A/N: It's Valentine's Day...what the heck! Enjoy the latest chapter in the story.

Chapter 5 - Let Me Dream That It's True

That Beverly would be the one to finally force him to name those feelings he'd studiously ignored over the past few years was an irony from which he would never quite recover. He swore he could hear Ruthie's soft chuckling every time he turned a corner.

In part due to his nature and in part due to his training as a physician, Seth was a careful man, precise, not opposed to breaking rules when doing so would save a life or otherwise prevent unnecessary harm, but he was also, as he'd overheard one of Jess's many nieces complain, like totally uncool to the max. He lived out those principles he'd been taught as a child, and apart from regular church attendance and the unwavering faith he'd enjoyed until Ruthie's illness, he clung to those teachings as a levy against the rising tides of what he viewed as a prurient, lascivious culture dedicated to the endless promotion of violence and sex.

As a physician, violence was an anathema to Seth. He had devoted his entire adult life to caring for and curing, if possible, the human body. He abhorred the lack of respect so many seemed to pay to the miracle of life. When he thought of Ruthie and her valiant fight to live just one more day, well…best not to dwell on that.

Likewise, he was appalled by the casual attitude that so many young people adopted regarding sex. Jessica might have said his bluster was merely a cover for a broken heart, and he couldn't disagree. He was privately a generous and loving soul, though his outward demeanor was more often crabby than cuddly, and his heart ached for the unfortunate young women and men in his care who broke against the shoals of what seemed to him the mysterious and treacherous waters of modern life.

Seth was more than happy to be considered uncool to the max, a synonym, he was sure, for old fashioned. Sex was not merely a function of human biology; he felt that one of the most important achievements of civilization was a softening of those animal impulses, transmuting them into something that became a sacrament in the marriage contract and therefore a benefit to society at large. He thought most young people were impulsive and careless and hadn't the benefit of their elders or even the pressure of conforming to social mores any longer to curb their rapacious appetites. If they could, they would, he thought grimly, no matter the cost.

He and Ruth had loved deeply and that love was the bedrock of their intimate life. Making love together had been a sacred and joyful experience, a place to return again and again, to lose oneself in the act of becoming a new creation with one's beloved. Without his faith, without his love for Ruthie, sex would have been a hollow, selfish act.

He was deeply shocked that Beverly, in whom he had implicit trust, would engage in such scandalous behavior, and he found it difficult to forgive her even after it became clear that she'd been deluding herself, at least to some degree. Jessica, of course, was able to understand and empathize with all the players in this farce.

"It's not just the sex," she'd said in her forthright way. "It's the companionship." And later, after the shock had worn off, he'd come to see her point. Companionship was perhaps the fundamental essence he craved as a widower. He missed the company of a woman, the feel of her arm pulled through his as they strolled along together, the faint perfume, the shared stories and jokes, turning out the light and spooning into the soft warmth of the woman you loved. He hadn't allowed himself to entertain thoughts like those since Ruthie died. And the fact that he was entertaining them about that tart yet sweet blue-eyed ginger wasn't surprising, but it sure didn't make things any easier. Jessica was his friend; his dearest friend…probably his only friend, at least the only one he saw with any regularity. He would be bereft without her; it would be tantamount to another death.

And what was she to think about all this? He couldn't deny that he found her physically attractive. She was what his grandfather might have called a handsome woman. Seth privately thought her one of the loveliest women of his acquaintance, the more so for her authentic beauty. She looked as good to him in her waders as she did in her simple shirtwaist dresses, the thick cardigans she favored in the fall, or even dressed to the nines at some fancy event or another. But she'd given no indication that she was interested in marrying again. At least, she'd given him no indication. Pictures of her occasionally found their way into the society pages of the larger newspapers, and he tried without success to focus on Jess, without dwelling overmuch on her escorts. At least he'd never seen the same man in a picture more than once.

He hadn't intended to fall in love with her. It crept up on him so gradually that he'd been able to ignore it. But now, thanks to Deputy Martin…and Beverly, it had to be said…he could no longer pretend those feelings didn't exist.

It had been some time since he'd struggled against such urges, but this situation brought them all roaring back. He found himself longing foolishly for Jess, devising ways to stumble into her in town or just stopping by her house a little more frequently. Their hands brushing against one another now gave a deliciously agonizing thrill to their dinners, and he savored those memories in his lonely room.

One morning he awoke from a dream so scandalous that he thought he might never be able to look Jessica in the eye without blushing. He could discipline his conscious mind, but there was little he could do about his subconscious. And plenty his subconscious wanted to do with Jessica.

He was in danger of being found out, and he couldn't let that happen. Not before doing a little detective work of his own.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Seth was speechless.

But he recovered quickly. "You did WHAT?"

"Oh, Seth. For heaven's sake." She continued studying the chess board. "And you heard me the first time," she said coolly as she moved a rook. "Check."

"Forget about chess, woman! What you did was…was…"

She leaned back in her chair with that mulish look he'd come to love. Oh, who was he kidding? He loved all her looks. "Pretending to be a…a…madame?" His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.

"Yes, a madame. You can say the word!" She flapped her hand impatiently. "No one else is here."

"And thank goodness for that, woman! I can't believe, I mean, I just can't believe-"

"Well I had no idea what she did for a living. I'd already introduced myself as Mary Rose; I could hardly back out then." Her face took on that stubborn cast. "Besides, one attempt had already been made on her life, though no one believed it at the time. I couldn't let that go."

"Is there anything you can let go?" Seth asked acidly.

"Long friendships with self-righteous doctors!"

"You're just as righteous as I am, woman. Probably more so!"

Jessica smiled fondly at him, and his heart lurched painfully in his chest. She pointed a finger at him. "You didn't say self righteous."

"I did not." He could feel his face settling into its own mulish expression. "Nevertheless, what you did was dangerous, Jess. I mean, did you ever consider that?"

"I was never in any real danger."

"No real danger?" he blustered. He shook his head slowly. "Around all those men? In a house of…of…of…ill repute?"

She laughed heartily. "Oh, Seth really now. Do be serious."

"I am serious, woman! You're an attractive woman." This was dangerous territory, but in for a penny... "And you're a flirt."

"I beg your pardon!" She drew herself up in marvelous indignation.

"You are and, what's more, you know it!"

"Seth Hazlitt, I'm dangerously close to losing my temper."

"Well so am I, woman! You take too many risks! Always jetting around to someplace or another, investigating things you have no business investigating." He pointed a finger at her for emphasis. "You could get hurt!"

Jessica was poised to continue arguing, but it appeared that Seth's words caught up with her. She let out a noisy breath and reached out to pat his hand. "You're sweet to worry, Seth, but I doubt anything bad will happen to me."

Seth stared into her eyes, now a peaceful, brilliant blue. He took a risk and covered their joined hands with his free one. "Famous last words," he muttered.

"Speaking of last words."

"What do you mean?"

"Your tendency to have to have them," she said drily. "Have you resigned then?" she asked pertly, jerking her chin toward the chess board while withdrawing her hand from his.

He'd forgotten all about their suspended chess match. "Never!"

She laughed. "I think I've got you this time."

You've got me for all time, Jess. He shook his head. Foolishness. "We'll see." He studied the board, then said softly. "I just worry. That's all."

"No need," she said bracingly. "I've learned to take care of myself."

"A-yuh. I know you have." But I'm still going to worry.

Jess smiled, clearly pleased with his answer. "Alright then, come along, Dr. Hazlitt! Let's see if you can get yourself out of this corner."

"A-yuh," he grunted. "Checkmate."

"What? I don't believe it!"

"Staring you right in the face, woman."

She studied the board, then groaned. "I don't believe it." She looked up at him, a smile threatening. "I blame you for distracting me."

"A good chess player never allows herself to be distracted."

"I am a good chess player!"

"Alright, a great one."

She laughed, and Seth's heart jumped in his chest. You're a fool, Seth Hazlitt. Tell her right now how you feel. Jess wiped tears of laughter from her eye. "See you tomorrow morning?"

"Tomorrow morning?" He'd lost the thread of their conversation.

"It is your habit to stop by in the mornings, isn't it?"

"Habit, yes." He shook himself mentally. "Well, maybe I'll mix things up a bit! Got to keep you on your toes, Madame Detective."

Jess groaned. "I'm not going to dignify that with a response. Thanks for a lovely dinner, Seth. I won't thank you for the chess game."

"Match, woman. Match!" But he suspected she just enjoyed winding him up. He walked to the kitchen and took his cap and jacket from the chair. "Thanks for another pleasant evening, Jess. I'll see you tomorrow." He opened the door and walked through before turning to her. "Or maybe I won't!" He put his cap on and turned smartly while shutting the door. He could hear Jess' merry laughter as he walked to his car. Well, maybe I won't, he thought even as he knew he couldn't let a day go by without seeing her when she was home. You're a damned fool, Seth Hazlitt. "And don't you start, Ruthie!"

A/N: Chapter 6 will be posted on Sunday!