Hello you guys! I am thrilled that many of you seem to have connected with Madeline already, and we will be visiting her and her lovable uncle next. Thank you all for reading.

Chapter 6

The next day, Adam rode with his father to Virginia City. His plan had been put into motion the previous evening and so far, everything was going smoothly. Yesterday after supper, he had suggested having a little dinner party on the coming weekend to celebrate the Ponderosa's latest big contract with some cattle buyers in Reno.

For a while now, Adam had been aware of the fact that his family were always careful not to mention anything about parties or entertaining guests and they'd even refrained from inviting their friends over to the ranch lately. They were still sensitive to his needs, just as they had been when he first arrived home where they instantly knew that a welcome back party of any kind would be a disaster for him. What they had needed the most these past weeks, was time together, just the four of them and Hop Sing, but now Adam wanted his brothers and father to carry on their lives as normally as possible. Besides, he couldn't take more of their fussing over him.

His suggestion about a dinner party had brought looks of delight to their faces and Joe had quickly stated that he would invite Maisy McCoy when he next went to town. He'd given Hoss a sly wink and said that Maisy had a sister but then abruptly—he turned to Adam with guilty eyes— so used to it being just him and Hoss that he'd forgotten about a girl for his oldest brother.

Adam had just chuckled good-naturedly and assured them that he would be fine with simply talking to some old friends for the evening. Then, he casually mentioned maybe inviting Roy Coffee and Doc Martin. As he'd expected, Hoss spoke up, telling him not to forget "that sweet little gal, Miss Delaney", and Adam had raised his eyebrows as if suddenly just remembering the doctor's niece.

Yes, the first part of his scheme had come together nicely indeed, and then this morning, his father presented him with the perfect opportunity to initiate the second phase of his plan.

His Pa had stood from the table after breakfast and said that there was some ranch business that needed handling in town. Adam, being the dutiful firstborn son that he was, quickly offered to go with him to take care of the bank matters.

They had ridden out together minutes later and were now well on their way to Virginia City.

They had a pleasant ride and his father seemed more like himself, so Adam didn't bring up whatever was bothering the older man. Maybe it really wasn't anything to worry about after all and Hoss and Joe didn't appear to have noticed that anything was wrong.

When they arrived at the Post office in town, Adam got the distinct sense that the temperature was higher here than on the Ponderosa. His gaze floated down the street in the direction of Doctor Martin's house when a hand on his arm almost made him jump out of the saddle.

"I'm just going to send a letter to the buyers in Reno, then I have that meeting with the Association in fifteen minutes. Are you all right, son?"

"Yea Pa, I'm fine." Adam looked down at his father who'd already dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching rail. "I'll take care of the payroll for the hands and deposit the payment for the lumber delivery at the bank. I'll uh . . .I'll probably go to Paul's while you're at that meeting. You know, to invite the doc and his niece to the dinner on Saturday."

So far, Adam had thought that he'd gotten away with his plot without arousing any suspicion. The look his father gave him, told him otherwise.

"All right then," Ben said with a hinted smile. "I'll be done in about an hour, then we can head home."

"Okay, I'll meet you over at the Cattlemen's Association in an hour then."

Adam moved his knees against Sport's flanks, more than ready to get away from that knowing expression of his Pa's, and the big chestnut trotted down the street towards the bank.

xXXx

After he had taken care of the financial business and arranged for the payroll to be picked up the next day by Joe, Adam collected Sport and rode towards Paul Martin's house. He kept his hat low on his face and gave a brief nod to the people who greeted him, but he wasn't deaf to the occasional whispers that started up as he rode past one building after the other.

When he got to the doctor's house and practice, he saw a "closed" sign hanging beside the front door. Since Paul's working hours were so varying and it often ended with him being on duty for entire weekends, he tried to close his practice early on Tuesdays, taking on only emergency cases in these afternoons. He'd had this particular rule for almost as long as Adam had known him.

Adam dismounted and took his time tying Sport's reins to the hitching post outside the house. He walked up the wooden steps to the white-painted porch and pulled out his pocket-watch to check the time. Five minutes past three o'clock.

Putting the watch away, he raised his hand, about to knock on the front door when he hesitated.

Madeline was probably inside. There was even a possibility of her being the one opening the door.

He moved his hands across his black shirt, dusting himself off, then took off his hat and gave the Stetson the same treatment. The thought of seeing her beautiful face again and of hearing her soft, feminine voice, had distracted him all last week and even cost him a few games of cribbage and checkers to his younger brothers.

And now that the thought had become a reality, he was both surprised and quite unnerved by his sudden physical reaction. His heart was pounding so hard, he couldn't even make out the sounds of the busy street behind him, and he briefly entertained the idea of hightailing it over to the Bucket of Blood and returning in a little while, after he'd found his nerve at the bottom of one of Sam's bottles.

For God's sake, what's gotten into me? If Joe and Hoss could see me now . . . Just knock on the door!

Thoroughly frustrated with himself, Adam expelled a rush of air through his nose and replaced the hat on his head before knocking firmly on the door. As he waited for it to open, he quickly wiped his palms on the back of his pants.

Maybe it'll be Paul who opens. Maybe she isn't even here at the moment.

He ended up ripping the hat off again, holding it in his fidgeting hands just as the door clicked and began to move.

"Adam!"

It was Paul. Thank God.

Paul Martin's vibrant smile at seeing his good friend quickly vanished.

"What is it Adam? What's wrong?"

After letting out the breath he'd been holding, Adam took in Paul's question and worried tone of voice.

"Oh, uh nothing, Paul. Nothing's wrong. I just, well . . . I wanted to stop by."

"Heavens, Adam . . ." Paul sagged against the door, grabbing at his chest. "I've never seen you look so relieved to see me. I thought something terrible had happened and that you needed my assistance. Come in, my friend."

Adam inwardly cringed at the doctor's statement, feeling that at the rate he was going, he would indeed need Paul's assistance before this day was over. He stepped inside the house, his hands still tormenting his hat when a wave of delicious smells assailed his senses as he stood in the foyer.

"You come at the perfect time," Paul said and Adam followed him past the staircase by his office, down the hall leading to the kitchen. "I have just put bread in the oven. I ah . . . well, Madeline has been teaching me. It was her idea, actually. There's fresh coffee too."

A smile began pulling at Adam's mouth, when he noticed the patches of flour sticking to the doctor's grey vest. He knew how Paul liked to try new things and to have different projects outside of his doctoring which took up so much of his life. Baking was apparently his newest endeavor.

When they reached the open doorway to the kitchen, Adam was immensely grateful for the fact that he was standing behind Paul and not in front of him. Across the room by the water pump, stood Madeline. She had her back to them, her deep brown hair partly held up by a flower clip while the rest swirled in long curls down her neck and shoulders. She wore a simple blue dress and white strings of an apron were tied in a neat bow at her waist, accentuating her slim figure.

"Madeline, dear. Look who is here."

Adam didn't comprehend Paul's words—only that she was about to turn around—and he found that he was equally grateful for the practical doorway in which he stood, since it provided him with some excellent casual-looking-leaning-potential. Finally faced with the woman who had occupied his mind for the last week, he suddenly needed the support of the wall next to him very much.

Her face brightened at the sight of him and she wiped her hands on a dishtowel before crossing the room.

"Mr. Cartwright, it is a pleasure to see you again."

Taking a leap of faith, Adam stepped away from his doorway and gently took her outstretched hand in his.

"The pleasure is entirely mine, Miss Delaney." He bowed his head slightly while gazing into her eyes and offered up his most charming smile.

It was the strangest thing, it only lasted a moment and yet, it seemed as if time slowed to a complete stop. They just looked at each other and that connection that Adam had known would be there, almost overwhelmed him. Her hand fit so perfectly in his. The eye contact lasted undoubtedly longer than what could be considered appropriate and Madeline abruptly lowered her gaze.

From somewhere to Adam's right, Paul made a loud cough. "Yes Adam, the pleasure will be yours indeed, just wait 'til you taste these freshly-made bread rolls here—individually shaped too, they are." The doctor grabbed a dishtowel from the kitchen table and stepped over to the wood cook stove to peek at his creations.

With regret, Adam let go of Madeline's small hand and she carefully smoothed down her apron before tentatively looking up at him again. Her rosy lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but when no words came, one side of his own mouth slowly curled upwards.

Suddenly, she spun around and walked back to the cast iron pump.

"Please, forgive the mess Mr. Cartwright." She began wiping the top of a kitchen cupboard next to the water pump. "We started out very organized, but things got a little out of hand and we've just had a slight mishap with the flour."

"I really am sorry, Madeline," Paul said from over by the stove, his face contrite. "I have no idea how that happened."

"Uncle Paul, please don't worry yourself. It was just an accident."

For the first time, Adam noted the state the room was in. A light layer of flour covered most of the shelves and storage cabinets and parts of the kitchen floor. Red and white checkered dishtowels were dotted around and worn papers, which Adam assumed were recipes, lay strewn about. The kitchen table in the middle of the room was overflowing with bags of flour and sugar, a basket of eggs and several jugs and spoons. But what really caught Adam's attention was the impressive—albeit fairly unbalanced—tower of various bowls and dishes stacked on top of each other near the edge of the table.

It did not require a degree in architecture to predict what was about to happen when Paul thoughtlessly tossed his dishtowel back onto the table. The cloth barely brushed the pile of kitchenware, but it was enough and Adam sprang forward just as Madeline turned with a gasp and Paul moved at a surprising speed from the stove.

They all three grabbed at the slanting tower, steadying it in the last second.

Silence followed.

"Well . . ." Paul chuckled weakly. "That was rather close. It was perhaps an error on my part, stacking them like that."

Madeline turned to look at her uncle with a smile that was simply too fond to allow for much exasperation. As she did so, a stray, smooth curl fell free to rest on her cheek and left Adam mesmerized. He realized that his hand covered hers where they had both tried to save a ceramic mixing bowl.

"Why don't I just take these," he said and easily lifted the top half of the tower. He walked over to place it in a clear spot on a worktable attached by hinges to the wall. Then he went back to help Paul clear the table but when the doctor looked up, he stopped what he was doing, pointed at Adam and laughed.

Frowning in puzzlement, Adam looked down at himself and saw that his black shirt was covered in flour where the kitchen items had leaned against his chest as he'd carried them.

"Uncle Paul!" Madeline chastised and hurried over to Adam.

"Oh, I do apologize Mr. Cartwright." Her perfectly shaped eyebrows drew together as she searched for a clean towel.

"It's quite all right, Miss. I'm used to getting covered in trail dust and that's much worse than this. I'm sure it'll come right off."

"Just hold on one moment, I know that we have a clean towel here somewhere."

Adam began brushing the flour off, thinking how cute she looked scurrying around like that, when she came over with a new dishcloth in hand. She reached out to him and he felt an electric tingle of anticipation run through his body, but then she suddenly seemed to stop herself and handed him the cloth instead.

"Here you are, I do hope it comes out easily . . . Let me get you some coffee."

"Thank you."

Hiding his disappointment, he set to work on making his now greyish-black shirt all black again and walked to the table. He sat down on one of the chairs and bent down to pick up his hat where it had landed when he'd jumped over to prevent the kitchenware collapse.

Seeing that his Stetson had encountered the soft, white powder residing on the floor, he turned the dishcloth on the hat. Paul came out of the built-in pantry at the far end of the room after putting the dry goods away and he sat down opposite Adam.

"If you think the kitchen looks bad now, you should have seen it a couple of days ago when I made beef casserole. It turned out quite well I thought. Dumplings and all."

Madeline placed a tray with two cups of coffee and a cup of tea on the table. Nodding his thanks, Adam took one of the coffee cups.

"Well, I think it's great Paul, you taking an interest in cooking."

"Yes, I suppose after taking one look at my somewhat limited pantry, my niece took it upon herself to widen my culinary knowledge."

Madeline faced her uncle with lively eyes, so vividly green.

"Uncle, it was high time. You can't very well live off your own eggs and bacon and occasional meals at the International House." She poured a little spoonful of sugar into her tea. "Also, I do believe you've enjoyed exploring the arts of cookery these last few days."

"You're not considering a change in career now, are you, doc?" Adam asked, the mirth apparent in his voice.

Paul, whose lips were puckered as he was about to sip his coffee, quickly lowered the cup and looked at Adam in disbelief.

"Ha! Can you imagine that? Lord knows what would happen if I wasn't around to patch up you or one of your brothers every other week!"

Smirking, Adam raised his cup but then noticed Madeline observing him intently. He was about to ask her if something was wrong when a distinctive scent seemed to drift over and reach all three of them at the same.

"Uhm . . ." he turned in his chair. "I think—"

"Uncle!"

Madeline grasped Paul's sleeve with a look of frozen shock on her face and the doctor's eyes slowly widened as realization dawned on him.

"My God, No!"

Paul flew from his chair, knocking the wooden piece of furniture to the ground in the process, and he almost slipped on the floury floor before grabbing a towel and ripping open the oven's little door.

A small cloud of smoke wafted out from the stove and appeared to engulf the doctor's head for a second as he coughed, waving his hand frantically. Madeline swiftly went to open the window above the water pump and Adam stood, watching the scene uncertainly.

The smoke quickly dispersed and left Paul standing there, his shoulders slumped.

Adam and Madeline exchanges glances as the doctor kept his back to them.

Finally, Adam cleared his throat. "Paul, I'm sure that it's not"—the doctor slowly turned around—"so . . . bad."

Madeline delicately brought a hand up to cover her mouth and Adam just stared at the blackened, uneven lump, which had once apparently been individually shaped bread rolls. Paul's gaze was transfixed on the oven rack in his hands.

"I completely forgot."

Looking over at Madeline, Adam glimpsed the faint smile that had gradually developed behind her hand and he fought to contain his laugh.

"Now doc, it could have happened to anyone." He patted the older man on the shoulder in reassurance, which made a light puff of flour rise to the air. Madeline stepped forward and with a towel, she gently took hold of the rack.

"I'll get rid of these, Uncle Paul, and we can have the loaf I made earlier instead. We still have the gooseberry pie which is all prepared and ready to be baked. We can try the rolls again some other time."

Her tone was soft and kind and Adam felt he could listen to that voice all day. He was also pleased that she was speaking in her natural way, her Southern accent flowing freely and unhindered.

Paul seemed to come back to himself and bowed his head in resignation. He looked down at his shirt and saw that there were now dark smudges along his sleeves which had somehow gotten there when he'd retrieved the rack forcibly from the oven.

"Well, I think I'll just go and clean up a bit. I believe we can safely discount baking as being one of my talents."

Although the corners of his mouth briefly lifted, his eyes remained empty and he turned and headed out of the kitchen.

Madeline watched him sympathetically as he left, then she set about throwing the burnt lump away. Adam sat back down in his chair and took a drink of coffee while he observed her. He really didn't want to be impolite and tried not to stare. She was just so beautiful. The way her full skirt danced graciously across the floor as she moved, and the silk material tightened and stretched across her body when she reached for something. That same curly lock kept slipping free into her face and she kept brushing it behind her ear in that adorable way of hers. He tried to take it all in so he could remember her as clearly later as he saw her now. But he knew it wouldn't be enough.

He hastily averted his eyes when she came over to the table, holding a new tray loaded with a variety of preserves, ham and a loaf of bread.

"How is your family, Mr. Cartwright?"

"Oh, they're fine, thank you. The ranch is busy this time of year, plenty of work to tie us all down. I'll probably be in for it with my brothers when I get home since I got to spend the day in town handling business and such."

"I imagine that managing business and finances is an important part of running a ranch like the Ponderosa, Sir." She gestured towards the tray. "Please, help yourself."

"Thank you."

He began cutting a few slices of the bread. "So, how are you finding life out here, Miss Delaney? It must be quite a change from what you're used to."

"Well, I am certainly learning new things every day." She took a slice of bread and her expression turned thoughtful. "I must say that the West offers up a very refreshing perspective on a number of aspects. The way of life, nature, even just the people who live here. It is all quite special."

"I agree with you that it's special," Adam said, and took a glass jar of crab apple jelly. "Both my father and I have seen most parts of the country but nothing compares to riding across the plains of the Ponderosa. The landscape in the Sierras is like no other, and then there's Lake Tahoe of course." A dimple appeared by his mouth. "Although I might be slightly biased . . ."

"Oh, from what my uncle has told me, your words are no exaggeration," Madeline said in a genuine tone. "He has taken me on a few rides outside of Virginia City, but I have only seen the borders of the Ponderosa from a distance."

As he listened, Adam realized that her eyes held a natural shimmer that looked just like the lake at sunset.

"Perhaps you would like to see it up-close?" He blurted out. "Well, what I mean is . . . actually, that's why I stopped by. We're having a little dinner party at the house on Saturday. Nothing too grand, just a few friends in celebration of a big business deal we recently landed. We'd like it very much if you and Paul could come." His expression turned a little apprehensive. "That is, if you're not otherwise engaged that evening."

A smile began at the corners of her lips, pulling them slowly, wider and wider, until it dazzled all of her face. It was a different smile to the one she had shown him up until now. It was exuberant with just a touch of giddy and he was hooked on yet another thing about her.

"I don't think Uncle Paul has any plans. I . . . well, I am not very well acquainted around Virginia City yet so I have spent most weekends here." Her voice softened with sincerity. "It would be lovely to visit your ranch. Thank you for your kind invitation."

Adam let himself begin to relax and returned her smile. He finished spreading the crab apple jelly onto the bread and watched while she drizzled honey onto hers.

"There is one think I'd like to ask of you though . . ."

"Oh . . . what is that?"

"Addressing us all as Mr. Cartwright might cause some confusion over the course of the evening. Please, call me Adam."

She gazed straight into his eyes, white teeth peaking out between her full lips.

"Adam," she said softly. "Then you must call me Madeline."

As soon as she said his name out loud, he knew that he was in real trouble. His heart did a little skip and he just wanted her to say it again.

At that moment, Paul came into the kitchen, dressed in a new white shirt and a black vest.

"What a terrible shame," he said, hardly sparing them a glance as he walked over to the oven rack leaning against the wall. "I'm sorry Adam, here I was, promising you freshly baked rolls and then this."

He stared down at the black dust and burnt lumps of dough that had dropped onto the floor under the rack.

"Never mind Paul. This loaf here looks really good."

Adam picked up the bread and bit into it, surprised by the light and fluffy texture.

"Yes, Madeline is a talented cook and baker."

"Uncle Paul, won't you come and sit down?" Madeline eyed her uncle with concern. "I have burned many batches of bread, it really happens to everyone."

The doctor straightened and quietly came over to sit at the table.

As Adam chewed, he couldn't help but find the situation a little amusing. The usually self-assured doctor looked pitiful.

Then, his eyes fell on the glass jar by his plate and suddenly he remembered noticing the similar jars lined up on one of the shelves. A thought struck him and he swallowed the mouthful, reaching for his coffee.

"Say Paul . . . you think you could tell me where to get hold of this crab apple jelly?" Adam gestured to his plate. "It's the best I've ever tasted. Hoss and Joe would love this stuff."

Paul instantly raised his head, the wrinkles by his eyes crinkling.

"Well Adam, I actually made that myself, Madeline taught me how to. I have a few jars, you can certainly take one with you home."

He rose from his chair with a burst of energy and Adam tipped his coffee cup against his mouth, shooting a little sideways wink at Madeline.

Her face shone with surprise and gratitude and she continued studying him when her uncle came back to the table with a full jar of the soft fruit spread.

"Thanks Paul, I'm sure this will go down well at the breakfast table tomorrow."

"If you would like more, just let me know. I have plenty," Paul replied generously.

Madeline turned to her uncle and laid a hand on his arm, her face aglow.

"Adam has invited us to dinner on Saturday. I don't recall you having any other plans that evening?"

The fact that a first name basis had been established during his short absence did not go unnoticed by the doctor. First, Paul's gaze was on his obviously enthusiastic niece, then it slowly slid over to Adam.

"Yea, so . . ." Adam shifted in his chair. "We're having a little dinner party to celebrate a big contract we just secured. And we all thought it would be nice if you and Madeline could come. Roy is coming too, I think."

"Well, that sounds very pleasant indeed." Paul smiled, but Adam was a little distracted by the way the older man's left eye seemed to twitch. "I have no other plans, no. It really is about time that Madeline got to see the Ponderosa in all its glory."

The doctor finally released Adam from the eye lock and took a slice of bread for himself.

The conversation turned to casual topics and Madeline asked Adam to tell her more about the Ponderosa, which he happily did. Half an hour later, the bread loaf was considerably smaller and the coffee pot by the stove was almost empty. When he realized that he had no idea what time it was, Adam pulled out his watch and saw that he should have met his Pa twenty minutes ago.

"I better get going, I'm supposed to meet my father. He had a meeting in town."

Madeline had completely lost track of time too and quickly stood up when Adam and her uncle did.

"Well, it was nice that you stopped by, Adam," Paul said. "I have missed this. I always enjoy our social visits much more than our business-related ones."

"That makes two of us." Adam gave him a dry look and picked up his hat and the jar of fruit jelly.

"Oh, I just remembered, I have something for you!" Paul held up a finger and without another word, chased his notion out of the kitchen.

Facing Madeline, Adam did a questioning head tilt and chuckled when she just shook her head helplessly, clearly having no idea what her uncle was up to. He made a gallant "after you" gesture with his hand and her blushing cheeks dimpled faintly as she went in front of him out of the kitchen doorway.

"Thank you for the coffee. And the bread was delicious. Paul is right, you are a great baker," he said as they walked down the hall to the foyer.

"Thank you and you are very welcome." She glanced over at him, her face earnest as she spoke. "It was nice to have a visit from someone who isn't a patient. I'll look forward to Saturday and to seeing your ranch."

"Ah, here we are." Paul came out of the the sitting room, holding a paper in his hand. "I thought you might like to keep this. As a sort of memory of a grand accomplishment. It's right on page—"

"Page four, I know." Adam released a sigh and took the copy of the Territorial Enterprise. "The only place I'll be keeping this is on the fireplace."

"Come now, Adam. In my opinion it is a very impressive, not to mention quite flattering piece of writing of Dave's."

Paul's eyes gleamed with mischief and Madeline watched Adam's dismissive reaction curiously.

"Paul, you know that I hate this, he undoubtedly knows it too. It's too much. As far as Dave Howell is concerned, he better make an effort to avoid bumping into me for the next month at least."

"Ah yes, Dave, the scoundrel!" Paul struck a dramatic pose, raising one fist to the air. "After all, writing an article about you and giving an accurate account of the events . . . why, whoever heard of such a thing."

Adam slowly looked up at the doctor, already knowing the answer to his question.

". . .You were there?"

Paul nodded, and Adam turned to face Madeline who smiled carefully at him, sensing his discomfort.

"I have never been a spectator at such a display before," she said. "I was so very impressed by your skills, it was beyond extraordinary."

"Well I . . ." He scratched the back of his neck. "It wasn't anything really."

Ten years ago, those words would have made Paul look incredulously at the younger man, but he knew Adam so well that he had expected them and instead, he just laughed at the ridiculous statement.

All three startled when there was a knock on the door. Being the closest, Paul opened it and a familiar voice floated into the foyer.

"Hi Paul. I'm looking for that oldest boy of mine, is he here?"

"Ah, you mean your little sharpshooter?"

Paul ignored the look that he knew Adam was drilling into the back of his head. "Yes, he was just leaving to meet you."

Adam went to the door and met his father with a sheepish expression.

"Ready to head home, son?" Ben asked, amused.

"Sure, Pa."

Just as Adam stepped out the door, Paul snatched the newspaper out from under his arm.

"I think I'll keep this here where it won't encounter any fireplaces."

Adam smiled past gritted teeth.

"I'll see you on Saturday, Paul."

When he looked at Madeline, the mild tension in his expression melted away. "I'll look forward to seeing you too, Madeline."

She dipped her head, and it seemed that every smile she gave him, got brighter than the last.

Adam walked down the steps of the porch to get Sport ready while his father hung back. Ben held out a hand to Madeline and his deep coffee brown eyes shone with genuine warmth.

"I am so glad that you'll be joining us, dear."

"I thank you for the invitation, Mr. Cartwright. I am very excited to finally see the Ponderosa."

Ben noticed that Paul had gone quiet and that he was looking down into the street, his forehead furrowed. Madeline's attention also seemed to shift and Ben turned, and immediately saw what they had seen. Two cavalry soldiers were walking towards Adam.

Adam was just packing the jar of crab apple jelly into his saddlebags when he heard footsteps behind him and twisted around to see two young men in uniform approaching. They stopped by the hitching rail and saluted him.

"Good day, Sir," one of the men said, "I am Lieutenant Perry and this is Private Wilson."

Adam had responded by reflex with a crisp salute of his own and smiled.

"Good day Lieutenant. But there's really no need for such a greeting, I have resigned my position."

"Yes, so I've heard, Sir. We have been in Virginia City the last ten days, but we're now about to head back to camp with the rest of our men. We were just on our way to the livery stable and wanted to stop and express our admiration." The soldier paused and tipped his head a little shyly. "I hope you don't mind, we were in the audience at your shooting demonstration last week, you see."

"Not at all," Adam said, studying them with interest. "Thank you gentlemen. What unit are you in?"

"We are from company D of the 1st Battalion Nevada Volunteer Cavalry, Sir. Under Lt. Colonel George. Stationed at Camp Nye near Carson City."

"Would that be Milo George?"

"Yes, Sir. He was recently promoted. You know him, perhaps?"

"Yes, I knew him years ago. I'm pleased to hear that he is doing well."

Adam spoke with the soldiers for a couple of minutes and they told him they'd been in Virginia City to protect a group of friendly Indians who were being harassed. With the mounting Indian trouble, it was not uncommon to see cavalry soldiers around the towns of the West. The two young men continued addressing him as if he were a captain in active duty and Adam was warmed by it. More than a month had passed since he'd spoken face to face with someone from the army. These two soldiers reminded him of several of his own men and it felt familiar, talking with them. It felt nice.

When Adam sensed a movement to his right, he glanced over and saw his father coming down the porch stairs of Paul's house.

"Well, it was a pleasure talking to you," he said, regarding the soldiers with a smile as he shook both men's hands. "Have a safe trip back to your camp."

"Thank you, Sir."

They turned and gave a nod of greeting to Ben who politely returned it, then they disappeared down the street.

Ben went over to Adam and began untying Buck's reins from the hitching rail. "You think we can go home now?"

Adam frowned at the slightly snappy edge to his father's tone. "Sure."

They mounted up and Adam tipped his hat at Paul and Madeline who were still standing on the porch. They waved back at him and his eyes lingered for a long moment on the doctor's niece before he and his father headed back up the street.

xXXx

The ride out of town was silent and when they got beyond the outskirts of Virginia City, Adam looked over at his father who was staring off into the distance. They were nearing fifteen minutes of no talking, when Adam casually leaned back, supporting himself with a hand on the upper part of Sport's rump.

"Pa, is something bothering you?"

"No, nothing is bothering me," Ben grunted.

"All right."

They continued along the trail for another minute, then Ben rose slightly and resettled in the saddle as he threw a glance at his son.

"Did you know those two young men?"

"Nope."

"It looked as if you really enjoyed speaking with them. Just seemed like you knew them."

"I did enjoy speaking with them. Now what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Ben huffed. "Nothing at all."

Adam's brows lifted. "Look, it's nice talking to people you have things in common with. You know that feeling from your days at sea. It's no different with us soldiers."

"You're not a soldier anymore, Adam."

Ben kept his eyes on the trail, his hands clutching the reins tightly as he waited for a response but the sudden pause stretched out.

"You're right. I'm not."

Adam had said the last words in an odd tone, one that made Ben's eyes shoot to him immediately. When he saw that his son's countenance had hardened with impassiveness, he sighed.

"I'm sorry. I am being unfair. One minute I'm asking you to open up about this part of your life and the next . . . ." Ben fell quiet with a regretful expression.

He watched the side of Adam's face and spoke quietly."I truly do want to learn about this side of you that I know so little about. I'm incredibly proud of what you've accomplished. It just takes some getting used to."

He kept looking over at Adam as the dull clonking sound of the horses' hooves filled the quiet.

"It's okay," Adam said. "I understand."

Ben eyed him skeptically until the young man faced him and gave the little half smile that reassured him more than words could.

They turned back to the trail and rode on in companionable silence.

"You're still my little boy, you know."

Adam dropped his head, shaking it as he blew out a breath. "Oh, Pa . . ."

"What?" Ben chuckled, wearing a sudden full-fledged grin. "It's true."

"Whatever you say, Pa."

As if expecting his father to make some spontaneous physical gesture of affection, Adam maneuvered Sport just a little further across the road, widening the distance between him and his Pa.

Ben laughed, feeling strangely pleased that he could make his firstborn look like an embarrassed youngster even at thirty-one years old.

"When you're a father yourself, you'll know what I mean."

No reply came, but Ben didn't mind. He'd already seen the half smile creep back onto Adam's face.