Author's Notes

Hello everyone! So, firstly and most importantly, to those of you who continue to support me in your comments—thank you so much. Your reassurance that you are enjoying the story and that you like Adam with Madeline means a lot to me. It really keeps me going and I love reading your wonderful reviews.

As you all know, I am new at this thing and it's unnerving to put one's writing out there. I realize that I can't please everyone. In the end, I can only do my best as I write this story and write it as it feels right to me.

I hope you enjoy this next chapter and that it isn't too "heavy" to get through. It's the one I have been most nervous about posting so far. My aim has always been to write with a certain realistic aspect in terms of the historical background but also in relation to the characters, their private struggles, their reactions, flaws and strengths. This story is a drama/romance and the drama truly sets in now.

Warning here—there is mention of past physical abuse in this chapter.

Okay, here we go. Thank you all.

Chapter 18

The following day, Adam and Madeline were spending the afternoon at their place by Silver Creek. The creek, bathed in brilliant sunlight, looked like one long, fluid path of sparkles and in the places where the trees didn't offer shade, those powerful rays seemed to paint the world more vivid, showing off new, vibrant colors. The very air was infused with everything summer; the sweet fragrance of flowers breaking through the scent of luscious grass and sounds of birdsong accompanied by the steady buzz of bees drifted down along the creek-bank. It was exactly as an August summer's day should be.

The couple lay on a blanket in the grass under the big oak tree—Adam on his back with one arm bent under his head while Madeline's cheek rested on his other shoulder as he stroked her arm in a lulling motion. They were both lost in their own private thoughts and neither of them had spoken for a while.

Madeline was still reliving the wonderful time they'd had the evening before at the theater. It had been the first time they'd gone out to a public event of that nature together and the people in town had generally been very friendly towards them. There was still some gossiping going on among certain ladies, but Madeline wasn't really too bothered by it. She'd enjoyed herself far too much. When she was with Adam, it was like those other things just didn't matter as much to her anymore. The gossip, the whispering—none of it was as important as being with him and he made her feel safer and more contended than she ever had in all her life. She was also relieved that he seemed to be doing very well lately. They'd spent practically every day together this week and he looked more rested, his mood stayed cheerful and his smiles came just a little bit quicker and easier. She loved being close with him like they were now—just the two of them lying under their tree—and she realized then, that the most important thing in her life was now him. When she wasn't physically with him, she was constantly thinking about him, and when they were together, this odd, new feeling seemed to stretch throughout her entire body. It was overwhelming, yet it made her feel whole. It had no boundaries and it couldn't be defined—the feeling was simply absolute. And she could no longer imagine being without him in her life.

As he lay there on the blanket, Adam had only one thing on his mind and that was how he felt about the woman lying against him. With all the time they had been spending together lately, it was getting harder and harder to leave her when their visits were over. If he had the choice, he would keep her with him at all times. Since he'd told her about his nightmares, he'd been sleeping better and every day was a good day at the moment. She was the one for him, there was no question about it. While he was far from healed inside, she had already made him feel more complete than he'd thought he could ever be again after the war ended. There were so many things he wanted to say to her. He wanted her to know how he felt. But every time he tried to approach that particular conversation with her, he somehow never got very far with it. And he couldn't shake the feeling that things just weren't as simple as I love you's and a happy life together with Madeline. He was pretty sure that what he saw in her eyes was love for him. But she was holding back, and he couldn't keep pretending that she wasn't. So far, he'd been too much of a coward to confront her about it because of the fear that he would disrupt what they had now. And that he would lose her. Like he tended to lose people he cared about.

He was contemplating all of that and studying the maze of leaves and branches above them when he felt her sigh out a breath that tickled his chest at the top of his shirt.

"I wish we could stay like this forever."

His hand stilled on her arm, and he knew that this was the best opening he would ever get. If only he could work up the courage . . .

"We could, you know . . ." He let the words draw out. "Well, maybe not literally, but we could stay together forever."

Her relaxed demeanor immediately changed, and he wished he could've seen her face then. She shifted and slowly sat up.

". . . Do you want that?"

"Madeline, you must know that I want that." He quickly rose to sit beside her. "More than anything."

He watched her intently, growing more disheartened by the second at her delayed reply.

"Adam . . . I'm afraid I need to—"

"Wait, just hear me out," he said, hating that his tone was imploring because it wasn't like him, but he needed to stall the rejection he sensed was coming. "You're the most amazing, most remarkable woman I've ever known. I can't even begin to explain how much you mean to me. How happy you make me."

"Please, Adam," she said, shaking her head, "there's something I have to—"

"I love you, Madeline."

Her eyes shot to his. " . . . You do?"

"Yes. I really do. And I'll do whatever it takes to show you how much."

He moved towards her and she was so stunned by his unexpected declaration that she continued to stare at him when he first pressed his mouth against her unmoving lips. After a couple of seconds, her focus drifted from the conversation to the kiss and she closed her eyes and unconsciously leaned into him, seeking more of his warmth and closeness. When his tongue gently pried her lips apart, it was like a sudden urgency overcame him and he pushed her backwards, his hands settling on her back. She clung to his shoulders while he carefully lowered her onto the blanket, his touch and dizzying taste making the world spin around her. Those hidden emotions were rapidly awakening within her and she clutched his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping her from being swept away in it all. As he continued probing her mouth with his tongue, she started to become more aware of the thrilling way her body was responding to him and a tiny sound that she didn't recognize, escaped her throat when his fingers brushed through her hair. The little noise clearly spurred him on and he lifted her slightly with the hand still under her back, bringing her just a bit nearer to him as he deepened the heated kiss.

But then something changed.

Maybe it was the new kissing position with him hovering over her like that or it could have been the intensifying passion she sensed in the way his lips moved harder against hers. But suddenly she went from feeling feverish and tingly to increasingly uncomfortable. Her breathing quickened as her chest clenched hard and she felt trapped—as though she was being slowly squashed under an immeasurable weight. Distressing memories began flashing through her mind and she was abruptly taken back with them. All of a sudden, it wasn't Adam above her, but someone else, and the image of his sneering face looming over her, made every muscle in her body stiffen as she waited for the inevitable pain to strike her flesh.

Adam was so caught up in his own burning desire for her that he was less attentive than usual of her reaction and he didn't notice her discomfort. All he could think of was how much he loved this woman, how he wanted and needed her—more than words could say. He'd been waiting for such a long time to tell her about his feelings and there was just no containing them anymore. The first push against his front didn't register with him at all, but the second one, enforced by a rush of her escalating panic, shoved him a good few inches back.

"Please stop!" she gasped. "Please . . ."

He instantly relinquished his hold on her and she sat up, turning away from him, her hand covering her mouth as she fought with the sickening images that had seized her awareness. Adam just sat there beside her, out of breath and utterly dumbfounded by the sudden situation. A look of complete shock swept across his face as he took in her shaking shoulders and bowed head, realizing that he was responsible for it all.

"Madeline, I'm . . . I'm sorry, I . . ."

His stammering led to nowhere and he didn't dare reach out to her. He could only watch her forlornly and he swallowed down the bile rising in his throat as an all-consuming sense of shame washed over him.

What had he done? How could he have let this happen?

He'd sworn to himself that he would be careful with her, he'd known somehow that she needed that from him. And now he'd pushed her too far. Thoughts were whirling around his pounding head as her back rose and fell in jerky movements. It had seemed like she was enjoying the kiss. He'd felt her respond to him in the most exquisite ways and yet . . . now he was faced with the reality of what his actions had caused. Seeing her distraught state made him feel a whole new kind of low.

Gradually, she appeared to calm down and she drew in, then blew out a deep breath. He knew that he needed to apologize properly to her, but he simply had no idea where to start—too afraid that he'd somehow make things even worse. So ashamed over his behavior, he stayed silent, his chest hammering as he willed her to say something—anything that would break this suffocating silence.

"Adam . . . please take me back to the ranch."

Her voice was shaky but resolute and every word stabbed at his heart. He only barely managed to restrain the desperate plea that wanted out when he opened his mouth. Now wasn't the time and he couldn't risk upsetting her further with his recklessness despite the crushing fear that was starting to consume him from the inside.

"I'll go and get the horses ready," he said quietly instead. As he got up and walked over to Sport and the grey mare, his legs felt numb. At that moment, he would have rather been trapped in one hundred of his nightmares because the pain of knowing that he'd hurt her so was beyond heartbreaking.

How could he have gotten things so wrong?

Sport let out a loud snort and bumped his shoulder, sensing his master's dejection but Adam didn't notice it. Risking a glance back, he saw that Madeline had stood up, the straw bonnet back atop her head as she folded the blanket. He headed over to her, pulling the horses along behind him and it was apparent that she was doing all she could to avoid looking at him. There was no doubt that the ride home would be a miserable one.

xXXx

Back at the house, Ben and Paul were sitting on the porch and enjoying some of Hop Sing's cool lemonade. Paul had gone with Madeline out to the Ponderosa to check on old Harry's leg and to spend a few hours of relaxation at the ranch. This time, the doctor had been satisfied with how the foreman's leg was healing, and Harry had in turn been rewarded with the prospect of being on his feet for half an hour each day starting tomorrow.

Ben had gone over some accounts on the porch while Paul saw to his patient and afterwards, the two friends had settled back in the comfortable chairs under the shade of the porch roof. They'd been chatting in casual companionship for about an hour and Paul was telling Ben about the medical conference he was to attend in San Francisco in just a few days.

"Well Paul, I'm sure you'll get a lot out of this trip. It certainly sounds interesting and with all the doctors and physicians planning to partake in this thing, it'll hopefully be a success."

Paul hummed in agreement and set down his glass.

"I really believe that this is the most effective way of expanding our medical knowledge—by meeting up with colleagues in the same field and discussing new medical research and methods in person. With the limited number of doctors out here on the frontier, and with even fewer of us formally educated, it's vital that we keep up with the progress and the new discoveries that are being made in our line of work. The West needs more doctors, Ben, more medicine and more knowledge or we'll just fall behind."

"Yes, I agree. It's the hope of us all that more trained doctors will come to settle here," Ben said and thoughtfully thumbed the edge of his glass, "but the country out here is rough, our state is young and the ongoing disputes with the Indians certainly aren't helping to make this an attractive place to live."

"You're right about that. But I hear rumors that the army is sending troops out here again to man the forts, as they did before the war."

Paul noted the three deep furrows that appeared on his friend's forehead, but before he could ask what was wrong, the sound of horses approaching drew his attention to the yard.

"They're back rather early, aren't they?" the doctor mumbled and pushed himself forward in his chair.

Within a few seconds of watching the couple, it became obvious to both men that something was wrong. Adam dismounted by the hitching rail and went to help Madeline down from the grey mare, but as soon as she touched the ground, he let go of her and she faced away from him. She walked over to the surrey parked close to the barn while removing her riding gloves, keeping her head down. Adam just stood rooted to the spot beside his horse, watching her anxiously.

Paul's eyebrows bounced up and when he glanced sideways at Ben, he saw his own confusion mirrored in his friend's expression. The couple had seemed so happy when they'd ridden out an hour ago. Madeline's face was obscured by the straw bonnet and it was impossible for Paul to gauge her mood from that distance, so he got up from his chair at the same time as Ben and they stepped down off the porch. As the doctor headed for the surrey, he threw a look over at Adam who was fidgeting with Sport's reins. Paul's eyes quickly went from questioning to calculating and his lips drew inward in disapproval when the younger man kept his gaze stuck to the ground. Just as Paul got to his niece, she peered up at him with pools of liquid deep green.

"Uncle Paul, could we please . . . I must go home."

Without hesitation, he laid a comforting hand on her arm.

"I'll just go and get my bag. Stay here."

Spinning around on his heels, he walked back towards the house, making a slight detour over to the two Cartwrights standing by the horses. Ben was scrutinizing his oldest son as if he'd asked a question and was waiting for an answer that clearly wasn't forthcoming.

"Well, it looks like we are leaving," Paul said and pierced Adam with a glare. Although the younger man's eyes were still down-turned, there was no doubt that he received the doctor's message of discontent loud and clear. Paul ignored the way Adam's shoulders slumped and addressed Ben.

"I'll go and get my bag. We'll have to continue where we left off some other time, Ben."

"Of course, I'll go with you, Paul."

Ben eyed Adam pointedly one last time, unmistakably urging him to take this last chance to do something to resolve the unhappy situation. The two older men walked back to the house, muttering between themselves in mutual perplexity. A couple of minutes later, they exited the front door again and saw that Adam was now standing by the surrey, talking to Madeline's back. He was clearly keeping a certain distance to her, but she didn't seem to even be listening to him. Actually, she seemed to be in a world of her own. Ben sighed heavily, and the worst of Paul's anger abated at the sorry appearance of the dark Cartwright.

When the two men crossed the yard, Madeline climbed into the surrey without help and sat there looking down at her hands. Paul placed his bag under the seat and jumped up next to his niece. It was an excruciatingly awkward moment as Paul coughed, Ben shuffled his feet, Adam stared beseechingly at Madeline and she stayed still, looking as if she'd drawn completely into herself.

Ben eventually spoke up, keeping his tone as normal as possible.

"Well, have a safe ride back. I'll see you in town sometime before you leave, Paul."

"Thank you, Ben. Say hello to Hoss and Joe from us."

The doctor flicked the reins, setting the horses in motion and the surrey pulled out of the yard.

The two Cartwrights were left standing there as the dust slowly drifted back down to the ground. Ben placed a hand on his boy's back.

"What on earth happened, son?"

Adam shook his head hopelessly.

"I messed it all up, Pa. I messed everything up."

xXXx

The surrey had rambled down the trail for a full five minutes when Paul pulled on the reins and made the horses stop. He laid the reins down by his feet and moved to sit sideways on the seat, so he could see his niece properly. She was gazing out into the distance with vacant eyes and he began to get truly worried about her.

"Little Belle, are you all right?"

Madeline showed no indication whatsoever that she'd heard him, and Paul moved a little closer.

"Did you and Adam have a quarrel?"

"Uncle Paul—" Her voice faltered as a lone tear escaped the brim of her eye and trickled down her cheek. "Please, I can't . . . "

The doctor's hand twitched and he brought it up to rub across his mouth.

"Look Madeline, you have to tell me what's going on. I have a good mind to turn this surrey around and go back and give that young man the talking to that I'm now beginning to think he very much deserves."

"No, uncle, please don't." Her eyelids fluttered rapidly but a few more tears still fell. "It wasn't Adam's fault. I am so ashamed . . ."

Her chin dropped down and Paul shook himself of his paralyzing bewilderment, grasping one of her hands.

"What in the world are you ashamed of? Won't you please tell me what has happened?"

She reached up to wipe her eyes and he quickly took out his handkerchief from his vest pocket and gave it to her. He waited patiently while she dried her face. With a last sniffle, she lowered the cloth to her lap and peeked over at him.

"We went to Silver Creek as we usually do, and we were . . . he . . . kissed me."

Her statement made some of the tension drain out of the doctor, but it also brought about a struggle between his compressed brows and the slow smile that wanted to stretch his lips.

"My Belle, as much as I would like it to be so, I am not naive enough to think that he hasn't kissed you before today."

"No, you're right uncle," she said, her tone wobbly. "But today wasn't like the other times. He said that he loved me."

Paul's jaw lifted, his mouth forming a silent "Oh".

"I was trying to tell him about . . . everything. But then he said that he loved me and . . . he kissed me."

She bit down on her protruding lower lip, containing what was so close to spilling out anew.

"I-I don't know what happened but as he was kissing me, thoughts about my . . . about the past started to come into my mind. Suddenly, all I could think of was—" She stopped speaking as Paul covered her hands with his and squeezed them in understanding. "It seemed so real," she continued in a whisper. "It wasn't Adam there with me but I was back in Georgia with him."

Paul had to grind his teeth together to keep his temper in check. He would never have thought that he could hold such pure hatred for someone he hadn't even met, but that was exactly what he felt for the man who'd mistreated his niece.

"I was so sure that he would . . . hurt me and I panicked and I . . . I pushed him away," she said, her hands becoming limp. "I pushed Adam away. But it was like I didn't even know which one of them it was at the time."

She fell quiet and Paul knew by her frown that she was trying to make sense of her own words now that they'd been let out. Then her eyebrows drooped and when she looked at him, he was reminded of that little, lost girl he'd left behind in Georgia all those years ago.

"Then afterwards, I felt so ashamed of myself. Adam had told me that he loved me and I have been deceiving him all this time. Uncle Paul, I should have told him the truth before, just like you said."

Her despair ripped straight into the doctor and he leaned forward, wrapping her up in an embrace.

"I'm sorry, dear. Please don't be so harsh on yourself, there is no use in it now. You weren't ready."

They stayed like that for a long minute, but she didn't cry anymore—just leaned against him like she had no intention of ever moving. After a while, he placed his hands on her shoulders and it was with some reluctance that she allowed herself to be pulled back.

"Now, will you listen to me for a moment? This little situation may just be resolved yet."

Seemingly too tired to even reply at that point, she only gave a subdued nod.

"All right now, do you love Adam?"

Still feeling overwhelmed and emotional, she was unprepared for that question.

"I . . ."

"Okay, how about this then, when you were with him—just before you started to remember those dreadful things—did you feel happy with him?"

Her lashes lowered and the slow blush that came over her cheeks told him more than words ever could.

"Ah." The doctor blinked. "Say no more . . ."

A few seconds passed which he spent pretending to scan the open range before them.

"Well, ah . . . uh . . . well, do you want to be with the lad or not?" he asked a little brusquely.

"Yes . . . I do," she said softly.

"Very well. Then you must go and tell him that. Along with everything else."

As he stretched down to pick up the reins with an old man's grunt, she abruptly gripped his arm.

"Now?!" she squeaked, "what won't he think of me? He must be so upset with me, I behaved terribly."

"Trust me Madeline, I doubt that anything you say or do now will make him feel worse than he does at this instant."

Her appearance turned even more troubled and Paul expelled a gush of air as he patted her knee.

"Look, why do you think I stopped the surrey to have this talk with you here, five minutes from the ranch instead of going straight home? Because in a few hours, you would have been so broken up about this thing, you would've been gazing out the window thinking about him and we would eventually have made a late evening trip out to the Ponderosa because you'd realized that you just had to talk with him. Now, this surrey seat isn't the most comfortable thing for these bouncy roads, so spare us both the hardship of those extra hours of travel, won't you?"

He bent down to see her face hidden by the bonnet and it seemed like she was wavering between releasing more tears or a careful smile. To his relief, the smile won out and she twisted towards him, moving in for another hug as her chin came to rest on his shoulder.

"Oh, Uncle, how do you put up with me?"

"I am a patient man, Madeline. A patient and a practical one." He clapped her back once. "Let's go."

The mildly confused horses followed the doctor's orders, doing a half circle on the road and soon the surrey was well on its way back to the ranch.

xXXx

Adam had just come down the stairs to the sitting room with his saddlebags hooked over his shoulder when he heard a sound from outside. Hardly daring to believe it, he unwittingly dropped the bags onto the settee and walked over to look out of the open front door. His pulse spiked at the sight of the surrey coming into the yard and he quickly went outside. Moving past his father who'd stood up from the chair on the porch, Adam loped across the yard, his pace slowing considerably when it struck him that the only logical reason for their return was that Paul had come back to give a piece of his most-likely furious mind. When he got to the carriage, Adam steeled himself for whatever the doctor had in store for him, but to his surprise it was Madeline who spoke.

"Adam . . . could I talk to you?"

His mouth opened and closed, then opened again. "Yes, of course."

By pure reflex, he reached out to help her down from the surrey, quickly realizing that she probably wouldn't want his assistance. But just as he was about to draw back, she surprised him again by taking his proffered hand. Once down on the ground, her eyes darted up to him, then sideways to his father who'd joined them.

"Uh, we can go around the back, if you like?"

He hated feeling so insecure with her and what was worse—he hated the fact that he didn't even know if she would want to be alone with him. Or if Paul would allow it for that matter.

"Yes, all right," she said.

Stepping to the side, he let her go first and followed her, aiming a hesitant look over his shoulder, back at the doctor. Seeing calm reassurance rather than condemnation on Paul's face left Adam more bewildered than comforted and he continued to keep a few inches distance to Madeline as they headed towards the house.

"Well, Paul . . ." Ben rested an arm on the surrey while watching the couple disappear. "I don't know how you did it, but you were just in the nick of time. He was about to head out, you know."

"Yes, I suspected as much. Good thing she came to her senses when she did and decided to talk things out."

Ben looked up and took in the doctor's completely impassive expression. Tiny crinkles appeared by the Cartwright's dark eyes.

"Hmm. If only my boy knew just how much of a friend he has in you . . ."

"Now Ben, let's not lay more into this." Paul waved a hand in dismissal. "She would've been a nightmare for me to live with until he came back and they could settle this thing. I was simply being practical," he asserted.

"Mmmh," Ben grunted, smiling.

"Enough of that," Paul grumbled as he climbed down from the surrey. "My work here is not yet done. Do you have something stronger perhaps than Hop Sing's lemonade? I could sure use it, and you will need it too with what I am about to tell you, old friend."

xXXx

Adam had his hands folded behind his back as he walked alongside Madeline through the back garden. They passed the bed of red roses and he chanced a glance at her as she undid the pink ribbon under her chin, removing the straw bonnet. She was so pale.

"Would you like to sit?"

He gestured to the wooden bench just a few feet ahead of them. She nodded and went over to sit down while he trailed behind her but remained standing. The back garden was the most secluded part of the Ponderosa ranch—so quiet and removed from the sounds of horses, cattle and cowhands at work. Adam's attention fell on the pine tree next to the bench, and he noticed the old carving of Joe's name in the bark. They'd carved it together on Joe's fifth birthday. He'd forgotten it was there.

When Adam finally got himself to face Madeline again, she was holding the bonnet in her lap, brown curls dangling down past her cheeks. She seemed nervous rather than upset with him, and he was stupefied by it.

"I'm glad you came back . . ." he ventured.

"Adam, there is something I have to tell you."

The serious look she gave him made him slowly sink down onto the wooden bench beside her.

"All right . . ."

"It's something about me. Something I should have told you long before now, but . . . I just couldn't. And I am deeply sorry for it."

His confusion was quelled by a sense of misgiving forming in his chest as he waited for her to continue.

"I haven't shared much about my life in Georgia. Except for my childhood and general events during the war," she said cautiously. "But nothing about why I left to come here."

"I got the impression that you didn't want to talk about it."

"I didn't, but now I must."

This was it. He'd known from that first time she came to the Ponderosa when Maisy McCoy questioned her about her past that she was hiding something. And he'd noticed it ever since, whenever she would divert a conversation or avoid certain topics. It had been such a long wait for this moment, and now he suddenly felt completely unprepared.

She breathed in, her shoulders lifting high.

"When I was living in Georgia . . . I was married."

Adam's gaze plummeted to the grassy ground as a jolt ran through him. Not because he was very surprised by her revelation, but because he hadn't expected it to cause him so much pain. The knowledge that he would never be her first or only love stung deep in his heart.

"You knew?" she asked, the disbelief evident in her tone.

"The thought crossed my mind." He plastered on a weak smile for her before raising his head. "It somehow didn't seem likely that a woman like you would still be . . . well, I mean, I imagine you must have had plenty of suitors."

"There were a few, I suppose." She paused and fingered the lavender fabric of her skirt. "But in the end, my marriage was an arrangement between my parents and husband, not an alliance of love."

His attempted smile died away, and he sat up straighter, watching her carefully. She suddenly stood up, laying her bonnet down on the bench and stepping past him, over to the pine tree close by.

"Ray Bradshaw was part owner of an iron works in Augusta, a wealthy and very successful man. My parents, my father especially, thought him the perfect match for me. He was older, 'mature' as Father pointed out and respected among the community. So, after a few months of him courting me, I agreed to marry him." She turned back around to face Adam, her delicate features lined with unmitigated anguish. "It was a terrible mistake . . ."

Adam wasn't even aware that he abruptly stood up himself. Within a split second, that sense of misgiving had dropped from his chest down to his stomach and become fluttering alarm, weaving in and out around sudden knots.

"While he was courting me," she went on, "he was always courteous and agreeable, but as soon as we were married, he changed." Her countenance became haunted by her inner anxiety. "As it turned out, he was neither a kind nor a good man, but one with a violent temper . . . and horrible fits of rage."

Staring at her, Adam felt his pulse throbbing in his temples.

"He . . . hurt you?"

"Yes . . ." she whispered past quivering lips. "I was twenty-five and from that very first night, he beat me. And after that, whenever the urge overtook him."

"Madeline, was he—" Adam swallowed thickly, "did he . . ."

Her fingers dug into her skirt, wringing the fabric around.

"I knew what he expected of me at night, but I was so afraid of him. My fear and . . . unwillingness only seemed to"—her eyes closed—"excite him."

She spun away, ringlets of hair flinging around her neck and it was completely beyond Adam's power to speak, even if he'd known what to say. All of a sudden, the garden had gone from being secluded to stifling and it seemed utterly absurd that he was standing in such tranquil surroundings with this growing turmoil inside him. Her voice eventually broke through the chaos within him.

"When the war began, the business Ray shared started to produce military supplies such as weapons and ammunition. He had some military background and spent time recruiting and preparing young men before they were sent to the Confederate army. After Gettysburg, when the war turned in favor of the North, he began to drink heavily. His violent behavior became worse than ever before."

"What about divorce?" Adam got out and took a step towards her, his mind reeling with all this information. She looked at him, her face pinched in deep regret.

"You know that divorce laws in the South are much more stringent than other parts of the country, especially compared to the West. There had been a few instances of women who tried to obtain divorce where we lived, but the judge refused to grant it in every case." A shadow of sorrow swept across her. "My parents both died within two months after my wedding, and Ray didn't allow for me to have any close friends, so I had no one to support me. Besides, I doubt that my parents would have because of the scandal. It would've been going against everything I had been brought up to be."

Adam's concern for her increased when the little color that was left along her cheek bones vanished, leaving her whiter than he would have thought possible.

"After a particularly bad episode, I did secretly arrange a meeting with a lawyer to receive some legal advice on the matter. But as I already knew, it would be practically impossible for me to obtain a divorce on the grounds of domestic violence. I was told that it is a husband's right to correct and even beat his wife." She gazed past Adam, to some spot over his shoulder and her voice came out as nothing more than a breath. "When I arrived home, Ray was waiting for me. I don't know how he knew where I had been, but he was drunk and . . . furious."

Her eyelids closed tightly as if she were in desperate prayer and Adam fought to control the tension in his body, almost at the point of shaking.

"He locked me in the bedroom that whole night, beating me, hurting me. When he finally stopped, I looked up and . . . he was s-standing over me and he . . ."

Her twitching lips still moved but no more words came out and Adam couldn't help it, he grasped both her arms, balancing that fine line between firm and forceful.

"What Madeline? What did he do?!"

His grip had an anchoring effect on her and as her lashes lifted, her eyes settled on his.

"He held a knife to my face and smiled. And he said that my life belonged to him forever."

The strength seeped out of Adam's hands and they fell from her arms. This time, it was him who turned away as everything swam around him. He couldn't believe that these things had happened to her. That this . . . animal had done this to her. Biting the inside of his cheek in a supreme effort to regain some composure, he hardly noticed the metallic-tasting wetness when it hit his tongue.

"A couple of weeks after that, I was approached by a man who worked for the Pinkerton Detective Agency," Madeline said quietly from behind him. "He explained that my uncle was looking for me and gave me a forwarding address, so that I could contact him. We wrote a few letters back and forth and once I knew that I had a place here with Uncle Paul, I planned to disappear from my life in Augusta. I managed to obtain the money for the trip without Ray knowing and I left almost all my possessions behind. I travelled to Utah to meet Uncle Paul and he then brought me here."

Adam didn't move an inch as he stood with his back to her. He didn't want to make things worse for her and he was familiar enough with his own temper to know that he needed to delay speaking for as long as he could.

" . . . Adam?"

"Why—" he cut himself off and forced gentleness into his voice. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I was afraid," she replied, so faint he could barely hear her. "At first, I was afraid of anyone finding out and of him finding me. And then when I got to know you, I was worried about how you might react. Whether you'd . . . what you would think of me . . ."

Those last words made him wheel around to her with narrowed lips, the frail control he'd managed to gather quickly slipping.

"Madeline, he beat you, he"—Adam's chest heaved as his fists clenched—"he violated you! Did you think that I would somehow think less of you or even blame you for any of it?!"

"I don't know what I thought, it was a mistake!" she exclaimed, tiny muscles in her chin trembling. He ran a hand roughly through his hair and paced around her, over to the pine tree. Seeing that look on her face was just too much.

"Adam, please . . ."

She appeared just below his sight where it was fixed on the carving in the bark. "I am so sorry that I kept it from you. I should have listened to Uncle Paul and told you long before." Her voice cracked, and he felt a careful touch on his arm. "Please, don't be angry with me . . . I'm sorry about what happened earlier too, I never meant to hurt you. I can't bear it if . . . if you . . ."

His eyes flickered down to her and the haze of fury that was clouding his senses lifted. Tears clung to her lashes like tiny jewels and above them were horizontal creases of pure anguish.

"I am so sorry," she choked out.

He instinctively put his arms around her and she fell against him in the same instant, burying her face in his shirt.

"It's all right, I'm not angry with you," he murmured against her hair, rubbing her trembling back. "Easy honey, I'm just . . . it's not your fault."

Holding her tightly, he knew that for now he had to bury the blazing rage that this unknown man had ignited in him. She needed his reassurance and he couldn't let her think that she had done anything wrong. As he thought back on what had happened at Silver Creek, he had a new understanding of it all—of her unexpected reaction and why she'd pushed him away. With everything she'd just told him, he couldn't blame her. If only he'd known, he would have been more careful, more attentive of her needs.

Her shaking eventually stopped, and she became quiet. She gingerly drew back from him, leaving a wet patch on his shirt-front and he lifted one hand from her waist to wipe a stray, pearl-shaped tear from her cheek.

"I understand, Madeline. I'm not angry. Just relieved that you told me now."

She scanned his face and he eyed her calmly, his hands resting on her hips. Finally, she seemed to relax a little, but her cheeks were still red and wet.

"Is Paul the only one who knows?" he asked quietly.

"Yes . . . and your father by now probably. Uncle Paul was going to tell him while I talked with you."

Adam nodded and got ready to ask her the most pressing question on his mind.

"Madeline, I need to know . . . are you sure that you covered your tracks? That he can't find you?"

"I am as sure as I can be," she said hesitantly. "After my father and Uncle Paul cut their contact, Father never spoke of him again and I was told not to discuss him. My parents pretended he didn't exist and when I met Ray there was never a reason to mention that I had an uncle." She paused and blinked a couple of times as if her eyelids were suddenly too heavy. "I burned all uncle Paul's letters as soon as I'd read them to keep Ray from finding out and I told no one about my leaving. I got the name Delaney from a woman I travelled with on the train."

When she swayed slightly in his arms, Adam tightened his hold around her waist. She looked completely exhausted now but he sensed that she had more to tell and he needed to get all the information out of her that he could.

"The other thing is . . . Georgia was in chaos when I left. Ray's factory had been destroyed by union soldiers and he was mad with anger towards them. He continued to encourage others to do all they could to disrupt the soldiers' work and unfortunately some men listened to him. Part of me believes that he may have done something . . . extreme." She sighed. "He might be imprisoned . . . or even dead."

Although he wouldn't say it out loud to her, Adam fiercely hoped that the latter was the case. He pushed down the animosity rising again before it got the better of him and brought a hand to her chin, tipping her face up to him.

"I just want you to be careful. I need you to be safe."

For the first time in what seemed close to forever, her lips curled at the ends and some of that natural light came back to her puffy eyes.

"I am, Adam. I will be fine."

He moved his hand up, stroking his thumb across her still damp cheek and his throat was drying up all over again.

"Madeline, about earlier, about what I said. I want you to know that nothing has changed. I meant every word." He halted and her pupils dilated. "I want to be with you. I want to share my life with you more than I've ever wanted anything in the world."

"Adam.."

"I realize that you might not be ready for that, and now I understand why—"

"I love you too . . ."

"—but I'll wait for you, as long as it takes, whatever it takes—" His rambling came to an abrupt stop. "Uh, what, you said what?"

"I love you too."

It took him a second to comprehend the words but when he did, it was impossible to prevent the corners of his mouth from lifting high up onto his cheeks. He must have produced a ridiculous grin because she released a tiny giggle, followed by a sniffle. Gently leaning his brow against hers, his hand automatically resumed caressing the side of her face.

"You do?"

"Yes." Her sincere gaze met his. "I really do."

That was all he needed for now. Knowing that she felt the same and being able to spend time with her as he had done up until now would be enough until she was ready for more. The glow gradually left his eyes as his thoughts inevitably turned back to everything she had been through, and he pulled away from her, suddenly uncertain about how close she really wanted him—especially after everything that had happened earlier.

"Adam," she said, her voice careful. "You may kiss me."

A weaker version of his usual half smile appeared and needing no more encouragement, he bent to touch his mouth to hers in a short but tender kiss.

"We should go inside," he murmured as he drew back, tucking a curl behind her ear, "you need to sit down and we can talk to Paul and my father."

She made a little, tired sound of agreement and he let go of her waist and stepped over to retrieve her bonnet from the bench. Then, after passing her the hat, he took her hand, pulling her to lean against him as they walked back through the grass towards the house.

xXXx

When they came into the dining room through the kitchen, Paul's and Ben's quiet conversation ceased. The two older men both stood from their chairs in the sitting room as the couple came closer and stopped by the settee. Madeline's eyes flickered between the two, as if unable to decide which of them to settle on. In the end, they landed on Ben and she pushed back her shoulders.

"You know all my secrets now, Mr. Cartwright. It was never my intention to be dishonest, and I apologize."

"Now Madeline," Ben set down his glass of brandy, stepping over to her to take her free hand. "Firstly, I thought we established that you call me Ben. Secondly, you had every right to keep those secrets. What has been said here today will never leave this room. I can inform Hoss and Joe about it, only If and when you want it," he emphasized the two words.

"I would like you to tell them, Ben. You have been so kind to me. I know that I can trust you all."

"All right." He patted her hand and released it. "How about some tea now? I'm sure you could use it and I'll bet I can rustle up something even without Hop Sing here." He glanced over at Adam. "You might want something a little stronger. Paul and I felt it was appropriate to get out the brandy."

That did sound like just what Adam needed, and he was about to guide Madeline over to the settee when she spoke to his father.

"I'll help you with the tea in the kitchen, Ben. Perhaps I could wash my face and clean up a bit too?"

"Of course, come with me, dear."

She looked up at Adam, and seeing the way he was regarding her, she smiled. "I'm fine. We won't be long."

Then the link of their joined hands was broken when she headed to the kitchen, Ben's steadying arm around her shoulder.

The great room went quiet and Paul settled back down in the red chair as Adam walked over to the table. Neither of the two men said anything—there was only the clinking sound of the brandy bottle bumping against the glass as Adam poured himself a drink. He sat down on the table and took a deep slug of the amber liquid.

"You know," Paul began, his fingers steepled by the string tie around his collar as he studied the younger man's profile. "Barely half an hour ago, I was thinking about how it can be possible that I hate a person whom I haven't even met so much."

Adam's brows pulled together as he listened, his elbows leaning on his knees as he held the drink in his hand.

"Trouble is, that kind of hatred might just consume a man . . ."

The doctor's words seemed to hang in the room and Adam gulped down another long drink, draining the glass.

"Paul . . . you still got that forwarding address in Georgia you used to contact Madeline?"

"I do. I take it you would like to have it."

"Yes, I would."

"All right. I'll make sure you get it. And I'll be discreet about it."

Although Adam wasn't facing the doctor, he could clearly feel those intense grey-blue eyes boring into him.

"Just be careful, Adam. That you don't let this thing get between you and her now."

That night, all four Cartwrights sat in the great room, nursing each of their own brandies.

"I just don't get it. I can't understand how a fella can do them things . . . and to a little sweet gal like that."

Hoss' face scrunched up in a grimace and he fell back on the settee next to Joe.

"I don't either Hoss," Ben said solemnly from the red chair. "Unfortunately, there are far too many men who consider their wives nothing more than their property. Who treat women in such disrespectful, cruel ways because sad as it is, the law permits it in a lot of places."

"I remember when I was a kid, there was this woman." Joe nibbled on the tip of his finger as he tried to remember. "Beth Peterson . . . she and her husband lived here for such a short time, but whenever I saw her, she looked sad, had bruises on her face. I've sometimes wondered what happened to her."

"Yes, I do remember her," Ben said as a picture of the woman formed in his mind. "We'll likely never know what became of her."

His sight drifted away from his two younger sons, over to his firstborn who was reclining in the blue chair. Adam had one foot resting on his other thigh—the one-hour-old drink of brandy still held in his lap. He was staring sightlessly out into the room, a clutched fist held against his closed mouth.

Joe and Hoss saw where their father was looking and faced each other.

"Well, I don't know about you fellas, but I'm gonna get myself to bed." Hoss stretched his arms out in front of himself. "I'm plumb tired out from all this heavy talkin' business."

"Yea, me too." Joe quickly downed the rest of his brandy.

They both rose from the settee and a small smile graced Ben's features. Hoss looked to his father, his forehead puckered and his big hands hanging awkwardly at his sides.

"I sure wish there was somethin' we could do for Miss Madeline."

"I think the best thing we can do, is to treat her as we normally would. Avoid acting differently around her just because we know these things now." Ben's eyes moved to Joe too. "I think she'd appreciate that from us."

The two brothers gave muted nods.

"Well, we'll see you in the mornin'." Hoss put a hand on his younger brother's back as the two walked past Adam towards the staircase. "Goodnight Pa . . . Adam."

The sudden movement in the room yanked Adam out of his pondering and he mumbled a low "Goodnight" in return to his departing siblings. When Hoss and Joe had disappeared up the stairs, Ben concentrated on his oldest boy. Only just discovering his forgotten drink, Adam swallowed down the contents of the glass, then turned it around in his hand while his throat worked through the burn.

"You've barely said two words since she left," Ben said.

Adam tilted his head, studying the fine crystal glass.

"A friend of mine is currently stationed at the Military Department in Georgia."

Not even a hint of reaction touched Ben's face at that statement. A considerable pause stretched out.

"I hope you know what you're doing, son."

"I need to find out where this guy is, Pa." The hazel gaze lifted and it was so bright, burning with determination. "I need to make sure that he isn't looking for her."

"I understand." Ben pushed himself up and out of his chair with a sigh. "It's late. You should try to get some sleep."

"I'm just gonna sit here for a while."

There was little to be done, Ben knew that, when his son returned to chasing those pensive thoughts. With nothing more to say, the father walked past the blue chair and headed for bed.