Author's Notes

Hi everybody!

Firstly, I have to thank you all for so many and for such sweet reviews on the last chapter. Guests and Members, you are amazing. The fact that so many of you like Madeline makes me very happy (thank you for the reassurance!) but I know she won't be everyone's cup of tea and that's perfectly fine. One dear Guest put it better than I ever could; Madeline is a woman of the times and feels the need to be respectable. But heck, she's still a woman and she's being courted by Adam Cartwright and they are very attracted to each other. In this next chapter, I thought we should have Adam's take on the situation. :)

Thank you Reader, for your ever wonderful reviews and it brings me great joy to know that this story is worth a second read. :)

I have no excuse for taking so long with a new chapter other than I had a bit of writer's nerves. But here it is at long last and I hope it has turned out okay. We're going for that picnic! I'm almost finished with the next chapter too which will be up in a few days.

I hope you're all well and happy and I wish you a great week!

Chapter 41

They couldn't have picked a better day for the picnic. A week into September now, late summer was creeping into fall and the weather was crisp and clear. It was almost as if the recent rains had washed the air clean after a long, sweltering August. The sky blazed limitless blue with not a wisp of cloud in sight. They went to Hoss Heaven as planned, which was a unique section of the Ponderosa and every bit as heavenly as its name suggested. As a matter of fact, it was the very picture of tranquility, complete with a flowery meadow nestled by the side of a slow-moving river. Bathed in the golden light of the afternoon, the meadow lay as a brilliant expanse of emerald green, bursting with blossoms in every hue. The tall grasses waved gently in rhythm with the breeze, like in a slow waltz. Along the east side of the field, the river flowed lazily—the unstirred surface of the water like a perfect mirror, reflecting the sky. Dense woods enclosed the rest of the meadow with stately pines and firs hugging it protectively, and above the tree tops, the mountains soared with majesty—purple-grey peaks with pine-dressed slopes. The place was indeed like a piece of heaven fallen on earth.

To Hoss' evident delight, everyone agreed that the serene surroundings were perfect for the picnic. Or, almost everyone did. As it turned out, absolutely nothing about the weather or the setting, suited Adam's mood.

He was sitting in the shade of a tree, cross-legged, back propped up against the rough bark. The woolen blanket under him did very little to cushion his rear end against the hard ground. Every time he shifted, various tree roots and sharp twigs popped up to jab at him. One very outspoken blue jay had decided that out of the thousands of branches in the vicinity, it would sit on one directly above Adam's head where it kept piping up in a jarring, high-pitched noise. And if all that wasn't enough, the glaring sunshine that everyone around him thought so highly of was mocking his foul mood.

It seemed Mother Nature had some elaborate plot against him.

Adam muttered a quiet oath and slumped forward, pressing the heels of his hands against his aching eyes.

The ride out had been unpleasant, for him at least. Despite the slight chill in the air, he'd felt hot and uncomfortable. After ten minutes on horseback, he needed to shrug out of his jacket because the bandage around his arm had become damp with sweat which aggravated his wound. Probably something Paul would have wanted him to mention. He hadn't, of course. He hadn't said a word to anyone during the ride. Once they'd found a spot to sit down for their meal, he did try to pay attention to the conversation going on between the others. But he was just too preoccupied to be sociable and he'd had trouble focusing on anything properly. Actually, he couldn't even remember now what sandwich he'd eaten. It had been a relief for him when everybody had finished eating and gone off to do their own things. All Adam really wanted to do at this point was to sit in the shade, alone, with his unsettled thoughts.

Currently what he was doing.

His legs had gone numb from sitting cross-legged for too long. It didn't help his mood any. Slowly, he stretched them out, gritting his teeth through the expected onslaught of pins and needles shooting up from his feet. It was several painful seconds later before the sensation wore off. He crossed his ankles and moved, or rather shoved, a stuffed picnic hamper aside to make more room for himself. Typical of Hop Sing, sending them off with enough food to feed a regiment. How the cook had managed to fit all their picnic supplies onto the buggy was beyond him. Facing out towards the meadow, Adam felt around the blanket with his hand, searching for his coffee. He found the neglected cup, picked it up and tipped it against his lips. Unexpectedly, a cold liquid trickled into his mouth and in his dismayed surprise he sat forward with a lurch, managing to spill some of the drink down his shirt. He could just imagine the bizarre, sour look he must have had on his face. As if to drive the point home, that fool bird screeched at the top of its lungs from above—a drawn-out, shrill sound that unquestionably equaled a howl of laughter in bird-language. Adam tilted his face up and glared at it. Tiny thing like that, daring to ridicule him. He swore he could see its beady black eyes staring down at him. Glowering, he swallowed the sip of coffee in his mouth and set the half-full cup back down.

Damn bird. Damn cold coffee. Damn this day.

Wiping his chin and now damp shirt, Adam looked ahead at the meadow again, to see Madeline. Instead, what met his eyes was the ridiculous sight of his two full-grown, rowdy brothers picking flowers.

Hoss and Joe were sticking up out of the high grass—their heads bent, faces set in serious, engrossed expressions. Both of them carried a brightly colored bundle of blossoms. Hoss plowed through the field with about as much grace as a buffalo looking for a mud hole, and left a ragged, bending path behind him—conspicuous as a trail would look in new-fallen snow. Joe followed and had, unbeknownst to him, a scattering of rosy flower petals poking out of his confused chestnut mop. For a little bit Adam just watched them, his annoyance diminishing slightly under a pinch of amusement. Every now and then, when they seemed to think they'd discovered a particularly pretty flower, they went to show it to Madeline who was gathering her own bouquet nearby. Like a pair of puppies jostling for approval and attention from their mistress.

Adam snorted and shook his head at the spectacle. It was strange how everyone he knew acted differently when in Madeline's presence. How they behaved in ways they normally wouldn't—all because of her. She never even needed to ask anyone for anything, which she so rarely did. She just had this way about her that made people naturally want to do things for her. And with her. Heck, he should know. He hadn't forgotten that time when he'd somehow ended up baking an apple pie with her in Paul's kitchen. That was just Madeline. She drew people in with her beauty, with her caring nature, and then, she captured them with the kindness of her smile.

Hoss especially, looked like he was having a fine time with her at the moment. He grinned goofily as she accepted a bright orange flower that he must have insisted she should have. Watching them, Adam felt a spike of jealousy as well as a stir of guilt. Just a few hours ago, he'd entertained not so brotherly thoughts about squashing his big-hearted sibling's face into a plateful of scrambled eggs. And by now he'd realized that Hoss had, in his exasperatingly innocent way, actually done him a favor. If not for this irritating Hoss Heaven idea, he might have made a very big mistake. Like their father had predicted at breakfast, the fresh air had indeed helped clear his head, and as Adam now examined himself in this ruthless clarity, he recognized that his initial plan to go for a walk with Madeline alone had been a bad one. In light of what had occurred in his bedroom earlier—going anywhere alone with her today would have been nothing short of madness.

Sighing, Adam tipped his head back against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. Going back, in his mind, over what had happened with Madeline.

She had done that thing again. She'd approached him in a weak moment when he wasn't prepared for her and she'd broken down his walls. To smithereens. She'd reached for him with her compassion and she'd touched that compact knot of emotions and pain he harbored inside. And by doing so, she'd gotten him to open up. About painful things he'd deliberately kept close to himself. Under her gentle handling, that tight knot had loosened ever so slightly. Naturally, he'd behaved like a fool, as was his habit when under emotional strain. As always, Madeline had been sweet and understanding. And patient. God, she'd been patient. But the conversation, troubling as it had been, wasn't what bothered him most now. What had occupied his mind all day, was that kiss.

Thinking about it made his body shudder with a delayed spasm of pleasure even as he cringed inside.

He'd let himself get carried away. Again. He had no business kissing or touching her like that. This was the second time he'd done it and like once before, they'd almost been caught. It was as if his brain shut off, logic deserted him when he was with her and his body took over and acted the way his instincts urged him to. She just had that effect on him. Of course, he'd sensed her hesitance, her nervousness. But Madeline had always been that way with him when it came to these things—ever since that first time he'd ever kissed her, at Silver Creek. He wasn't stupid, he understood why now. Given her past and everything that had been done to her, her apprehension when it came to physical intimacy was hardly surprising. And yet, this morning he'd moved in regardless, mindless and overcome by love and passion. All too eager to chase that sweet responsiveness that he knew he could draw out of her—if she let him. He had tried to go slow and reassure her. But then, that spine-tingling moment had come when his heart seemed to stop, and he'd finally seen in her confused eyes the very emotion he'd been looking for. Desire. And in the same, thrilling second he saw it, he'd realized that Madeline didn't fully understand herself, what that feeling was.

That, in and of itself, should have been enough to stop him. It should have at least made him pause and think about the implications. But despite knowing what he did, he'd acted a true madman and gone right ahead and seduced her into a kiss anyway. Yes, seduced her. And it wasn't just any kiss, but the sort of kiss that held all the intentions of much, much more . . .

His gut tightening at the recollection, Adam abruptly opened his eyes. Shimmering sunlight streaked through the branches above him. The blue jay was watching him through its little black beads, like it could read his thoughts and now knew what he had done. It stared condemningly. Which he deserved.

God knows how far he would have taken things with Madeline if they hadn't been interrupted. He had no right to put her in such a vulnerable position. And then, after having lost control of himself in the most reprehensible manner, what had he gone and done a minute later? Tried to cajole her into going for a private walk with him—just the two of them. He cursed his lustful little mind. Hell, she'd probably been relieved when Hoss had jumped in with that Hoss Heaven suggestion, offering her a way out. The fact that she'd so obviously felt sorry for him only made him feel worse.

"Idiot," he muttered to himself. The bird threw its head back and belted out a squeal, seeming to agree.

Adam stared up at it. The creature had some nerve. He gave it the most ferocious scowl he could muster. The bird looked quite unmoved. Showing no visible signs of distress, it began to preen its feathers.

Cursing ardently, Adam sat up again, scrubbing his face with his hands. His palms encountered coarse bristles and he grimaced. When was the last time he'd shaved? It probably hadn't even been very nice for Madeline, kissing him. Deepening his breathing, he massaged the sore cluster of tension between his brows.

He needed to get a grip on himself. He couldn't be doing things like that with her, not before they were married. From now on, he had to do right by her. That meant putting all his other concerns at the back of his mind so he could concentrate just on her. It also meant getting around to having a proper talk with Paul. He had to clear the air with the doctor once and for all before he proposed to her. It was the honorable thing to do. A sense of dread enveloped him at the prospect, especially considering the scalding argument they'd had the last time he tried to broach the subject. But then, something inside him hardened. He would try to make his friend understand his feeling for Madeline but if that didn't work, then Paul would just have to accept that he was going to marry her sooner or later. Preferably, sooner.

The distant sound of her voice jolted him out of his reverie, causing Adam to look up. She was holding a hand by her mouth, rushing through the meadow with Joe. They headed towards the only visible part of Hoss, which was his brown hat floating above the grass. Adam's gaze tracked her intently. The grass went almost up to her hips and she looked so beautiful like that, floating on green, sunshine in her hair. A few more of her long tresses had escaped her up-do and the red and green colors of her dress matched her surroundings like it had been made for the scene. He liked that dress on her. A lot. It clung to her in all the right places. It accentuated her womanly curves in exquisitely pleasing ways. A shiver crawled the length of his spine as he remembered how soft the material had been when he'd touched her earlier. He wondered if the fabric was soft like that on the inside too. Against her bare skin. His brows drew together as he considered that because obviously, she wore other things under that dress.

White, delicate things that ladies wore . . .

Adam tugged at his shirt collar. All of a sudden, just as he was becoming hot and noticeably bothered, Madeline was gone from his view as a curious horse snout appeared inches from his face. It nuzzled his neck in quick greeting, then dove down to find his palm—the place where apples and other goodies sometimes magically sprouted.

"No boy," Adam mumbled, holding up his hand. "I haven't got anything."

Sport snorted and bared his teeth as though grinning and saying, "Yea, good one, Master."

He moved to eagerly sniff his shirt instead.

"I said no." Adam patted the silky muzzle, then pushed it away. "Now go. Go."

His upper lip curling, Sport made a series of squealing grunts. He stretched his neck up and stood tall, towering over Adam. Then, with a regal bearing, the chestnut turned and walked off again, his tail jerking sharply from side to side.

"You better watch out he doesn't throw you on the way home for that," a deep voice called.

Adam glanced left and saw his father coming towards him from the riverbank, carrying his hat in one hand.

"Madeline gave him plenty of snacks earlier," he replied, turning back to observe his departing horse. "He's already had more than his fill."

"He doesn't seem to agree with you."

As if to confirm the sentiment, Sport twisted his head around and cast a mean look at his human.

Adam's mouth curled up a fraction. "He's just being moody."

"Mmm. He isn't the only one."

The words were muttered in a low tone, but the message was quite clear. Adam angled a look at his father who'd stopped over by the small camp fire they'd built earlier to brew coffee.

"You got something you wanna say?"

Ben cocked a dark brow. "That depends. You want to tell me what's on your mind?"

For a prolonged, defiant second, Adam held his eyes. Then, he faced forwards again.

"Nope."

A pause.

"And you're sure about that?"

"Positive."

Damn right he was sure. A lecture from his father on gentlemanly conduct was the last thing Adam wanted on this already-loathsome day he was having. Not to mention, it would be pretty embarrassing to be scolded for risqué behavior at the age of thirty-one.

A muffled thud sounded just beside him and without looking, he knew that his father's hat had just been tossed onto the blanket. Next, the man materialized before him. Adam had to crane his neck to look up at his face. Hands on his hips, Ben lowered a disapproving gaze down upon him, adopting—to perfection—the stance of exasperated parent preparing to chastise unruly child. Involuntarily, Adam squirmed.

"Fine, so you don't want to talk to me about it. But I'm going to ask you to stop acting like this."

Averting his eyes, Adam let a note of irritation tinge his voice. "Acting like what? Can't a guy have a moment's peace in the shade without being hassled?"

"Well now, I'm sorry for hassling you son, but this whole brooding-under-a-tree business isn't good for you and to be honest, it's tiresome to watch."

Adam crossed his arms. "I'm not brooding."

"Really." Exercising that left eyebrow again, his father thrust a hand at him. "Then what do you call this?"

He offered a slight shrug. "Thinking."

It was fairly impossible to maintain any degree of dignity with his old man looming over him.

"All right," his father said, giving three slow, calculated nods as his hands returned to his hips. "But, while you're here doing all this thinking of yours, Madeline is worrying about you."

Adam frowned. "What are you talking about?" He indicated the meadow with a jerk of his chin. "She's out there with your two budding florists."

Ben fetched a deep, long-drawn sigh, looking like a man whose patience was rapidly nearing its end. "Yes, I have eyes, I can see that," he said with exaggerated forbearance. "But I've also seen how she looks over at you every other minute with a concerned look on her face just as she did repeatedly during the ride out here and just as she has done ever since we arrived. Maybe you were so busy thinking, you didn't notice."

Adam's heart sank like a lead weight. What? He faced out towards the field. Madeline stood next to Hoss who was once again upright, if looking somewhat rumpled. She smiled slightly at something he said. And just a few seconds later, her gaze slid in Adam's direction. Her smile faltered as their eyes connected and even from here, he could make out the worry lines forming across her forehead. Promptly, guilt roared through him, deafening and sharp. He ducked his head. How could he have missed that?

"Look, I know this trip didn't turn out as you would've liked it to," his father went on, "but don't you think you're being a bit unreasonable? The poor girl can't be everywhere at once."

Adam found it difficult to speak. Very aware now that outwardly, his behavior was that of a little kid who hadn't gotten what he wanted. In his continued silence, he felt his pa's stare intensify.

"Well, son?"

That was a two-worded command for and answer or at the very least, eye contact. Not to be ignored. What little sense Adam had left, warned him of that. He began to raise his head, hoping to come up with some response that would be defensive and poignant enough to end this disturbing talk, but as he looked up, all he could do was gape.

The bird.

It was no longer above him. Now it was perched on a branch directly above his father's head. Staring down at him, unblinking, with its bottomless black pellets. The creature had moved to get a better view of the dramatic scene.

You're enjoying this, aren't you?

"Adam!"

Adam's eyes jerked back to his father. For one horrible moment, he thought insanity had finally claimed him and he'd spoken out loud to the blue jay. He saw a wide range of puzzlement mingled with annoyance in his father's features. And suddenly, everything was too much. Half a day's worth of simmering frustration boiled over as Adam jolted back against the tree trunk, throwing his arms out.

"I don't know what to say, all right? I don't know what you want from me, Pa!"

An oppressive silence fell around them as the outburst died. Adam lowered his head, unable to look his father in the eye. He knew full well he was out of order, but as he'd learned over the years—attack was the most effective defense—and this was what he resorted to when someone backed him into a corner. Or in this case, a tree. At least fifteen seconds went by where nothing happened. Then, Ben moved. Adam sensed him step around to his left, push the picnic hamper away and sit down next to him.

"Are you really that offended about Madeline accepting Hoss' offer?" he asked. "You know how your brother can be. With the position he put her in, she couldn't really do much else. She just didn't want to hurt his feelings."

There was no irritation to his tone, just that probing parental concern. Adam's guard lowered, an instinctive response, and his whole body seemed to sink.

"No, I guess not," he said with soft surrender. "You uh . . . you think that's why she did it?"

He snuck a glance at his pa to see his reaction to the question.

A deep furrow divided Ben's eyebrows. "Why else would she?" His eyes took on a calculating gleam. "Is everything all right between you and her?"

Adam rubbed the back of his neck. "Sure. I mean, I hope so. Except . . . I kind of behaved like an idiot with her this morning," he confessed, then stilled, slightly alarmed that he'd let that information slip so easily. "But I don't want to go into it," he quickly added.

A mute ahh shaped his father's mouth. "And you think that's why she agreed to Hoss' idea instead of going for a walk with you?"

Adam lifted a shoulder. Silently, he flicked something invisible off his pants.

"Frankly, I doubt it," Ben said.

Something about his tone made Adam turn back to him and he found his father was wearing a subtle, touch-of-smug smile that gave the impression he knew something Adam didn't. "But if you're really concerned then maybe you should just talk to her about it."

Inwardly, Adam groaned. That advice sounded peculiarly familiar.

"As for you behaving like an idiot earlier," his father continued conversationally, "Well, in my experience—limited experience as it is, of course—in order to make amends for stupid behavior a man has to first break the cycle of foolishness."

Adam's gaze narrowed on him. "Meaning . . .?"

"Meaning you have to stop sitting around here like a brooding fool and get out there."

He waved out at the meadow to clarify. He employed his stern tone of voice, but it somehow didn't match the little crinkles by his eyes. Nor the twinkles playing in his dark depths.

A ghost of a smile worked itself onto Adam's face. His father twisted sideways and reached for the picnic hamper, rummaged through it and fished out a book.

"That was a whole lot of wisdom you crammed into this little discussion," Adam mumbled, watching him.

"I try, son. I try."

He flipped the book open on some random page and began reading. Two sentences later, he looked up. "Well? Off with ya boy!"

He actually swatted him. With a resigned shake of his head, Adam pushed forward and slowly raised himself off the ground. He bent to pick up his black Stetson, all the while keeping his eyes locked on his pa who pretended to be emerged in the book. Then he straightened and slammed the hat on his head.

"Thanks, Pa."

Without waiting for a reply, he spun on his heel and strode off towards the meadow. Admittedly, it was an admirable skill, his father's ability to make him feel about nine years old in such a brief interaction. Adam grimaced. He didn't know how the man did it. He was only glad that there hadn't been any witnesses about for this. Well, except for the feathered beast. Speaking of, behind him he heard three piercing squawks. They came in quick succession, sounding almost like chanting. He looked back over his shoulder. The bird's little body did a hop on the branch. Was it urging him on? Or was he losing his mind? Adam decided to believe the former. As he resumed his course, he found he almost appreciated the support. He didn't feel confident at all about what was about to happen. With Madeline in his sights, he headed out into the field, unease coiling in the pit of his stomach.

xXXx

Grass swooshed and flowers nodded merrily around him as Adam made his way through the meadow. Madeline stood with Hoss and Joe in the center of the field, but they hadn't seen him approaching yet. He was glad of that because he must have made an odd sight—a lone figure dressed in all black, surrounded by all the colors of the rainbow. He felt out of place here. He'd fitted better in the shade. Madeline belonged perfectly, amidst the colors, the light and the serenity. She was the closest thing to an angel on earth so it made perfect sense that she would look at home here in Hoss Heaven. But Adam didn't belong. In any kind of heaven. Still, in his heart he knew that being with Madeline meant that he sometimes had to go to places where he didn't feel comfortable. In order to get to her, he had to follow through with this.

Steeling his resolve, he pushed on through the grass. He pulled his Stetson lower across his brow, his nostrils twitching. The air was scented with the sweet fragrance of the blossoms, blended with a faint tang of pine. He dragged in a deep breath, trying to infuse his body with some of all that tranquility surrounding him. As a result, his stomach flipped over. This wasn't going to go well. He could feel it. His tension was growing with every step he took towards her. He felt the weight of his guilt as though a dark, errant cloud hung over him on this perfectly cloudless day. Now that he knew she'd been worrying about him, he felt like an even bigger idiot. Who would have thought it possible. Barely out of the shade for two minutes and he was already sweating. His shirt clung uncomfortably to his skin as he neared her. Madeline stood with her side to him and the sound of her voice was clear now as she said something to Joe, but Adam couldn't decipher her words. The pounding in his head was too disturbing. His thoughts raced to fast for him to focus. Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks and his knees went startlingly weak. He didn't even know what to say to her. Where did he even begin? There was no excuse for any of his behavior today.

And then, as if she'd sensed his eyes on her, Madeline turned her head. The rest of her body quickly followed when she spotted him, and a ray of relief glided over her countenance. A fresh slice of guilt knifed through Adam's chest because now it was painfully obvious to him, the worry floating in those huge green pools of her eyes. Clutching her neat bouquet of flowers against her belly, she finished what he'd started as she walked the last few feet between them.

"Hi . . ." she said tentatively as she stopped in front of him. Hesitating briefly, she reached out and ran her hand lightly down his arm to his hand. His muscles tensed under her touch. She squeezed his fingers carefully, and his heart contracted. It was a welcome he wasn't worthy of.

"Did you have a nice rest in the shade?" she asked.

There was such hope in her voice. Adam attempted a smile but knew he failed. The shame filling him wouldn't permit it.

"Yea . . ."

That was all he managed. He fought to get his voice to cooperate. But Madeline didn't seem to expect any sort of explanation from him, she just said, "That's good." Her face brightened a little as she stroked over his knuckles. "I'm glad you came out here."

Her kind smile, her soft voice, her soothing touch. He didn't deserve this woman. Yet, he absorbed it all, greedy and needy as he was, he accepted the comfort her presence gave him because he just couldn't help himself. He wanted it so badly. He concentrated on her, on the caress of her fingers as she soothed something deep inside him. His thoughts began to settle, and he felt himself calm. Gathering himself, he looked straight into her eyes, took her hand and enclosed it within his. He made another attempt at a smile and this time it felt more sincere. It must have been because her own smile seemed to lift higher. There was still a trace of wariness in her expression though, reminding him of the reason he was here, of what he needed to say.

"I uh," he began in a halting voice and glanced around them, "Look, about earlier, I—"

"Hey Adam!"

Adam winced at the inconvenient interruption. Great. Hoss and Joe chose that moment to finally notice him.

Both of them grinned from ear to ear as they rushed over and came to a halt on either side of Madeline.

"You dang well snuck up on us there, older brother!" Hoss exclaimed and gave Adam a slap on the back that almost set him coughing.

"We better keep an eye on him, Hoss," Joe said with a smirk, "I think he was trying to lure Madeline away with him to someplace in the shade."

His lungs still disconcertingly rattled, Adam almost choked. Avoiding Madeline's eyes, he quickly released her hand and opened his mouth to deliver some comeback, but his kid brother was already onto other matters.

"Here you go Madeline," Joe said, holding out a flower to her, "I found another one of those purple ones. The petals are kinda dangly though."

"Thank you, Joe."

Smiling faintly, Madeline accepted the blossom and searched for the perfect place for it in her bouquet. As Adam breathed slowly to compose himself, he took notice of their three flower bundles. Madeline's bouquet was an arrangement of harmonizing colors in purples, pinks and whites, elegant and dainty, just like her. The color cohesion was rather disrupted by one bright orange blossom, but nevertheless, she'd chosen to place it in the center of the bouquet as if it was the most special of them all. Joe's flowers had a bolder color scheme in shades of yellow, orange and fiery red—a real handful of warmth and cheer. And Hoss' flower bundle, twice the size of the other two, was an uproar of color. Adam found himself on the brink of being amused. It looked like his brother had tried to find a different shade with every flower he'd picked.

"What do ya think Adam?" Hoss asked, noting his perusal. With a crooked grin, he lifted the vibrant bunch right up to Adam's face. "Ain't they a sight?"

Adam cocked his head to the side as he considered the blooms, one corner of his mouth inching up. "Looks kinda like weeds to me."

"Oh Adam," Madeline chided in her soft tone. Her sight fell to her own bouquet as she rearranged a few blossoms. "They're wildflowers . . ."

Even when chiding him, she was delightful.

"That's right, Adam," Hoss jumped in, frowning and taking offense on behalf of the plants. "They're about the prettiest flowers I ever came across. Ain't that right Miss Madeline?"

"I must agree with you Hoss."

Opening his hands in a gesture of placation, Adam spoke calmly. "All right, I stand corrected."

Hoss gave a jerky nod. He began fretting over his flowers, his bottom lip still protruding slightly. Adam stole a glimpse at Joe. The kid looked greatly entertained by the exchange. Hoss continued to poke and fuss over the blooms, arranging them into some neat order that existed only in his imagination. Adam regarded him with a half-smile as he folded his arms across his chest.

"So, how's this segue into floristry comin' along for you?"

The big man screwed his face up. "Hah? My what?"

Beside him, Joe released a chortle. Adam's amusement grew when he caught Madeline's struggle to keep her lips straight as she took a few steps away from them to examine a group of blossoms.

"I don't know why ya always gotta say strange things like that when they don't make no sense," Hoss grumbled at him.

"Sorry." Adam tamed his smile and gestured to the flowers. "What are you gonna do with them? Sell them in Virginia City? Have them on your desk in your room?"

A deep ridge appeared in Hoss' forehead. "I reckon I ain't thought of that yet."

"Perhaps there is a young lady whom you might like to give them to," Madeline suggested as she bent down to look closer at a white flower.

The tips of Hoss' ears turned red at impressive speed. A strangled sound escaped Joe, like smothered laughter. Adam resisted the urge to look over at him. When Madeline received no answer, she threw a questioning glance at Hoss.

"I can't rightly think of anyone, Ma'am," he muttered, searching for his boots in the grass.

A silence formed.

"Well . . . there's always Cora Beth," Joe offered.

At that, Hoss snapped his head up. "You kin just stop right there shortshanks." He eyed Joe fiercely. "There ain't no way I'm givin' that gal anythin'. No flowers, no nothin'."

"It was just an idea, big brother," Joe said, smiling deviously.

"And a dang harebrained one at that. I'd just as soon tangle with a wildcat!"

"Okay okay, keep your hair on. I don't know what you've got against her. She's still sweet on you, everybody knows that, and there was a time when you were pretty taken with her. Personally, I think you're perfect for each other."

Adam looked back and forth between his siblings. He had a feeling they were just getting started.

"I dun told ya Joe, me and that Cora Beth ain't never goin' together again after what happened at the last box social. That lady's just . . . doggonit, you saw what happened! She's plumb loco!"

"Oh, come on Hoss, you can't still be sore over that . . ."

The rest of Joe's reply blurred as Adam deliberately turned his mind away from their conversation. Content with not knowing what had transpired at the last box social, his eyes and thoughts went to Madeline instead. She didn't seem to be listening either. She appeared to have retreated into her own little world as she wandered around just a few feet away. Her face was directed downwards while her fingers glided over the vivid buds. He saw the flicker of her lashes as she scanned the flowers, and the soft upward curve to her lips. The hint of smile bloomed into cute dimples when a mischievous butterfly flitted straight past her dainty nose. A chuckle rose in Adam's throat, but he quickly repressed it, unwilling to make a sound for fear of disturbing her. He could watch her forever like this. She bent to study many flowers closely, even ones that, to him, looked nothing special at all. She'd stopped plucking them though, he noticed. It became clear that she just spent her time smelling and admiring the blooms as her fingertips lightly grazed over them. Like she wanted to connect with as much nature as she could. Adam's chest swelled and if it was even possible, he loved her a little bit more. He loved that her innocent eyes saw such beauty in something so simple. That her heart took such pleasure in things as small and ordinary as wildflowers. That she looked so natural and peaceful in this little world of hers and that her feelings showed so effortlessly upon her face. Yes, he could happily keep watching her like this. But it wasn't to be. Because again it was as if she had some special sense that told her he was watching her, and she lifted her head and gazed at him. His eyes didn't waver, and she offered a curious, slightly hesitant smile. His body, which seemed consistently unreliable whenever she was near, did not disappoint in its reaction now. His muscles seemed to turn liquid and his heart felt as though it might lift right out of his chest and take to the sky. He hoped his return smile wasn't as shaky as she made him feel. A pretty pink stained her cheeks and she tipped her face down. She didn't look up him again. He kept observing her as she moved a couple of steps away to look at more flowers. He began a debate in his mind on whether or not he should approach her and make another attempt at the conversation he'd barely gotten started before. Nothing about her behavior suggested that she was disappointed in him or upset about what he'd done earlier. But he still felt that niggling guilt in his gut. He still felt like something wasn't quite right between them. She almost seemed uneasy . . .

Before he could make a decision either way, a statement from Joe pierced through his musings.

"Okay, we'll let Adam be the judge then."

Knowing he was about to become the unwilling participant of their discussion, Adam swung around to face his brothers, and in doing so, his gaze caught and focused on a point in the distance over Joe's shoulder. A lone figure sitting along the riverbank some way upstream. It came back to him then, a flashing recollection of Paul declaring his intention to catch a fish after they'd finished eating.

This might just be the very opportunity he'd been waiting for . . .

Vaguely, Adam heard Joe say something else, so he shifted his attention back to his siblings. He found them both watching him expectantly and realized this must be the part where he was supposed to give his opinion on something he hadn't been listening to at all.

He shrugged and went, "I have to go along with Joe on this one."

An expression of sheer triumph fell over Joe's face while Hoss gawked disbelievingly.

"Dadburnit Adam, how kin ya say that? The gal knocked me into a horse trough! Twice!"

"Accidentally," Joe pointed out.

Adam blinked at them. Then he shrugged again. "Everybody makes mistakes."

"I couldn't agree with you more, older brother," Joe said as his teeth gleamed in a very satisfied grin.

He swung a friendly arm up around Hoss' massive shoulders and the big man shifted in discomfort, trying to shrug it off.

"Well," Adam said casually, his eyes wandering back to Madeline. "I think I'll go and see how Paul's doing."

At his announcement, she raised her head. Her whole faced seemed to light up and now there was a depth to her smile that had been missing before. He saw definite encouragement there. She probably wanted nothing more than for him and Paul to get along with each other again. He doubted she had any idea why he wanted to talk to the doctor though. The truth was that he might end up making things even worse between him and Paul by bringing this subject up. But he couldn't wait any longer. That much was obvious after the morning's events. Holding onto that thought, Adam walked around his siblings who were now involved in a more or less playful scuffle and set off towards the river. In the back of his mind, he wondered if this would turn out to be an unwelcome addition to the list of poor decisions he'd already made today.

xXXx