Author's Notes

Hello everyone! I'm sorry about the delay on this chapter, but life has been busy. Here is a long one though, so I hope that makes up for it a bit.

I am so very excited about all the reviews from you, and I want to thank you all again, Members and Guests! It's a little daunting putting a first story out there, but your great feedback keeps me motivated and I will continue to do my best!

Chapter 14

"Madeline, do these biscuits look done to you?"

Paul glanced at his niece as she came over to take a look at the tray he had just removed from the oven.

"They look perfect! You are really getting the hang of this baking business, see?"

"Hardly, I only followed your instructions precisely. After I ruined the first two batches."

Madeline smiled at him and leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. He appraised her with crinkling eyes as she went to check on the pot of vegetables boiling on the stove.

"You're certainly in a very good mood this evening."

"Well, it has been a very good afternoon," she said simply as she peeked at the carrots and green beans.

"Yes, I know. But what I meant to say was that you've been in high spirits all day." He walked over and sat down on one of the chairs by the table, which had already been set. "Actually, you've been like this ever since yesterday when I came home . . ."

She put the lid back on the pot and turned around to him. "I suppose I just . . . some things just fell into place yesterday and I realized that I have much reason to be happy, Uncle Paul. I have a home here with you, a new job at Sally's restaurant and I feel that I'm finally settling in here in Virginia City and making new acquaintances." A toothy smile appeared, and her eyelids lowered to half-closed. "And then there is Adam . . ."

"Yes. And then there is Adam." Paul watched her, and his voice was filled with tenderness. "It's so wonderful to see you doing so well, my Belle."

Her smile suddenly faded and she gave him a serious look. "None of this would be, if not for you."

"It was the best decision of my life, tracking you down, Madeline. Not just for your sake, but for my own as well."

"And I am forever grateful that you did."

The sides of her mouth quirked upwards again and she turned back to the stove to check the other pots.

"You know," Paul said, still observing her. "I believe you would have won that competition a second time with this one if you'd entered it."

He nodded at the cranberry-red dress she was wearing, admiring the delicate rosettes decorating the flounced skirt.

"Oh, this is quite a simple dress. As much as I love you, I believe it is just as well that you weren't judging that contest. I could have entered a cheap cotton flour-sack and you would still have announced me the winner."

"Madeline, you could walk down C Street wearing a cheap cotton flour-sack and you would still be the most beautiful woman in the state."

He chuckled when her eyes widened at the very notion of her doing such a thing and the sound of a knock on the front door interrupted his fun. Paul frowned, pulling out his pocket watch.

"Well, I daresay he is showing exceptional punctuality these days. He never used to be like that when it was just me living here."

"Now, Uncle Paul . . ." Madeline faced him, crossing her arms. "You said that you would be nice . . ."

"I am a doctor, Madeline. I'm a nice man by nature." He rose from the chair. "And a patient one too. Lord knows, I need those qualities at this time in my life."

She shook her head with a little laugh, and he left her to watch things in the kitchen. Taking his time, he walked down the hall to the foyer and opened the front door. He was met by the sight of a clean-shaven Adam, dressed in black pants and a white shirt. Paul eyed the bouquet of red roses the young man was holding and quickly clasped a hand to his chest.

"Why Adam, you shouldn't have!"

Adam just smiled, unflustered.

"You look lovely this evening, Paul."

He tried, he really did, but Paul couldn't hold back his laugh at that and Madeline suddenly came up behind him.

"Hi, Adam . . ." She noticed the flowers and her eyes shone with delight. "Are those for me?"

Adam stepped closer and handed her the roses.

"Yes, we have a little flowerbed at the back of the house and Hop Sing takes good care of it. You look beautiful, Madeline."

"They are wonderful. Thank you . . ."

Paul shifted, sensing some odd, private communication pass between them and he wondered if he was imagining it.

"Come inside," Madeline said cheerfully, "supper is almost ready."

The doctor and Adam followed her to the kitchen, falling into that familiar, casual conversation that came so naturally after having known each other for more than fifteen years. While Madeline was rummaging around to find a vase for the flowers, the two men small-talked, but Paul could tell that there was something specific on Adam's mind and he already knew what it was. When the young man finally asked how the dressmaking competition had gone, Paul tipped his head up with a small smile as he looked over at his niece, waiting for her to share the news. Madeline set down the vase with the roses and looked shyly at Adam.

"It . . . yes, it went rather well . . . my dress was announced the winner."

Paul watched Adam's reaction closely, seeing him freeze for a second and then move over to Madeline in three quick steps.

"You won?!"

Madeline nodded, giggling a bit at his evident elation and he gripped both her hands tightly.

"We told you that dress was magnificent—now will you start believing how talented you are?"

"I honestly never expected to win, there were so many beautiful gowns . . ."

Paul harrumphed and spoke up then, letting his heartfelt pride soak his words.

"There was a 200-dollar prize for the winner, but Madeline decided to give the money to the club to use as they see fit."

Adam had glanced over at him, but then turned back to Madeline and the doctor would have had to be blind not to see the utter admiration aglow in the Cartwright's eyes.

"I know that the money will be put to good use there," Madeline said, dipping her head. "The club works hard to aid a number of charities and good causes."

"I am so happy for you, Madeline . . ."

When Paul saw his niece look up at Adam, he knew he wasn't imagining things. Something was definitely different between them. She wasn't blushing, and her eyes were fastened to his, the affection palpable in both their expressions. The doctor rubbed a palm along the side of his face, his mind churning as he tried to work out what on earth had happened and not to mention—when. Something must have taken place yesterday when he'd seen them walking down the street together. He hadn't revealed to Madeline that he'd seen them—he had hoped that she would tell him about it herself. Whatever it was though, Paul sensed that something had happened at the social club's meeting and it had meant some sort of change between Adam and her. As he watched them now, he remained quiet throughout their prolonged eye-contact until Madeline's gaze flickered over to him and she delicately pulled her hands free from Adam's.

Adam just stood there with a wide grin stuck on him, still so absorbed in his joy for her.

"And I am happy for you too, my dear," Paul said, trying to keep his confusion from showing. "You truly deserved to win. It's just a shame that we don't really have many events around these parts where you can show off that dress."

"Yea, I agree . . ."

The doctor faced Adam who was giving Madeline that smitten look again.

"So, Adam," he said, quite abruptly, motioning for him to sit down at the table, "How are things at the Ponderosa?"

He did catch the slightly exasperated smile his niece regarded him with, but Paul just sat down in a chair and waited, eyeing the young man. Adam took the rather unsubtle hint and walked over to sit down too. He then gave an update on things at the ranch and his family. While Paul listened, he couldn't miss the way Adam's attention seemed to still be on Madeline as she put the finishing touches on their supper and he got the feeling that he could vanish in a puff of smoke right then and there—and the Cartwright probably wouldn't even notice.

Paul knew then, and it suddenly seemed ridiculously obvious. Over the years, he had seen Adam be captivated by maybe a handful of women. But this was something much more, on a whole different level. He had never witnessed Adam act the way he did now and it was all too clear, what it meant. But even though he was happy for his friend, just as he was for his beloved niece, there was a little pang of hurt in Paul's heart that couldn't be ignored and he wondered if it would ever really go away.

Over the next couple of weeks, Adam became a frequent guest at the doctor's house and often stayed for supper. Mostly, he came by on every second or third day but there never went more than four before he and Madeline saw each other. Paul occasionally gave him a bit of a hard time, but he couldn't help it despite the looks of displeasure Madeline aimed at him. Adam was undaunted though, and completely enraptured by this incredible southern belle who'd become the centerpiece of his life. He responded graciously to Paul's mild jabs and found time to challenge him to a few games of chess on those evening visits since he knew how much his old friend enjoyed the pastime.

Although Adam wasn't fully aware of it, his friends and family clearly saw the impact Madeline was having on him and especially Hoss and Joe were entertained by the very charitable side of his character she seemed to bring out. He simply didn't react as he usually would to their increased teasing and it was quite mind-boggling to see their tough older brother—who was known for his quite severe and serious demeanor—demonstrate such tolerance towards them as well as their mutual friends and the gossipers in town.

There was one afternoon where the two brothers had run into Roy in the saloon and during their talk, he'd relayed their oldest sibling's pie-making endeavor to them. The three men had shared a belly-aching laugh and when Hoss and Joe had confronted Adam about it later, he'd simply shrugged and said that the pie had turned out perfect.

Adam was indeed doing well. He didn't draw into himself as often and the days he went to visit Madeline were always good days for everyone around him. Whenever they had time for it, he would go to Virginia City and pick Madeline up in the surrey so they could take rides out to the Ponderosa. As the two spent more and more time together, his need for her continued to grow. When he was without her, he craved the sound of her voice, her laughter, her quick wit and natural calmness—everything about her. And he constantly longed to lose himself in the softness of her lips. It was like her simple presence eased the heavy burden he had been carrying around for so long that he'd forgotten what it felt like to be without it. Sometimes, when they visited Silver Creek, which had become one of Madeline's favorite places, he felt almost free of that crushing weight and he could spend hours with her, just soaking up that distant emotion blooming inside. Happiness.

She had become his refuge; she brought him as close as he could ever get to feeling carefree, at least as close as his reserved nature would allow. That also meant, that when a bad mood did overcome him or when one of his still rarer nightmares was triggered—he felt that daunting weight pressing down even more than it had before he'd met her. On those occasions, he was caught in the dilemma of wanting to see her because he knew it would make him feel better, yet denying himself her comfort because of his fear that he would lose that tight control he kept on his inner demons.

As a soldier, he'd faced terrors that most people on the outside would never be able to grasp, but the idea of her seeing that side of him, the utter darkness he kept locked up inside, was one he found truly frightening. He was afraid of how she'd react if she knew about all that suffering—the pain he'd experienced and inflicted—that darkness within him. Yet a part of him wanted to tell her those things. And that in itself, was disconcerting to him.

When he wasn't with Madeline, Adam kept himself busy with working around the ranch but also spent time with his family. He kept in close contact with Jim, but he'd picked up on the fact that the correspondence seemed to bother his father. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what was wrong, but any time there was something in the mail for him, his pa would become quiet and when Adam wrote his own replies, he often felt the sharp coffee eyes on him. Whenever he asked his father if anything was the matter, the older man just dismissed the inquiry and busied himself with something or other. For that reason, Adam had taken to reading any army related letters in the privacy of his own room.

He continued to have mixed emotions about the conformation that his company was moving out west in a few months and it was impossible to prevent the speculations from forming in his head. At what fort would they be stationed? What type of military strategy against the Indians would be planned? Who would be handling the peace negotiations?

His family knew about Jim's letter, but what Adam had kept secret, was the other letter he had received from one of his friends—a general he'd known since West Point. General Thomas had very plainly stated that if Adam could possibly want it, he would be welcomed back to the army without hesitation. The strong encouragement entwined between the written words was apparent. General Thomas' letter, along with Jim's, stirred the nagging doubt that had been present in the back of Adam's mind for months. But he was finally home, reunited with his family and now he also had Madeline. As he took those things into consideration, he just couldn't see himself leaving all that behind.

He knew that he had fallen in love with her, it was as simple as that. It was one of the few things in his life that he was sure of. How he felt about Madeline. And he also knew, that he would be a fool to let her slip away from him. And he had no intention of letting that happen.

One Saturday afternoon in August, Paul drove his surrey into the yard of the Ponderosa house. Madeline waved at a pair of cowhands as they came out of the bunkhouse and the two men quickly took off their hats and nodded in greeting. Paul had just stepped down from the surrey when Ben came out of the house and walked towards them.

"Well, aren't you two a fine sight! It's so good to see you both!"

"Hello Ben," Paul said, holding up a hand to help Madeline down. "I know this business visit didn't really require a nurse, but I didn't think you'd mind that I brought this one along. She was most insistent. I wonder why."

Ben came over and placed both hands on Madeline's shoulders, giving them a little squeeze.

"Madeline, your loveliness is a very welcome diversion for me right now. I've been stuck working on some accounts since this morning. Though I doubt that I was the person you most came to see."

"You know I always enjoy seeing you, Ben," she said, smiling brilliantly at him. "But I won't deny that I came to see a particular man of your household today."

"Yes, I'm afraid he isn't here right now but—"

"Hop Sing," she interrupted.

Ben's mouth hung open as his hands dropped down to his sides and Madeline laughed, turning back to grab a package from the surrey.

"I have a little something for him."

She held the item in her arms and Ben chuckled as he met Paul's twinkling eyes.

"Well, I'm sure that Hop Sing will be very pleased to see you." Ben smiled and pointed over at the house. "I think he is hanging out some laundry around the back of the house. There's a door in the kitchen you can go out through. I better go with your uncle and help out. Harry has been dreading this doctor's visit all morning."

"If the old blockhead had stayed off that busted leg as I told him to last week, this visit wouldn't be necessary," Paul cut in and gripped the handle of his black doctor's bag. "I do believe he is my third worst patient." He turned to his friend, his face scrunched up in suspicion as if he'd caught a whiff of something fishy. "Explain that to me Ben, that my top three are all located here at the Ponderosa?"

Ben laid a placating hand on the doctor's shoulder and steered him towards the bunkhouse.

"That I can't do, Paul. But this ranch would be lost without you, that's for sure."

They walked off and Madeline watched them fondly for a moment, then headed to the porch. She went inside the house and untied the blue ribbon under her chin, placing her straw hat on the dresser just by the front door. Only Ben's hat was hanging up on one of the hooks on the wall, so she guessed that Adam was out working with Hoss and Joe. With the package in her arms, she walked to the dining room and through to the kitchen where there was an open door leading outside. Stepping through the doorway, she instantly loved the secluded garden laid out before her. There was a well to her right and a wooden bench stood on the other side of the garden in the line of pine trees forming a half-circle around the house. A warm wave spread through her when she saw the flowerbed of red roses where Adam had picked a bouquet for her from a few weeks ago.

"Missy Madeline!"

The surprised voice pulled her out of the memory and she spotted Hop Sing waving at her over by a washing line tied between two trees. She went over to him, her gait keen and her smile wide.

"Hello, Hop Sing, how are you?"

"Hop Sing velly good, you come visit, he even better!"

"It's nice to see you too," she said in that genuine tone that could make any person she addressed feel like they were someone truly special. "I just came by to give you something."

She undid the string around the brown package and the little cook's sudden curiosity set his feet in motion as he scuffled closer to her. She held the now open package out for him to take.

"This . . . is for me?"

"Yes, it's only a little thing. If you do not like it, I can take it back with me."

His nimble fingers grasped the white cotton with hesitance and when he cautiously held it up in front of himself, his naturally wise, almond-shaped eyes widened into rounded astonishment. In his hands was a crisp, white apron, adorned with spectacular embroidery along the front. The center motif was of two dragons facing one another; one gold, and one silver, their twisting tails entwined and around them were flowing patterns which he recognized as being from the Yue school of Chinese embroidery. The gold and silver threads were stitched finely into the fabric and the smooth lines gave the decoration a tranquil impression. Madeline gazed out at the garden when she sensed that her gift was having an emotional impact on him and she wondered if he would have preferred to open it in privacy.

"Missy Madeline . . . made this for Hop Sing?"

"Yes, as a small thank you for being so nice to me. And after all, you did lend my uncle one of your cookbooks which I still don't know when will be returned to you."

Hop Sing nodded quietly, then folded the material with infinite care and wrapped it up again. He held it in his arms and then bowed deeply, his long black ponytail falling down to hang past his face, almost touching the ground.

"This is most beautiful gift I ever receive. Words are too few for Hop Sing to describe. Thank you, Missy Madeline."

"You are very welcome, I am pleased that you like it. It was the least I could do really, I have been enjoying your recipe book very much too."

The little man straightened up. "Velly good, you keep book, honorable Doctor Martin need practice," he said generously.

"Thank you, that's very kind of you, Hop Sing."

He carefully placed the package in the empty basket on the ground where the wet clothes had been in minutes before. A mild breeze blew past the clothes hanging on the washing line, bringing the scent of soap with it as it brushed across Madeline's face. She stood quietly as the Cantonese straightened a few items hanging from the line and a small sigh escaped her when her eyes fell on three black shirts. She happened to look over at a big, white shirt which could only be Hoss', and noticed that it had a hole by the seam at the left side. Raising a hand, she touched the tear absentmindedly when Hop Sing saw what she was doing.

"Big boys! All the time they work hard and play rough, make extra work! Hop Sing cook, not seamstress!"

The following head-shake made his black ponytail dance sideways along his back as he lifted a pair of brown pants towards her. "Mr. Hoss rip holes in shirt, Little Joe ruin pants every two weeks, when he forget to wear chaps!"

Madeline realized what he meant when she saw the ripped seam running along the side of the pant-leg.

"And Mr. Adam no better!" The cook grabbed at one of the black shirts and showed her where the buttons on the cuffs were hanging onto the fabric by threads and that three buttons at the bottom of the shirt had fallen off completely.

"He roll sleeves up and stuff shirt in pants, say to me it no matter when he just work!"

Madeline stroked the damp, black cloth, her mouth curving as she imagined Adam saying just that.

"Hop Sing . . . why don't you gather the clothes that need mending, and I can take them back with me? It won't take me long at all to fix these little things."

"Oh, Missy Madeline no, you already do too much for me!"

"Come now, we are friends, are we not? Really, I insist. I would like to do this."

Hop Sing wavered a little, but in the end he knew that it would take him hours to do what Madeline could most likely do in less than half that time.

"All light. I get other clothes and get ready for you to take."

"Good."

He picked up the basket and she followed him back into the house. While he continued to the washroom through the kitchen, Madeline went into the sitting room just as Ben and her uncle came through the front door.

"Well, that was quick," she said, "I hope Mr. Harold is feeling better?"

Paul grunted at her, dropping his bag on the floor with a dull thud. "Hmpf. That old galoot seemed to think I could perform miracles. He will have to stick it out now, but I did give him something for the pain. Just to keep him quiet."

"Yes, he certainly did give you a bit of an earful."

Ben patted the doctor's tense shoulder. An idea suddenly struck him, and he rubbed his chin as he looked at Madeline, although he spoke to his old friend.

"Hmm, I think I know just the thing to help you unwind after that unpleasant episode, Paul . . ."

"Oh? Please do tell, Ben."

"A trip to Pine Valley. The view there is so serene, it'll relax you immediately, I guarantee it."

The corners of Paul's mouth drifted downwards and the sound vibrating from his throat was tinged with skepticism.

"Mm-hmmmmm . . .?"

"Ah yes, and the boys are there. Adam is doing some shooting practice."

Paul glanced at Madeline whose face lit up in that special way where her heart was set on an idea.

He turned back to Ben. "And just how do you imagine that fact will calm my spirits?"

"Oh, Uncle Paul, it would be so lovely! I have never been to this Pine Valley. We are in no rush to get back home, are we?"

It would take some kind of man to deny his adorable niece when she had that look in her eyes. Paul Martin was decidedly not that man. His shoulders sagged, and he let out an over-exaggerated breath.

"All right. Let's go then."

Ben risked a subtle wink at Madeline and she grinned back at him. She quickly went to get her straw hat from the dresser—the bounce in her step obvious to both men.

"I'll just ask Hop Sing to pack us some refreshments," he said, "it's very hot today and I'm sure the boys will appreciate it."

Ben went off to the kitchen and Paul and Madeline stepped outside onto the porch to wait. The doctor noticed how she seemed to take a sudden, extra interest in her appearance as she fidgeted first with her blue checkered skirt and then her white blouse. When she raised her head, she gazed unseeing out across the yard, wearing a faint, soft smile. It was a smile Paul had come to know very well and whatever personal issues he had with the growing romance between his niece and the dark Cartwright—that smile certainly made things easier on him.

xXXx

Half an hour later, the surrey was rambling down Pine Valley. It was easy to see how the area got its name; there were huge, dark green pines scattered across the land and Madeline was rendered speechless when Ben told her that most of those trees had been around for hundreds of years. They were riding along a bumpy trail in between a river on their left and a sloping rock-face to their right and in the distance was a view of the breathtaking mountains, the peaks of which were covered in floating whiteness.

Madeline was so caught up in the spellbinding scenery, that when a shot all of a sudden echoed down the valley, she startled and instinctively grabbed her uncle's arm.

"It's all right, dear," Ben said from beside the surrey where he was riding on his horse, "that must be Adam. There will probably be another one in a minute."

She quickly settled down again and when another shot indeed rang out a minute later, she was prepared for it.

They reached a point where the river widened as the trail rounded a curve along the rock-face and there—in the shade of some trees up ahead—stood Joe's horse, Cochise. The pinto was grazing lazily, loosely tied to a branch while Sport was off by himself, untied, grazing a little further away.

Joe and Adam were standing a little further down the valley with their backs to the trail. The younger brother heard the surrey coming from behind and he turned around and waved at them while Adam sighted down his rifle, aiming somewhere in the distance straight down the valley. He squeezed the trigger just as Paul pulled up the horses and Ben halted Buck. As soon as the shot fired, he shook his head and opened the breach of the rifle to inspect it. Joe walked closer to him and said something, touching his shoulder. When Adam spun around, the frowning concentration vanished from his face to be replaced by stunned delight when he locked eyes with Madeline. The two brothers began walking towards the newcomers while Ben dismounted and helped Madeline down.

"That's our Pa," Joe said, smacking Adam on the back as they neared. "We disappear for a few hours—he comes looking for us and brings a doctor AND a nurse along with him!"

Paul scoffed and stepped down onto the ground.

"Don't you worry young man, my business is closed for the rest of the day barring any emergencies."

Ben and Joe laughed, but Adam was a little too preoccupied to take part in their humor. Madeline gazed up at him from beneath the wide brim of her hat as he stopped in front of her. They both said "hi" at the same time which was of great amusement to Joe, but his older brother didn't even acknowledge him.

"I was going to come by this evening," Adam said. "But I'm glad to see you now . . ."

"Uncle Paul was coming out here anyway to see your foreman Mr. Harold, so I thought I'd join him."

"Oh?" Joe faced the doctor. "How'd old Harry take it, doc?" he asked, crossing his arms with a devilish gleam.

"Joseph," Ben broke in before his boisterous youngest triggered a repeat of the scorching bad temper Paul had displayed in the bunkhouse earlier, "Harry is on the mend and I think we should consider that matter quite closed."

He peeked over at Paul who seemed to be trying to take in the serene air of the entire valley in one single breath. The sudden sound of hoof-beats approaching drew everyone's attention to Hoss as he came riding towards them on Chub. He brought the horse to a stop in front of the group and gave Madeline and Paul one of his trademark gap-toothed grins.

"Hey there doc, Madeline." He nodded at them, then turned to his older brother. "Adam, I was plumb confused there for a minute when ya stopped shootin', but I reckon I know why now."

He tipped his hat at Madeline and she couldn't quite keep the blush from her cheeks. She discreetly glanced over at Adam, but realized that he wasn't even looking at Hoss—only at her.

"How'd he do, Hoss?" Joe asked.

"I'll be dadburned. He was in the bulls-eye with every single one, except that last bullet was in the ring just outside."

That sentence did seem to get through to Adam and he lifted the gun which had been hanging forgotten in his hand.

"Yea, I know." He squinted into the open breach of the rifle, "I was a bit too quick with that one, didn't compensate for the wind properly . . ."

"You want me to ride on out and set up a few more of them targets, Adam?"

"No, I think that was enough for today."

Madeline spoke up, the words spilling from her mouth before she knew it. "Please, don't stop because of us. If you would like to finish your practice session, well, that would be perfectly fine . . ."

Adam abandoned his inspection of the rifle to study her instead, his head and smile tilting slightly to one side.

"Are you sure?"

"Most definitely," she responded evenly, managing to reduce her overly eager tone before to one of a somewhat more restrained enthusiasm. When she heard Ben's rumbling voice from behind her, she knew that she would see lively sparkles in those deep brown eyes if she turned around.

"Well . . . I think we'd all quite enjoy a little demonstration, son."

Madeline was then faced with that devastating Adam Cartwright-smirk she had come to completely adore, and this time, it was topped off with a little pucker of his upper-lip.

"You got any more bullets for the Whitworth on you, Joe?" he asked over his shoulder but still looked at her.

"Yea, six in my pocket."

"All right. We'll do the last six then."

With a decision made, Adam handed Joe the rifle and then looked up at Hoss. "Go back to marker number three, by the rocks this time."

"You got it Adam!"

Hoss kicked Chub's sides and rode back in the direction he'd come from as Madeline turned around to her uncle and Ben, her open-mouthed smile conveying her excitement to them. A warm hand suddenly grasped hers and her heart fluttered when Adam said, "Come along then", and pulled her after him. Joe seemed just as eager as her and ran ahead of them to get things ready. Paul and Ben strolled after and the doctor was honestly very intrigued to see another display of Adam's marksmanship skills.

Adam let go of Madeline's hand when they reached the spot where he and Joe had been standing before, and Joe had now spread out a blanket in the grass. On it lay some paper cartridges, a cleaning rod with a scraper, a ramrod and a different rifle to the one Adam had used before. He knelt down and picked up the gun and Madeline watched in fascination as he handled the rifle with that same smooth confidence as she'd witnessed at the county fair. He first used the rod with the scraper to clean out the barrel meticulously, then placed the stock of the rifle on the ground. He reached for one of the paper cartridges, tore the paper open with his teeth and carefully poured the measured amount of powder down through the gun's bore.

"Say Adam," Paul said from beside Madeline, lifting his hand to shade his squinting eyes, "just how far away is he setting up this target of yours?"

Madeline followed his line of sight and saw the dot that was now Hoss disappearing further and further down the valley. Adam tapped the barrel of the gun to settle the powder. "Marker three is 1400 yards away from this point."

Two sets of widened eyes shot to him while Joe bobbed his head with a "yea, you heard right" grin. Adam just continued loading the gun and inserted a small felt wad down through the bore.

"Good Lord . . ." Paul mumbled as he gazed out into the distance again.

"Is that . . . a special type of firearm, perhaps?" Madeline asked hesitantly.

Adam looked up at her with a gentle smile.

"Yes, it is. It's a Whitworth rifle, hard to get hold of, and it was used mainly by Confederate sharpshooters during the war. A good friend of mine gave it to me on the day of General Lee's surrender. He is from Mississippi and fought for the South, but we've known each other since West Point. He also served as a captain and he's a great marksman. Told me he'd been saving this to give to me once the war was over."

Adam stretched out his hand and Joe passed him one of the paper-covered bullets. He unwrapped it and held it up.

"The hexagonal rifling requires mechanically fitted bullets . . . see the shape?" Madeline and Paul studied the long, slender bullet in his palm with interest. "It means that the bullet fits perfectly into the barrel which reduces friction and enables it to reach higher velocities. Makes it stable at longer ranges than other rifles." He turned the gun to show them the telescopic sight attached to the left side of the rifle. "In addition to the standard iron sights it also has a side-mounted Davidson scope. In the hands of a capable sharpshooter, it will hit any target a thousand yards out and beyond that."

He grabbed the short starter laying on the blanket and used it to drive the bullet a little way down through the bore.

Paul cleared his throat. "Adam, perhaps it's a silly question, but how come you didn't serve with the Sharpshooters?"

"Well, I did spend a few months training the 1st regiment of the Sharpshooters. I had a position there for a while, but I decided to return to the infantry. And then quite a few of my men were good enough to be sharpshooters too anyway."

Madeline soaked up everything he said, taking advantage of the opportunity to learn more about this side of him which he didn't talk much about, at least not with her.

When Adam had used the ramrod to seat the bullet firmly against the wad and powder charge, he raised his head to see if Hoss was in position. Madeline stepped over to her uncle and Ben and Adam got ready. He lay flat on the ground in a prone position and placed a percussion cap on the nipple of the rifle. As he took aim, Madeline was captivated by the sight of him. The black hat shaded his face from the sun, and there was an air of complete focus about him. His back rose and fell slowly, the black shirt fitting so snugly around him that she could see the outline of his strong shoulders and imagine the flexing muscles in his upper arms. Her eyes trailed down his spine, sliding down the curve of his lower back to that narrow waist, skipping over the black belt of his pants and—BANG!

She jumped when the shot rang out, a furious pounding shaking the top-half of her body from inside. It was quite mortifying when Adam turned to look up at her as if he knew something was wrong and she ducked her head, her face burning like she was on fire. She couldn't meet his gaze, she was convinced that he would know exactly what she had been thinking and where she'd been looking. Joe's enthusiastic voice rescued her.

"What do you think Adam?"

"That one was fine . . ."

"How can you tell, son?"

"I just know, I guess."

By the time she'd regained her composure, Adam was almost finished reloading the rife. He glanced over at her again and she gave him the little smile that she knew he was looking for. He smiled back and lay back down on his front. This time, her sight was fixed somewhere down the valley.

xXXx

"My Heavens . . . that is remarkable . . ."

"Yes . . . I've seen him do it a couple of times now and I still can't quite believe it."

Paul and Ben were sitting on the blanket, scrutinizing the targets laid out on the ground in front of them. The rings around the centers were completely intact and the bulls-eyes were filled with holes.

"Hey Pa, you mind if—"

"Joseph, swallow your food first, then address me."

Joe gulped down the last bite of one of the sandwiches Hop Sing had made.

"Sorry, sir. Do you mind if I borrow the surrey tomorrow? I said I'd take Maisy out for a ride after church."

"No, that's fine, son." Ben looked over at his youngest boy crouched down in the shade of a tree, "You can always bring her back to the house for lunch if you like."

Hoss had overheard the last bit of the conversation as he walked over to them munching on an apple, and he came to a stand, towering over Joe.

"Ain't ya worried ya might be over-courtin' that lil gal?" He laughed, and in the process, sprayed his brother with bits of the juicy fruit, "I reckon you're gonna get as bad as old Adam!"

The big man's grin disintegrated when Paul's eyes darted onto him and Joe smirked in satisfaction as he wiped the fruit off his shirt.

"Speaking of, where did your older brother disappear off to?" Ben asked, rather unwisely.

Just then, they all heard Madeline's distant giggle from somewhere and turned in the direction of the sound. A little way up the river, Adam and Madeline were holding hands and strolling along the grassy bank, heading away from the others.

"Uhm . . ." The muscles in Hoss' throat worked hard, and he played with some grass with his boot. "I reckon he wanted to show Miss Madeline the river, Pa."

"Aha! There is a perfect view of the river from right here," Paul said as he scrutinized the backs of the retreating couple.

Hoss and Joe clumsily flung themselves into what was supposed to be a relaxed conversation about nearby fishing areas—hoping to take the attention off their brother. Ben, on the other hand, was quite calm because he'd already seen the secret smile in Paul's visage which had given the doctor away.

xXXx

"Adam, I still find your skills absolutely extraordinary no matter how much you understate them. How did you ever become so good?" Madeline studied him intently as they walked through the grass, as if his expression would reveal the key to his proficiency at any moment.

"Like I told you, it takes practice. Practice and determination. Those are two vital qualities for any soldier to possess and I guess it just differs from man to man how far he can or wants to push himself."

"Well, although I'm not very knowledgeable on the subject, I am so pleased that we came out here today and got to see you practice," she said with an earnest smile. "It's quite special."

"Yes, that reminds me . . ." He paused, glancing over at her. "I was told that the reason for your little visit today wasn't to see me."

His voice was perfectly casual but there was an edge of challenge clinging to the last word.

"Yes, that is true," she replied solemnly. "Actually, Adam . . . I must tell you. I came to see Hop Sing."

"Hmm."

He went quiet and thoughtful while Madeline fought down the laugh that was tickling her throat, determined to wait and see what else he would say.

"You know . . . I've never really considered myself the jealous type."

She faced him then, her lashes doing a slow sweep down across her huge, green pools.

"Oh, but Adam, if you were, I would be more than happy to make you an apron too."

He let out one of those rich chuckles of his, the ones she considered far too infrequent, but when they did appear, they were like little gifts in her day. He tugged at her hand, pulling her closer to him and she went willingly until a snorting noise from ahead made her look up.

"Hello you! I was beginning to think that you were ignoring me."

She released Adam's hand and walked up to Sport who instantly dropped his muzzle into her outstretched palm.

"I saved you two apples, but they are in the surrey, so you'll have to wait a little."

She stroked the horse's neck and Sport let out a rush of air through his nostrils, almost like he was communicating his displeasure over having to wait for his treats. But as she continued caressing his neck, the wise, brown eyes became half closed as the chestnut enjoyed the attention.

"You spoil him."

Madeline looked back at a cross-armed Adam and she kept up the soothing stroking.

"Funny you say that. He thinks I spoil you."

Adam didn't respond to that. Instead, he let his eyes glide from her face down her body, all the way down to her ankles hidden underneath the layers of skirt where he paused before starting back up again. Goosebumps, which had no right to appear anywhere on a day as hot as this, were left behind in a trail up her front where his gaze seemed to have burned through her clothes to her skin. He looked at her face again.

"Come here."

She stood completely still for a few seconds just staring back at him. A part of her wanted to turn around and run all the way back through the valley from where she'd come. Away from him and the look he regarded her with now. But running away from Adam Cartwright, if that had ever really been an option for her, was no longer a possibility. There was such a unique connection between them, vastly overpowering any defense she could muster up, and in spite of her private reservations and confused emotions, it felt all kinds of wrong to move anywhere but closer to him. Her hand dropped from the horse's muzzle and she complied with Adam's demand. She took five steps back towards him but stopped just outside of his reach. Well, she misjudged that because when he stretched out his arms, he easily grasped hers and gently pulled her all the way back to him. She relaxed when she noticed a faint smile teasing at his lips.

"Sport . . . and Hop Sing"—he settled his hands on her hips—"have both received plenty of your attention today. Don't you think it's my turn?"

"Oh my, you are jealous," she said and there was a note of triumph in her smooth voice. She was amazed when something seemed to ignite in his eyes, sending sparks of gold flying around the countless shades of brown.

"You want to know how I got that good with a rifle?" he suddenly asked.

"Yes . . ."

"It's all about control. A soldier is useless without it. The arts of fencing and shooting can't be mastered without it. Control is everything, it's what keeps you alive on the battlefield, keeps you sane in the chaos. I used to drill my men relentlessly with the importance of that little word." He broke off and her attention fell on his mouth where she glimpsed the tip of his tongue do a quick sweep along his lower lip.

"But with you . . . when I am in your presence . . . that word is entirely foreign to me. You make me feel completely off balance, Madeline."

His honest words went straight to her heart and her lips curved as she placed her hands on his arms.

"I didn't think anything could throw you off balance, Adam."

"Me neither."

He leaned down to capture her mouth with his, and she wondered how it was possible that every kiss they shared seemed just as overwhelming as the first. They were both caught up in enjoying each other's closeness when a sudden rush of hot air hit the sides of their faces. The interruption made them pull apart and Madeline laughed when Adam groaned up towards the sky.

"Come on, Sport! Can't you see that we're busy?"

Madeline reached out to rub the big chestnut's cheek and Sport swung his tail, looking quite unapologetic. She leaned against Adam, feeling a little pleased that he hadn't relinquished his hold on her and his hands moved to her back.

"We should probably get back to the others," she said. "I think that is what he is trying to say."

"Yea, I guess we should."

She felt his chest rise and fall and her eyes involuntarily landed on the dark curls revealed by the open top of his shirt. Her thoughts were starting to wander again when his voice drifted down to her ear.

"I'll be busy tomorrow, Hoss and I are going out on a little hunting trip. Are you working on Monday?"

"Yes, but I should be finished at four o'clock. You could always come by later, in the evening?"

"Mmm, or I could come by and have a piece of your coffee cake and then walk with you home?"

Madeline drew back to look up at him with a playful smile.

"Sally constantly says that you have become her number one customer since I started working there."

"I have no problem with that."

With great effort, he peeled his hands away from her when she suddenly took hold of his right wrist. Adam's eyebrows lifted and rounded in almost perfect half-circles as he watched what she was doing.

"Boy . . . what has Hop Sing been saying about me?"

She finished unrolling his sleeve, revealing that the button at the cuff was indeed missing and there was a rip running up the fabric.

"Apparently, nothing that isn't true." She rolled the sleeve back up, tracing up his powerful forearm. "I am taking a few of yours and your brothers' clothes back home with me later, to mend them. This one should definitely be among them."

As she faced him with lively eyes, she saw a strange, soft expression settle on his face.

"They're only work clothes, Madeline. It'll happen again."

"Then they will be mended again."

"It hardly seems worth the effort." He put his hand on her back and guided her back along the riverbank from where they'd come. "They've been torn and ripped so many times, they're probably not even worth repairing. Sometimes . . . things just get worn out. And they're never the same anymore."

"I think it's worth the effort, Adam . . ."

She looked over at him and it was at times like these that she wished she could tell what he was thinking. But he was lost in his own little world, his mind working through something and his blank face revealed nothing. Eventually, he did smile a little at her.

"All right. I guess you're the knowledgeable one on that subject."

She walked closely next to him as they continued through the high grass. He was still distracted, she sensed it and after spending more time with him over the last couple of weeks, she'd learned that it took him a little while to shake that mood off again. She waited patiently as they strolled along in silence but she couldn't keep the worry from growing inside her.

While she knew how to mend his shirts, she wished that she had some idea of how to mend his heart.