Author's Notes

I tried to get this chapter up a little quicker since we had a sad ending to chapter 8. Here comes a mostly lighthearted chapter and one, I suspect, that some of you have been waiting for...

Thank you again to the "Guests" and those of you I can't reply to. All of your reviews are wonderful to read.

P.S. My aim is to be as historically accurate as possible throughout this story and I'm glad that it's working out so far.

Chapter 9

"Here ya go, shortshanks, rinse your mouth out with this."

Squinting through his lashes, Joe could just make out the shape of a glass floating in the air in front of his face. He tried to take the item, but his hand was pushed away and suddenly the rim of the glass was pressed against his lips. He drank eagerly and worked the cool water around his mouth, soothing the acid taste on his tongue. Seeing the bucket reappear in front of him, he spat the water into it.

"Sure you're done this time? I ain't doin' no more cleanin' up in here today."

Hoss helped his brother lie back against the pillows on the bed.

"Hoss . . . what happened?"

"You decided to drown yurself in beer at the Bucket o' Blood, that's what happened."

"Ooohh . . ." Joe moaned and rubbed a hand across his eyes. "Could you just keep your voice down?"

The big man looked down at his spectacularly hungover brother.

"Sorry, shortshanks. You got fresh water on the table next to ya. I better go down and tell Pa you're half-conscious again."

"Pa!"

With a jerky motion, Joe sat up and the green tinge instantly came back to his face.

"Take it easy, Joe," Hoss said, pushing him back down on the bed. "Pa ain't all that mad. Ol' Adam got him calmed down some yesterday, I reckon. While I was tucking you into bed like a little babe."

Joe paid no attention to the teasing last part of the sentence and instead looked towards the open door of his room.

"Where is Adam?"

The playfulness gone from his eyes, Hoss slowly lowered himself to perch on the side of Joe's bed.

"He rode out real early. Said he was gonna do some fence mendin' in the south section. He had the look in his eyes . . . you know, when he wants to be alone. Wouldn't let me go with 'im."

"Oh."

The room became quiet and Joe started to fiddle with the edge of his blanket.

"We sure had fun yesterday, didn't we, Hoss? I mean with Adam. Just the three of us again . . ."

"Yea, we did. I think that's why Pa ain't mad at us, not really." Hoss' expression lightened with the easy smile that never strayed far from his face. "It feels nice bein' together just the three of us again, don't it?"

"Yea," Joe replied without looking up. "I really missed him, you know."

With that childlike hesitance and youthful look, Joe almost seemed like a little boy again and Hoss had never known anyone who could tug at his heartstrings the way his little brother could.

"Me too, Joe. I know he missed us too. He even did your barn chores for ya before he left."

Closing his eyes, Joe tipped his head back against the pillows.

"I really don't think I could have faced doing barn chores today."

"Well, how about facin' a bite to eat, hmm? You must be powerful hungry, you ain't got nothin' more left in you!"

Joe forced the new surge of bile back down his throat and turned to Hoss with a pathetic expression.

"Maybe later."

"Okay but Hop Sing ain't gonna be happy with ya. Well, I gotta get to work." Hoss stood from the bed. "I'm staying around the house today, so just holler if'n ya need something."

Picking up the bucket by the bed, Hoss went to the door and then stopped. He looked over his shoulder with a slight wince.

"Pa asked me to tell him when ya woke up. He'll be up in a minute, I guess . . ."

Joe's throat bobbed as he gulped. He lay back on the bed in acceptance and listened to his brother walking down the hall, awaiting the sound of his father's approach.

xXXx

The sky had taken on hues of red and orange when Adam finally came home. Ben and his other sons were sitting by the fireplace and over the last two hours, each of them had thrown at least a dozen glances at the big grandfather clock. Hop Sing had been keeping their supper warm for quite a while and he'd just come out of the kitchen to complain yet again about the food drying out, when there was a metallic clicking noise from the front door. Adam had barely taken a step inside the house before he was rushed by a stream of Cantonese and he froze where he stood. While neither he or his family understood the words, Hop Sing's tone clearly stated his dissatisfaction. Holding up his hands, Adam apologized for his delay, placating the cook and Hop Sing disappeared off to the kitchen, mumbling to himself all the way.

Ben was glad to have his eldest home and he couldn't keep the relief from showing on his face. When he had gotten up that morning, Adam had already left, and he was a little worried about his son's mood. As he watched the young man take off his hat and gun belt, Ben picked up on the weariness in his movements and the way his mind seemed to be elsewhere still. He also noticed Hoss and Joe peeking over at their brother as they silently rose from their seats to go to the table. Ben joined them, deciding to give his oldest son a little space, but a frown had etched itself into his features.

When Adam came and sat down with them, he briefly described the work he'd done in the south section and although Ben tried to act like he was pleased to hear that all the busted fences had been mended in the area, the lines dug deeper into his forehead. That particular job, was one he'd expected would take two or three men and more than one working day. He didn't like to think about how hard Adam must have pushed himself to get it done.

Barely two words were said while the family ate their supper and Ben knew that his three sons were being quiet for very different reasons. Adam seemed far away in his thoughts, and Hoss was too busy enjoying Hop Sing's roast beef to talk. And then, of course, there was Joe. Ben peered over at his youngest, who was piercing the same green pea full of holes with his fork. Joe still looked pitiful and after delivering an impassioned lecture to the boy earlier, Ben had softened and given in to a little fatherly fussing. When he noticed that Joe's face was turning the color of the mutilated pea, he touched his arm and told him that he could leave the table. With a muted nod, Joe laid his napkin by his virtually untouched plate. When he got up and slowly headed for the stairs, Hoss grabbed his plate and tucked in, which didn't evoke so much as a raised eyebrow from his family.

After another few minutes of silence around the table, Ben spoke up.

"Well, Adam, since you finished the fence-mending in the south section today, I guess we can start on the east section tomorrow."

Adam faced his father and carefully swallowed a bite of potato.

"Actually Pa . . . I uh, was hoping to take a day off tomorrow. At least from around ten o'clock."

Sensing the uncertain tone in his brother's voice, Hoss looked up from Joe's plate.

"I see," Ben said, setting down his cutlery. "You have plans, I take it?"

"Yea I, well . . . I'm taking Madeline out for a picnic. We'll probably go to Silver Creek. I was gonna take the surrey."

While Ben discreetly wiped off his smile with a checkered napkin, Hoss smacked his fist down on the table and exclaimed, "I'll be dadburned!" The table-wear shook and he continued, "Joe bet two dollars on you askin' that little gal out here within this week and I bet on the next. You're a fast worker, that's for sure."

Adam had only just managed to save his fork from flying onto the floor at his big brother's outburst and he turned back to their father as if nothing had happened.

"You mind, Pa?"

"No, of course not, take the day and have fun," Ben said with a little chuckle.

"I reckon it'll cheer shortshanks up when he finds out he actually won a bet for once."

With a wide grin, Hoss stood from the table, leaving two cleaned plates behind.

The two remaining Cartwrights continued eating their supper.

"You know, Adam," Ben said after awhile, "you didn't have to get up at an ungodly hour and work until this evening just to have a day off tomorrow."

"That wasn't the only reason." Adam's voice was low, his tone hesitant. " I just . . . needed to."

Ben stopped eating and a sense of trepidation settled over him when his son wouldn't meet his gaze. He realized that his gut feeling had been correct and that Adam must have had a rough day and probably night. He asked nothing, he only regarded his boy with sympathy and affection. Things were improving, but there was no hiding the fact that Adam still had a long way to go.

Madeline stood in the foyer and readjusted the flower on top of her wide-brimmed straw hat. She tied the rose-colored ribbon under her chin and took a step back from the long mirror on the wall. Adam would be here any moment and she was convinced she'd forgotten something. . . something important. Her whirling thoughts drifted down the hall to the kitchen where the picnic basket stood, and she went through its contents in her mind.

Sandwiches, plates, napkins, lemonade . . . everything is ready!

Watching her reflection, she carefully smoothed down the front of her simple, pink skirt and rearranged the brown curls by her ears. The morning had flown by and now that it was only a couple of minutes to twelve o'clock, her stomach was acting like there were a hundred butterflies inside of her. The prospect of spending a whole afternoon alone with Adam was as exciting as it was unnerving, and when her fingers started fidgeting with the hem of her white blouse, she closed her eyes and forced herself to take a deep breath. The effort was pretty much wasted though because at that moment she heard horses pull up outside and her heart seemed to leap into her throat. She chanced a peek out of the window by the front door which stood ajar and saw Adam jump down from the surrey as her uncle called out to him from the porch. Facing the mirror again, she stared into her own eyes, willing herself to calm down. Then she went down the hall to get the picnic basket, her gait brisk and purposeful.

Paul was reclining in the white porch swing, one foot pushing it back and forth in a slow rhythm as he watched his friend come up the stairs.

"Well, at least you are punctual, Adam."

"What's the matter, Paul?" Adam crossed his arms and leaned against the porch railing. "Business a little slow when my brothers stay out of trouble?"

"Oh, how witty you are, my boy. Actually, I suspect that Widow Franklin forgot her appointment again, so I was just enjoying the pleasant weather before my next patient arrives."

"Well, that's probably a good thing, doc." Adam nodded in understanding. "A man gets to a certain age, he's gotta start fitting in breaks whenever he can."

Paul scoffed. "Remarks like that certainly won't improve my opinion of you!"

He feigned an appalled expression and then sensed tentative steps approaching from the front door behind him.

"Hello, Adam . . ."

The doctor watched in incredulous hilarity as the cheeky smirk vanished from Adam's face and the young man quickly straightened up, donning his most polite smile and gentlemanly air.

"Hi, Madeline . . ."

For a few seconds, Adam seemed unable to do anything other than gawk at Madeline's radiant appearance and then Paul actually had to cough to cover up his laugh when the dark Cartwright swiftly stepped forward, offering to take the picnic hamper she was holding.

"Madeline, dear, it's a good thing you showed up just now," Paul said, gesturing to Adam. "I was about to ask Adam about his intentions with you."

"Oh, Uncle Paul!"

Madeline blushed deeply, but Adam was too preoccupied with her loveliness to give the doctor's jibe any real attention.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," she replied with a small smile.

The two headed down the stairs and Paul rose from the porch swing, looking on as Adam placed the hamper in the surrey and then helped Madeline up. He went around to the other side of the wagon and when he jumped up and took his seat, the doctor raised his voice.

"I expect you to have her home at a decent hour, Adam!"

"Uncle, you must stop!"

Madeline's tone was urgent, and her eyes darted to her left, then right. She needn't have worried though—Paul had already checked and made sure that no one was within ear's reach. Adam chuckled and gave his friend a little wave while she just shook her head. A flick of the reins set the horses in motion and the surrey disappeared down the street. The smile faded from the doctor's face and his hand came up to scratch his scalp through his thinning hair as he returned to the swing. It would certainly take him some getting used to, sharing his niece with another man.

xXXx

The ride out of Virginia City was anything but pleasant. Madeline was very aware of the gaping and whispering going on around them and she couldn't help but wonder if it was all to do with her, or whether it went on simply because she was in the company of Adam Cartwright. Apparently, he'd noticed her discomfort because he turned his head and smiled reassuringly at her. When they finally left the last building behind and trailed down the dusty road, she grew visibly calmer without the prying eyes of the town on her.

However, her nervousness was still there, distracting her from the conversation he was trying so valiantly to strike up. The more she tried to relax, the worse it got. Her frustration with herself was building as the reasons for her unease appeared to pile up in her mind, making the little excursion seem even more daunting.

For one thing, it had been years since she'd gone alone on a social outing of this nature with a man. Aside from that, she was worried that Adam might ask her about her life in Georgia and that she would feel pressured to tell him what she still wasn't ready to speak about. All he really knew, was that both her parents had died of sudden illnesses and he'd probably heard that from his own family because her uncle had told them. Part of her wondered why he hadn't asked any questions about her past yet . . .

The third thing that added to her already jittering nerves, was that the man beside her was unlike anyone she'd ever met and just being in his presence made her feel all kinds of unsteady in a frightening, yet completely thrilling way.

"I'm sorry if you felt uncomfortable back there . . ."

His concerned voice filtered through her rioting thoughts and she realized that he'd given up on attempting the casual small talk.

Splendid, Madeline . . . Well done.

"That's all right. It probably wasn't as bad as I think it was." She turned to him, but her gaze rested somewhere just below his eyes. "I feel that my accompanying you was rather unpopular with the women of Virginia City."

"The women? Actually, I only noticed the envious stares from all the men." He gave her a crooked smile. "Not that I blame them."

His words had the desired effect when her lips curved a little.

"It does not bother you? People discussing you, observing you that way?"

He shrugged and looked back at the road.

"I suppose it's always been like that with my family, for my brothers too. Kinda comes with the territory. It's worse now though, since I got back."

His eyes pinched at the corners and his lips became a tight line. She knew that he was thinking about the buzz his sharpshooting display had caused. Although the event still intrigued her, she wouldn't bring it up just now, knowing what his reaction would be.

Suddenly, his expression changed, and a devilish gleam appeared in his eyes instead.

"Well, now the Women's Social Club will be kept entertained at least. I know exactly what will be said."

"Oh, and what is that?"

Madeline watched as he drew back his shoulders and tipped his nose upward, pitching his naturally deep voice into something resembling a sudden falsetto.

"There goes Adam Cartwright, the rascal! Leading that respectable, little Miss Delaney astray. We must pray for them both!"

She was completely stunned by his demonstration—so far from anything she would have expected from him—and then an inevitable, pearly laughter escaped her mouth.

"Adam! That is hardly polite to Mrs. Stewart."

He seemed to find it incredibly funny that she immediately knew whom he had imitated, but he made an effort to control himself.

"You are right of course, Miss." He dropped his head in a weak attempt at looking remorseful. "I apologize for my lack of tact."

"I will accept your apology on her behalf." Madeline turned to the road ahead. "I also suggest that you work on your pitch. It isn't quite high enough."

This time, he turned a wide-eyed look onto her and they simultaneously started laughing as the wagon continued on its rumbling way.

After that, Madeline truly relaxed and stopped overthinking the situation, focusing instead on the only thing that mattered—Adam's company and how much she enjoyed it. When they crossed the borders of the Ponderosa, she began observing him out of the corner of her eye. His black shirtsleeves were rolled up almost to his elbows, revealing his tanned skin and strong forearms which were proof of the countless hours he'd spent working in the sun. Her gaze lifted as she took in his profile and strong jawline. He wasn't the clean-shaven and finely dressed Adam she'd gotten used to seeing. Today, he was dressed all in black, just like she'd seen him twice before and there were the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow covering his cheek and chin. Looking at him now, she instinctively knew that he was in his element, and she still found him devastatingly good-looking, perhaps even a little more so for that reason. Not wanting to push her luck, she turned away and surveyed the impressive scenery instead, thinking it was quite a miracle that he hadn't caught her watching him.

Adam began pointing out areas and special landmarks to her, explaining their history and significance. She listened in fascination, almost unable to believe that all this magnificent land belonged to him and his family. Her delight was evident when the surrey turned off the road and entered a meadow sprinkled with wildflowers. Splashes of blue and lilac dotted the sea of dark green and the meadow was rimmed by majestic pine trees, which provided shade and gave the area a sense of seclusion. It was as if they'd driven off the trail and entered a little private world on the Ponderosa.

Adam pulled up the horses at the opposite end of the meadow, just by a creek, and Madeline was awed by the view. The free-flowing water was clear as the air above it and speckled in the stream, were rough grey rocks which looked almost silvery as they glistened in the sun. At the left end of the creek, was a sloping rock-face where a liquid staircase of waterfalls ran down its middle.

"This place is breathtaking!"

She turned to Adam, her face alight with exhilaration and he was clearly pleased by her reaction.

"We call it Silver Creek because of the color of the rocks." He pointed to the other side of the stream, a little further down the bank. "I used to take my brothers fishing over there a lot when we were kids."

Madeline followed his finger's direction and smiled, trying to picture the handsome boy he must have been. He jumped off the surrey and came around to the other side to help her down, his hands lingering around her waist for a moment when she touched the ground. He took the picnic hamper and she held the wool blanket against her front as they headed over to a massive oak standing on the grassy bank. After putting down the blanket, she absentmindedly began undoing the ribbon bow under her chin as she looked out across the water. Removing the straw hat, she turned around and saw that he was watching her with an absorbed expression. She tilted her head to the side in question, her rosy lips quirking, and his eyes shot to hers. The bashful look that suddenly seized his face was one she thought utterly adorable.

"I, uh . . . I'll just see to the horses . . ."

He hooked a thumb over his shoulder and as he fled to the surrey, she recognized that what she'd just seen was probably the closest Adam Cartwright came to blushing. She wondered what he'd been thinking . . .

When he came back over a couple of minutes later, she'd spread out the blanket next to the wide tree trunk and she was sitting on her knees, her skirt laying in pink waves around her.

"I hope you are hungry?"

"Starving," he said and dropped down next to her while she took the items out of the basket. "I worked around the house most of the morning and didn't have a full breakfast."

She handed him a bottle of lemonade with two glasses and he poured the drinks while she laid the different sandwiches out on a platter.

"I made a variety, I wasn't sure what you'd prefer."

Adam eyed the big assortment of snacks appreciatively.

"It all looks really good. If Hoss could see this feast . . . he probably would have cleaned out the whole plate before I even got a bite."

"Well, I made an extra batch of turnovers and left them at home. I thought maybe you could take them back to your family later." She rummaged through the hamper. "I have some snacks for Sport too, I am sure he can share with his friend."

She glanced over and noticed that Sport was untied and without a bridle, standing next to the grey mare whose reins were wrapped around a tree branch. Adam removed his black Stetson and saw what she was looking at.

"I thought that since I got to spend the afternoon with you, I should bring Sport one of Hoss' fillies to keep him happy," Adam said, stretching his hands out behind him as he leaned back. "I doubt he would have left us alone if I hadn't, he seems to be quite taken with you."

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm. He keeps throwing little looks over here."

One side of Adam's mouth lifted, and he let out a soft whistle. The big chestnut's ears instantly perked up and he turned away from the mare, moving in the direction of his master's call. But when he trotted over and Adam held out his hand, Sport blatantly ignored him and instead dipped his muzzle down into Madeline's palm.

"See what I mean?"

Madeline giggled and her eyes sparkled as she murmured quiet praise to the horse and stroked his nose. She held out a red apple and Sport grabbed it with his mouth and began chewing. Within a few seconds, the fruit was gone and he nuzzled Madeline's hand again, looking for another treat. Adam leaned over and clapped the horse's neck.

"All right, you've had your treat, now get outta here."

Sport tossed his head, snorting at his master's tone and waving hand gesture before he trotted back to his female friend. Madeline found their relationship extremely entertaining to watch—she hadn't seen anything like it before.

As Adam bit into a roast beef sandwich, she sipped her lemonade and asked him more about the history of the Ponderosa and his family. Her uncle had told her a lot already, but it was different hearing it all from him. He described the early years of living on the Ponderosa and how it had always been his father's dream to come to the West. The fond way he talked of his brothers confirmed what she'd already guessed about how close the three were, and he spoke with admiration and respect about his father. Her heart ached for him when he briefly related how Hoss' and Joe's mothers had died, his voice taking on a mechanical tone as he skillfully distanced any emotion from the words. She knew more details from her uncle than what Adam told her, but she didn't reveal it.

His mood quickly improved when she instead asked him about West Point. The time he'd spent at the military academy was obviously a source of great pride to him and she highly enjoyed hearing about it. It was odd, on the ride out here, she'd seen only Adam Cartwright the cowboy, but by the way he spoke, she realized that although the cowboy was in his element here on the Ponderosa—the soldier was very much out of his. She was pondering over that notion and taken off guard when he inclined his head in a "your turn" gesture.

There was no way she could avoid sharing at least something about her life and personal history, and she found that she actually wanted to tell him a bit about herself. So, she spoke of where she'd grown up in one of the upper-class neighborhoods in Augusta, Georgia, and he observed her with a curiously intent look as he soaked up every word.

She noted that his brow wrinkled when she referred to the maid in her parents' household who had taught her how to sew and embroider. Then suddenly, it dawned on her what he wanted to ask. Before he got the chance, she informed him that her parents hadn't kept slaves and even as she spoke, it became awkwardly obvious to her that he'd probably wondered about that for a while. And why wouldn't he? After all, it had been one of the reasons why he'd risked his life—to ensure that slavery met its end. She could be nothing but honest with him on that particular matter and explained that although her parents hadn't kept slaves themselves, they'd had many friends who did, and their inhumane views on black people were ones she had never understood or agreed with.

She was surprised when Adam simply half smiled and gently urged her to continue. Only, she found that she couldn't. The subjects of her childhood and girlhood were practically exhausted, and she was now moving into dangerous territory. The thought of him knowing what her life had been like for the last few years made panic well up inside her, like a violent river threatening to overflow its fragile banks. He must have seen it because he quite abruptly turned the talk onto her uncle and how happy he seemed to be with having her around. She was grateful for it and they chatted about lighthearted matters as they finished their meal.

Well over an hour had passed when Madeline began wrapping up the leftover sandwiches. Adam was leaning back against the tree trunk, one black-clad leg straightened out in front of him while the other was bent at the knee, his arm dangling across it.

"Are you sure that you've had enough?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you. That was the finest picnic I've ever had."

"You are welcome. It was the least I could do after all the kindness you have shown me." Madeline noticed a couple of Mountain Bluebirds cheeping and dancing around each other on the opposite side of the trickling creek. "I am so very pleased that we came here. I can't imagine a sight more beautiful than this. No wonder you and your brothers are fond of this place."

"We've been coming here since Joe was just a few inches from the ground." With a wistful smile, he went on. "Boy, was he a handful. Well, he still is now at times. At least that's what Hoss tells me." He bowed his head slightly, his smile gone. "I . . . haven't exactly been around to see it much for myself . . ."

Seeing the sorrow that shaded his face made her throat tighten around a sudden lump. There was no conscious thought behind the words that pushed past her lips, they came from her heart, not her mind.

"You did the best you could, I am sure he knows that. Everyone does . . ."

He didn't respond at first and she wasn't sure if he had even heard her. But then his head lifted and as he looked directly at her, she felt relived that she was sitting down. When she had first met him, she'd been mesmerized by the unique color of his eyes—a beautiful blend of light and dark. They were dark and deep just around the pupils and from there, swirls of different browns spread out to the rings of gold, touched by dark green, which circled his irises. They held secrets, those eyes, and so much emotion and right now, they had a special glimmer to them which brightened their hazel intensity.

"You," he suddenly said.

" . . .Pardon me?"

"A sight more beautiful than this place . . . it's you. You are more beautiful than anything around here."

Her countenance shifted from confusion to one of startled bewilderment. "I am not worthy of such a compliment . . ."

"You don't even realize it, do you?"

There was such wonder in his tone and he shifted his body nearer to hers.

"Madeline, I have never met a woman like you in all my life. So kind . . . clever . . . compassionate."

"Oh, Adam, please."

She shook her head, sending the curling tendrils dancing against her blushing cheeks.

"Modest . . ." He continued insistently as a dimple came out of hiding on his stubble-shaded cheek.

"Modest? And what about you? Your skills with rifles must be exceptionally rare, even for West Point."

"All right." He held her gaze, dipping his head. "I learned from the very best and I became one of them. I worked hard at it, still do. We all have our areas of expertise."

"It seems that there are a number of fields in which you are talented."

There was no mistaking the admiration in her soft-spoken words and he slowly leaned closer to her. Her treacherous eyes lowered to his mouth where she noticed a very faint, vertical scar on the left side of his upper lip. His voice had gone to that intimate place again, like she'd heard it once before.

"Well, I can't say if that is true or not. Nonetheless, your esteem means a great deal to me, Madeline."

"I . . . why?"

It was hardly a word, more of a shaky whisper and his smile inched a little higher.

"You know why."

Her small fingers were suddenly engulfed in the calloused warmth of his hand and their faces were close enough to share the same breath. That was probably a good thing because his near proximity seemed to pull the air straight from her lungs. At that second, he was all that existed, the only thing her senses allowed her to take in. The birds ceased their cheeping, the creek stopped trickling and the earthy smell of the grass surrendered to his masculine scent layered with leather, a ghost of bay rum cologne and that undefinable something which was entirely his own. Only him, his scent, those eyes.

"May I?"

A tiny nod was all she could give in response to his whispered request. She closed her eyes—looking at him was simply too much—and then it happened. A brush of warmth against her lips, reminiscent of a feather's light touch at first. But the maddening tickle sensation that spread all the way to her toes was unlike anything she had ever felt before. The initial brush became firmer as it evolved into a gentle pressure and a sudden electric rush ran through her at the feeling of his chin lightly scratching hers. It probably only lasted a couple of seconds, although the concept of time had become immeasurable as in dreams and when he pulled away, it took a moment before her eyes opened. She stared at his look of contentment, amazed at the emotions wreaking havoc inside her while his thumb stroked her knuckles in a rhythmic motion.

"I should probably get you back home before Paul comes looking for me."

His words were heavy with regret and once she got her own mouth working, her speech came out less in control than she would have wanted.

"Yes . . . it is getting late."

He shifted and got to his feet, still holding her hand. She let him pull her up and it took all her effort not to look at the enticing dark hairs peeking out from the unbuttoned top of his shirt.

"I'll go and get the horses ready."

He let go of her hand, reached down to pick up his black hat and walked over to the surrey. She began packing the rest of the picnic items, but continued to glance over at him and when he caught her eye she didn't look away. And she didn't blush.

The conversation on the ride home was comfortable and unforced, both of them feeling that a change had happened between them. They had moved into a new stage and Madeline felt strangely at peace with it, somehow knowing that in spite of all her worries and her apprehension—nothing could have prevented it in the end. When the outskirts of Virginia City came into view, it was close to six o'clock and Madeline became quiet. All of a sudden, all she could think about was that they had no further engagements planned after today and that she didn't know when she would see him again.

"Well, here we go," Adam said, "are you ready to liven up the town a bit with a new round of gossip?"

It was just a joke, she recognized that, but she only managed a tepid smile in return.

"Yes, I suppose so. Perhaps people will have lost interest."

"Mmmh."

Adam eyed the looming buildings skeptically when she spoke his name softly.

"Adam?"

"Yes?"

"Will you . . . will you perhaps be visiting town again this week or . . .?"

She was unaware of the smirk he bit back before he faced her.

"Well, I guess that depends on a number of things. A ranch like the Ponderosa keeps a guy real busy."

"Yes, of course. I understand," she said quietly.

The clattering of hooves and the sound of the surrey's wheels turning were the only sounds between them for several seconds.

"Do you want me to visit town again this week, Madeline?"

Something in his tone made her look over at him and seeing the gentle teasing in his appearance made her smile.

"Yes, I do. Very much."

"In that case, I'll be around."

As they entered town, the whispering and scrutinizing had little to no effect on Madeline. She'd had one of the best afternoons she could ever remember, and it was all because of the man sitting beside her.