Well, I'm sorry a good portion of you weren't pleased with my last chapter; however, I'm still proud of it. I may not have been spot-on in character, but I do find Adam a much less of a pushover than Little Joe when it comes to parenting. And of course, as I said before my last chapter, none of us has ever really seen the Cartwrights as parents, so we can only write how we each believe they would react and handle difference situations. True, Anne Marie is not Adam's child, but the entire family has had a hand in raising her, so they each have a right to deal with her as they deem appropriate. Adam specifically needed to deal with her this time around because she was having a problem with him, not Little Joe, and he needed to address it. I also don't think Adam was too hard on her. He punished her accordingly but he also assured her of his love and returned to his tender nature after he was assured that she had gotten the message. Remember, she had had a talking-to once before from her father and it proved to be quite inconsequential. The biggest thing I wanted to do with the last chapter was show the difference in Adam and Joe's parenting styles. I certainly didn't mean to portray Adam as heartless or unforgiving of his niece, because, like the rest of you, I don't believe he ever would be. I'm sorry if some of you got that impression, but I hope you will continue to read on. This chapter should be a doozy. I want to give a special thank you to all my readers who enjoyed and supported the way I wrote the last chapter. It was nice to know it wasn't a total failure, but i certainly welcome all of the constructive criticism I receive as well. All good writers need both to improve. :)

Chapter 21

Ben and Joe were waiting downstairs when Anne Marie entered the main room. Joe immediately wrapped the child up in his arms, lifting her legs off the floor and pressing his cold cheek to her warm one. However, once her feet were on solid ground again, Anne Marie wasted no time in gathering the assembly together to apologize for her embarrassing behavior. Throughout her speech, Little Joe eyed his older brother, standing at the foot of the stairs. Adam returned his inquisitive glances with a nod, corroborating the man's suspicion that he had already punished her justly, and the spoon in his hand only served as additional confirmation. There was no need for Joe to punish the girl any further. Ordinarily he would have felt his authority usurped, but somehow a great peace washed over him when he realized that Adam had already handled the situation. He had every right to punish her, not only because he was the one with whom Anne Marie had been upset but also because he had an equal hand in her upbringing. The four men had raised her together, and while Little Joe would always maintain certain paternal rights that were his alone, discipline was not one of them.

Everyone readily accepted Anne Marie's contrition, which was reciprocated with hugs all around. Rachel was elated to have her friend back, and so was Anne Marie. She hadn't realized how lonely it was without her. When Matthew squeezed her tight, sharing in the Cartwrights' relief that she was back safe and sound, Anne Marie felt her cheeks reddening again as they had at the funeral. She didn't understand this involuntary reaction, but it made her want to fly up the stairs to put on a prettier dress and brush her ragged hair. But there was no time for that now. She was in Hoss's embrace, then Ben's, and then Rachel was placing Dinah in her arms, who immediately began nosing her chin affectionately.

The gloom of the morning had passed, and now the house was one of celebration, despite the raging storm outside. Hop Sing had roasted a duck, Rachel had prepared the potatoes and greens, and together the two had baked and iced a beautiful chocolate cake for dessert. After supper Adam, Anne Marie, and Rachel regaled the company with a sing-along, and the look he bestowed upon his niece as they sang together provided that last, lingering bit of assurance she lacked. He was beaming, and she knew then that all was forgiven.

"I'm very proud of you, Anne Marie," he whispered in her ear later that night, just before bed. Then he kissed her cheek and wrapped his arms tight about her middle. "Your mother would be proud of you too."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Really."

The child smiled so brightly he felt compelled to kiss her once more, and after returning the gesture she proceeded on upstairs, confident that all was once again right with the world.

The next morning Anne Marie greeted a Ponderosa quite different from the one she had welcomed the day before. The world outside her window was disguised in a thick blanket of icy fluff and a considerable chill ran through the house. Still, there was a large mug of hot chocolate waiting for her when she finally slid out of bed and traipsed downstairs, and Hoss stood by the hearth, stoking up a great fire that soon engulfed the cold with its heat. After a hearty breakfast, she and Rachel helped each other into their respective coats and prepared for a morning of play in the snow. In the afternoon, the family was going for a sleigh ride – all except Adam, that is. He had saddled up early and ridden into town. The previous day's search hadn't afforded him the time to visit Diana, and his heart ached to see her. The trip took slightly longer than usual in the snow, but soon enough he was rapping smartly upon the schoolmarm's door, if only for the sake of courtesy. He was accustomed to letting himself in after waiting a minute or two, just in case Mrs. Jenkins was about. However, on this particular morning it wasn't the nurse who answered his knock but Diana herself, pulling back the door to welcome the awestruck cowboy.

"Diana." Adam was only one word shy of speechless, for he merely stood there on the threshold, blinking dumbly at her slender form.

"It's good to see you, Adam," she said with an amused smirk. "Won't you come in? It frightfully cold and I'm sure you could use a good, strong cup of hot coffee. I've just put the kettle on."

He managed to get both feet in the door as she closed it behind him.

"Can I take your hat?"

He removed it mechanically and handed it to her.

"And your coat? You will stay a while, won't you?"

He unbuttoned his thick winter coat, which she hung, along with his hat, on a freestanding rack by the door.

"Please have a seat, Adam. I'll just be a minute," she said, and with that disappeared into the kitchen.

But Adam didn't move into the parlor to sit; he followed her into the kitchen, leaning against the doorjamb as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. He eyes devoured her every move as she flitted about the room from the stove where the kettle was whistling to the hutch in the corner where she kept the fine china. Then she moved to table where a tray awaited, and taking the kettle off the stove she promptly poured two cups of steaming coffee.

"Well, don't just stand there," she said without lifting her head. "You haven't said a word since you entered this house. You didn't come all the way from the Ponderosa just to look at me, did you?"

"I don't think that's a fair question," Adam said finally, and he saw Diana's cheeks flush and a knowing grin spread across her lips. "I'm merely surprised to see you up and about."

"My fever broke yesterday afternoon." She stood up, the tray in her hands, but he quickly stepped in and took it from her, noting the shaky way in which the object teetered in her grasp. "I suppose I'm still pretty weak."

"You shouldn't be out of bed."

"I've been confined to that bed for six days now, Adam. I couldn't stand it a minute longer. If I'm well enough to make it down the stairs I suppose I'll be well enough to climb back up them in a few hours."

He chuckled as they walked into the parlor, setting the tray on a small table that stood before the settee, then he sat down beside her. "It's good to see you on your feet again," he said, handing the first saucer to her before claiming the second as his own and bringing it to his lips.

She nodded.

"I'll bring Rachel with me tomorrow. She's eager to see you, and I promised I'd take her along when you were feeling better."

Diana's cheeks beamed and her mouth broke out in a shimmering smile. "Oh, thank you, Adam! I wanted to send Mrs. Jenkins for her the second my fever broke, but I knew it wouldn't be wise. If there's any chance I'm still contagious I could never forgive myself if she caught typhoid too."

"She should stay on at the Ponderosa until you get your strength back," Adam concurred, and she nodded once again.

"I know you're right; I'm just ready to put all this behind us. I miss the school and the children. I miss simply getting to step outside my front door, no matter how cold it is. The snow looks so lovely."

He smiled softly upon her. "I know the children will be glad to have you back when you return."

"I'm sure they've enjoyed having you too," she said, returning his tender expression with one of her own and reaching her hand out to touch his ever so timidly.

"I'm simply a substitute. You are their teacher, Diana, and I could never replace you." He wrapped his fingers around her tiny white hand and caressed it in his large, warm one.

"You flatter me, Adam."

"It isn't flattery if it's the truth," he said, leaning in closer still, "and I would never lie to you."

"I know," she said, her voice now barely above a whisper. She was staring into his eyes, unable to break her gaze, her face mere inches from his.

"Diana, you're worthy of all the praise I could ever give you. Never have I met a woman more deserving of my admiration," he said, and then he kissed her, taking her trembling form in his arms and wrapping them about her. The feel of his muscles rubbing against the fabric of his shirt, as if it were straining only slightly under their bulge, both excited and comforted her as they surrounded her. The warmth of his lips quelled the quiver in her heart, and she kissed him back, eager to reciprocate his affection with her own.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that," he said when their lips finally parted, though his arms still held her close.

"You don't know how long I've wanted you to," she replied.

"I want you to be my wife, Diana."

"Oh, Adam." She squirmed out of his embrace then, turning her face away somewhat sorrowfully.

The man cocked a quizzical eyebrow. "What is it?"

She could feel tears forming in her eyes, but she brushed them aside with resolve, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her left ear. "Doctor Martin examined me this morning, and even though I'm doing much better he said the disease took more of a toll on my body than he expected. He doesn't know if I'll ever fully recover."

"What'd he say?"

"He, he told me that I won't be able to have any more children."

It was the last thing Adam had expected to hear, and for a moment he didn't know how to react. He simply sat there, watching the tears she had tried so hard to fight trickle silently down her cheeks as her resolve melted under the heat of her grief. A vision of Anne Marie as a small child appeared before him, seated on Little Joe's lap on the sofa, her face nuzzled into his chest. He himself had shared many of these same moments with the young girl, but nothing could ever change the fact that she was not his daughter. The thought that he might never know the same joy of parenthood that sparkled both in both his brother and his father's eyes was unbearable. And yet, the thought of spending the remainder of his life without Diana was equally agonizing. This news, no matter how tragic, could not change the way he felt about her.

Coming to his senses, Adam suddenly realized that she was crying and reached out his hands to take hers, drawing her near once again.

"I don't care," he said.

She sniffled. "Wh-what?"

"I don't care if we can't have children. I love you, Diana, and I want you to be my wife."

"But, Adam-"

"We have Rachel to give all our love. You said yourself that she needs a father. I don't want to replace Gilbert, in her heart or yours, but I do love her as if she were my own, and I love you so much that for the first time in my life I can't seem to find the words to describe it."

"When Gilbert died I thought I'd never love again," Diana said, "but I can't imagine living another day without you."

"You will never have to," Adam said, and with that he cupped her chin in his hands, bent his head low, and kissed her again.