Author's Notes

Hi all!

Thank you for your kind well-wishes and reviews, I'm just happy to have more time to write again. I do enjoy writing the emotional scenes, and I try to keep the drama and the emotional struggles of the characters as realistic as possible, but it's also nice to work some humor back into the story. It's a difficult balance to strike, I think, but I'm pleased that you enjoyed the lighthearted moments in the last chapter. The brotherly banter needs to be in there and I just love writing Adam and Paul together. :)

I hope you all like this next part.

Chapter 34

An hour later, Madeline was still asleep. Adam was basically on pins and needles at that point and he could tell that Paul was also concerned. The doctor glared down at the journal propped on his knees, the pencil motionless in his hand. Just as Adam was about to suggest that they rouse her, he noticed the bed covers rustle down by her feet. His gaze darted up to her face where he saw her lashes begin to flicker.

He shot forwards in his chair. "Madeline . . .?"

That got Paul's attention too and the doctor mirrored his sitting position, blindly shoving the journal onto the night table. Her lashes fluttered like wings of a butterfly hesitating to take flight until finally, they parted.

Confusion clouded her eyes at first. When she was able to focus and see who was sitting next to the bed, a faint smile spread across her lips.

"Hi . . ." she said, her voice so weak, so small. Then her smile faded. "Is something wrong . . .?"

Paul and Adam glanced at each other and shared a mental cringe. Both of them leaning forwards in their chairs, staring at her in wide-eyed elation and relief—they probably did make a rather alarming sight for someone who'd just woken up.

"Wrong?" Paul coughed and leaned backwards, no doubt going for a casual recline. "No, nothing's wrong, nothing at all, we . . ." He twirled the pencil between his fingers. "Well, we're just happy to see you awake, dear."

"Oh . . ."

Her forehead creased in a worried frown when she saw the pillow on Adam's lap and his arm resting on it.

"How is your arm? Is it getting worse?"

Adam blinked down at his lap. "No, no, it's fine. I just . . ." He grappled for an explanation and ended up focusing on the occupant of the chair beside him. "The doc's insistence," he said, throwing his good hand out. "You know how he is."

"Indeed."

Said doctor managed to deliver that one word with all the dryness of trail-dust. Fortunately for Adam, Madeline was too sleep-dazed to pursue the matter.

"Do you think you could eat something, my Belle?" Paul asked. "You haven't had anything since breakfast yesterday and it's important you get some nourishment, so you can regain your strength."

Madeline thought for a moment. "I could try . . ."

"Very good. Adam, why don't you go—"

"I should probably stay here, Paul." Nodding at his arm, Adam gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Like you said, better not move it too much."

The eye-contact between the two men was really quite something. Adam thought he was being very reasonable, but Paul didn't seem to agree, if the muscle twitching in his cheek was anything to go by. Looking down, Adam was curious to see if the pencil in the doctor's clenched fist would snap in half.

"Of course . . ." Paul said in a labored tone, baring his teeth in some awkward combination of a grimace and a smile. "I'll go down and see if Hop Sing can't rustle something up."

Madeline watched him affectionately. "Thank you, Uncle Paul . . ."

"You just rest now. I'll be right back."

Paul stood from his chair, leaving Adam with the distinct impression that the last part of that sentence was directed at him.

As soon as the doctor had gone out into the hall, Adam placed the pillow on the foot of the bed and Madeline became his entire world. She seemed a little confused as she looked out at the room and he was literally sitting on the edge of his chair, wriggling like a child unable to sit still. He wanted to be closer to her, he just wasn't sure how to go about it. Whether she meant to or not, she soon gave him the perfect excuse when she shifted on the bed and he recognized what she wanted.

"You want to sit up?" he quickly asked.

"Yes, I . . ."

In one fluid motion, he moved from the chair to the side of the bed. With both hands under her arms, he helped her into a sitting position. His left arm made some vigorous protests at that, but he tried to ignore it and reached around her to arrange the pillows against the headboard.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you . . ."

Her lingering grogginess dissipated as her eyes settled on him. They roamed over his face, as if searching. For what, he didn't know, but he guessed that after last night, she needed some sort of reassurance from him. He brought his hand up to her cheek and tucked his favorite curl behind her ear. She smiled gently, lifted her hand and laid it against the back of his to keep his palm there. Her eyes fell closed. He couldn't resist—his gaze lowered to her mouth. Those plump, pink lips, so enticing. The memory of how sweet and soft they'd tasted the night before only made him crave them even more. His heart began to beat faster. Regrettably, he was very aware that he couldn't let himself get carried away. After all, Paul would be right back. But then, maybe just a quick kiss . . .

His thoughts were swiftly redirected when he saw that her eyes had opened again. They were fully alert now and shining with worry.

"What's wrong, honey?" he asked, stroking her cheek.

"Has . . . has Mr. Coffee been here yet?"

"No, not yet. It's still pretty early."

"Oh, good . . . because I really must speak with him. I need to explain everything to him and to your family, it's very important, Adam." She pulled his hand down from her face and held it tightly between her soft palms. "Promise me you will tell me when he arrives, even if I'm asleep and you have to wake me," she said, sudden urgency edging her voice.

"Okay, easy Madeline, I promise."

With a relieved sigh, she sat back against the pillows. When he noticed that the subtle wrinkles hadn't quite left her brow, he pushed on. "Right, what else?"

Tipping her head to the side, she eyed him questioningly.

"I'm sorry . . . what do you mean?"

"Something else is troubling you and I want to know what it is."

She nibbled on her full bottom lip, looking unsure and quite adorable.

"The restaurant," she eventually said. "Sally won't know what is going on, where I am or why. The cakes and pies that I usually make . . . well, you see, I am the only one who has the recipes for them and there are customers expecting them to be on sale. The older ladies who come in for their tea and cake on the weekends will be very disappointed, I'm afraid . . ."

She peered uncertainly at him and Adam had to swallow the exasperated words that wanted out. The only thing she should be thinking about was getting better—he didn't give a damn about whether or not Mrs. Abernathy got her favorite cake on the weekend. But this wasn't about him, he reminded himself. It was about Madeline and he knew how important her job was to her and how she worried about disappointing people. Besides, she wouldn't rest properly anyway before they had this little problem sorted out.

"All right, how about this," he said, smoothing his thumb back and forth along her palm, "you write a message for Sally and explain where you are and that you can't work at the restaurant for a while. We'll give it to Roy when he comes, he'll make sure she gets it. You can even write a couple of recipes down if you're up for it. You know most of them by heart anyway."

Her face contorted in concentration while she considered the idea. "I hadn't thought of that . . . you don't think Mr. Coffee would mind?"

"Trust me, he'll be happy to help. And Sally will understand." He shifted closer to her on the bed. "There's no need to worry, we'll figure everything out together, sweetheart. I'm taking care of you now."

She dipped her head and began rubbing his hand between both of hers. "You are . . .?"

"Oh, you bet I am."

A deep tenderness softened her expression as she looked up at him. "I have missed that . . ."

"Missed what?"

She reached up, touched the tip of her forefinger to the corner of his mouth, tracing the little curve. "Your smile . . ."

The curve inched higher and a dimple surfaced. He leaned towards her face. "You know what I've missed . . .?" he whispered.

Smiling in anticipation, she moved forwards to meet him. "What did you miss . . .?"

He was about to show her, when the horrible sound of footsteps entering the room stopped him just short of her lips.

"Well, that Hop Sing certainly is a man of foresight," Paul said loudly. "He's already made two types of broth for you. He'll bring some up in a minute, I believe you're in for a treat, little Belle."

Now, Adam wasn't one to jump to conclusions or make false accusations. But to be honest, he strongly suspected the doctor of running at least part of the way between this room and the kitchen.

Madeline looked around Adam to see her uncle. "Oh, I hope he didn't go to too much trouble . . . he really is a wonderful man. It's been such a long time since I last saw him . . ."

"Mmm, he was excited to see you too, dear."

Paul's line of sight switched to Adam, and his grey eyebrows jumped up as if he had only just spotted him sitting on the bed. "Why Adam! I thought we agreed that you would rest that arm of yours. Hmm, let's see, now what did you do with that pillow . . ."

Scratching at the bandage around his head, he searched for the missing item.

It was probably for the best that Madeline hadn't let go of Adam's good hand. It effectively prevented him from throwing something at the doctor. And he was tempted.

"Aha, here we are."

Paul held up the pillow by the foot of the bed and accompanied the movement with a look that encouraged Adam to return to his chair. Immediately. Madeline caressed the back of his hand, her soft eyes clearly asking him to bear with her uncle. With a somewhat forced smile, Adam gave her hand a little squeeze before rising from the bed. He had barely sat down in the chair again when the pillow plunked onto his lap.

Bear with Paul. Sure, he could do that. For now. But he longed for the day when he could shower Madeline with his love without having Paul Martin walk in on them every other minute. He only hoped that day would come soon.

It wasn't long before Hop Sing arrived with a big bowl of chicken broth and a chunk of freshly baked bread for Madeline. She was overjoyed to see him and quickly apologized for any inconvenience she might have caused him, as was her way. Hop Sing, of course, dismissed her apology and placed the tray across her lap while he chattered on about how nice it was to have her back at the Ponderosa again. The cook stuck around while she ate, and they talked about some new recipes he had been experimenting with. Not once did Hop Sing refer to anything that had happened over the last couple of weeks and he acted as he always had with her, making it seem like she was just there on a social visit. Adam was grateful to him for it because he could see how happy it made Madeline and how relaxed she became.

To both Adam's and Paul's delight she finished the entire bowl of broth and the bread. She thanked Hop Sing for the delicious meal and as he took the tray to return to the kitchen, he told her he would bring up some more treats for her later. On his way out of the door, the cook nearly collided with Ben who was on his way in. Madeline's face beamed when she saw him, and he strode straight to the bed where he sat down and took her hand, saying how good it was to see her awake and sitting up.

Adam watched the interaction with a subtle smile. It was obvious how fond his father had become of Madeline and it gave him a warm feeling inside, seeing them together. Like Hop Sing, Ben didn't mention anything about what had happened but only emphasized that she had been sorely missed around the Ponderosa. Madeline was so busy thanking him for taking her in at the ranch that she didn't notice when Hoss and Joe tentatively peeked into the room through the open door. In fact, no one noticed except for Paul and it wasn't until he beckoned them in that the brothers entered the room.

Madeline's first reaction upon seeing their battered appearances was immediate distress and they had to spend a good five minutes assuring her that they were all right. Joe fired off a couple of jokes about how nice it was to finally have a few days off work from their slave-driving father—which Hoss wholeheartedly agreed with. Since that seemed to lift her spirits, Ben refrained from commenting and instead settled for a raised eyebrow aimed at his youngest sons.

Adam watched his brothers' antics with amusement, but also became worried that Madeline would feel overwhelmed with everyone there. But on the contrary, she seemed happy to be surrounded by all the Cartwrights and asked Joe and Hoss about the work they had been doing around the ranch since she last visited. Adam was content to just listen to their conversation, relishing in simply hearing the sound of her voice. It struck him then, how well she fit in there, with his father and brothers, in their home. She was practically already a part of the family.

xXXx

About four o'clock in the afternoon, Adam and Paul were back in their chairs by the bed and Madeline was sleeping again. After she'd written down some recipes along with her message for Sally, they had given her some privacy to wash, take care of her needs and change into a fresh nightgown. But even that limited activity had taxed her strength and by the time they had come back into the room, she was barely able to keep her eyes open.

She had been dozing for close to half an hour when the sound of a horse coming into the yard alerted the two men. Adam got up and walked over to the window.

"It's Roy," he said, holding the curtains open.

Paul stood from his chair, watching Madeline. "We'll probably need to wake her then. She insisted on speaking to him in person . . ."

"Wait a minute." Turning around to the doctor, Adam rubbed his chin in thought. "Let's go down and talk to him first. We don't know what's been going on in town since we left yesterday, and I want to hear what he has to say before we involve her."

"I see your point . . . all right, let's go then."

As quietly as possible, they walked to the door which stood ajar. They closed it behind them and Madeline never stirred.

When the two came down the stairs, they saw Ben, Joe and Hoss forming a three-man half-circle around the sheriff. Roy stood in the middle of the sitting room, still wearing his hat and he was dressed in the same clothes he'd worn the previous day. The lines on his forehead were enhanced and his face held a look of sullen heaviness, almost as if his features had drooped under the weight of the grievous events that had taken place the day before. His demeanor was severe and solemn, matching his face precisely. And then there was something else too, a dark sense of foreboding that he'd brought with him into the house, palpable to everyone there.

"Hello Roy . . ." Adam said as he and Paul descended the last step and headed over to the group.

"Adam, Doc." The sheriff inclined his head at them. "I'm mighty glad to see ya both lookin' better. How's Miss Madeline?"

"She's sleeping just now. We're going to wake her in a minute, we just wanted to talk to you first and hear if you had any news."

"I reckon that was a good idea. Because I sure do have some news, Adam . . ."

Roy took off his hat and smeared a palm across his face. Judging by the dark shadows under his eyes, he hadn't gotten much sleep last night.

"So, I've gathered that this Ray Bradshaw and Chris Barns were one and the same? Miss Madeline's husband?"

"That's right."

"Well . . . turns out that Chris Barns had a partner by the name Robert Wickworth. They were involved in a fake railroad scam. Seems they've been travellin' around the West from town to town, swindling people by selling worthless railroad bonds. This morning, I received wires from a few sheriffs around Nevada and Utah who confirmed their identities. Two of the sleaziest confidence men I ever came across."

Hands on his hips, Joe turned to his father. "So, that was the railroad Bradshaw wanted to talk to you about at the International House. He was gonna try to get you to invest in it."

"Mmm . . . if he'd gotten an investment out of me, it would've helped him sell the deal to other businessmen around Virginia City too . . ." Ben mumbled, crossing his arms.

Hoss spoke up. "Roy, what about the partner, that Wickworth fella? Are you gonna try and track 'im down?"

"No. No, I won't be doing that, Hoss." The sheriff paused, pursing his lips. "Robert Wickworth was found in his room at the International House last night. He'd been strangled to death and stuffed in a closet."

An eerie silence engulfed the men. They traded glances, all thinking the same thing, yet no one moved or spoke for several seconds.

Adam was the first to react. "We're not telling Madeline about this."

Ben held up his hands. "Now Adam, we don't know for sure who—"

"Of course, we know who did it, Pa. It was him. Bradshaw murdered his partner."

"He's right, Ben" Roy broke in. "One of the men I got in jail told me that this Wickworth was planning to spill everything to me. So, Barns, uh or Bradshaw went and killed 'im. That must've been why he was in such a hurry to get Miss Madeline and leave town yesterday."

Everyone fell quiet again, struggling to find words as the extent of the man's insanity was becoming more and more apparent to them.

"Like I said . . . we're not telling Madeline about this." Adam swept a harsh look around him as if daring anyone to object.

"I have to agree with Adam," Paul stepped in. "There's no reason for her to know, especially not now in her vulnerable state."

"Yes, it probably is best to keep it from her for now." Ben's voice dropped, heavy with meaning. "But once the news spreads around town . . ."

"We'll deal with it then," Adam said with finality.

They all agreed on it and Roy faced Adam and Paul.

"Well, I'm just about ready to hear this whole story, if you think she's up for it."

Adam heaved a big breath. "She needs to tell it as much as you need to hear it." He turned in the direction of the staircase. "I'll go and get her."

xXXx

"You ready for this, sweetheart?"

"I'm . . . I hope so, Adam . . ."

"Just remember that everyone down there cares about you," Adam said, helping Madeline pull her blue robe tighter around her. "No one blames you for anything that happened yesterday, and they won't blame you for what's been going on these last couple of weeks."

When he finished tying the string of her robe around her waist, he put his hands under her elbows, completely unconcerned about how the pain in his arm was flaring up again.

"All you need to do, is tell it how it happened, just the facts. I'm sure you'll feel better afterwards, it'll be a relief when it's all out."

"Yes . . ."

She concentrated intensely on the top button of his shirt.

"I'll be right there with you, Madeline. Everything's gonna be okay . . ."

She wasn't even aware that she was doing it, but her hand had crept up to the high collar of her nightgown where her fingers were fidgeting with the white fabric, trying to tug it higher than it would go. He couldn't take it, watching her do that, so he took hold of her wrist to stop her.

"It's covered . . ." he simply said.

She swallowed and nodded. Speaking was beyond her just then, and he knew it. A smile, that's what he wanted to give her—a calm and reassuring smile. But he didn't have it in him. All he could do was take her hand and lead her out of the bedroom.

The muted conversation in the sitting room instantly ceased, and all heads turned towards the stairs as Adam and Madeline came down. Her fingers were bone-white as they curled around the wooden railing and Adam stayed close beside her with one supporting arm around her waist and his other hand holding hers in a firm grip. Her hair hung loose about her shoulders and moved in graceful waves down her back. The light-blue robe nearly went far enough to cover her feet and made it seem like she was floating down the staircase—her steps so light, the stairs didn't even creak where she treaded. There was a touching fragility to her appearance, as though she could break at any second and the slightest breeze could sweep her away. The men standing in the sitting room all found themselves affected by it, that beautiful frailness, and they watched her solemnly, their eyes alight with concern, their protective instincts stirred.

When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she looked over at them with a nervous smile and still not a word had been said. Adam was steering her straight towards the settee and they made it past Paul, Hoss and Joe when she suddenly stopped to address Roy.

"Mr. Coffee, it is nice to see you. Thank you for coming all the way out here."

Adam inwardly cursed her politeness and perfect sense of propriety. She needed to sit down, now, before she dropped.

"Let's, Madeline honey, let's sit down first and then talk . . ."

Roy seemed to share his sentiment because he motioned almost frantically to the settee.

"Yea, I—please, sit down, Ma'am . . ."

"Oh . . . yes, all right."

Adam helped her sit in the middle of the settee and he took his own seat right next to her, so near that the side of his body pressed against hers. He didn't think twice about grasping her hand again and her lips turned up a fraction when he did. In some circles, their closeness might be considered improper, especially since they were not yet formally betrothed, but he didn't care. Everyone in this particular room knew how he felt about her, and they could guess what his intentions were.

The others also settled down. Hoss and Joe perched by the fireplace, Ben took the red chair and Roy sat in the blue. Adam expected Paul to come over and sit down at Madeline's other side, but he didn't. The doctor stayed standing, leaning his elbows on the backrest of the red chair, hands folded by his mouth.

Roy took charge then and his tone was warm and full of feeling as he spoke to Madeline.

"I sure am sorry for everythin' you've been through Ma'am. I know ya must be tired out 'n all, but I was hopin' you could fill me in on a few things. To be frank, I'm a mite confused about everythin' that happened yesterday."

"Yes, of course, sir," she said, meeting the sheriff's eyes. "I really must explain . . . but I'm afraid it is a rather long story . . ."

"That's all right, I'm in no rush. You just take your time."

She glanced over at her uncle who watched her calmly until she looked back at the sheriff. Her mouth opened but slowly closed again. She was at a loss to know how to start.

As if he'd read her thoughts, Roy said, "Just start from the beginning, Miss."

"Yes, all right . . ."

Madeline wondered then, just what the beginning of it all actually was. And it became so clear to her, suddenly, that the beginning was the day she had married Ray Bradshaw. So, that's where she started. She explained about her marriage to Ray and why she'd left him, which was all news to the sheriff. Next, she spoke of her reasons for keeping the marriage a secret when she'd arrived in Virginia City. She had only ever discussed those things with two people—her uncle and Adam.

So much had happened since that Friday afternoon when she had finally told Adam the truth about her past—the same day he'd said he loved her for the first time at Silver Creek. Ben had also found out about her marriage that afternoon, after her uncle told him, and she remembered how understanding he'd been and that he'd offered to tell Hoss and Joe.

But now, it wasn't her uncle or Ben or Adam telling it—it was her—and even though she knew that Hoss and Joe had been informed of her past, they listened intently as she put it into her own words. Since they had gotten hurt and caught in the middle, she felt that it was the least she could do.

The next part was hard for her to get through. Everybody was startled when she revealed that Ray had broken into her uncle's house that first night she'd been alone there. Well, everyone except for Adam because he already knew. She still wasn't sure how Ray had found her and could only say that she believed he had been watching her for some time because he'd known about her uncle's trip to San Francisco.

As she went over the events of the last one and a half weeks, there were a couple of times where her voice died away when the memories came too close, became too painful. At those moments, her eyes grew glassy and distant and they took on a haunted quality, an indication of how much the horrors she had endured still affected her when she thought of them. But each time she seemed to lose herself in the past, a little squeeze to her hand brought her back to the present and she found strength in Adam's presence beside her to continue.

She explained about Ray's threats towards Adam and her uncle but didn't go into much detail about his abusive treatment of her. There were even a few episodes she chose to leave out. She was under no illusions; everyone knew she had been hurt—Adam and her uncle had seen her injuries and they would have told the others. But she saw no point in adding to their upset by mentioning more of the violence that had been done to her. It was over now, and her bruises would heal, like some already had. However, when she got to the part where Joe had been attacked, her conscience would only let her speak the entire truth. It was the incident, next to the attack on her uncle, that distressed her the most. She still felt guilty about not being able to get to the sheriff and about the fact that she had let Joe walk straight into an ambush without knowing it until it was too late. While she was relieved that he didn't blame her, she felt an aching pang in her heart each time she focused on his black eye, just as she did when she looked at the bandage around her uncle's head. So many people had been hurt because of a decision she had made three years ago when she'd agreed to marry the wrong man.

No one said anything while she spoke. There were no interruptions, no questions. Only her voice filled the room. But the men's responses to what she said were easy to discern by their tense postures and grim faces. Shock. Resentment. Outrage. But she recognized that their animosity wasn't aimed at her. Like Adam had told her before, they all cared about her and she saw it in the sympathetic way they regarded her in spite of their angry countenances.

It was all over before she knew it because, surprisingly enough, she really didn't recall much of what had happened the previous day. The last thing she clearly remembered, was Adam climbing over the fence to her uncle's back garden. After that, everything was blurry. Except for a few sharp images of her uncle lying unconscious on the kitchen floor and the chaotic scene at the livery stable. But all in all, everyone around her seemed to know more about what had happened yesterday than she did. When they sensed that she had trailed off for good, they started mumbling among themselves, now able to piece everything together.

She listened, but without taking much in. A huge wave of exhaustion and relief washed over her, and she unconsciously nestled closer to Adam's side. Her story had been told. She felt that she could finally begin to let go, now that she had explained herself to the people she cared about. It was as if she had talked everything out and the burden of all those words, of all the secrets and the hurt had lifted from her heart. It was quite a surreal feeling.

A brief, soft pressure to the top of her head made her smile slightly. She loved him so much. While everybody else was busy talking, he was quiet, just holding her hand, sneaking in a kiss to her hair.

Eventually, the men's voices died down and the serious, somber atmosphere had lifted considerably. Roy fell back in the blue chair, smoothing down his mustache.

"Well, after all that, I reckon I could do with a drink. What do you say Ben?"

Ben's eyes happened to be on Adam when Roy spoke, and they froze there for a moment. Then he smiled, just a little strained, and faced the sheriff. "Of course, Roy."

He stood up, but instead of going to the drinks cabinet by the dining table, he walked over to the alcove where his desk stood.

Madeline probably wouldn't have noticed that anything was wrong if not for her uncle and the odd way he suddenly looked over at her. Perplexed, she peered back at him. Until it dawned on her, what it was she found odd. His appraising eyes weren't actually on her, but on Adam.

Joe and Hoss spoke with Roy, discussing the charges that would be made against the men he had in jail, but Madeline found it difficult to concentrate on their conversation. Ben returned from the alcove with a bottle of brandy and continued towards the drinks cabinet. A look passed between him and her uncle, and she caught it. Less than a minute later, he came back to the sitting room, holding a tray with crystal glasses and the brandy bottle.

A strange tension filled the room as Ben started pouring the drinks, first one for Roy, then for Paul. Whatever was going on, Madeline got the sense that Adam was somehow at the center of it. Starting to feel uneasy, she sat up straighter and angled her head towards him. She found that he was watching her. He was watching her like she was the only other person in the room and like nothing existed except for her. His half-smile appeared, but something about it was off, and she was unable to smile back.

When Ben had poured a third glass of brandy, he held it out to Hoss who said, "No thanks, Pa."

Ben looked surprised but quickly recovered. He moved towards Joe who promptly shook his head and held up a hand. "No thanks, not for me, Pa."

That was when Adam faced away from Madeline. She saw him gaze over at his brothers, who in turn both looked down at the floor.

Ben hesitated. Just a short, quiet hesitation and yet it told so much. Finally, he shifted towards Adam and in a motion that was half-hearted at most, he held out the full brandy glass in the air. Saying nothing.

Adam pulled his sight away from his brothers and stared at the glass.

"No thanks, Pa," he said in a soft voice and bowed his head.

Madeline's throat had gone dry and her chest felt painfully tight. She studied the side of his face, her eyes bright, but she knew better than to expect him to look at her.

It was Ben who put an end to the suffocating silence. "Well, then . . ." He held up the glass and his tone was strong and unwavering. "To family and friends, and to swift recoveries. And Madeline, dear," he said, drawing her attention, "I want you to know that we're very happy to have you here with us. You have a home at the Ponderosa for as long as you need it."

Hoss and Joe gave hums of agreement to that and Ben glanced at her uncle standing next to him. "That goes for you too, Paul."

Madeline regarded them with misty-eyed gratitude. "Thank you all so much . . ." Her uncle raised his own drink. "We appreciate it, Ben."

Roy also lifted his glass. "I'll drink to all of that."

The three men took long sips of their brandies and Hoss and Joe started talking about nothing in particular. It was just talk for the sake of talking, designed to prevent another silence.

Tentatively, Madeline turned back to Adam. His head was still down, his dark brows dipping low like he was concentrating very hard. But she'd already seen more than he'd wanted her to see.

In her gentle manner, she tried a light squeeze to his hand. After a second, he raised his chin, presenting a blank expression to the rest of the room, emotions hidden perfectly like only he could manage it. Then he squeezed her hand back. A private, loving communication that only the two of them knew about. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his shoulder. This was her place, where she belonged. She needed him. And she was beginning to understand just how much he needed her.