JASON

Jason stood at the railing of the Shamus O'Flynn, staring into the moonlight on the water. The sea breeze gently tugged at his curls that were already in disarray from a day of blustery wind. Under Jason's eyes were dark circles, a testament to long, endless nights brooding over a glass of scotch. He should have found some peace by now, but it just wouldn't come.

The sheriff knew little about Laurie himself, but he had proven helpful when he gave him the name of the doctor who had overseen Laurie's treatment in San Francisco. It had taken a lot of persuasion and scotch to get Clancey to wait a couple of days until he could finally catch the man at the hospital where he worked, but it had been worth it. The doctor hadn't had many patients like Laurie and remembered her with clarity.

"Yes, Mr. Bolt, I recall your wife well," the doctor at the hospital said. "The death of two dear friends wore on her."

"I thought there was only one woman who died in the fire?"

"Correct. Rebecca O'Malley, and a maid... I don't recall her name. Most people didn't know about the maid."

"How so?"

"Well, the judge owed Maguire a favor. Maguire didn't want to frighten people from coming to the theatre, let alone lose any staff so he asked for her death to be kept quiet. The maid didn't have any family, so it was easy to bury her quietly. They found her in the orchestra pit on top of the seats, her body broken. She had appeared to be thrown from a balcony. There was talk of trying your wife for murder, but there wasn't enough evidence. They couldn't see Mrs. Bolt having the strength to do it. Her maid was a large woman."

"My wife's not big enough to toss anyone."

"I agree."

"The sheriff said it was you that committed her to an asylum?"

The doctor shook his head. "She was hysterical, but I really didn't think it was necessary. Her brother thought otherwise, so I told the court that she might benefit from a year of quiet. Did your wife tell you about her experience in the asylum?"

"No, she didn't mention it," Jason answered. "But she's been a bit reluctant to talk about things in the past."

"I'm sure. We have one here in San Francisco, but the brother didn't want a scandal. The judge gave him custody of his sister with the order to commit her to the asylum in Stockton."

Jason watched a woman walk past the open door of the doctor's office, dreading the answer to his next question. "Did you agree with the judge's decision?"

The doctor pushed his spectacles up on his nose and looked Jason over before answering. "No. She wasn't completely incapacitated. Hysterical, yes. It was obvious something horrific had happened to her, so I thought her hysterics were understandable. Most women I know would have been in the same shape had they seen something like that. We had to give her large doses of laudanum to quiet her. But Stockton's asylum? No sir, I didn't agree with that line of treatment at all. I'd heard rumors... I don't approve of their methods, you understand. Chaining patients up and unreported deaths? That's not the sort of medicine I practice. But they don't lobotomize there, and I haven't heard of any sterilizations for women, yet. There are many institutions across the country that practice those methods of treatment, you know. In that respect, I suppose her brother did her a favor."

Jason smiled faintly. His insides shredded into a festering sickness at the images the doctor's words conjured up. "A favor," he repeated.

"Yes. I heard the doctors over there ruled her visions of her late husband as a byproduct of being overly stressed and grief. I agree that a singer of your wife's level of popularity is going to have more than the normal amount of troubles womankind are used to."

"So you don't believe she could have killed those the other woman by accident."

The doctor adjusted his spectacles perched on his nose again. "Well, she could have killed Rebecca, I suppose, if she had started the fire. But your wife insisted she hadn't been near the gas lamps, but someone had laid one of her dresses over one and it caught fire. Maguire was lucky people were passing by. He could have lost the entire building."

Jason's brow furrowed, his mind furiously working over the areas of the opera house the manager had shown him. None of the rooms had looked rebuilt. "Was this in her dressing room?"

"No, it was where the musicians do their practicing. That was what had the marshall, her brother, so puzzled. It wasn't the dress she'd been wearing at the performance that night, so her brother reasoned she must have been changing, had a hellish experience, perhaps she saw someone murder her maid, and in a daze ran into the musician's area, running from a 'ghost.' If that were the case, she must have done it without being aware of what she was doing, because she barely made it out alive. Tragic. Your wife and Miss O'Malley worked close together. I remember Mrs. Bolt sobbing in the courtroom over her death. She kept saying, 'It's happening all over again.' and then she would scream for someone to listen to her. So in that case, maybe Rebecca. But the maid..." He shook his head. "I think the official ruling was Miss O'Malley's death was an accident, brought on by an unsolved murder that your wife might have witnessed, but after Stockton got hold of her, she said she couldn't remember.'"

Clancey's familiar humming brought Jason out of his thoughts. He glanced at his old friend and smiled appreciatively at the whiskey in the glass the captain held out to him.

"You look a little worse for wear, old friend," he answered, taking the whiskey offered to him.

"Aye, well, I suppose I might be a wee bit worried about a certain fella who acts as if he's got the world on his shoulders. We'll be there within the week, Jason, if the weather holds out. Do ya think ya might have it figured out by then?"

Jason finished swallowing his sip and smacked his lips in contentment. How nice it was to know his whiskey was that enticing amber color, though in the moonlight he couldn't see it. Whiskey was something to depend on. Not just it's color and the wetness on his lips, but the beautiful burn that warmed from the inside out.

"Figured out what?" Jason said over the top of the glass.

"Figured out what?!" Clancey bellowed, punching the air. He thrust his hat against his knee and clutched it again in both hands while he glared at Jason. "Look see, bucko, I didn't bring you all the way to San Francisco and lose my sleep in the taverns along the Barbary Coast just to drink my good whiskey! No, sir! You were supposed to get answers! What will I tell the charming Mrs. Bolt if you come back as moon-eyed daft as a salmon swimming upstream? Now answer me that!"

"Moon-eyed... Clancey, this is another one of those times I don't know what you're talking about." Jason stood with his feet apart as if bracing himself for impact.

Clancey seemed not to notice, taking his sea captain's hat off and scratched his grey hair, only to put it back on again. "Well, didn't 'cha go to San Francisco to settle once and for all the state of Mrs. Bolt's mind?"

"Uh, no, not exactly..."

"And didn't 'cha woo her friend into tellin' ya all about her fearful past?"

"I wouldn't call it fearful," Jason said, a tick forming at the side of his mouth. To hide it, he took another sip of the whiskey. "Sad, maybe, but not fearful."

"Ah-ha. So ya don't think she's a terrible person."

Jason frowned. A terrible person? He never thought that. At least, not after the initial shock of the wedding. If anything, after what he had learned—

"No," he said, breaking his own fuzzy concentration. He glared at the whiskey and briefly wondered how much he'd already had. "I don't think she's a terrible person."

"Well, perhaps only a wee bit crazy then, or cursed, as some would say."

Jason paled a little and shook his head, unable to respond right away. He turned back to the moonlit scene and wished again that Laurie had come with him. "She's not insane," he finally answered, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears. He cleared his throat. "Or cursed. A woman, she... well, she vouched for Laurie. In a manner of speaking." Jason gestured away from his body and then wiped his brow. "I haven't been able to breathe since I talked to her. I can't sleep. Oh," he said with a groan. "Laurie's in Seattle. Alone, and there's something not right about what her brother did to her. Something's just not right." He quit talking, realizing he was repeating himself and leaned on his elbows against the railing.

Clancey put his hand on Jason's shoulder. "Aye, bucko, I've seen ya in a lot of trouble before. You and Aaron kept us boozers entertained over the years," he said, with a laugh to which Jason offered a weak smile. "I've seen ya save your brothers from the crimpers, come to a draw with Aaron Stempel in a fistfight, bring a hundred brides from New Bedford to Seattle, and still you're as full of fight and vigor as the first day I laid eyes on ya until it comes to that woman. Bah, when she's the question of the hour, you seem to have lost a little wind in your sails."

"Clancey, I abandoned my wife in her hour of need to satisfy my own. So I beg your pardon if yes, my sails are a little less windy tonight."

"Well man," Clancey said, his voice taking on that soft, pleading tone he sometimes used when talking about tender things. "Marriage is full of making promises, breaking hearts, and being forgiven. That's what love is."

"Love?" Jason asked as if the word were foreign to him.

"Aye, man, that's what I'm saying to ya. I've seen ya strong stomached and green as the gills on a four-day mackerel, and I've seen ya red-eyed angry and whiskey-soured drunk. But I ain't never seen you so stuck on a woman as to call it love, but that's what I'm callin' it now. Jason Bolt, you're in love with your wife!"

"I'm what?" Jason said, raising his voice with his body, reminding Clancey he was overstepping his bounds, to no avail.

"In love with your wife, sir!" Clancey yelled back.

"I'm not in love with my wife! There hasn't been enough time. I—I only just met... uh, oh." The words stuck in Jason's throat. They were standing toe-to-toe, Jason's height doing nothing to quell Clancey's Irish dander. He stepped away from the captain and downed the last of the whiskey. Ignoring the Irishman, he set the glass down to lean over the railing with his head slumped on his shoulders.

"Are ya not, now? You married the woman! Aye, I know, forced into you were." He waved away the arched brow Jason gave him. "But that needn't stop you from admitting you've fallen in love with her... that's what I mean, sir. You stand there and say you're not in love with the woman, yet you just spent a week tracking down old friends, doctors, and whoever else could tell you a bit about your wife's health and past. Then you stand here, mooning as it were, wishing and sighing, and worrying about what's happened while you were away."

"Clancey, I don't see—"

"I know you don't see!" Clancey yelled, banging his hand against the railing next to him. "I'm trying to help you see! A beautiful woman is one thing. It takes nothing to bring a sweet lass to your bed! But love, Jason. You, wanting to make her life better, and wanting to take care of her in her hour of need.. all the sacrificing and missing... Oh, now. That's there's an emotion made of sturdier stuff."

Jason looked into the endless sea. He thought about the brief dream he had entertained before leaving Seattle. He had hoped to show Laurie the places he loved in San Francisco and wondered if they would have been favorites of hers as well. The yearning for her to stand with him where he was standing now. He would have put his arm around her shoulders and enjoyed the sounds of the waves cracking against the hull of the ship with the sails above whipping in the wind. He would have whispered something about the moon's rays being silver dancers on the water, and she would have laughed and peeked at him through her eyelashes. He desperately wanted to hold her close to him so he could breathe in that lilac scent that hung around her neck. Then he would have kissed her until they were both weak-kneed and ready for bed.

But was Clancey right? Was that really love? The captain had never been in love, so how would he know how it felt to be in love? Well, except for the infatuation with Lottie that seemed to grow into something more every year. Yes, Jason cared for Laurie, even wanted her to have his child. But love? Love was...

His mind jumped to his parents. Laughing together, the way they reluctantly let each other go in the morning, and the tight way they held each other at night. Little things they did for each other. He had that with Laurie, and more, didn't he? The pride he felt when she stepped into a room, the anxiety that consumed him when he thought she might be in danger, or the way his stomach hit the ground when she looked at him in that special way that brought his heart to his toes.

But wouldn't a man feel that for any woman that he was responsible for? Especially a beautiful woman? A beautiful woman with an insatiable need for bathing, and as inconvenient her habit was, he liked that about her. His heart lifted with the memory of the peace she brought his home when she sat darning his socks after a delicious meal. Or the way she listened and commented on his dreams and plans for the future, and the sweetness he felt when she tilted her head to the side while she rested her head on her hand after a long day of tending to his home. The ache his soul felt when she wasn't near.

Like now.

He straightened his body so fast Clancey had to take a step backward. "I'm in love with her," he said to himself. With no uncertainty in his body looked at Clancey and said, "I'm in love with her!"

"Well, of course, you're in love with her, weren't you listening at all to what I was saying? Bah, man! You're—"

"Moonstruck, head-over-heels, doe-eyed like a schoolboy in love with the woman!" Jason said, his arms stretched out wide, a grin growing across his face. "Clancey, you're a genius! I'm in love! I've never been in love before," he said, suddenly serious and clutching his chest, "But this is what it feels like. I know what love feels like now. Oh, wow!" he said, taking a deep breath of sea air. "This is what love feels like."

"Aye, you addle-brained lumberjack," said Clancey, wiping imaginary mist from his eyes. "You're hungover with it."

Jason couldn't wipe the smile from his face. "Clancey, I can't thank you enough. I needed someone to help me see. Thank you."

Clancey stood shaking his head before he cleared his throat and clapped Jason on his shoulder. "Well then, it would seem a drink is in order?" he said with hope.

Jason's smile deepened and handed the empty glass back to Clancey. "Aye," he said, mimicking Clancey's Irish accent. "That it is. Maybe a whole lot of drinks," he added to Clancey's surprise. "After all, this is a celebration!"

"Aye, Jason! So it is, so it is! Come on, lad. That breeze has a bitter bite to it. We might be in for a storm..."

Clancey walked away toward the Captain's cabin while muttering to himself, no doubt to bring out the supply of whiskey needed for said celebration. Jason took a last look at the moon and watched it slip behind an ominous-looking cloud.

"I love you, Laurie," he whispered. "And God help anyone who hurts you while I'm gone."

LAURIE

Laurie helped prop Joshua's leg on a chair with a pillow. He scrunched his nose up when she let go and shook his head at her anxious expression. "It's all right, it just hurts."

Laurie sighed. She had thanked Joshua over and over for pulling her out of the fire, but he had laughed her off every time saying he was just saving his own neck from Jason's wrath. Still, she could see the worry in his eyes, and she couldn't help but try to make up for it.

"Of course it hurts," Lottie said to him, handing him a beer. "You're lucky Laurie asked the boys to help you get some air. I would have left you in bed." She hurried into the back room where Candy and Biddie were preparing more wax candles for Lottie's wagon wheel chandelier.

Laurie shrugged when Joshua grinned at her. After a few hours in Brodie's thinking spot, Jeremy had retrieved her with Brodie at his side. He had escorted Laurie to the saloon, taking Brodie with him and promising he would update her on the whereabouts of her attacker. With Lottie swamped at the bar exchanging information for beers with the occasional request for whiskey, Laurie had made her way into the kitchen without having to talk about her sudden departure. A gingerbread cake smothered in confectioners' sugar later, she discovered the doctor had left Seattle to return to Tacoma. Only then did she venture back upstairs with the cake and a pot of fresh coffee.

Laden with her sweet, piping hot offerings and an apologetic smile, Joshua and Aaron had accepted her back into their presence without a word about her former outburst. Their eyes watched her carefully, but she pretended nothing was out of the ordinary, and they seemed content to go along with the charade. That had set the tone for the rest of the week, the men finally giving up finding the attacker, but men, guns, melancholy faces, and Laurie's silence all seemed to be the norm now.

"Lottie got a bee up her bonnet?" Aaron asked.

"No, I think she's just worried," answered Laurie. "There's a lot to worry about."

Both the men nodded sagely, and Laurie headed back to the kitchen with the hope they didn't hear the tremor in her voice. Jason had been gone long enough to have gone to San Francisco, spend two weeks tearing up the Barbary Coast, and come back. Over a week ago Jason's wire to his brothers had arrived, warning them the man wearing the mask had a darker agenda than they had previously assumed.

"Now he tells us," Aaron had responded, dryly. "It's not enough they still haven't caught that traveling murderer... what're the papers calling him?"

"The Muse Killer," Joshua had replied.

"Yeah, that's the one. Now we've got a genuine nut case gunning for Jason's bride. Ye gods."

She wouldn't have worried if Lottie hadn't assured her that Jason would return within two weeks, but it was the end of three, making it close to a month that Jason had been gone, and though Captain Clancey was more than capable, she was getting worried. A few days ago she had expected Richard to arrive in Seattle before Jason, and she wasn't sorry she had been wrong so far. The idea of facing him without Jason made her nauseous all over again. And with her masked man back in her life, she stayed anxious. It seemed she had traded her penchant for tears for a perpetual queasy stomach.

Thank heavens Jason had wired money to his bank in Olympia before he had left San Francisco. Jeremy had disappeared for a few days retrieving it, and operations at the Bolt Brothers camp had continued. It would have devastated Laurie if Jason had gone all that way for nothing.

She entered the back room and put the last venison steak she had cooked onto a plate, drizzling the blackberry glaze she had simmering in another pan over the meat. It was the last of the blackberries from the season unless she counted the blackberry preserves she and Candy had tirelessly put up earlier that summer, which she did not. Her last additions were some boiled potatoes, carrots, and a sliver of asparagus. After fussing a little over how they looked on the plate, she loaded up a tray and brought the food into the barroom.

"Wow. Does Jason eat like this all the time?" Aaron asked Joshua while Laurie placed his plate in front of him.

"Only when she's breathing," Joshua teased, his smile matching his eyes. "Thanks, Laurie. That's very nice of you."

Laurie shook her head at them, placing the other two plates in front of Corky and Harv. "Not to ruin the image of my husband's domestic life, but Lottie made supper. I just helped with dessert."

The men grinned at her, and as she walked away, she heard someone comment, "If I were Jason Bolt, I think I'd pass dinner and go straight to dessert every night too."

The comment was said lightheartedly, but with just the right amount of disrespect that chilled Laurie with a cold, trickling sensation running down her back. The entire room took another feel to it, and she heard the palm of a hand smacking against someone's skull followed by a man's voice saying, "That's Bolt's wife, you idiot."

She cast her eyes around the room and saw a man standing in the corner. He had dark hair and chocolate brown eyes that might have made him handsome, except for a scar running the length of his face. Aside from those striking differences, he was an older version of Brodie.

"Didn't mean nothin' by it," the man said, giving her body another once over with his eyes. "Ain't no sin appreciatin' what the good Lord gave."

"Unless you're coveting another man's wife," said Joshua, his voice heated.

"Calm down," Aaron told him. "No use getting all riled up." He arched his eyebrow at the man, rubbing his bandages under his clothes as he did so. "Frank, why don't you apologize to Mrs. Bolt, so we can all relax and enjoy our meal. I'm starving, and I hear blackberry glaze is best eaten hot." Aaron said it with a smile, but Laurie could tell by the way his dark eyes glittered and the way the man Frank stiffened that there was nothing friendly about his suggestion.

The man next to Frank elbowed him in the gut. "Come on, Frank. You stepped in it, messin' with a Bolt."

"Bolts ain't nothin' special. He ain't the only one who's gotten a little culture lately. 'Specially when she's been out with my kid brother, doing who knows what. If'n I had a sister Bodie's age with a man courtin' her, everyone would be up in arms."

"Frank Schultz," said Lottie with authority, standing just inside the barroom door. "You get out of my saloon! Jackson, get him out of here."

Laurie sucked in her air, but before she could say anything Joshua began to stand up, Corky putting his hand out to stop him.

"You better beat it," Corky told him. "'Cause if he gets out of this chair and messes up that leg, you're going to have two accounts to be reckoned with Jason when he gets back." There was a scraping of chairs, and several men rose, including Corky and Harv. "Not to mention, the tumble you'll get from us."

Frank looked at Laurie with slit eyes, and with a snort, poured the rest of his beer down his throat and set it down hard on top of Lottie's piano. "So be it," he said and walked straight to Laurie and acted as though he were tipping a hat. "My apologies for appreciating a fine figure of a woman. That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, 'til the lily starts to stink. That there's Shakespeare. Well, almost." He followed his quotation with a cruel laugh and continued out the door, leaving with the man Jackson by his side.

Laurie found herself short of breath. How could he know Sherman's twisted line from Romeo and Juliet? Funny how both her husbands could quote Shakespeare, but while one scared her to death, the other made the lines feel wonderfully vibrant. She swallowed hard and said aloud, "I think Brodie is much more polite."

Corky snorted as he and the other men sat back down and said, "Only if you don't catch him peeking in your window."

Again, the men paused, and she heard Joshua mutter, "Shut it, Corky." She and Lottie shared a look.

"Is that true?" Laurie said, still holding Lottie's eyes. She didn't respond. "It can't be. Jason would have said something."

"It was when he first brought you here. Jason didn't want you to think Seattle was a dangerous place to live," said Joshua, staring into his glass of beer. His voice was full of sadness and worry. "Of course, that was before all the trouble with the flume, kidnapped mothers, missing people..."

"Stop it!" Lottie said. She took the beer from him, saying as she walked to the bar to refill it, "Seattle has her ups and downs just like any other town. Things will get back to normal."

"Yeah, but when?" Corky asked. "You've gotta admit, it's been a crazy year so far."

Laurie looked around the room and no one raised their gaze to meet hers except Aaron. He smiled that wide smile of his and said, "Well, what do you expect? Jason fell in love and got married. It was bound to be a year of firsts."

The room burst out in nervous laughter, and taking advantage of the reprieve, Laurie rushed to retreat to the kitchen. In an afterthought, she paused at the door, glanced back at Aaron, and saw him watching her. He had that look like he knew something that he shouldn't.

Curious, she walked back to him and sat down. Joshua's eyes flitted to her and back to Corky who already held his interest in a lively discussion about the next day's work agenda and what Jeremy had been up to. She leaned forward to ask Aaron confidentially, "If Jason knew about Brodie, why wouldn't he—"

"Let's just say, the boys didn't see anything and leave it at that. No harm, no foul. Besides, Jason's not one to hold a grudge."

"But if there are rumors? I mean, Brodie?"

"Oh, that's just Frank running his mouth," said Aaron. "No one listens to him. Fact is, Brodie'll probably catch wind of it and bust Frank in the chops for even suggesting it. He has respect for you, and that's saying something. The Schultz boys weren't taught to respect anyone."

"I've never met Frank before."

"Yeah? Well, you're not missing much. He's been in and out of town since he got a job out of Tacoma digging graves."

Laurie shuddered. Digging graves might be a necessary profession, but she couldn't understand anyone choosing it. The war had shown her enough death to last a hundred lifetimes.

"Are you cold?" Aaron asked.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It's just the idea. Being around the dead all the time."

"Oh. Well, it's better than loitering around town, don't you think?"

"I suppose."

"So, uh... well, Joshua and I are healing all right. How are you doing?" She gave him a look that would have quelled the war had she been at Fort Sumter. In Aaron's case, he only raised an eyebrow. "Oh wow. I see the Scottish now."

"My scar," she said, lowering her voice, "is just fine."

"I wasn't talking about the burn. I meant the attack. You know, it's odd. You seem to be fine one minute and the next... like with the doctor."

Laurie felt her chest constrict, and her eyes diverted to the door.

"And there it is again. You must keep Jason on his toes."

"I'd rather keep him happy."

The wistful sound of her own voice startled them both, and again Aaron arched one eyebrow. "Look, I'm not one to pry, but I've known Jason a lot longer than you. Can I say something?"

Laurie bit her lip and glanced at Joshua. He was bent over, reading something Corky was showing him and laughing. Satisfied, she said, "All right. I could use a friend's advice."

"If you want to keep Jason happy, you need to be happy yourself. I've been watching both of you, and it's the darnedest thing. I've never seen him so responsive to a woman. You don't like Seattle's sewage problems, well, Jason's calling a council meeting making us do things we've been putting off for years to make them better. You want fresh flowers instead of paper ones? He's got half of Seattle's youth picking them. Semi-adopt a wayward youth? Jason conveniently looks the other way."

"Am I that hard to live with?"

Aaron shook his head. "Not for Jason. He loves a challenge. And you, Mrs. Bolt, are the queen of challenges, and he's eating it up." Then he winked at her and took another bite. "Just make sure he wins every so often. This is good," he said, indicating the meal in front of him. "And don't tell me Lottie made it. She's a good cook, but she doesn't fancy up her steaks like this."

"Oh. Um, I might have helped a little." She stood to leave. "Thank you. I'll think about it."

"Yeah, you do that." He shifted to lean on his arm while listening to Harv tell a story about fishing.

She left the barroom thinking how important it was to focus on happy memories and good days when things weren't going well. She entered the backroom and smiled at Candy and Biddie when they waved. There was giggling between them, and the sound warmed Laurie's heart. There had been too many tears, too many shocks to the system, too many...

"Clancey's boat's coming in!" someone yelled from the barroom.

"Clancey's boat!" Candy exclaimed with excitement and grabbed Laurie by the shoulders. "Come on! Jason's coming!"

The apron Laurie wore twisted in her hands. She couldn't breathe, unable to decide what to do next. Half of her wanted to run out to meet the boat, and her other half wanted to run away. Candy stood in front of Laurie, looking confused.

"Biddie, why don't you and Candy go with the others to greet Jason," asked Aaron, leaning against the door. He was stronger than he had been just after he had tried to catch Joshua, but it wasn't any secret that Aaron's ribs were still in repair, even if he hid the bandages under his blue suit.

"Don't you want to come with us?" Biddie asked Laurie.

"Sure, she does," Aaron said, walking closer. "But she doesn't want to meet him with blackberry juice all over her apron. Oh, come on, Candy, you know how it is. A woman wants to look her best, especially since this is their first time being apart."

Candy's hand flew to her cheek. "Oh, that's right! Yes, you'll want to freshen up! Oh, I'm sorry, Laurie. I didn't mean to pressure you, I just thought—oh, never mind what I thought!"

"We'll go make sure you have time to get ready," Biddie said reassuringly and followed Candy out of the room after a tender look exchanged with Aaron.

Laurie gave Aaron a look of gratitude. "Thank you. I wasn't sure what to do."

"I figured. Well, first he'll talk to Jeremy and all the loggers, and they'll tell him all the drama. And Joshua will catch his ear in here. No, what we have to do is show him you're fine. He needs to know that when he leaves, even when bad things happen, you're going to be okay."

"Am I okay?" she whispered.

Aaron looked away for a moment. He swallowed and said, "Seems to me you're more okay than most women would be. But Jason... he's going to go tearing up those stairs to have a good, long look at you. Now, what is it you want him to see?"

She rubbed her hands on her apron and took it off. "Will you go with me?" Aaron's scandalized look almost made her laugh. "I mean in the parlor. As a buffer. Because you're right, he'll tear up those stairs and then... you know."

"Yeah, I know. He'll start blustering. All right. I'll sit in the parlor, with the door kept a little open. We don't need any rumors around here. Well, any more than we already have."

Laurie nodded, and Aaron followed her into the barroom where Joshua watched them make it to the stairs.

"Aaron."

Aaron paused. "It'll be all right, Josh. Keeping the door open."

Joshua gestured as though that wasn't the issue. "I'll have Lottie warm your dinner when she gets back."

"She went too?"

Joshua's eyes strayed to Laurie. "She said she wanted to be sure things weren't made into more than they are."

"Well, it seems like we've got all the basics covered," said Aaron to Laurie.

"Laurie?"

"Yes?" she asked Josh.

"Wear the brown dress with the blue flowers. I don't know what it is about that one, but when you wear it his eyes go soft."

"All right. Thank you."

Aaron nudged her forward, and she climbed the stairs a little disconcerted. They were acting as though Jason would be furious. Should she have been a little more nervous than she already was? Upon entering her room, she made sure Aaron was comfortable and peeked out the window. There was a large crowd at the dock, but no noise.

"Get ready," Aaron told her. "He'll be here sooner than later."

She went into the bedroom and turned down the bed, traded her blue dress for her wedding dress as Joshua had requested, thanking the good Lord once again for the impulse to pack her trunk before the fire. She pinched her cheeks and bit her lips until they were flushed. She paused at her vanity and walked back to the parlor.

"This is so silly," she said when Aaron looked up. "Why I'm getting and asking for advice on Jason, I don't know. I'm his wife. I shouldn't be this nervous. He's never hurt me, so I shouldn't be, right?"

"Are you nervous, or are you excited? They can feel pretty close to the same thing, but there's a difference."

Laurie thought about it. She was both. She wanted to be back in his arms, in her own magical haven. She'd never felt so safe as she did with him. She wanted to kiss him and be kissed by him, and she wanted to hear his laugh. She was excited to hold his hand and take walks and just be... simple. A quiet, harmonious life is what they had promised each other, and that's truly what she longed for.

However, she carried the anxiety of how Jason might have reacted to Doreen's, and particularly Kenna's versions of her past like the proverbial albatross around her neck. The anger he would feel about their cabin burning down, about her not listening to Joshua. The deeper fear that he might tell her he didn't want what she wanted after all. That idea that he no longer cared what Richard had threatened him with. Perhaps he would even divorce her. The anxiety that said, "You're not worth it."

"A bit of both," she confessed out loud.

Aaron thought about it a moment and chuckled. "You know, if you had said anything else, I don't think I would have believed you. What's the advice you're looking for?"

"My hair. Up?" she asked grasping for a shallow reason to her deeper fears, pulling it high on her head. "Or down?"

"Oh. Uh... what's his preference?" He squirmed in his chair, and it occurred to Laurie this might be the first time he had ever had to talk to a woman in such an intimate setting.

"Down," she answered, careful not to cross the invisible line that had drawn itself in the room. "He likes to touch it."

Aaron coughed. "Most definitely down."

Laurie disappeared into her room and grabbed her brush, making a quick job of it. She was putting a ribbon around her neck when she heard a giant to-do downstairs, and true to his nature, her husband's voice seemed to be smack in the middle of it. She walked into the parlor, her face pale.

"Now, now, don't look like that," Aaron told her, eyeing her carefully. "Here, hold on. Your ribbon's a little off." He stood with some discomfort and straightened the ribbon. It took everything she had to be still when all her instincts told her to back away. "That's a pretty addition," he murmured. "Good call."

A memory of Richard flashed through her mind: the morning of her first wedding. He had fussed over her and made sure her appearance was flawless. At the time she had felt loved and cared for, so unlike her first marriage had actually been. Sherman had crushed her spirits later, telling her how Richard was desperate to pawn her off on someone, anyone. Old hurts leaking into her present thoughts, she asked Aaron, "Why are you being so nice?"

"I'm always nice."

"True, but this is beyond what most people experience in friendship, isn't it?"

"Well, I told you, you're my friend. You obviously need some help in being ready to receive Jason tonight. I want to be sure he finds you ravishing when he gets here. That'll help show him you're more than capable. See? I remembered the things you told me when you came to my home, and now I'm helping you show him he can leave and come back, and even though things didn't happen the way he wanted..."

She scrunched up her nose, feeling the tears wanting to come.

"Oh, now see, don't... no, don't do that. Here, uh, let me just get..." He grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed her eyes. She sidestepped him and stared. "You don't want those all puffy. Ye gods, I—if Jason thought I made you cry I'd have more than a cracked rib."

Laurie threw a glance at him with her lips pinched despite the sympathy she felt for him and took the offered handkerchief. She wiped her tears away and said as she handed it back to him, walking toward the bedroom, "If that's true, think about what he might do if he saw you dabbing my eyes. Or even fixing my ribbon."

Aaron's chuckle died in his throat. Laurie peered over her shoulder to see Jason standing in the doorway. He was taller than she remembered, wearing his suit. His jaw was tight around the usually relaxed curve of his face, his lips tightened into the familiar hard line he wore when angered. Her corset dug into her sides when her eyes met his. They were slate grey and the only part of him that softened when they focused on Laurie. He was angry, but not at her.

"Uh... well. Jason, it's good to see you're home."

"Thank you, Aaron," Jason responded, not taking his eyes off her. It gave her a thrill, to have him look at her like that. To look at her as though he wanted to kiss her and strangle her all in the same breath.

Aaron cleared his throat and brushed past him, putting his hand on Jason's shoulder before leaving. "Take it easy," he warned. "She can be feisty, but she's vulnerable." He shut the door behind him, leaving Laurie to convince her husband that everything was fine, alone.

They both stared at one another for a moment. It was Jason who broke eye contact and passed his hand over his face, pulling along his jaw as he did so. "I thought I told you to... Oh, Laurie."

She watched him pace for a moment and realized he hadn't come near her. She took a step closer, but he stopped, eyeing her like a caged tiger she once saw at a circus in Philadelphia. She held still and let him resume pacing, her breathing quickening to shallow gulps.

"I don't want this to be—the Lord Almighty give me strength. What do I do with you?!" He glanced at her stricken face. "I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry... I've never felt like this before. I just—Oh, blast it all anyway! I knew I shouldn't have gone. May God have mercy on us both—if you had—do you know what that would have done to me? If I'd lost you in that fire?"

"I know."

"And what if you're, you know—" he continued, frantically waving his hand circularly toward her abdomen, "Expecting. Didn't you think of that?"

Laurie's eyes filled with tears. "Yes. After."

"After." His eyes went wide, and he bellowed, "After?!"

"I—Joshua told me to stay where he left me..."

"That was my first mistake," Jason muttered. "Thinking he could handle things. The camp, yes. You? I'm a fool."

"I was thinking of our home. I hated that it was burning and I couldn't do anything except watch the smoke in the sky, and..."

He raised his eyebrows when she paused, showing she should continue.

She swallowed. "And then I thought about your father's journals, and I had this flash in my mind. A picture I had invented several times when you were reading them to me."

"A picture?"

"It was nothing, just a silly dream, I guess. I—when I was little, before my mother died, and before things went bad, I remembered my father would sit with me and read stories aloud. It still means something special to me, and I thought—not at that moment at the cabin, but before—how lovely it would be for you to do the same for our children. Read to them, I mean. From your father's journals. So they'd know their grandfather? I don't know. It was stupid. I shouldn't have—"

"That's the loveliest dream I've ever heard." Jason took in a deep breath and closed the gap between them. He reached out to her, and she welcomed the embrace, burying her face in his chest. He rested his head on top of hers and held her for a few moments.

They were both silent, neither looking at the other until Laurie spoke. "I really am sorry. I've been in in a fire before, two, actually, and I—I guess it didn't occur to me that the cabin would burn so fast. I thought I had more time."

"Do you know what it was like coming off the boat and hearing about that? The fire? And you, caught in the middle of it?"

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"They also told me you and Josh were attacked." Jason released his tight embrace and searched her face before giving her a small, sweet kiss that left her thirsty for more. Without saying a word and one arm holding her to him, he used his other hand to unbutton her bodice. With watery eyes, she bit her lip, but let him look.

They told him about that too.

He lifted the material back slowly, his eyes narrowing at the first glimpse of the ugly welt on her reddened skin. He was holding back, but she could tell by his breathing he was angry. A tear betrayed her by slipping down her cheek, and in an instant, his anger disappeared. He brushed it softly with his finger and kissed where it had been, followed by a kind smile.

"Your chin is trembling," he teased, his tone was soft and warm.

Laurie brushed the wound with her finger. "I know we need to talk about this."

Jason nodded and slowly slid the rest of her dress past her shoulders and hips to let it drop to the floor. "We will," he promised and shrugged off his own suit jacket. He pulled his silk ribbon from around his neck and unbuttoned his collar.

"Jason?"

Jason brushed her tear trails away with his knuckles. "No, not now," he said with firm tenderness. "I don't want to talk about it right now. I don't want to talk about anything." He continued to disrobe. His clothes made a soft rustle on a chair, his boots and belt barely making audible clunking sounds next to it. Carefully he stripped Laurie, leaving only their last layer of underclothes between them. He pulled her on his lap when he sat on the edge of the bed, resting his forehead against hers.

"Is it wrong that I want to make love to you?" he whispered, his thumb lightly stroking her cheek. "I understand if you don't. We could just hold each other if that's all you can handle. I know the things you've been through... and not just recently, but all of it. I've thought of hardly anything else for days." He brushed his lips against her cheek. "I want to be close to you." With a gentle tug, he pulled the ribbon around her neck off, letting it fall to the floor, and kissed where it had been. Laurie tilted her head up and closed her eyes. He quickly kissed her again. "I missed you. Terribly."

Laurie put her arms around his neck and let her favorite bible verse memorized for her girlhood dreams roll off her tongue. "Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine."

Jason groaned, and a shiver went through her when he gripped the back of her neck while he kissed her lips softly, sucking her bottom lip just a little before letting go. The contrast between his passionate touch and soft kiss kicked her heart into a frenzied beat. "Scripture has never sounded so delicious," he murmured, and kissed her again, crushing her to him, his hand running down her back to her hips. That kiss melted into longer, more intimate kisses, strung together for a long time, both of them slowly removing the underclothes from the other, each piece falling silently to the floor.