Chapter Eight

"Joshua, when are you going to start feeding this girl?" Blanche inquired cheerfully as she glided past him into his house. "You've had her here for three months now, and she's still nothing but skin and bones."

Josh frowned, noticing Felicity's drawn face over Blanche's shoulder as the two women embraced in greeting. Blanche was right. Although Felicity had gained a little weight in the months since their marriage, of late she had been alarmingly pale and sickly. "I try, but she doesn't eat much," Josh replied only half-jokingly as he pictured the way Felicity had been picking at her food the past few weeks.

Felicity almost groaned aloud at Joshua's remark. Lately it seemed as if everything she did displeased him-eating, not eating, sleeping, not sleeping. And now he had stirred Blanche's considerable interest in her unusual behavior. The older woman pulled back, carefully examining Felicity's face for signs of undernourishment, and Felicity wanted to groan again. "I've been off my feed a little, that's all," Felicity explained lightly. "Is that a new dress?" she asked to change the subject, stepping back to examine Blanche's outfit. Her guest was wearing a scarlet gown of lightweight lawn in deference to the warmer weather of early summer. Froths of white lace adorned her throat and wrists and trimmed the jaunty bustle of her skirt.

"Yes," Blanche replied, momentarily distracted. "It just arrived from my dressmaker. I'm not too sure about the color, though. Do you think it's bright enough?" she inquired with a twinkle.

"Well, you'll never be lost as long as you're wearing it," Felicity replied with mock innocence, making Blanche laugh uproariously. "Come and sit down. I'll have Candace make some tea."

Over the Sunday afternoon tea, Blanche supplied the Logans with the latest gossip from town and agreed that this had been the warmest spring she could remember and speculated on how hot the summer months would be. Unfortunately, Felicity noticed, no matter what the topic of conversation, Blanche's perceptive green eyes continued to study her suspiciously.

Felicity squirmed under the scrutiny and glanced surreptitiously at the mantel clock. Stifling a yawn, she fought the lassitude that threatened to overwhelm her. It struck at this time every day, and although most times Joshua was gone from the house and did not know that she often had to actually take a nap, she had no hope of fooling him on a Sunday, when he was home all day. If her visitor didn't leave soon, Felicity would fall asleep right in the chair, and wouldn't that give Blanche something to talk about!

"You look tired, honey," Blanche observed. "Aren't you sleeping well?" Blanche had expected a blush and an embarrassed glance from Felicity to her amorous husband, but instead the girl lowered her eyes and twisted her hands self-consciously in her lap.

"I sleep very well, thank you," Felicity replied, wondering how to change the subject without seeming rude Josh was not averse to being rude, however. He sighed disgustedly. "Is that why you're up and down a dozen times a night?" he challenged.

"Not a dozen!" she replied defensively. She closed her eyes in despair when he lunged to his feet and began to pace the room restlessly.

Thrusting his fingers through his hair, Josh glanced once more at Felicity's drawn face. She was already drooping. In a little while she would not be able to hold her eyes open. She might even fail asleep sitting up in the chair as she had done once before. He had pretended not to know about her daily naps because she got so upset whenever he mentioned them. "I'm not sick!" she would insist, but Josh knew better. No one except a very sick person had to take a nap in the middle of the day. And then there was the problem with her eating. Sometimes even the smell of food made her sick.

The worst part was feeling so helpless. He couldn't even get her to talk about it. He'd tried to enlist Candace's aid, but ever since Jeremiah's return, Candace had been alarmingly vague about everything. She had not seemed to notice anything unusual about Felicity's behavior. Maybe he should ask Blanche… No, definitely not, he decided quickly. He would not discuss such a sensitive topic as his wife's health with Blanche Delano. Besides, he realized, watching Blanche watching Felicity, she already seemed aware that there was a problem. With her instincts, she would figure out what was wrong in no time. All he had to do was leave them alone.

"I… Excuse me, ladies. I've got something to do in the barn," he improvised.

He did not look back on his way to the door, so he did not see Felicity's agonized expression. Blanche did, though. "Honey, what did you mean when you said you were off your feed?" Blanche asked when the door had slammed behind Josh.

"What?" Felicity asked, having only half heard the question as she agonized over the fact that Joshua could no longer stand being in the same room with her. His displeasure with her was painfully obvious.

"Your eating…" Blanche began, but stopped when Felicity bristled.

"There's nothing wrong with me," she snapped, then caught herself. After all, Blanche was her friend. Felicity had no reason to take out her frustrations on a guest. "I am not sick," she said more calmly. "I wish people would stop fussing over me."

"Of course," Blanche readily agreed. "There's nothing worse. I remember once…" Blanche launched into a story to which Felicity paid little attention. She was too busy wondering how she was going to convince Joshua and everyone else that she was not sick when all she wanted to do was go into her bedroom, curl up on the big, wide bed, and sleep for the rest of the day.

Well, Blanche thought as she rattled on with her story, if Felicity won't talk, I'll get it out of Candace. But when Candace came in a few minutes later to remove the tea things, Blanche received a rude shock.

"Have you found a man for me yet, Candace?" Blanche asked with a wide smile.

Candace glanced up, a blank expression on her elegant face. "Excuse me, Mrs. Delano," she mumbled absently and went back to her work.

Blanche's eyes widened. What on earth was wrong with Candace? She was acting like she was simpleminded! Blanche glanced toward Felicity to see if the girl had noticed. Felicity was frowning uneasily.

"What's wrong with Candace?" Blanche asked the moment the black woman had gone.

"She… she had a shock," Felicity explained reluctantly, uncertain how much of the story she should reveal to Blanche.

"What kind of a shock?" Blanche insisted, reminding Felicity of Blanche's single-minded determination when she wanted to know something. Trying to keep the story from her would be a waste of energy, energy Felicity sorely lacked at the moment.

"One of those rustlers that Joshua caught was Candace's son," she began, and soon she had told her friend the whole story.

"Good heavens, his brother!" Blanche exclaimed when she had heard everything. "How did Joshua take the news?"

Felicity shook her head in despair. "He never talks about it, but I think it hurt him badly."

Blanche nodded her agreement. "It must have," she murmured as she recalled the bleakness she had noticed about him recently. Now that she thought about it, she also recalled that she had seen very little of Candace on her visits, which explained why she had not noticed the change there.

Candace's withdrawal certainly explained why the black woman had not proposed a theory about Felicity's ill health, a theory that seemed obvious to Blanche. Of course, she still did not know all the facts. "Is it bad dreams that keep you awake at night?" she asked, hoping to trick Felicity into revealing something.

She failed.

"I don't have any trouble sleeping," Felicity lied indignantly. "And I eat just as much as anyone else around here and-"

"And you aren't about to drop right off to sleep right now, either," Blanche finished in a placating tone. "Not feeling well is nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, I think I know what's causing it…"

"Nothing's causing it!" Felicity cried, jumping to her feet. "I'm not sick!" To her horror, tears sprang to her eyes. She dashed them away with hands that trembled, belying her words even more. Blanche might think that illness was nothing to be ashamed of, but Felicity knew differently. She had seen Joshua's frowning disapproval. He did not want a wife who would be a burden to him, who would take to her bed every afternoon with a case of the vapors. She couldn't be sick. She simply couldn't.

"No, of course you aren't sick," Blanche agreed, rising also and placing a comforting arm around Felicity's shoulders. "And now I've upset you. If I'm not more careful, I'll wear out my welcome here. Next time I come calling, you'll run me off with a shotgun."

Felicity managed a watery smile at the picture Blanche drew, but she still did not trust her voice to reply.

"I'm going to run along now so you can have some peace and quiet, but will you do me one favor?" Felicity nodded. "Please go to your room and lie down with a cold rag over your eyes. If Joshua sees that I've made you cry, he'll come after me with that shotgun!"

"I will," Felicity promised, giving Blanche another hug. Little did Blanche know that lying down was just about the only thing Felicity would be able to manage. Simply standing upright was making her lightheaded.

Once outside, Blanche scanned the ranch yard for Joshua's familiar figure. If she could not get anywhere with Felicity, she would go to the second best source of information. Blanche found him over by the corrals, smoking a cigarette. He didn't seem to be doing anything important, and she wondered briefly if he had purposely left her alone with Felicity.

As she strode over to him, she studied what she had characterized as his "bleak expression." Suddenly she realized that Jeremiah Logan might not be the only reason for his cheerless demeanor. Josh was, after all, the one who had hinted to her about Felicity's suspicious symptoms in the first place. Was he worried about the girl? And why shouldn't he be, she decided as a small smile curved her lips. He'd had more than enough time to fall in love with her.

"Joshua, I want to talk to you a minute," she announced, watching his expression carefully as he turned to face her.

His silver eyes were wary. "About what?" he said, politely tossing down his cigarette and grinding it out with his heel.

"About Felicity," she said when she was close enough to say it softly so no one would overhear. She watched his eyes kindle briefly with an emotion that could only be called fear. Yes, she determined, he was worried about his wife.

"What about her?" he asked, unable to keep the concern from his voice.

"She doesn't look very well, but I can't get a thing out of her about how she feels. She just keeps insisting she's fine. Is that true?"

Josh shook his head. "She's tired all the time. She even sleeps during the day. Maybe that's because she hardly eats, though, or else the way she's up and down all night."

"Does she ever throw up?" Blanche asked.

"No… no, I don't think so," Josh replied, a little taken aback by such a forthright question. Unfortunately, it was only the first in a long line of equally forthright and downright embarrassing inquiries as Blanche questioned him about Felicity's private bodily functions.

By the time she had finally elicited the information that Felicity had not menstruated since their marriage, Josh knew his face was brick-red. But his discomfort quickly changed to alarm when he saw the way Blanche covered her eyes and turned her face away.

Blanche was trying very hard not to laugh. How could a grown man, a man who had lived all his life with cows and horses, not have figured out what was wrong with his own wife? Of course, cows didn't get morning sickness or get sleepy during the day or…

"Is she going to die?" he asked in an oddly flat voice.

"Die!" Blanche echoed in amazement, instantly forgetting her urge to laugh. Then she looked at him, really looked at him. His face was carefully expressionless, but his eyes were clouded with pain. "You really love her, don't you?" she asked softly, glad that her instincts had proven correct.

Josh flinched as if she had slapped him. Love? What did love have to do with anything? "She's my wife," he said dismissively, unwilling to examine his feelings any more closely than that.

Blanche nodded sagely. "Well, I don't think she's going to die. What I do think is that she's going to have a baby."

"A baby?" he said as if he had never heard the word before.

"Yes," Blanche affirmed cheerfully. "That's what happens when two people carry on the way I expect you and Felicity have been carrying on."

But Josh barely heard her barb. "Are you sure?" he demanded.

"Yes, I'm sure," she mocked cheerfully. "She hasn't had her monthly. That's the first sign. When a woman is breeding, she gets awfully tired and needs extra rest. At night, she has to get up to relieve herself a lot. As far as the eating goes, there's even a name for it: morning sickness. Sometimes she might even throw up." Blanche had thrown up quite often, she recalled bleakly. Both times. Josh's voice rescued her from her unpleasant memories.

"A baby. I'll be damned," he muttered.

"Congratulations, Joshua," Blanche said with a grin, extending her hand.

Josh shook it. "Thanks," he responded automatically, but then he thought it over. He owed Blanche more than that. "Thank you, Blanche," he said, smiling back at her.

"My pleasure. I like delivering good news," she replied. Then she noticed his glance straying longingly in the direction of the house. "You leave her alone for a while now," she warned. "I sent her to bed. Let her rest, and when she wakes up, you can tell her. That'll be soon enough. Meantime, you can fetch my buggy for me."


He was a big man. Felicity couldn't see his face, but his clothes were all black. He called her name, "Felicity!" and she ran from him. She ran and ran until she couldn't run anymore. Her legs felt like lead weights, dragging her down and down while he came closer and closer.

"Lissy!" he cried as he reached for her.

"No!" she cried, but she could not escape. His hands clutched at her, grabbing and clinging even though she struggled.

"Ussy! Wake up! It's just a dream!"

Her eyes snapped open. For a moment the face before her looked strange and unfamiliar, but then she recognized him. "Joshua," she breathed, sinking gratefully into the protection of his arms.

Josh held her, rocking her slightly for comfort. How many times had he done this in the long weeks since Jeremiah Logan had escaped? he wondered. He didn't even need to ask what the dream had been about. It was always the same. But he couldn't let her see how concerned he was himself. He would only scare her more. "Serves you right for sleeping in the daytime," he teased in an effort to break the evil spell of the dream.

Felicity blinked, lifting her head from his chest to look around. Sure enough, it was broad daylight. He had caught her sleeping in the daytime again. Too ashamed to meet his gaze, she tried to pull away from him. "I'm sorry. I'll get up right away."

"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked, alerted by the stiffness in her tone and in her body. Holding her fast with one hand, he used the other to force her chin up. Had the dream disturbed her more than usual? He searched the clear blue depths of her eyes, but found no fear there, only a strange sadness.

"I'll fix you something to eat," she offered, eager to make up for her lapse. "Is it late? You must be hungry," she added, wondering how she could have slept the afternoon away.

And then he understood that she was embarrassed. He smiled down at her. "No, it's not late and I'm not hungry," he assured her. No wonder she looked so odd. He had made such a fuss about her sleeping during the day, she probably thought he was mad about it. "In fact, I was going to let you sleep longer, but then I heard you…" His voice trailed off as he realized he was reminding her of the nightmare again. He changed the subject to a much more pleasant one. "But now that you're awake, I've got something to tell you."

Felicity watched his smile warily for a moment until her sleep-fogged brain finally accepted the fact that he was not angry. Ever so gently, he pressed her back against the pillows and then leaned over her, bracing his arms on either side of her shoulders.

"There's a very good reason why you've been so sleepy," he said, reaching up to brush a lock of golden hair away from her cheek. She had removed her dress and petticoats for her nap. Clad only in her chemise with her hair coming loose and sleep creases on her cheek, she looked like a little girl. Except for the swell of her breasts.

"There is?" she asked, puzzled by his smug expression.

"Yes, there is," he repeated, using one long finger to trace the rounded neckline of her chemise. When he came to the valley between her small breasts, he paused to stroke it.

"And what is that reason?" she asked, dimpling because she thought she understood that he was going to say something slightly suggestive or even totally shocking.

"Because you're going to have a baby."

At first Felicity thought she must have heard him wrong. "A baby?" she repeated incredulously.

Josh grinned expansively. Her reaction was the same as his had been. "That's right."

A baby! Felicity's mind reeled at the thought. "Are you sure? How do you know? How can you tell?" she babbled, scrambling to a sitting position so she could better examine the size of her stomach. Even when she pulled her chemise taut with both hands, she could see no visible sign that what he claimed was true.

Josh considered her stomach with mock gravity. "No, it doesn't show yet," he decided, struggling not to laugh out loud at her excitement.

"Then how do you know?" she demanded.

"Blanche told me…" he began.

"Blanche!"

"Hush," he chastened her. "I'm trying to explain. You see, she was worried about you, and so was I…"

"Worried!" she repeated in amazement. He hadn't been angry at all! She started to say that, but he glowered at her sternly, and she bit back the remark.

"As I was saying," he began again with long-suffering, "we were worried about you, and Blanche started asking me questions. She added up all your symptoms and came up with a baby."

"What symptoms do I have?" Felicity asked in alarm.

"Let's see now," he said, pretending to consider. "Sleeping in the daytime, not sleeping at night because you have to… ah… you know," he began, ticking the reasons off on his fingers. "Not being able to eat, not having your… ah… monthly…"

"You told her that!" Felicity shrieked in mortification.

"She asked me right out," Josh replied defensively. "She wanted to know how long it had been since you bled, and I told her not since we got married." Then he remembered they had not been together every single day since their wedding. "Is that right?" he asked with a frown.

Felicity nodded, flushing slightly. She had not thought anything about it, though. Sometimes she did not menstruate for months at a time, so it was nothing unusual. "And all that means I'm going to have a baby?" she asked, still not quite able to believe such a marvelous thing.

He grinned with satisfaction. "Only if you've made love with a man."

"Well, I've certainly done that," she replied without thinking, and blushed when he laughed uproariously. She watched his handsome face, marveling at the way his gray eyes danced. He was quite obviously thrilled about the baby, as thrilled as she would be as soon as the initial shock wore off.

Josh forced himself to sober when he saw how he had embarrassed her. He succeeded fairly well in silencing his laughter, but he could not quite keep his mouth from smiling. Looking down at her, noticing for the thousandth time how utterly lovely she was, he realized how very lucky he was to have found her. In three short months she had given his life a fullness, a richness that he had not even known was missing. Now she had fulfilled his dream of a child, too. "You've given me everything I ever wanted," he said, gently stroking the burnished gold of her hair.

Felicity's eyes widened at his words. This was the closest he had ever come to acknowledging any deeper feelings for her. Frantically, she tried to analyze his statement, to examine it for hidden meanings. What could Joshua Logan have wanted that she had been able to give him? Unable to imagine having made any other contribution to his life, she was left with only one possibility. She clearly recalled the conversation they had had months ago during their "honeymoon," when he had spoken of his love for his ranch and how years from now Logans would still live here. "You're really happy about the baby, aren't you?" she asked, almost wishing that he would deny it, hoping he would insist she was all he cared about, but knowing how foolish such a wish was.

"Of course I'm happy about the baby," he hastened to reassure her, puzzled over the worried frown that marred her perfect face. Women certainly got peculiar notions. He smiled tenderly, wanting to put her mind at ease on the subject once and for all. "The reason I wanted to get married in the first place was because I wanted children." How long ago that seemed now, he thought, a time and place when he'd believed any woman would do, so long as she could provide him an heir.

His words stung her, and she winced inwardly with the pain of betrayal. How easily he made a mockery of her love, of all the tender feelings he had inspired in her. He had only wanted to get married so he could have a child! Of course, that explained everything, why he had proposed to her in the first place and even why he had seduced her before their wedding. He had wanted to be certain she would be satisfactory. It also explained why he had been such an eager lover since their marriage. He wanted to get her with child, and now he had succeeded. The burgeoning joy she felt over her pregnancy smothered under the realization that he had never cared for her at all.

Josh frowned, easily reading the sadness in her large, expressive eyes but unable to understand the reason for it. Only a moment ago she had been as pleased about the baby as he, but now… The cold fingers of apprehension stroked along his spine as he considered the possible causes. Had she begun to think about the dangers of pregnancy and childbirth? How clearly he remembered his mother refusing his father because she did not want any more children. Her protest, "I almost died the last time!" echoed in his brain.

But Felicity wouldn't die. He wouldn't let her. He would take care of her and protect her. She would get the best care any pregnant woman had ever received. Tempering his urge to crush her to him, he slipped his arms around her gently and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, contenting himself with this brief taste even though his body burned for her. "I wouldn't mind making love to you right now," he murmured in a masterpiece of understatement, knowing that he would now have to moderate his desires because of her delicate condition.

Felicity closed her eyes against the pain his words caused. He wouldn't mind making love to her, but he wasn't going to. She could tell from the way he was holding her. But she could not let him know how devastated she was to learn his passion had not been for her at all, but for the child she would produce. She knew she had not yet earned his love, but at least she had thought he wanted her. Now even that was gone. "You don't have to now," she said, forcing a lightness to her tone. "I'm already… pregnant," she added, trying out the word she had never dared to speak aloud before.

Josh frowned. Was she telling him she no longer wanted to make love with him? In all the months of their marriage, she had never refused him, and he had assumed she enjoyed it as much as he. She'd certainly seemed to. But perhaps now she was concerned over her pregnancy, too. As difficult as it would be, he would honor her wishes. Reluctantly, he released her from his embrace. "You're right, I don't have to make love to you now," he said with an understanding smile, wondering how long he should wait and hoping the waiting would not drive him insane.

Felicity watched him rise from the bed, unable to wrench her gaze from the sight of his smile. How pleasant he was being about the whole thing, but then, he wouldn't want to upset her. That would be bad for the baby.

"I'm going to take good care of you, Lissy," he promised, confirming her suspicions. "You just go back to sleep now, and this time try to dream happy dreams," he added, tapping her nose playfully.

She managed to hold her tears until the door closed softly behind him. So intense was her agony, she drew her knees to her chest and clutched them tightly, muffling her sobs in the bedclothes. What had she ever done to deserve this? she wondered bitterly. What should have been the happiest news of her life had been ruined. A baby, Joshua's baby, grew inside of her, a tiny spark of life that was the fruit of the love she bore her husband, a tiny person whom she already loved fiercely. How unfair that her husband loved only the child.


"Miss Felicity? Are you ever gonna wake up? It's almost suppertime."

Candace's voice cut through the fog of sleep, and slowly Felicity returned to consciousness. Disoriented, she could not at first recall why she happened to be sleeping at suppertime or why her eyes were so puffy and swollen. Then it all came back to her in a rush. The baby. And Joshua. She groaned.

"Are you all right?" Candace asked in concern. "Mr. Josh said to let you sleep as long as you want, but I didn't reckon you'd want to miss a meal."

"I'm fine," Felicity assured her, struggling to break free of the lethargy that bound her. So many conflicting thoughts fought for dominance in her brain that for a moment she did not even think to wonder whether Candace knew the news. When she did, she realized that was impossible. If Candace had known, she would have told Felicity herself, and Joshua would not have had to go to Blanche. With new bitterness, she experienced the humiliation of having needed her own husband to tell her she was pregnant.

"Did Joshua tell you that I'm going to have a baby?" Felicity asked, watching Candace's expression carefully.

The black woman's eyes grew large, and for the first time in months she turned her full attention to what Felicity was saying. "A baby?" she repeated. Her eyes seemed to kindle to life. "When? How far along are you?" She moved quickly over to the bed and sat down beside Felicity.

"I… I don't know," Felicity admitted, acknowledging another humiliation. "How can you tell?"

In an instant, Candace became her old self, competent and capable. She asked the necessary questions and determined the answer. "I'd guess it must've happened right away, as soon as you two got married. I expect the baby will be along round about early December. Just in time for Christmas. There's so much to do," she said almost to herself. "Mr. Josh's old cradle will have to be painted, and we can start right away on making some baby clothes. A winter baby will need a fur bunting, too, and a quilt and…"

Felicity listened in amazement as Candace rattled on with her plans. It had been so long since Candace had shown enthusiasm for anything that Felicity was slightly overwhelmed. But Candace's excitement was contagious, and soon Felicity caught it.

This was, after all, her baby, too, her very own child. Fora moment she tried to imagine holding it in her arms, touching it, kissing it, suckling it at her breast. She already loved this nameless, faceless being, and he-or she-would love her in return, with complete devotion, whether or not his father did. Why should she torture herself wishing for something she did not have when she did have something so wonderful? The joy she had felt initially came flooding back as she and Candace made their plans.

If Joshua did not love her, she would always have his child. They would both love the baby, and Joshua was bound to be pleased with her when he saw how she cared for his son. Who knew, he might even come to love her after all.


"Sounds like we have company," Josh remarked, rising from his wingbacked chair to see who had come to visit them.

Felicity glanced up from her sewing and listened intently. After a moment she, too, heard the sound of a wagon in the yard. With a weary sigh, she laid aside her work and began the laborious process of hauling her heavy body out of the elaborately carved rocking chair that Joshua had ordered specially for her. The baby protested the movement with a violent kick to her ribs that left her breathless. Gingerly rubbing her side, Felicity could not help but smile. Little Joshua, as she liked to think of him, was particularly restless today. Perhaps he would soon be making his appearance. The thought both elated and terrified her.

As much as she longed to hold her baby in her arms-and have the ordeal of pregnancy be over-she could hardly stand the thought of childbirth with its unknown terrors. Odd how the endless scorching summer months now seemed to have flown by, bringing all too quickly the day when her child would be born. Felicity shivered, but not from the cold. Even though November would soon be over, the weather was still holding, so they had not yet even needed a fire in the evening.

"It's Blanche," Josh reported from his position by the front window.

"Of course," Felicity replied with amusement. Who else would it be? Blanche had visited her every Sunday afternoon since learning of her pregnancy. Lately, she had begun visiting at least once and sometimes twice during the week, too. Felicity had been grateful for those visits. Blanche's never-failing good cheer had helped her over more than one rough spot. She could never feel sorry for herself very long with Blanche around.

Unfortunately, Felicity had an alarming tendency to feel very sorry for herself, a tendency that came more frequently as her body grew larger. The bulkier she got, the less Joshua smiled at her. Not that he mistreated her or anything. He was still as attentive and thoughtful as ever. More so, if the truth were told.

But he simply did not want her anymore. She knew because they hadn't made love in months.

Now, of course, making love was out of the question. She was too far along. But even back when they had been able to, he had hardly ever touched her. Just as she had suspected, his consuming passion for her died the moment he learned she had conceived.

"Anybody home?" Blanche called from outside.

Josh opened the front door and stood back to allow Felicity to pass before him. "You'd better put your shawl on. It's cool out there," he advised, reaching for it.

Felicity swallowed the bitterness that rose like bile in her throat and turned so he could place the wrap around her shoulders. He was being considerate, she told herself. Yes, he couldn't let anything happen to his child, another voice replied mockingly. Shaking off her tormenting thoughts, Felicity pinned a little smile to her lips and walked slowly out onto the porch to greet her guest.

As usual, Blanche was dressed outrageously. Today she wore emerald-green watered silk. Felicity knew a moment's envy as she noted Blanche's wasp waist above the enormous bustle. Soon, she reminded herself. Very soon.

"What's the matter with you, Joshua?" Blanche demanded as she traipsed regally up the stairs. "Don't you ever feed this girl? Look at her! She looks like a string with a knot tied in it."

"A very large knot," Felicity said, placing both hands on her protruding stomach and forcing a smile.

"Oh, she eats, all right," Josh replied. "Candace says she eats so much it makes her poorly to carry it around."

Felicity glanced up in surprise at the odd tone of his voice. He was smiling, but the smile was as strained as hers. Then she saw Blanche reach out and pat his arm in a comforting gesture. "It won't be much longer now," Blanche said, but she said it to Josh, her voice soft and soothing.

The tears that were always too ready to fall nowadays sprang to her eyes. Her husband hated the way she looked, and her friend sympathized with him. Turning quickly so they would not see her crying, Felicity endeavored to make her voice sound as cheerful as possible. "Let's go inside. It's getting cold out here." She made a little business about blowing her nose once she got in the house.

"You aren't coming down with something, are you?" Blanche asked with concern.

"No, no. It's just the weather. I guess we'll need a fire tonight. Come and sit down. How have you been?" Felicity babbled, leading the way to where the chairs were grouped before the hearth.

"I'm fine, as usual," Blanche replied thoughtfully, studying Felicity intently. "The important question is, how are you?"

"Oh, fine as usual," Felicity mimicked, easing herself down into the rocking chair.

Blanche watched her before taking her own seat on the settee. Joshua, she noticed, stood hovering over Felicity until the girl was comfortably settled. Poor Joshua. If his hair hadn't already been white, this pregnancy would have turned it. He was scared to death, although Blanche doubted he would ever admit such a thing, even to himself. He probably hadn't even admitted how much he loved his wife. Blanche could tell, though. The way his eyes anxiously followed the girl's every move, the way he listened to her speak, even the way he hardly ever smiled anymore, all that and more told Blanche everything she needed to know.

Unfortunately, Felicity did not know, and she did not seem inclined to believe Blanche on the subject even though Blanche had often tried to convince her. Sometimes, like right now, Blanche had the urge to knock their heads together just to see if she could pound some sense into them. She sighed. Maybe after the baby came… "Have you settled on the names yet? You don't have too much more time left," Blanche said, falling easily into her role of entertaining visitor. Head pounding would have to wait.

As the afternoon waned, Felicity felt her mood lighten. Blanche's presence always seemed to have that effect on her. Although she did not like to admit it, she hated being alone with Joshua. His solicitude drove her to distraction, making her feel more like a prized brood mare than a wife.

And sometimes the baby made her feel like a brood mare, too, she admitted with a small smile, shifting to find a more comfortable position in the rocking chair her husband had insisted that she needed. But nothing seemed to appease little Joshua. He squirmed with renewed vigor. Feeling every bit like a turtle on its back, Felicity began the struggle of rising from her chair in hopes of easing her child's cramped position.

Blanche noticed her difficulties but had the grace not to comment on them. Felicity did not even look at Joshua for fear of seeing disgust on his face at her graceless movements. Once on her feet, she placed her hands on the small of her back and stretched to ease the aches that plagued her. The baby went still for a moment, as if grateful for the release her new posture gave him. And then he lurched.

Felicity cried out as she fell to her knees.

"Felicity!"

"Lissy!"

The voices called to her in unison, but she barely heard them.

"Are you all right?"

"What happened?"

Gentle hands grasped her, lifted her, and she was sitting in her rocking chair again. "I fell," she murmured in wonder, examining her reddened palms and noticing the way her knees throbbed from the impact.

"What happened, honey?" Blanche's voice cut into her wonderment. "You were just standing there and…"

"The baby turned over," Felicity reported, checking first Blanche's and then Joshua's expressions to see if they believed her. They did not seem to. "At least, that's what it felt like," she amended, not willing to trust her own judgment just yet. "He was wiggling around, and when I stood up, he just flipped."

"Do you hurt anywhere?" Josh asked. He looked down at her frail figure so overburdened by his child and experienced an overwhelming sense of helplessness. How foolish he had been to think he could protect her. The dangers she faced came from things he had no hope of controlling.

"My knees; I think I skinned them," she admitted reluctantly. She hated drawing further attention to her clumsiness, but her knees really did hurt.

"Well, that's not too bad," Josh said with false heartiness, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. The thought that she might really have injured herself was making him sick to his stomach. "I'll get Candace. She'll know what to do." Eager for some privacy in which to regain control of his emotions, he hurried from the room.

"No, that's not too bad," Felicity echoed bitterly, wondering how he might have reacted if her fall had harmed the child in. some way.

"Felicity," Blanche said, drawing her attention. "Remember that I promised I'd stay with you when the baby came, to help Candace?"

Felicity nodded. There was no doctor, and Candace was the closest thing to a midwife in the area. Blanche would assist her when the time came.

"Well, I was just thinking. Maybe I'd better go ahead and pack up a few things and come over here to stay. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if that baby dropped out just any time now." Blanche smiled at her crude jest, but Felicity could see she was only trying to cover a genuine concern.

"Of course," Felicity readily agreed. "I'll tell Candace to fix up the guest room for you." Although what Joshua might think of the arrangements was something else again, Felicity thought. He seemed to appreciate Blanche's visits, even though he had made it clear he disapproved of her in many ways, but having her under the same roof twenty-four hours a day might be more than he could take.

"What's this I hear about you not being able to stand up straight anymore?" Candace demanded cheerfully when she bustled into the room a few moments later.

"The baby knocked her clean over," Blanche reported, stepping back to allow Candace room to work. She was carrying a small basin and a jar of salve. "I never saw anything like it."

"From the looks of her, I wouldn't be surprised if that baby comes out half-grown," Candace said, kneeling in front of Felicity.

Felicity watched them, listening to their banter with suspicion. Their mouths were smiling, but their eyes were clouded with worry. Was something wrong? She really did not want to know. She closed her own eyes so she would not have to see them exchanging meaningful glances.

Candace lifted Felicity's skirt to examine her knees, and then gently bathed the scrapes with a soft cloth. "Did you feel anything pull or tear when you fell?" she asked with creditable nonchalance.

Felicity squinched her eyes more tightly shut. "No," she said, trying not to listen to the voice inside her head that was reminding her how they only cared about the baby.

"Thank God," she heard Blanche whisper.

"Is she all right?" Felicity heard Joshua's voice ask, but she still did not open her eyes. She could not bear to see his frowning disapproval.

Candace lowered Felicity's skirt over her treated knees. "She might have a few bruises, but nothing serious. You'll be fine," she added, patting Felicity's hand reassuringly.

"Joshua, I was thinking I'd bring my stuff on over, so I'll be here when…" Blanche let her voice trail off, making Felicity wince again. Why didn't she say it outright?

"That's fine," Josh said so fervently that Felicity's eyes popped open at last. "If you leave now, you can be back before dark."

Felicity watched in growing horror as Joshua escorted Blanche out onto the porch. He shut the door behind them and called to someone to get Mrs. Delano's buggy ready. Then they stood on the porch for a long time, whispering to each other. Felicity could see them through the window, could see Blanche touching Joshua's arm with a tenderness that sent pain stabbing through her heart. Was that what the veiled looks were about? Was that why Joshua had not made love to her in months? Was that why he was so glad Blanche was coming to stay in their very house?

"Honey, why are you crying?" Candace asked solicitously. "Were you lying? Did you really hurt yourself in that fall?"

Felicity shook her head, hating the tears over which she no longer seemed to have any control. "I… I'm just tired. I think I'll lie down for a while."

Out on the porch, Blanche patted Josh's arm comfortingly. "She's not hurt. You have to be thankful for that."

Josh sighed wearily. "Yeah, I'm thankful this time," he said bitterly. "But what about next time? You said yourself the baby might not come for another two or three weeks. She's so tiny…" He let his voice trail off, unable to allow himself to complete the thought. How would he bear it if something happened to her?

"We'll take good care of her, Joshua. I promise you that," Blanche said, giving his arm a squeeze. "And I don't think it's going to be another two or three weeks anymore. Why do you think I'm moving over here tonight?"

Later, alone in her darkened room, Felicity heard Blanche returning. Although they were quite obviously taking great pains not to disturb her, she heard every move they made as Joshua carried in her luggage. Felicity even heard Blanche tell him, "Don't worry. This baby will be here before you know it, and then everything will be fine."

Fine for whom, Felicity wondered as the jealousy festered in her heart.


Josh opened the bedroom door carefully and listened a moment to the quiet regularity of her breathing. She was asleep. Letting out the breath he had been holding, he slipped silently into the room and began to undress in the dark. As his eyes became accustomed to the dimness, he could make out the small mound of her body beneath the covers. He shuddered slightly as he recalled the sight of that body hurtling to the floor. He had been more frightened in that moment than he had ever been in his life. Thank God she had not been hurt.

Naked, he slid into th &bed beside her, trying not to disturb her rest. She stirred and murmured something indistinguishable in her sleep, but she did not waken. Josh lay rigid, willing his body to relax while he tried vainly to ignore the sweet woman-scent of her body so close to his.

How long had it been since he had made love to her? So painful was the thought that his mind rebelled at even making the calculation. The only time he dared to embrace her anymore was when she awoke terrified from one of her nightmares. Guiltily, he found himself wishing she would have one now. His arms ached to hold her so he could reassure himself that she was really all right.

After a long session of internal debate, Josh swore softly and reached for her. What would it hurt if he held her? She would not even know. As if to belie that theory, she made a soft purring noise as she snuggled against his warmth. Josh turned on his side so the huge swell of her stomach was pressed against his belly. He felt a small ripple of movement as his child shifted inside her body and then went still again.

Josh closed his eyes, trying to block out Blanche's warnings. She was worried, and so was Candace. The baby was big, perhaps too big, and Felicity was so small. She would have a difficult time.

What had he done to her?

A man never considered the consequences when he took his pleasure, never considered what perils his seed might cause the woman he loved. And Josh did love her, more than he loved the land, more than he loved his child, even more than he loved his own life. The realization should have surprised him, but it did not. Perhaps he had known it all along, from the very beginning. At the time he had justified his feelings by calling them desire. He did desire her, more than he could ever explain or understand, but there was much more to it than that.

He smiled in the darkness, remembering his vow never to fall in love with her, as if he could have avoided such a thing by mere strength of will. And how much easier this would be if he had been able to. He shuddered again, drawing her closer and burying his face in the silken cloud of her hair. "Please, God…" he whispered into the night.


Felicity awoke suddenly, blinking in the darkness, trying to determine what had awakened her. Usually, it was her bladder demanding to be emptied, but tonight, she realized with growing humiliation, she had not been quick enough. Her nightdress clung wetly to her legs, and the bedclothes were soaked.

She lay there long moments wondering how she could hide such an embarrassing situation from her husband, who was still sleeping soundly beside her. No plan came readily to mind, since sooner or later he would awaken and discover the wet bedding. Reluctantly, she reached over and shook him gently.

"Mr. Logan," she said, resolutely refusing to call him by his given name. She had not done so since the last time he had made love to her, and she certainly was not going to start now, under the present conditions. "Mr. Logan, wake up."

"Wha… What is it?" he asked, rearing up in alarm.

Glad for the darkness that hid her mortification, Felicity tried to explain. "The bed is all wet, and you have to get up so I can change it… Ohhhh!" The pain struck with the force of a sledgehammer, curling her into a tight ball of agony.

"Lissy, what is it? What's wrong?" His voice sounded panicked, but she was only vaguely aware of his distress.

"I… I don't know…" she panted as the pain eased, ebbing as if it had never been. "I got this pain…"

Frantically, Josh tried to remember what she had been saying the moment before the pain had come. The bed was wet. Yes, that was it. Swiftly, he ran his hand beneath the covers, finding the dampness under her body. It was the baby. The baby was coming.

"Blanche!" he called, knowing she was the closest. "Blanche, come quick!"

Blanche was the last person Felicity wanted to have informed of her incontinence, but before she could protest, another pain stabbed through her, leaving her speechless.

Josh threw off the covers and jumped out of bed to search the bedside table for a match with which to light the lamp. He could hear noises from across the house, so he knew Blanche was on her way. He found the matches just as the bedroom door burst open.

"What's wrong?" Blanche's voice asked into the darkness.

"The baby's coming," Josh reported, striking a match and fumbling for the lamp.

Felicity caught a glimpse of Blanche hurriedly tying the sash of a red silk robe before she closed her eyes against the glare of the lamp and the ferocity of the pain.

"The bed is wet and she's having pains," Joshua's voice said.

"Is it bad, honey?" Blanche inquired next to her ear.

Felicity could only nod. Then, mercifully, the pain subsided once again, leaving her limp and exhausted. She turned frightened eyes to Blanche and was relieved to find her smiling.

"Now, what a lucky thing I decided to come today. See, I told you the baby would be coming soon, but this is even sooner than I expected," she reported cheerfully.

"The… the baby?" Felicity asked, not daring to believe the time had arrived. "But it's too early…"

"Babies know the right time to be born," Blanche said authoritatively. "Your water's already broken, and you're in labor. It's too late to worry about the timing anyway."

Felicity considered her statement, putting all the clues together. How stupid she had been not to guess immediately. Now they would add that to her list of shortcomings, right underneath clumsiness. She wanted to weep.

"Joshua, you'd better go get Candace," Blanche suggested, turning toward him and getting a good look at him for the first time since he had lighted the lamp. "But first you'd better put on your pants," she added with a comic leer at his still-naked body.

Josh swore, quickly turning his back and snatching up the jeans he had discarded earlier.

Aghast, Felicity watched him pulling on the jeans and then lifted her gaze to Blanche once again. The older woman winked and grinned. "New fathers sometimes go a little crazy," she explained wickedly. Before Felicity could respond to such an outrageous remark, the pain came again, claiming all her strength and all her attention.

Time passed. She knew because she could measure its passing by how many times her body convulsed with agony. Then, just when she thought she could bear it no longer, the pains ceased as abruptly as they had begun.

Sometime during her ordeal, Candace had come in and banished Joshua to the parlor. Then Candace and Blanche had changed Felicity's nightdress and stripped the bed and made all the necessary preparations for the birthing. Now they all waited. Minutes ticked by, but Felicity's body remained still.

"It stopped," Felicity said in wonder, not certain if she should be alarmed or relieved.

Candace ran a practiced hand over Felicity's distended belly. "It'll start again real soon. Better get some rest while you can," she advised, pulling a blanket over her.

Unable to refuse, Felicity fell into an exhausted slumber. There she met the man in black, who began to chase her and call her name. This time he had a knife, an enormous knife, and she couldn't run because the baby was too heavy. She fell, and when she looked up, he was looming over her, holding the blade over his head with both hands. She tried to scream but he plunged it into her, ripping her body apart. Her scream of terror woke her to new agonies. The knife had only been a dream, but the pain was all too real, tearing at her body until she thought she might really split in two. Blanche and Candace held her while she writhed, and although she begged them to help her, they only stood and stared, their faces grim.

Out in the parlor, Josh awoke with a start. He was cold and stiff and his neck ached from the awkward way he was resting his head against the side of the wingbacked chair. For a moment he could not recall why he was sleeping in the chair, and then he heard it, that horrible, blood-chilling cry of anguish. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and every muscle tensed in response. He wanted to do something, to fight something, to somehow save her from this awful torment. His hands closed into fists as frustration overwhelmed him. The cry came again, slicing into his soul until he could have cried out himself.

Candace had told him to leave, to go off someplace where he couldn't hear what was happening. Every instinct for self-preservation demanded that he follow her advice, that he get on his horse and ride away until the screams faded into silence. But another, stronger instinct kept him here. He had to protect Felicity, to keep her safe. Although he was powerless to protect her in this instance, he could not resist the need to be with her, or at least as nearby as he was allowed. He could no more have left her than he could have left his own body.

Her scream came again, and he covered his face with both hands. Listening was torture, pure and simple, but he would not leave. He had shared the pleasure. Now he would share the pain.

Dawn broke and Felicity's torment ceased again, allowing her to rest once more, only to awaken to new tortures. The cycle repeated itself over and over. Day became night and then became day again. Felicity's world narrowed until it included only moments with pain and moments without. Nothing else mattered. During the moments without, she slipped into some sort of netherworld that could not really be called sleep but which, mercifully, was not consciousness either. People came and went in the room, but she no longer knew or cared who they were er what they did. She even forgot why she was here. All that mattered was when the next pain would come and whether she could live through it.

Josh paced restlessly across the parlor as he waited for the screams to start again. In the past thirty-six hours, he had all but worn a path across the large room as he sought some outlet for his frustration. He did not know which was worse, her screams or the silence. He knew the cycle by now and knew not to trust the quiet. Soon her torment would begin anew, and the sound of it would tear his soul into ragged shreds. More than once he had gone to the bedroom door, ready to fling it open and do battle with the invisible demons that tortured her. Each time he had caught himself at the last moment and forced himself to think rationally about his own helplessness. But still he knew that urge to help, and it kept him pacing anxiously, even after two sleepless nights.

The bedroom door opened and Blanche appeared. Hope soared in him for a moment. Could the silence mean…? "The baby?" he asked.

But Blanche shook her head. "Not yet." She pulled the door closed behind her and came toward him. The expression on her face sent cold chills racing down his spine.

"Felicity?" he asked reluctantly.

"She's resting now," Blanche assured him, seeing his anxiety. "But that won't last long. In a few minutes, the pains will start again."

He nodded, turning away and running a hand over his face in despair. "How much more of this can she take?"

"Not much," Blanche said, verifying his worst fears. "Josh, the baby is close to being born. We can see its head. We've been able to see it for hours, but it just won't come. We think it's because she is so small and the baby is so big."

Josh nodded again, not daring to face her lest she see the tears gathering in his eyes.

"If this keeps up," Blanche continued, "she'll die. They'll both die."

Rage exploded in his chest, fury over the injustice of it and over his own impotence. He whirled on Blanche. "Can't you do something?" he demanded, striding toward her. "Can't you help her?"

Blanche winced as his hands closed over her arms in a bone-crushing grip. "There's one thing," she told him, "but we need your help."

That shocked him so much that his hands went slack and she was able to break free of his grasp. "My help?" he repeated incredulously.

Blanche nodded, rubbing her upper arms where he had bruised them. "I saw it once, when I was a kid," she said, not bothering to add that the event had occurred in the brothel where she'd been raised. "This woman had been in labor for days, but the baby just wouldn't come. The midwife finally just pushed the baby out herself."

"Pushed it out? How?" Josh asked, horrified at the very thought.

Blanche swallowed, knowing how awful the thing she was going to suggest would sound to him. "The midwife straddled the woman, and every time she had a contraction, the midwife pushed on the baby until it finally came out."

Josh covered his face with both hands, unable even to consider such a thing. But Blanche could not let him escape. "It will hurt her, Josh," she said urgently, grabbing him the way he had grabbed her moments ago. "There's no use pretending that it won't, but if we don't do it, she's going to die. We can't pretend about that anymore either."

Josh shuddered at the horror of it. "All right," he said, his voice flat with acceptance of the unacceptable. "Do what you have to do."

Blanche swallowed again. "Josh, you have to help us. You… you have to do the pushing."

"No!"

"Yes, Josh, you have to," Blanche insisted, shaking him slightly as if to dislodge him from his decision. "I have to guide the baby out because I have the smallest hands, and Candace just doesn't have the strength. She's exhausted, and her hand…" She stopped when she realized Josh understood that he had no alternative. Candace's cut hand had healed poorly so that she had little use of it now. No one else could do the job.

Josh gazed down at Blanche's drawn face, absently noting the dark smudges under her eyes from two sleepless nights. If she looked so awful, how much must Felicity be suffering? But how much more would she suffer if he…

Felicity's scream pierced the silence and his heart. He couldn't let this go on. He couldn't just stand by and let her die, not when he had it in his power at last to help her. He closed his eyes over the agony of his decision. "I'll do it," he said at last.

Blanche sighed with one second of relief before pulling him into the bedroom. "Take your boots off and wash your hands. Then I'll show you what to do."

Josh froze in the doorway as he saw Felicity for the first time in two nights. She was lying on the bed, her beautiful hair matted and tangled, her nightdress clinging damply to her sweat-soaked skin. Her whole body was arched as she strained against the contraction. Suddenly she went limp, her breath ragged and uneven as she waited for the next onslaught. How could he…

"Josh, your boots," Blanche urged, guiding him to a chair and forcing him down on it. "Hurry."

Deep in the dark tunnel of her pain, Felicity heard his voice. She was dreaming; she knew she was. She had called for him a hundred times, but he had never come before. With great effort, she lifted her weighted eyelids to find him standing over her. He had come! He was really here! He would help her; she knew he would. "Joshua!" she cried, surprised when her voice came out as little more than a hoarse whisper. He did not reply, and he had such an odd expression on his face that Felicity wondered whether he had even heard her.

He heard her. He saw the trust, the hope in her pain-filled eyes, and he knew that she thought he had come to save her. How could he cause her even more pain? In that one moment, he would gladly have died himself rather than increase her suffering. Unfortunately, he did not have that choice.

"Joshua, hurry!" Blanche urged.

Yes, hurry, Felicity thought. Please, I want this to be over. To her amazement, Joshua climbed onto the bed beside her. On his knees, looking down at her, he reached out and stroked her cheek. "I'm sorry, Lissy," he said, and even his voice sounded odd, not like him at all, almost as if he were choking on something. "We've got to get the baby out."

Her brain was sluggish, so it took her a minute to sort out the meaning of his words. By then he had straddled her body. In the last second before the next pain overwhelmed her, she felt his hands on her abdomen and realized his intent. "No!" she screamed, but he did not stop. A searing agony tore through her as some solid part of her gave way to this irresistible force.

"It's coming!" Blanche cried. "The head's almost out! Once more, Joshua!"

Felicity could hear Candace's voice, a continuous drone far off in the distance. Vaguely, she realized the black woman was praying. But for whom? The baby, of course, that strange voice in her head reported. They all want to save the baby. Didn't Joshua say so? He was sorry, but they had to get the baby out.

Again her muscles tautened, and again his cruel hands bore down with excruciating force. Tides of blackness washed over her, tempting her to sink into them, to escape the pain.

"Oh, dear God," Blanche said, her voice faint and very far away.

"Lissy! Felicity!" Josh called, but she could not reply.


* * *

Asa Gordon glanced around the large table at the happy family group gathered for the evening meal. He was smiling his "perfect guest" smile, but all day he had been unable to shake a nagging feeling of uneasiness. Instinct told him that something was wrong, although he had no idea what it could be.

"My wife tells me that you're looking for your sister," Harry Fitzsimmons said. Harry owned the ranch Asa had come across this afternoon. Mrs. Fitzsimmons had invited him to supper and to stay the night. Actually, her invitation had been for as long as he wished to remain. Although he was sorely tempted to linger in the comfort of the Fitzsimmonses' home, Asa knew he would be moving on in the morning.

"Not exactly, Harry," Asa explained patiently. "You see, Claire passed on several years ago. It's her daughter I'm trying to find. My niece, Felicity Storm."

The Fitzsimmonses had eleven children, and every one of them was listening attentively to the story, so Asa decided to indulge them. "You see, our father did not approve of the man Claire married, so the two of them ran away. We haven't heard from them in years, not since Felicity was just a baby. Caleb, my brother-in-law, works as a traveling photographer, so keeping track of them was impossible."

"Then, last year, our father passed away," Asa continued, pausing for just the right amount of filial regret and enjoying for a moment the rapt attention the Fitzsimmonses were paying him. He was, he realized suddenly, getting awfully skillful with his lying. These stories seemed to burst, fullblown, from his lips without any conscious forethought. The idea disturbed him, but he did not let it show.

He cleared his throat and began again. "Our father passed away, and he left Felicity quite a handsome settlement. His last wish was that I find her and make sure she gets it." Asa concluded his story by lowering his eyes in humility.

"That's a very noble sentiment, Mr. Gordon," Mrs.

Fitzsimmons said. Plainly, the rest of the family thought so, too.

Asa shrugged modestly. "Unfortunately, it seems I'm doomed to failure, ma'am. Nobody in Texas has seen hide nor hair of them or their wagon for almost a year."

"What does the wagon look like?" the oldest Fitzsimmons daughter asked.

Something in her tone warned Asa that her question was more than idle curiosity. He described the wagon, but he waited vainly for any hint that she recognized having seen it before. Asa did notice that she was unusually quiet throughout the remainder of the meal. Perhaps she knew something more. Perhaps he would spend a few days at the ranch after all, just to make certain.

But he did not have to. After supper, the girl brought one of the cowboys to him.

"Slim here thinks he saw a wagon like the one you described," she informed him after making the introductions. "I thought I remembered him telling me about it, but I wanted to make sure before I said anything to you."

For the first time in many long months, Asa felt a surge of excitement, even though common sense warned him not to be too hopeful. "When did you see the wagon, and what did it look like?" Asa asked carefully.

Slim squinted his homely face as he tried to remember. "I think it was late last winter sometime. After Christmas; I know that for a fact," he began. "The wagon looked like one of them army wagons. You know the kind, with the high sides and a wooden roof."

"An ambulance," Asa supplied.

"Yeah, that's it," Slim said. "It had pictures painted on it, mountains and trees, that kind of stuff. And some fancy writing. A long word that started with a B or a P. I disremember which."

Asa was hard-pressed not to whoop with glee. Still, the sighting was months old. "Did you see the people?"

Slim nodded. "A man and a girl; his daughter, I reckoned. I rode up to see if they needed help. They were mighty skittish. I told them if they were drummers to come on over to the ranch, that everybody'd be glad to see them."

"What did they say?"

Slim shrugged. "They said they were in a hurry and wouldn't have time to stop."

"Did they say where they were going?"

"No, they didn't say," Slim reported, "but I saw their tracks a few days later. They headed south."

Asa realized on some level that he must be hard up indeed to be so delighted over such a small and ancient kernel of information. But the fact remained that it was far more than he had discovered in all his months of scouring the state of Texas for clues.

"What's south of here, Slim?" he asked, already making plans.

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