown eyes dancing with excitement. "He loves me," she whispered.

"Oh, Adeline-"

"I never dreamed I could be so happy. I'm so much in love it hurts."

"I'm so glad for you." Caroline gripped her hand.

"Don't let him go. Don't let anything come between you."

"No, never." Addie flashed her a grin and squeezed Caro's hand before letting go and leaving the room. "Leah! Leah, where are you? You and I are going to town. Come help me look for Cade. "

Leah's pigtails flew behind her as she raced down the stairs ahead of Addie, her voice shrill as she called for Cade. Addie followed her out to the front porch, where they found Cade reclining lazily on the steps with Diaz. Diaz was in the middle of one of his improbable adventure stories. He stopped his narrative and looked up as he saw them, his wizened face creasing with a smile.

Addie returned the smile hesitantly, suddenly aware of how many times she'd walked by him without a thought as he sat on this very porch. Accustomed to his presence there, she had given him as little notice as she gave the porch railing or the wooden boards under her feet. Every now and then they had exchanged a word, but she had never again sought out his company after the strange, almost nonsensical conversation they'd once had. It was rare that Addie let herself think about it, and everything she had once considered asking him or talking to him about had faded into the most distant part of her memory. He was just there, ever-present, contemplative.

"Cade, you have to take Adeline an' me to town," Leah burst out, reaching out to yank at his hand.

Cade smiled at her excitement, resisting her efforts to pull him to his feet. "Who says I have to?"

"Don't tease," Addie said, hooking her fingers into his shirt collar and tugging lightly. He-made a gagging noise and stood up.

"Guess you'll have t' finish the story later," he said to Diaz, shoving his hands into his pockets and shrugging good-naturedly. "Otherwise Adeline'll strangulate me. You aren't gonna leave before tonight, are you?"

"Tomorrow mornin'," Diaz said, and Addie's eyes widened in astonishment.

"Leave? What do you mean? Where are you going? Why-"

"I never stay too long in one place, or with one outfit." Diaz smiled at her in a kindly way and lifted his stocky shoulders as if to indicate it was something beyond his control.

"But what will you do?"

"Lotta herds gonna be driven north soon. Always room for a good talespinner on the trail."

Addie was speechless. She didn't want him to leave.

But she couldn't explain the feeling, not to him and not even to herself. There was no practical reason for wanting him to stay at Sunrise. She hardly knew him, hardly ever spoke to him. He was just as he described himself, a talespinner. He'd done nothing for her except throw out a few half-baked ideas one night that had struck her fancy. Some of the odd things he'd said. about going back in time, about redemption, had frightened her with their accuracy. Maybe it had just been a lucky choice of words. And maybe not.

"There's something I must know," she said hesitantly. "Mr. Diaz-"

"Adeline," Cade interrupted, chuckling as Leah nearly sent him tumbling down the steps with her eagerness to leave, "he just said he'll be here tonight. If you want to go to town, quit talkin' and come on. "

Addie scowled at her brother and then raised her eyes heavenward. "Later, Mr. Diaz?"

"Later," he agreed placidly, and she smiled at him before following Cade and Leah.

After they had reached town and Cade helped them down from the buggy, Addie and Leah headed for the General Store. Cade went further down the street to see if Ben was visiting with the sheriff as he had intended. Nowadays Ben made it a habit to keep the sheriff informed of every incident of friction that involved the Sunrise Ranch, doing what he could to keep him on their side. Not that the scanty forces that passed for law and order here could do much for them. In this part of Texas, you had to look after yourself and your own business, and you were in big trouble if you had to rely too much on someone else's protection. But Ben intended to maintain some appearance of respectability for the ranch, and having the sheriff's cautious support was better than his disapproval.

After buying a yard of checked gingham and a bulging parcel of candy, Addie walked Leah across the street toward the buggy. Leah's sugar-sticky hand caught at hers, and Addie grinned as they swung arms together companionably.

"Wanna lemon drop?" Leah asked with perfect politeness.

"No, thank you."

"Molasses cane?"

"Honey, if I'd wanted any, I would've gotten some for myself. But it's nice of you to want to share."

"Aunt Adeline?"

"What?"

"Why does Ben call you Addie? No one else does." She nearly jumped at hearing Addie spoken in Leah's voice. It reminded her of the older Leah, and all the times she had heard her name spoken with just that inflection. "It's just a nickname," she said, trying to calm the thump-thump of her heart. "You can call me that if you want."

"Aunt Addie," Leah said experimentally, and giggled.

She couldn't help laughing. "So you think it sounds funny, do you?"

"Uh-huh." Leah pulled out a licorice strap and began chewing the end. "Aunt Addie, is Mama gonna have that baby soon?"

"Kind of soon. There's still about two months to go."

"Oh." Leah's face wrinkled in discontentment, and she bit clean through the licorice before chewing noisily.

Addie eyed her thoughtfully. Was that why Leah had been so cranky lately? Because she was jealous of the baby? Of course… Leah had always been the baby ofthe family, and she didn't want to give that place to someone else.

"Want to know something? You're ten years older than this baby, the same age your mother was when I was born." Leah looked at her silently, one cheek bulging with candy. "When I was little," Addie continued, "she had to show me so many things-why, I tried to do everything just like she did. I followed her everywhere. She would tell me stories, and brush my hair, and she even helped me get dressed in the morning. I thought she was the best older sister there ever was." Strictly speaking, Addie couldn't remember much about her relationship with Caroline. But Leah didn't have to know that.

Leah seemed fascinated. "Will I do things like that for the baby?"

"Well, I know she-or he-will probably depend on you like I did your mother."

Satisfied by the little girl's intrigued expression, Addie let the subject drop and smiled as they reached the other side of the street. Suddenly Leah's hand went lax in her grip, and Addie looked down at her. The child's face was pale, her eyes as round as saucers.

"What is it? What-"

"Adeline," a quiet voice interrupted, and she looked up into Jeff Johnson's intense blue eyes.