Give Me Tonight

11

THEY GAVE CAROLINE ENOUGH LAUDANUM TO TAKE the edge off the pain, but she still knew what was happening. The past months of discomfort, joy, and anticipation were coming to an abrupt end. Addie knew Caro's physical pain hardly compared to the emotional anguish of knowing she was losing the baby. It took Peter almost four hours to find Dr. Haskin, who was on another call, and bring him to the ranch. Addie suffered every minute of that time, silently cursing the doctor for not being there.

May sat by the bedside, calm but a little blank, slow to answer questions or to say anything at all. Instinctively Caroline turned to Addie for help, clutching her hand when in pain, asking her to talk when she needed distraction. Addie worked ceaselessly to keep her as comfortable as possible, bathing the sweat off her face, rearranging the mountain of pillows when Caroline's back hurt, changing the towels they had placed underneath her hips.

Addie was only dimly conscious of what was going on outside the small room. She was aware that long ago the sheriff had arrived and Ben had taken him up to Russell's room, that there were strangers' feet walking up and down the stairs, and men's voices outside as the ranch was awakened by the news of Russell Warner's murder.

Finally Cade knocked on the door to signal that the doctor had arrived. Wearily Addie went downstairs to meet him, heedless of the blood on her dress or her straggling, hastily tied-back hair. She started in astonishment at the sight of Doc Haskin. She'd been expecting an old man with a shock of silver hair, crinkly eyes, and a weather-lined face. Slim shoulders, slightly 'stooped. A man who shuffled slightly when he walked. That was the Doc Haskin she had known all her life.

The man in front of her was young, well-built, and dark-haired, probably only a year or two older than Caroline. His face was strong, his gaze clear and direct. but he had the same shaggy eyebrows as the old Dr. Haskin she'd known, and the same comforting smile. She half-expected him to ask after Aunt Leah's health, before she remembered Leah wasn't her aunt anymore.

"D-Doc Haskin," she stammered, and he smiled briefly at her as they started up the stairs.

"It's been a long time since I've seen you, Miss Adeline. A year or two, at least. "

Try fifty, she wanted to say, but held her tongue. "Pete couldn't tell me much about your sister," he continued, and he was so blessedly calm she wanted to weep in relief at having someone there who knew what to do. "Has she gone into labor?"

"She's had the baby," Addie blurted out. "Stillborn. But no afterbirth."

"Has she retained all of it or just part?"

"I think all of it," she said, grasping the stair railing as she felt herself sway. Doc Haskin's steadying hand was on her shoulder.

"Why don't you go somewhere and rest?" he suggested gently. "I'll take care of her now."

Would it be deserting Caroline, not to go back to that room? Addie hesitated, her forehead creased with misery. She couldn't go back and face May's blank eyes any longer, or Caroline's suffering. She had to be somewhere quiet for a few minutes or go insane.

"Maybe I will rest a little while," she whispered. "Please see to Mama too. I'm worried about her."

"I will. And Miss Adeline… I'm sorry about your father."

Slowly Addie went down the steps, keeping hold of the railing. The sense of being small and ineffectual came over her, and she was too tired to fight it. A thirst welled up from inside, a desperate need to see Ben. He would hold her in his arms and let her lean on him as long as she needed. Only he could assure her that the world hadn't gone mad.

There was a murmur of voices from Russell's office.

Silently Addie drew closer to the half-closed door, her ears pricking at the mention of Russell's name. The voices belonged to Ben and Sam Dary, the sheriff, and one or two others she couldn't identify.

"… I agree," Ben was saying, his voice weary.

"No horse was used. Whoever did it was on foot, and possibly still is-"

"We have a coupla men out lookin'. He couldna gotten far. If he ain't in the bunkhouse. Most likely we're lookin' for one of your own, Ben."

"The boys swear they didn't notice anyone coming or going out all night. And we've got a lot of light sleepers in there."

"Robbie Keir swears he didn't see who hit him. You got any idea?"

"No. I was hit from behind as I went in the house."

"That is a puzzle," Dary murmured. "Someone who knew his way around the ranch, even the main house."

"It's possible it was someone who-

"Ben," Dary interrupted, and this time his voice was quieter, "it's time to git down to business. M' boys found some evidence in your cabin and in Mr. Warner's room. It's all pointin' in one direction."

"And what direction is that?" Ben asked softly. "Seems t' me you're hidin' somethin', Ben."

"The hell I am. I've given you the go-ahead to search the whole goddamn ranch, including the bunkhouse and my cabin. You're welcome to make use of anything you find."

"Then what d' you have t' ay 'bout Russ bein' strangled with one of the strings from your guitar?"

"What?" Ben sounded stunned.

"Yessir, it was a guitar string, an' it matches up with one rnissin' from the one in your cabin."

Addie could stand it no longer. She strode into the room. Ben was facing a half-circle formed by the sheriff and two other men. In two steps she reached Ben's side.

"That proves nothing," she said hotly. "Anyone could have taken it from his room. People swarm all over this ranch from sunup to sundown."

Ben stared down at her with silent warning. His expression was implacable, but his face was pale under his tan, the only indication of how the news had affected him. None of the rest moved or spoke, astonished by her interruption, appalled by her audacity in interfering with men's business. Sam Dary gathered his wits and made an effort to smile at her.

"Miss Adeline, we're all real sorry 'bout what happened to your pa. But we're fixin' to git to the bottom of all this, soon as we can. Now, why don't you run along an' don't worry your little head 'bout-"

"My head isn't little, and neither is my mind. And I have a valid interest in all this, considering the fact that it was my father who was murdered, and my fiance you're trying to-"

"Adeline," Ben said, his hand closing around her upper arm in a biting grip that belied his pleasant tone.

"The sheriff is only trying to get at the truth. We have no quarrel with that, do we?"

"But-" she started, and fell silent as his eyes flashed dangerously.

"Ben," Dary said, sounding almost apologetic, "she don't need to be here. Would you tell her to-"

"She won't be a problem." Ben gave Addie a meaningful glance. "In fact, you won't make another sound, will you, honey?"

"No," she said with sudden meekness, willing to promise anything as long as she was allowed to stay.

"Go on," Ben said calmly, turning to the sheriff.

"Just pretend she isn't here."

"Well, ah… well… oh, yes… " Dary fished in his pocket and pulled out a small pouch, opened it, and shook the contents into his palm. Addie drew closer, peering at the small object that had rolled out. It was a small, distinctively shaped shirt button, dull gray and metallic. A tiny pattern of scrolls was engraved on the steel surface.

"It's a button from one of my shirts," Ben said quietly.

"You sure?" Dary asked.

"I'm sure. They come from a small place in Chicago, where I had some shirts made a couple of years ago."

"It was found on the floor, right by the… " Dary paused and looked at Addie before finishing. "… by the bed. One of the shirts in your cabin was missin' a button, and the rest of 'ern were just this kind."

"He's being framed," Addie burst out. "Someone could have taken the button and put it by Russell to make it look like Ben-"

"Addie," Ben interrupted, and despite the seriousness of the situation, his mouth twitched with a faint smile. Although Addie had given a promise to keep quiet, there'd been no doubt in his mind she would break it.

"They know you're too smart to leave incriminating evidence behind," she persisted. "Especially your own guitar string! And how do they explain that lump on your head? Someone hit you pretty hard. They certainly can't think you did that to yourself. And besides, I heard someone leaving the house the moment I found Ben. Check around back-I know you'll find footprints there, and-"

"Possible he had a partner who turned on him," Dary commented laconically.

"That's absurd!" Addie exploded, and prepared to say more, but Ben interrupted her.

"One more word of your defense, darlin', and they'll probably take me out and hang me on the nearest tree. Why don't you go make some coffee?"

"I'm not leaving you," she said stubbornly.

"No need," Dary said, his forehead divided with a grave frown. "Only one more question, Ben. If the man who murdered Russ Warner was so quiet the folks in the house didn't wake up, how'd you know somethin' was wrong?"

Ben looked at him expressionlessly. "I had a feeling."

Addie trembled, wanting to cry out and defend him. It was me. I told him!

"Any way you c'n prove you were in your cabin at the time Russ was killed?"

"Yes," Addie said swiftly, knowing Ben would not implicate her even if it meant hanging for.it, She was the only one who could provide him with an alibi. "Just ask me. I was in his cabin with him. All night."

Dary turned crimson, looking away from her. Addie kept her eyes steadily on him, ignoring Ben's hard stare. Dary seemed to be choking with embarrassment. Finally he looked at Ben. "That true, Ben?"

"Tell him the truth, Ben," Addie said.

Ben's green eyes snapped with anger. "Keep it under your hats, if at all possible," he said, his mouth twisting. "I don't want her reputation dragged through the mud."

But they all knew it was too late for that. The whole town would be delighted and scandalized by the story. Russell Warner, strangled in his own bed while his daughter slept with the foreman. There was no way anyone could keep that under his hat for long.

There wasn't reason for the sheriff and his men to stay after that. Ben saw them to the door and went back into the office, where Addie had found a bottle of whiskey and a glass.

"Don't stop pouring," Ben said, and she smiled wanly.

"There's only one glass." She took a swallow and handed the glass to Ben with a gasp as the whiskey seared the inside of her throat. He lifted it to his lips and followed suit. After a moment he sighed, closing his eyes.

"I could've used this a few hours ago."

"Is it going to help?" she asked dully, and took back the glass before he could answer.

"How's Caroline?"

She took a deeper swallow of the liquor this time.

"I'm not sure."

"The baby?"

"Dead." Addie stared into the whiskey, her fingertips whitening. "The baby wasn't supposed to die," she said, more to herself than him. "She was supposed to live, and grow up to have a daughter of her own someday-"

"Addie, what are you talking about?"

"I should have saved him," she continued, the glass trembling in her hand. "That's why I came back. That's why I'm here. But what could I do to stop it? I tried to warn him. I tried to change things, and it all happened anyway, just like before-"

"Addie," Ben interrupted softly, taking the drink away and setting it down on the desk. He pulled her body against his warm, hard chest, her chatter muffled by his cotton shirt. "Shhh. You're not making sense."

She slumped against him in exhaustion. "I'm so tired." Tears of grief rolled down her cheeks. "I'm so tired, Ben…"

"I know you are," he murmured, smoothing down the wild locks of her hair; caressing her aching shoulders and back. "I know what you've been through tonight. You need to sleep."

"And your h-head… there's no bandage or-"

"I'm just fine," he reassured her swiftly. "I didn't need one."

"It can't have happened again," she choked, clutching at his shirt. "I should've stopped it-"

"Again? What are you talking about?" Ben asked, perplexed. "Russ?"

"The Johnsons were behind it. You know that." His face changed, and he looked cold and thin lipped-whether from anger or pain, she couldn't tell. "There's no proof yet. But I'll find it."

"They wanted you both gone, you and Daddy. But I saved you this time. They didn't count on that-"

"What do you mean, 'this time'?"

She ignored his question, her eyes fixed blankly on the window. "They'll still be after you. Jeff hates you, and Big George wants the ranch as well as the water rights. You're the only thing standing in the way."

Ben's gaze was sharp. "What did Jeff say to you in town that day? You've been suspecting something like this would happen. How did you know what had happened tonight before anyone else did?"

Her lashes lowered as she sought to conceal her sudden leaping guilt "I didn't know for certain. I've been worried about Daddy for so long, and I… just felt like something was wrong when we were in the cabin. I can't explain why. But it doesn't matter… I was too late." She didn't move a muscle as she leaned against him, some part of her mind waiting to feel him go tense with suspicion, waiting for him to hold himself away from her the smallest fraction of an inch. But he didn't move or betray his thoughts in any way. His fingers drifted through her hair, lightly stroking her scalp. She was lulled by the soothing touch. Her eyelids drooped heavily, eyelashes almost brushing her cheeks.

Feeling Addie's body begin to slacken, Ben sighed and brushed a tear off her cheek with his knuckle. "I'll walk you upstairs. You need to rest."

"I can't sleep-"

"Doc Haskin can give you a sedative. You're entitled to it."

"I don't want to go upstairs," she said, her voice cracking. "I don't want to go near that room where… Don't try to make me."

"I won't, I won't" he murmured, hunting for a handkerchief as she began to cry again. He located a crumpled wad of cotton in the back pocket of his jeans.

"I'll sleep on the parlor sofa with the light on-"

"Whatever you want, darlin'."

"I'm sorry." She gulped, taking the handkerchief and wiping her nose. "I'll be strong tomorrow. I'll help you. Oh, God, there's so much to do."

"We'll get through it."

Her mind was jumping from one thought to another in a random pattern. "Ben, it was one of our own men who-"

"Yes. Most likely. But if I ever hear you say it again, I'll skin you alive. Rumors and accusations are going to fly fast enough as it is. We'll know more tomorrow, after the boys have been questioned. "

"By the sheriff?"

"And me."

"What about the will?" she whispered. "Daddy never drew up the new one. That lawyer from the East didn't arrive in time. What's going to happen to the ranch and the family?"

"Russ did write a new one as soon as the fence cutting trouble started, just in case something happened before the lawyer got here. He didn't want anyone to know. Pete and I were witnesses. "

"He left… everything… in your hands?" Ben nodded silently, his eyes locking with hers. "Will it hold up?" she asked.

"It's not sewn up as neatly as the lawyer would have done it… but yes, I think it'll hold up."

A terrible sense of irony struck her. Then the old Adeline would never have won. The money would never have been hers anyway. It would still have been put in trust. And the Johnsons wouldn't win either, because Addie would stand fast by the alibi she'd provided for Ben. True, there were suspicions about Ben in the sheriff's mind, but suspicions wouldn't prove he had killed Russell. The only evidence that existed was circumstantial. The question was, would the Johnsons go to extra lengths to get Ben out of the way now?

"I'm afraid for you," she said in a low voice, and Ben gave her a humorless smile.

"Don't be. There's no need." But his confidence frightened her, as if he were thumbing his nose at the designs of fate.

Russell's funeral was short and efficient, the way he would have wanted it. He was buried on Warner land, in the family plot. The simple white marker would be replaced later by an elaborately carved marble one. Although only family members and ranch hands were allowed at the graveside service there was an endless river of callers for days afterward, people pouring in from distant counties to pay their respects. Everyone had a story to tell about some favor Russell had done for him. It seemed he was owned thousands of favors.

Since Caro was bedridden and May grief-stricken, Addie was the only family member able to take visitors out to the grave site. Back and forth she trudged with the callers, wishing she could tell them how much easier everything would be for her if they'd just stayed at home and sent letters of condolence. It was a surprise when Ruthie and Harlan Johnson showed up as representatives of the Johnson clan, their faces strained with anxiety as Addie opened the door to let them in. They half-expected to be turned away. Big George or Jeff wouldn't have been let on the ranch at all.

Addie received the couple with as much graciousness as she could muster. Only one tense moment occurred, when Ben, who'd been informed of the callers, strode into the house, his manner deceptively relaxed. Harlan had asked diffidently about trying again to negotiate an agreement about the water rights, causing Ben's eyes to turn cold. "You tell Big George," he said softly, "that Russell's death won't make any difference in the way this ranch is run."

Finally the number of visitors slowed to a trickle, and Addie had more time to take care of the housework. May spent most of her time sleeping in her room or taking care of Caroline, leaving the running of the house to Addie, who had never suspected how difficult it was to oversee the cleaning and cooking, the washing and ironing, the hundreds of details that had to be taken care of. She also found time to help Ben with the overload of business correspondence. She wanted to know as much as possible about their circumstances now. Ben had been appointed executor of the will and would manage all the financial concerns of the Warners and the Sunrise Cattle Company. Upon his marriage to Addie, he would jointly own Sunrise with the rest of Russell's children.

It was the opinion of everyone in the country that the marriage couldn't take place quickly enough. Addie was annoyed by the prudish streak in the townspeople, who had such earthy ways it was difficult to believe her affair with Ben was causing such a commotion. "You'd think we were the first couple ever to sleep together before their wedding night," she had complained to Ben, adding that their engagement should have been enough to satisfy others' sense of propriety. "For heaven's sake, after all Mama's been through, people won't let her alone for asking about when we're going to get married, and whether or not she thinks we sneak off when no one's looking."

Ben was amused by Addie's self-righteous airs. Nevertheless, he too insisted on having the wedding a short time from now, in two weeks. That was nothing even close to a decent interval of mourning for Russell, but Addie would be branded a scarlet woman if they waited longer. As things were now, most people preferred to think of her as an innocent girl who'd been taken advantage of, which suited Ben just fine. He'd rather be regarded as a debaucher of virtue by all of Texas than have a single thing said against Addie. As for sneaking off together, there was no question of that. They each wrestled with private demons. Making love was a pleasure neither of them felt entitled to, and even if they'd had the inclination, there were eyes upon the two of them at all times.

The routines around the ranch were the same as they'd always been. Work on the fence continued, including repairs made to the new places that had been cut. Cade and Leah went to school every day. Addie found some comfort in the amount of work she had to do. She liked the feeling of being useful and needed, and was glad that May seemed to have little interest in assuming her old responsibilities. To the rest of the family, life seemed curiously similar to what it had been before, and though they felt Russell's absence keenly, their world had not fallen apart with his death. Ben had taken the reins in hand, managing the ranch with apparent ease. His authority was well-established, and the support of the ranch hands was unfaltering, as it always was in times of trouble.

The family turned to Ben in the same ways they had turned to Russell, whether it concerned money, family, or personal matters. Although he'd refused to take Russell's place at the table, they all recognized him as the head of the family now. May mentioned to Ben that she wanted Russell's bed taken out of the house, and the next day it was gone, hacked to pieces and burned by the superstitious cowhands. Addie gave Ben lists of supplies needed for the kitchen, and a boy was dispatched immediately to the General Store. The porcelain face of Leah's doll cracked when she dropped it, and Ben gave her a dollar to buy a new one. They all relied on him without a second thought, casually adding their problems to the burdens he already carried. It seldom crossed anyone's mind that he might be mourning for Russell in his own way.

Only Addie understood the extent of Ben's grief and sense of loss. She'd been copying a letter in Russell's office the afternoon Ben had walked in with an absentminded look on his face. Suddenly he froze as he met her eyes, looking startled to see her there. He was the first to speak.

"I wasn't thinking," he said slowly. "I just walked into the house with a question for Russ. I forgot he wasn't here." And he stood looking at her silently, amazed at himself.

"I forget sometimes too," she said.

Ben swallowed hard, nodding briefly. Addie recognized his expression. It was the same one she’d worn as she'd looked into the mirror for the first time after waking up in another world, when she'd realized part of her life was gone forever. That's one thing I'll never have to be afraid of again, she thought grimly. I know what it's like to lose everything, and I know that somehow I got through it. That must mean I'll get through all of this too. Wordlessly she stood up and held out her arms to Ben, wanting to help ease his pain. He was not the kind to ask for comfort, but she would always offer, even if he decided to tum away from her.

Ben's face was strained. His mind was clouded with confusion. Long ago he had sworn never to rely on a woman he loved, never in this way. Enjoy her, pleasure her, take what she was willing to give, but never give her this power over him. And yet, hadn't he already taken that extra step, that one step too many? Addie's eyes were filled with knowledge of him, the secrets he had told her, the understanding he'd allowed her to have of him as a man. All of it he had given to her as if it had been her right. Now he was independent no longer. There were moments such as this when he realized the hold she had on him, and for a split second he wanted to break away from her.

"I know you're hurting," she said gently. "So am I. Don't turn away, Ben."

Before he could stop himself, he'd gone to her. He buried his face in her hair, his hands flexing convulsively in the loose material of her dress sleeves. The blessed, aching relief of it made his eyes and nose sting. His voice was hoarse as he sought to unburden his heart.

"I didn't know him for long. But he was more of a father to me than…' The rest of the sentence was choked off.

Addie stroked his dark head tenderly. "He loved you. He thought of you as a son."

"If only I'd known what was happening, I could have saved him. I should have-"

"All of us feel that way. His family was only a few doors away. Don't you think Cade blames himself for not having heard something? And me… oh, you can't imagine the things I wish I'd done." Addie felt much more responsible for Russell's death than Ben ever could. She'd known about it beforehand but still couldn't stop it. And that was a secret she would have to bear alone for the rest of her life.

Ben gave a shuddering sigh and squared his jaw, dragging a sleeve across his wet eyes.

"Don't blame yourself," Addie said, laying her cheek against his fast-beating heart, her arms wrapped around his waist. "He'd be mad if he knew you did."

And Ben allowed himself to hold her a few minutes more. In the back of his mind he knew he should have been overcome with shame, having given in to unmanly tears in front of a woman. But Addie was different from all others. There were no conditions to her love. He could trust her with his private thoughts, his deepest feelings. Finally he understood the real reason for wanting her as his wife. Not for the sake of propriety or passion, not for children, for the ranch, or even fora place to belong.

As a boy he had idealized love; as a man he had searched for it. And now that he'd found it, it was different from what he'd expected, more demanding, more vital, constantly changing. The bonds that tied him to her were stronger than steel chains, but within them there was perfect freedom. It was that way for both of them.

Caroline and Peter planned to leave with Leah after the wedding, as soon as Caroline was well enough to travel. May had decided to go with them to North Carolina, since most of her family and old friends were there. She'd made no mention of whether or not she intended to come back to Texas someday, but Addie suspected she would never return. Cade had opted to stay at the ranch for a while, until he was more certain of what he wanted.

The sheriff and his deputies finished questioning the ranch hands about what they might have seen or heard the night of Russell's murder, and they came up with no new information, no answers that threw any light on what had happened. Ben allowed his frustration to surface after they'd left, pacing around the ranch office and smoking cigarettes, crushing them out after only a few puffs. Addie's first inclination when she went in to talk to him was to sprawl comfortably in a chair, but the bothersome arrangement of skirts, small bustle, and petticoats forced her to sit upright in a stiffbacked, ladylike manner.

The air was stale with smoke. Leaning over, she struggled to open a window without getting up. Ben cursed under his breath and did it for her, and she made a face as she waved ineffectually at the air.

"Are you going to make a habit of this?" she asked.

"I liked the smell of Daddy's cigars much better."

Ben stubbed out a cigarette and raked a hand through his dark hair. "I might not have enough time to develop a habit," he said curtly.

"Meaning?”

"Meaning that if I'm not dry-gulched by some well meaning vigilante committee soon, I'll probably be taken out and hanged by the sheriff and a posse, nice and legal. I'm the most likely suspect. Everyone knows it. "

"But I've provided your alibi. I said you were with me that night. "

He shook his head, scowling morosely. "They think you're lying to protect me."

Addie sighed and pressed her palms to her temples, desperate to remember the name she’d given to Jeff. Inside her mind somewhere was the truth. She closed her eyes and pressed harder, wishing she could squeeze out the memory. But her returning memories were infrequent and almost always incomplete.

"It's one of our own men," she said, curling her fingers into her hair as if she would tug it out, disheveling the perfectly coiffed braids. "Surely one of them knows something, or suspects something. Why isn't anyone saying anything? They wouldn't really protect one of their own even if he was a murderer, would they?"

"I don't know," Ben muttered, beginning to pace again. "I wouldn't have thought so."

Later that evening, as the family sat down to dinner in the main house, Ben strode in with a distracted expression. They all glanced up at him as he looked at Addie and spoke quietly.

"I've got some business to take care of. I might be gone until morning."

Addie's skin prickled with awareness. Something had happened. "Anything serious?" she asked with forced calm, and he shrugged.

"I won't know until later."

Slowly Addie took the napkin from her lap and put it on the table. "I'll walk you to the door," she said, darting a cautious glance at May, who offered no objection. As soon as they left the room, Addie clung to his arm. His muscles were taut. "What is it?" she whispered anxiously.

"One of the boys admitted to having seen one of the beds in the bunkhouse empty during the night of the murder."

"Whose?"

"Watts's."

"But… but he's taken me and Caro to town lots of times, and you had him watch over the house so many nights while we were all asleep-"

"I can't prove he's the one. It's only a suspicion." Addie took a deep breath and held on to his arm more tightly. "Where are you going now?" she whispered.

"To visit his sister."

"But… she's a prostitute."

"Hell, Addie, I'm not going to bed her. I'm just going to ask her some questions."

"She's not going to tell you anything to implicate her own brother, even if she knows something. Oh, Ben, I don't like this at all-"

"She's just a girl. A girl who likes money." He frowned as he looked down at her, prying his arm loose from her grasp. "And I don't have much to lose by visiting with her. In the meantime, don't worry about Watts. He's staying far away from the house in a line shack tonight, guarding the edge of the property. "

"Ben," Addie said, her forehead furrowed, "she might try to get you to sleep with her. I know you and I haven't been together lately, but-"

"Oh, good Lord." Ben laughed suddenly. "If you think there's a danger of the two of us…" He continued to laugh, shaking his head as he went out the door. "For your sake, I'll do my best to control myself." She scowled as she watched him go, wondering what he thought was so funny.

In the cowboy's lingo, an especially dirty saloon or dance hall was called a dive. The place where Jennie Watts worked, the Do-Drop-In, deserved a new word all its own. It was filthy and noisy, the floors sticky, the customers raucous, the music boisterous. Ben ambled in and ordered a drink, discovering shortly thereafter that the cheap whiskey deserved its nickname of "rotgut." Ben drank sparingly, eyeing the fleshy girls and their skimpy clothes until he saw a bosomy dark-haired girl whose face reminded him of Watts. Lightly he caught her arm, and she automatically raised a hand to swing at him until she saw his face. Then she put the upraised hand to her hair, smoothing the stray wisps back as she smiled at him.

"Hey, han 'some. "

"Are you Jennie Watts?" It was unorthodox to ask someone's name. Part of the unwritten code was to wait until a stranger decided to identify himself-or herself. But this was a whore, and she couldn't afford to be offended too easily.

"Jennie's busy. But I'm not."

"Where is she?"

The girl frowned a little. "Upstairs. Don't know when she'll come down, neither."

He gave her a cajoling smile and slipped a few dollars into her hand. "Will this help you remember to tell me when she does?"

She smiled saucily, her palm closing around the money. "Maybe." She wiggled her backside enticingly as she walked off, causing Ben to submerge a grin in his drink. It was only a few minutes later that she returned to nudge him with her elbow while carrying a tray of empty glasses. He looked at the narrow stairs leading to the upstairs rooms and saw a girl just reaching the bottom step. She was young, thin and hard-faced, with exotic blue eyes set against strikingly pale skin. In a few strides he was at her side.

"Pardon me… Jennie Watts?"

She glanced up at him through adult eyes in a child's face, and the combination made him vaguely uneasy. "Why do you want to know?" she asked, surprisingly deep-voiced.

"If you are, I'd like a few minutes of your time. "

"You want to dance first?"

"No, I-"

"Then come on." She turned and went upstairs, leaving him to follow. They went into a small, sparsely furnished room where the air reeked of sex and liquor. Ben glanced at the unmade bed and stained sheets, his eyes expressionless. The girl sat on the comer of the bed and began to unbutton the front of her dress.

"Wait," Ben said, and she paused, her eyes cold as they rested on him.

"You want it with my dress on?"

"I just want to talk."

Jennie swore under her breath and stood up, pointing to the door. "Get out."

He pulled out a few bills, holding them between his first two fingers. "I intend to pay for your time."

Leisurely she walked over to the small table by the bed and lit a cigarette, regarding him through a haze of smoke. She didn't ask who he was. It didn't matter as long as his money was green.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked.

"Your brother."

She hesitated, then gave a short nod. "Yeah?"

"You seen him lately? Talked to him?"

"Maybe."

"Has he come into any money lately? Maybe even asked you to keep it for him?"

She looked at him silently, lifting the cigarette to her lips and taking a long drag. She had something worthwhile to tell.

"I have great respect for family loyalty," Ben continued, looking at her intently. "But it has been known to come with a price tag." He made a move to reach for his wallet again, then paused, waiting for her answer.

"Don't everything?" And she watched with an appraising gleam in her blue eyes as he tossed a wad of bills onto the bed.

Addie curled up in the comer of the slickly upholstered parlor sofa, feet tucked underneath her. The house was hushed as the family slumbered upstairs, the only sound the methodical ticking of the clock. An unread book was spread open in her lap. Occasionally she would tum a page, her hands compelled to do something. She looked up as she heard quiet feet on the stairs, and saw Cade enter the room, dressed in his cotton nightshirt and a pair of worn-out breeches. He looked tired and grumpy, his feet dragging as he walked over to the sofa and flopped down at the other end.

"What're you waitin' up for?" he asked, smothering a yawn. "He said he wouldn't be back till mornin'."

"I don't feel like sleeping. Why aren't you in bed?"

"I keep wakin' up, thinkin' I heard a noise." He closed his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa.

"Cade?"

"Hmm?" he grunted, his eyes still closed.

"I'm glad you're not going to North Carolina with the others. It's nice having you around."

His mouth turned down at the comers in a surly expression, as was his habit whenever confronted by sentiment. "I'm not gonna stay here forever."

Addie smiled slightly. "I know, Cade."

She closed her eyes too, lulled by the quiet and the boy's presence, and gradually the book slid from her lap onto the sofa as she let her head drop, too heavy to support any longer. "Watts," she murmured to herself, her forehead aching as she pondered the name and tried to remember, and slowly she was drifting, drifting, her heartbeat slowing.

She was cuddled close to Jeff, caught up against the side of his body, her slender fingers combing through the mahogany hair on the back of his neck. Her mouth brushed close against the comer of his as she leaned closer. "Help me with the name," he had urged.

Softly she whispered, her lips at his ear. "Try George Watts. He'll do anything for money, anything. I'm sure of it.”

"And you're sure about the rest of it too?"

"Of course I am. We don't really have a choice, do we?" She kissed him sweetly, with a silent promise.

Addie moaned in her sleep, turning her head restlessly.

After leaving the saloon, Ben rode back to Sunrise, every coherent thought gone from his mind. Bloodlust burned in his stomach, dug into his sides like claws, driving him to push the horse to its limits. The ground raced beneath them, but the ride seemed too slow, sickeningly slow.

The wooden line shack was the only shape that broke the horizon, that and the ruins of the fence. Through the cracks between the boards came the light of a lamp turned low. Ben flung himself from the horse almost before it stopped. In a few steps he reached the door, bursting it open with the heel of his boot. A chair crashed to the floor as Watts snapped to his feet… a Colt.45 appearing in his hand. He started to lower it as he saw it was Ben, then instinctively checked the motion.

Ben was aware of the gun trained on him, but in his rage he hardly cared. "Why?" he demanded, breathing hard, his pulse drumming. "Was it just for the money? Did you bargain with them or take the first price they named? You bastard. Tell me why you did it! "

Watts met his eyes calmly. "Because they offered enough."

"And what other reason?"

"No other reason."

Although it was what Ben had expected to hear, the confession was still a shock, a white-hot arrow through the chest. Blankly he stared at Watts' face, so resolute, so unashamed, and grief bubbled up in his throat. It was even worse that he had murdered Russ without a personal grudge, just for the money. It was below the worth of any man, but especially Russell Warner, whose death shouldn't have been bought cheaply.

Nothing Ben said or did could make Watts regret it.

Trembling with rage and despair, Ben sensed Watts' invincibility, the lack of emotion in that solid, square body. Watts was waiting for him to make a move, and then he would shoot him with the dispatch of an executioner. He intended to kill Ben, or he never would have confessed to the murder.

Ben gave one anguished thought to Addie and lunged forward, leading with his right shoulder to present less of a target. Watts pulled the trigger. There was a deafening sound and a Dumbing blow to his body. Thrown back by the impact of the bullet, Ben staggered against the table, knocking the lamp over. Glass crashed, and oil spilled over the floor. As he felt for his shoulder, his hand encountered warm, spurting wetness.

A gentle mist seemed to surround him, and he slid to the floor, struggling to keep from giving in to the soft darkness. There was a buzzing sound in his ears. His nostrils were filled with a sweet smell. Seconds passed, or maybe it was hours, as he fought to conquer the weakness in his legs. He had to stand up, had to move. The sound of crumpling paper was in his ears… no, it was the crackle of flames. He was surrounded by the smell of kerosene. Ben's eyes slitted open.

Watts grabbed a few belongings and headed out of the shack, leaving him to bum to death. One wall was already spitting flames up to the ceiling. Animal panic surged through Ben, and he groped blindly as Watts strode past him to the door. He managed to catch hold of a booted heel, and clung with all his strength.

Stumbling, Watts landed on the floor with a thud.

Ben rolled to avoid the swipe of Watts' free foot. The rickety building began to roar, roasting the two of them alive. They scrambled across the floor, grappling, grunting with pain. Watts tried to stagger to his feet and Ben hung on until they were both half-standing. For a split-second, Ben saw himself moving as if underwater. He tried to let go and stand on his own, but his reactions were too slow.

Raising his fist, Watts struck him on the jaw, sending him reeling to the doorway. The ceiling and walls folded in as if some giant foot had crushed the shack. Throwing an arm over his eyes, Ben stumbled outside and hit the ground, his body rolling once, twice before stopping.

It wasn't long before line riders and cowhands, alerted by the distant glow of fire, crowded on the scene with blankets, sacks and brooms, beating out grass fires. Left unchecked, a fire could race along miles of grazing land, covering entire counties, destroying property, killing men and livestock. Men came from both sides of the line to help, from Sunrise and the Double Bar. Ben regained consciousness slowly, watching with smoke-reddened eyes as the cowboys worked side by side, calling out warnings to each other. They succeeded in containing the fire to the shack, watching as it burned down to a pile of rubble and ashes.

The rest of the night passed in a haze. Although Ben had tended a number of gunshot wounds, he'd never experienced firsthand knowledge of them. As the bullet hole was pronounced clean and clumsily bandaged, it was all he could do to keep from snapping at the man who tended his shoulder to be more careful, the goddamn thing hurt worse than it looked. But complaining would have made him less of a man in their eyes, alienated their trust, so he kept his mouth shut except to down the whiskey they pressed on him. When they decided he'd had enough, he clambered up on his horse and slumped over the animal's neck as he was led back to the ranch house-an indignity, for someone else to have control of his reins, but better than being slung over the saddle like a sack of flour.

The entire Warner family was up by the time he was half-carried into the house. Addie's world had been suspended in motion from the moment she'd learned of the fire and knew Ben was probably in the middle of the commotion. She was frantic and relieved the moment she saw him. His clothes were bloody, his face haggard and soot-streaked. Every line of his body spoke of exhaustion and shock. She couldn't get words out of her mouth fast enough as she urged the men on either side of him to bring him into the parlor. As he slumped on the sofa, holding his head in his hands, she flew to the kitchen for a pair of scissors and the box of medical supplies, returning to find May fretting over the nicks the cowboys' spurs had left on the carpet and furniture legs.

Ben protested as Addie insisted on cutting away what was left of his shirt, cleaning his wound again and rebandaging it. Ignoring his muffled command to leave it alone, she tended his shoulder and washed his battered face. Eventually Ben went still under her hands, lulled by her gentle touch. Had May not been there, he would have pillowed his head in Addie's soft lap and gone to sleep. The idea was so tempting he considered using drunkenness as an excuse, but better judgment kept him from it.

"Addie," he said thickly, raising his hand to touch hers. "Watts…"

"I know." Her eyes were clear and serene as they met his. He realized that somehow, the knowledge of Watts's death had lightened a burden on her shoulders. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't over yet, but the exhaustion was too strong to fight now.

"The rest… tomorrow."

Addie nodded in understanding. "Together," she said, and he shook his head wearily.

"No. No, Addie." Those were the last words he remembered before falling asleep, turning his face into the sofa cushion with a sigh.

Addie stayed with him for hours, ignoring May's remonstrances to go to bed. She knelt by him and stroked his black hair, her eyes wandering over him frequently to make sure he was really there. May dozed lightly in a large chair, waking to find Addie curled up close by Ben with a protective hand on his shoulder, her gaze fastened on his slumbering face.

"For goodness sake," May said, sounding annoyed, "you've been all over him ever since he was brought in. Let the poor man alone while he sleeps. Why do you have to watch over him as if he were a child?"

Addie looked up at her gravely. "He's been hurt," she said, leaving her hand where it was. "And he's mine."

Did she mean to imply Ben was actually in need of such outrageous pampering, or that the way she treated him was her own business? It was unclear to May. But she didn't offer another word of criticism, perhaps deciding Addie was as much an enigma as Russell had been, and there was no use trying to understand her. In the silence, an awareness came to the two women as they each thought over the short exchange.

Addie was no longer May's most dependent child, in need of spoiling and soothing and understanding. She was as much a woman as May, stronger in a perplexing way, more self-contained. It was not lost on the older woman that much of the difference had been made by the man sleeping on the sofa.

Ben was livid the next morning as he talked with the sheriff in Russell's office. "Dammit, Jennie told me straight out that Watts did it! He admitted it to her. He gave her the money to keep for him. I know she'd swear to it-"

"For nothin'?" Dary interrupted quietly, reading his answer in Ben's scowl. "No, I didn't think so. You'd have to pay her. Most folks will believe she'd say whatever she was paid to say. An' I'm not sure I wouldn't believe that too. "

"The point is, she'll swear up and down Watts was paid by the Johnsons to murder Russell Warner."

"Anyone else hear his confession?"

"I did!"

"So…' Dary said, sighing and chewing on the end of a fat cigar, "We got your word and the word of a whore…" He paused and looked at Addie sheepishly. "'Scuse me, ma'am. I meant-“

"I know what she is," Addie assured him dryly. Dary turned again to Ben. "Your word and Jennie Watts's against the Johnsons', An' no proof."

"I've already told you one of the hands saw his bunk empty the night of the murder."

"He mighta just gone outt' take a… " Dary paused and looked at Addie, clearing his throat. "T' relieve himself. 'Scuse me, ma'am."

"One look at Ben's shoulder is proof of what he claims," Addie said. "Why do you think Watts shot him? Because Ben found out the truth and confronted him with it."

"Or maybe it was.just a cussin' match that got outta hand. Cowmen have been known to shoot each other with less reason."

"Dammit to hell. You're falling all over yourself to make excuses for him."

"Ben, I know how riled y'are. I know what you believe, an' I believe it too. But you can't convict a man without more evidence than we got. You know that. "

Ben muttered something under his breath, staring out the window with hard green eyes.

"Tell you what I can do," Dary continued. "I'll take the Johnson boy t' my office in town and question him. And I'll have a talk with Big George, let him know the suspicions a whole lotta folks have 'bout him. The Johnsons are gonna lie for a long while, I c'n promise you that. It'll give y'all a chance to git back on your feet. They won't make trouble for you."

"We'd appreciate that," Addie said quickly, before Ben could reply.

"Alrighty," Dary replied, and picked up his hat. "Well, I'm gonna ride out to the shack an' take a look before goin' to the Double Bar. Ben-"

"I'll have one of the boys show you the way," Ben said, swallowing his frustration as best he could.

"I'd do more 'f I could, Ben."

"I know."

The two men shook hands, and Addie preceded them out of the office. She stood on the porch with Ben and watched the Sheriff ride off in the direction of the burned-down line shack. As she looked up at Ben's stiff-jawed profile, she understood how painful it was for him to have to sit back and do nothing, knowing the Johnsons would get a slap on the wrist.

"I know you feel helpless," she said quietly.

The words seemed to spur him into action. "Not for long." He settled his hat on his head and pulled the brim low over his eyes.

"Where are you going?"

"To pay the Johnsons a visit. Before Dary gets there."

"You mean you're going to settle the score," Addie said in panic, following as he started to walk away. "Wait. I'm going with you." He wouldn't do anything rash or dangerous if she was with him.

Ben stopped and faced her. "No."

"You can't keep me from going. I'll follow you."

"You'll stay here if I have to tie you to a tree."

"Why not lock me in my room? I'll be less trouble to you that way. Or don't you remember what you told me that night about giving me freedom?"

"No. You're not going to win that way. This has nothing to do with that."

"I believed you when you said you wouldn't hold me back."

"Dammit, Addie-"

"I have a right to go. He was my father. And I was practically engaged to Jeff. "

"I have to keep you safe-"

"What's the danger in this visit? What are you planning to do, brandish your guns and start shooting?"

He looked at her without saying anything, his face set with anger.

"Take me with you," she urged. "I won't say anything. But I have to be there. You're not the only one who has ghosts to put to rest. How can I face the future, always looking over my shoulder?" She went over and touched his hand, her eyes locked with his. "Don't leave me behind. My place is by your side."

For a moment she thought he would refuse her. But then his fingers closed around hers.

They weren't stopped by the Double Bar men as they rode over the property line and up to the Johnsons' main house. The sleeves of Addie's black dress fluttered in the breeze like banners. Respectfully the cowboys touched the brims of their hats as she rode by, and she wondered how many of them might have suspected the Johnsons were behind her father's murder.

When they reached the house, Ben helped Addie down from Jessie, his hands tightening around her waist. She threw him a quick, nervous smile. They walked up the steps and were met at the front door by Harlan, who was trying to conceal his anxiety.

"Mornin', Ben, Miss Adeline-"

"We're here to see Big George," Ben interrupted. "Ben, I'm sorry t' tell you he's in the middle of somethin', some business stuff, but if I can help you with somethin' -"

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind sparing a minute or two for a neighborly visit."

"No, but-" Harlan was cut off as Ben shouldered him aside.

"I didn't think so." Solicitously Ben took Addie's elbow and drew her to his side. "George in his office, Harlan?"

"Yes, but-"

"Thank you."

Addie swallowed hard as they entered the cluttered office, unprepared for the tide of hate that swept over her as she saw Big George and Jeff sitting at a mahogany table. They rose to their feet as she walked in, Big George grunting with the effort of raising himself out of the chair. Jeff stared at her with unblinking blue eyes. How could they look her in the face after what they had done?

"Looks like we got visitors," Big George said, turning and indicating his chair with a meaty hand. "Have a seat, Miss Adeline?"

She shook her head, falling back a step closer to Ben.

"Seems you had quite a night, Ben," George continued, his mouth crinkling with the hint of a smile. "Lotta folks glad to see you still in one piece."

"Some more than others."

Big George chuckled. "You're a lucky man."

"Watts wasn't," Ben said, and let the silence draw out until the other man's smile had died away. "From what I saw, you can pour what's left of him into a teacup."

"What's that got to do with us?" Jeff burst out, and Ben smiled grimly.

"Please. Save the show for Sam Dary."

"Dary?" Big George repeated, his eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, I'd 'spected he'd be over here this mornin"." He noticed his son's worried expression. "Don't fret, boy. Just a little lecturin'… that's all Dary can do."

"But I can do more than that," Ben said. "I can make life very uncomfortable for the Johnsons. And I intend to."

"You have no proof of anyth-"

"Proof would make it easier. But I can manage without it."

Big George's face reddened. "If you're talkin' about dirtyin' up the Johnson name, I'll land on you so hard-"

"You do a fine job of it on your own. The Johnson name's beginning to leave a bad taste in peoples' mouths, and I sure as hell don't expect it to improve."

"Worry about your own name," Jeff said fiercely.

"Adeline sure as hell ain't gonna do well by it."

"Boy!" George snapped, but Jeff ignored him. "Didn't she tell you how we settled on Watts as our man? She told me he'd do it. She named her own father's killer, all 'cause of his new will. Didn't you know that? No. You just don't know what kind of woman you're fixin' to marry, do you?"

Addie felt faint as she heard the words. "No," she gasped, turning away, and Ben caught her by the elbows. Addie quivered, her knees weak, and she gripped his arms for support.

Ben stared at Jeff over her head, his eyes chilling.

"Mention her name again and I'll spread you all over this ranch."

"Don't you believe me?" Jeff taunted. "She said Watts would do anything for money. She told him when and where to meet me, helped arrange it all. How did you think we got him so easy? Am I makin' this up, Adeline? Go on, tell him it's not true. I want to hear how easy it is for you to lie."

Addie couldn't make a sound. She knew she should deny the accusation to save her skin, but she couldn't.

"Addie?" Ben said, and she lifted her head slowly, frightened of the suspicion she would see in his face, knowing she couldn't deny him the truth if he asked it of her. Time seemed to stand still, and she was faced with two different pasts, wondering which one would claim her future. An eternal judgment was about to be pronounced, and although she was terrified to face it, there was no other choice.

Trembling, she looked up into Ben's eyes. She saw no suspicion, no condemnation, no questions. Only concern for her, and a flicker of tenderness. "I should have left you at home," he said quietly. "You shouldn't be exposed to this."

She nodded mutely, overwhelmed with relief. It was alright. He loved her enough not to believe it. He'd dismissed Jeff's words as so much trash. Ben slid his arm around her waist and looked at Big George, his mouth twisting sardonically.

"Eventually you'll do yourselves in. I just want you to know I'll do my best to make it as easy as possible for you." He paused casually, as if just remembering something. "And if you have any questions about the Sunrise Ranch and its policies now that Russ Warner is gone, be assured it will follow in the same traditions. Only you'll find I'm not as good-natured or forgiving as Russ was. I won't rest until the debt has been paid and you're on your knees. It might take some time, but I'll do it. The fence is going back up, this time for good, and I'm going to bleed every last drop from you until your ranch is bone dry and the cattle worn to skeletons. I'm going to ruin you, and one day you'll wish to God you hadn't taken Russ out and left me in charge."

After that visit Ben seemed more at peace in his own mind about Russell's murder. He was not, as Addie had feared, consumed with the idea of revenge, although there was a certain gleam in his eyes whenever the Johnsons were mentioned. He walked with a lighter step now, as self-assured as ever, slower to anger, quicker to smile. The ranch seemed to be infused with new life, as if the sun had come out from behind a cloud. Addie was still the only one who dared argue with Ben or challenge him, and she did so as much as she pleased. In return he was remarkably possessive of her, claiming her time and attention with the matchless arrogance she scolded him for and secretly loved..

No part of his life was closed to her, including his work. Having elicited his promise to take her with him to Kansas City when he bought new shorthorn stock for Sunrise, she pored over his books on cattle breeding and transportation. When May overheard one of their business discussions and tried to upbraid Ben for it, he smiled and said he expected Addie to come up with ideas that would make the ranch a pile of money. The entire family, as well as most outsiders, shook their heads over Ben and Addie, who seemed to be developing one of the most extraordinary relationships the town had ever seen.

As for the two of them, they knew there was still much to find out about each other, more than could be discovered in a lifetime. Addie never failed to surprise Ben, even on their wedding night, when she began to cry as soon as he carried her over the threshold of her refurbished room. He sat down on the new double bed and cradled her in his arms, earnestly entreating her to tell him what was wrong.

"We're finally married," she said, mopping her face with his handkerchief. "I'm so happy and relieved… and over-whelmed."

Ben held her for a long time, his head bent down to hers as he pressed lingering kisses on her face, whispering his love to her. As she twined her arms around his neck, her body soft and warm against his, they were both shaken. They kissed hungrily, desperately aware of how long they had gone without making love. With fumbling haste they stripped their clothes off, and it was different from the gentle reunion they had expected, so savagely sweet to feel their naked bodies clasped together. Slowly Addie felt herself dissolve in an ocean of darkness in which there was nothing but his body, his hands, his mouth on hers. She matched his boldness, equally fierce, equally tender, until pleasure shuddered through her in a torrent that seemed to reshape her very soul.

In the aftermath she lay contentedly in his arms as he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger and brought it to his lips. "I used to dream about you making love to me," she whispered, and felt his soft laugh against her temple.

"Before we actually did?"

"Before I even met you. I didn't know your name, or even what you looked like."

Ben smiled lazily. "How do you know it was me?"

"Don't be silly. How could I mix you up with someone else?" She slid a hand over his chest to show him he was hers to touch whenever she wanted. Ben leaned over her, dark hair falling on his forehead as he lowered his mouth to her throat.

"Why don't you show me some of the things we did in those dreams, Mrs. Hunter?" he whispered, his lips wandering over her skin.

"It might take all night," Addie warned.

"I insist."

And she laughed, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him passionately.

The train had come rumbling into the depot with a hiss of steam and a deafening whistle, exciting Leah to the point of speechlessness. Since no one in the family believed in long good-byes, they all tried to be brisk and cheerful. May was the first to move, kissing Cade and admonishing him to behave himself. She turned to Addie with glassy eyes, and hugged her.

“I’ll miss you, Mama." Addie said, her throat aching. She breathed in the scent of vanilla and ducked her head against May's shoulder, not wanting to let her go.

"I'll be happier in North Carolina," May whispered. "I belong there, just like you belong here."

Then May let go of her and turned to Ben, who took her hand and raised it to his lips in an odd and strangely appropriate gesture. She pressed his hand, the most affection she could bring herself to show him. "Take care of them," she said, and turned away, assisted by the conductor as she boarded the train.

Addie and Caroline held on to each other, both of them searching for something to say. Addie knew if she tried to make a sound, she would start bawling and wouldn't be able to stop. She would miss Caroline more than anyone, even May. Caroline finally cleared her throat and spoke in a tremulous voice.

"Be happy, Adeline. I wilL"

Addie nodded, swallowing painfully as they let go of each other. She returned Peter's perfunctory hug, then looked down at Leah, whose solemn eyes seemed to read her thoughts. Addie picked up one of the little girl's perfect braids and smoothed an imaginary wisp of hair in place. She stared at the small face and wise gray eyes, and in a flash she was lost in a memory… curled up with Aunt Leah by the radio, shrieking with laughter at a comedy show. And then, striding into Leah's bedroom, making the older woman laugh by singing… you're the cream in my coffee … Strange, that what they'd once been to each other, they now would never. But Addie had memories. Maybe that was why it was so hard to let this Leah go, because of her memories of the other one. She knelt down and put her arms around the girl. "I love you, Leah," she said, and although she spoke to the child, she was remembering the woman. "You have a good trip. "

All the good-byes were said and they boarded the train, leaving Addie, Cade, and Ben standing in the depot. Suddenly Addie knew she didn't want to watch the train pull away, and she turned to Ben with tears in her eyes and a question hovering on her lips. He smiled before she had to say a word, putting one arm around her and clapping a hand on Cade's shoulder.

"I've had a sudden inspiration," he said, breaking the solemn mood. "Let's go have lunch somewhere. And ice cream for dessert. "

"Strawberry," Addie said immediately.

"Vanilla," Cade said at the same time, and they wasted no time in leaving the depot.

When they returned to the ranch it was late afternoon, and Addie flew into the kitchen to start dinner. She was elbow-deep in flour when Cade came whooping into the house to find her.

"Adeline! Adeline! Guess who I've been talkin' to. Guess who came back!"

"Who?"

"Diaz! He's out on the front porch right now, settin' there like always, gettin' ready to tell a few tall ones."

Distractedly she picked up a rag and wiped her hands on it. "Have you done your homework for tomorrow?"

"You're sonndin' like Ma already," Cade said, immediately disgusted.

"Well, have you?"

He grinned crookedly. "Okay, okay, I'm gettin' to it."

As he disappeared upstairs, Addie walked out to the front porch. Just as Cade had said, Diaz was out there, half-reclining on the steps in his usual position.

"Mr. Diaz;" she said, and as he started to move, she gestured for him to stay still. "No, please don't get up. I was thinking of joining you." He made a show of dusting off a step with his bandanna, and she sat down. "It's nice to see you here again, Mr. Diaz."

"I'm an old drifter, ma'am. No use fightin' against it."

"How long are you planning to stay?"

When he didn't reply, she smiled, realizing he never knew how long he would stay somewhere or when he would leave. Folding her hands in her lap, she looked out at the sky, which was streaked with pink and gold. "Nice sunset," she remarked, and he nodded. They were companionably silent for a few minutes, watching the sun dip closer to the horizon.

Diaz was the first to speak. "Damn shame about Mr. Warner."

Addie sighed and stared at the ground. "It's hard to forgive myself. I feel… responsible."

"How's that?"

"Remember that discussion we had once, about someone having a second chance? About miracles and being able to… go back and change things?"

Diaz nodded slowly.

"I had a second chance," she said, watching cautiously for his reaction. He didn't seem surprised or shocked. "You know, don't you? I don't know how or why, but you understand what happened to me the day I disappeared and came back. "

"Yes, ma'am."

Was he a crazy old man for believing her? She wasn't sure. No one in his right mind should accept that she'd been transferred to the future and back. Certainly it was a secret she would always have to keep from Ben, who would think she'd gone out of her mind if she tried to tell him. But she knew Diaz understood, whether it was because of his age, his superstitious nature, innate wisdom or maybe even senility.

"I'm responsible for not having saved Russell," she said, unburdening herself further. "I knew about it beforehand. I should have been able to stop it."

"Maybe you weren't supposed to," Diaz said matter-of-factly. "Maybe you were just supposed to save yourself." He looked out to the open range and gestured to a ride in the distance. They could tell by the way he sat the horse that it was Ben. "Or him. Who's to say?"

Addie frowned thoughtfully. "It's something to think about." It was possible Diaz was right. She had changed Ben's destiny as well as her own. Her second chance had given them both a future. Maybe Russell's death had been inevitable, and his second chance would come in another time and place. Who was to say?

All at once she felt light, as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Perhaps she should try to let go of the old Adeline Warner. She couldn't change what she'd been, but she could make the most of what she had now. Shading her eyes, she watched Ben's approaching figure, her heart beating faster. Nothing was as important as his love. Together they had made a new beginning, and life promised to be good for them. Heedless of the old man watching, she stood up and ran to meet Ben.

He reined in the horse and dismounted, catching Addie around the waist and lifting her a few inches off the ground. Warm green eyes traveled over her face. "What's got you in such a hurry?" he asked, and kissed her before she could answer.

Addie laughed breathlessly as soon as her toes touched the ground. She looped her arms around his neck. "Dinner's going to be late. I hope you're not hungry. "

"Of course I am," Ben said, lowering his head to kiss her again. "But only for you, darlin'."