A/N: I knew I was going to play with A Matter of Circumstance from the beginning and it may not turn out exactly the way you thought or hoped, but we are by no means finished with the story. Everything will come to a head in Never Say Die. Thoughts? Suggestions? Criticism?

As always, I own nothing but my OC.

"Happy birthday to my two youngest children." Ben raised his glass of champagne in a toast. He clinked his glass against theirs and took a drink. Annie sipped at hers, but she'd never acquired a taste for the stuff, and was only too happy to return it to the table and pick up her fork. "Twenty-eight," he mused. "Time sure flies."

"Doesn't it, though?" Joe emptied his glass and made a face. "Seems like yesterday we were tearing around on those shaggy little ponies you bought us."

"You two still tear around like Comancheros. There are times I think you delight in giving me grey hairs."

"Not on purpose, Pa," Joe protested. Annie wrinkled her napkin and glanced around the hotel dining room. When he'd said he had a surprise in mind, she hadn't expected it to be a week in San Francisco, especially with a drive coming up. She could do without the dressing up that was required, but she would, if only to please their pa. They'd been so busy the last few years, there hadn't really been time to make a big fuss out of things like birthdays, and if she was being honest, she much preferred it that way.

No neighbors gathered around, the sight of her friends with husbands and children subtly reminding her that she was long past the usual marrying age with no prospects, even with her formidable last name and concentration of wealth. The champagne's aftertaste turned bitter in her mouth and she reached for her water, wishing it could wash away more than that.

"Annie!" A shaft of agony lanced through her chest and she gasped, the crystal goblet slipping through her fingers and shattering when it hit the floor.

"Anne?"

"Annie, what's wrong?" The whole room turned to stare. A Chinese waiter rushed over, babbling something only Hop Sing could decipher, and began to clean up the mess. "Annie!" Joe grabbed her arm and she shook him off, looking around the room with wild eyes that couldn't find what she sought.

Everything spun; dread, pain, terror, and hopelessness weaving themselves into a knot that coiled itself in the pit of her stomach like a rattler poised to strike. She gasped for air that didn't come and stood so fast her chair scraped across the polished floor and turned over with a crash.

"Annie!" Her pa shouldered Joe aside and grabbed her arms, forcing her to meet his worried eyes. "What's wrong? You have to tell me, what's the matter?"

She couldn't even begin to guess, having only felt like this when Joe … she drew in a sharp breath and dug at the knot of roiling emotions, desperately seeking clues. The what was danger, the exact nature unnecessary at this point. No, she needed to know who.

"Annie!" He shook her, jolting her out of the search, but only momentarily.

"Wait a minute!" She yanked free and leaned against the edge of the table, wrinkling the fancy linen cloth, working back through the sensation of knowing to the precise instant it had slammed into her with all the force and subtlety of a charging grizzly. Joe was here, perfectly fine, not a hair out of place. And it had never been this strong before. How could she sense someone better than her twin? It was impossible.

But the panic was still swirling in her gut like a winter storm that refused to let up. She dug deeper, picking at the faint threads of a cry born of desperation."Annie!"

She drew in a sharp breath and spun, meeting two sets of terrified eyes. The how or the why wasn't important now, the only thing that mattered anymore was that she knew.

"Mr. Cartwright, is everything all right? Can I be of assistance somehow?" The hotel manager rushed over and Ben shooed him away.

"Yes, yes, we're fine. I'm sorry about the mess, we just, uh, have a small issue of some sort to clear up, if you wouldn't mind finding us a private room or something, please?"

"Of course." The man eyed her like she'd lost her mind, and maybe she had. He escorted them out of the dining room and opened the door to a deserted ball room. She didn't even wait for the door to close behind them before the words dropped out in a tone that sounded somewhere between despair and death.

"It's Candy. He's hurt bad."

"I sent a wire to Roy, he'll have a deputy ride out and check the house." Ben closed the door to the hotel room behind him and paced across the soft carpet. "If they're out on the range already, someone will bring him to town."

"If they can," she said hoarsely. If he wasn't too bad off to move, and if they could even find him. She was packing mechanically, not even looking at what she was doing, merely throwing whatever she touched into the trunks, her heart pounding.

"Annie." Her pa came over and pulled her into his embrace. "It's not like he hasn't been hurt before, you all have at one time or another." His throat worked, and she knew he was remembering the bullet she'd taken for Erin.

"But we had help, Pa. He's … I feel like he's alone."

"But you don't know where?"

"No. It's too muddled, I can't … I can't figure out much of anything. It's just … faint impressions." Maybe where he was a loner by nature? Though it certainly hadn't been faint when it first happened. She rubbed her forehead and sat down hard on the bed. Not understanding how the "connection" worked in the first place didn't help. Being able to sense her twin was somewhat easy to figure out, but Candy? Not only how, but why?

"I was able to change our tickets to the seven o clock train tomorrow morning, but it'll still be the day after tomorrow before we get home."

"There's not one sooner?" Silent until now, Joe hopped off the trunk he'd been sitting on, working his hat into a shapeless lump of felt. He tossed it aside and ran a hand through his hair. "What if he's not at the house? What if he was on his way to the herd and he's out there alone?"

"Joe, there's nothing we can do from here. If Roy wires back before we leave, I told the clerk to send the messenger on up no matter the time. If it comes after the train leaves, he's to send it back and have them transmit it on down the line, it should catch us somewhere."

"Roy probably thinks we're overreacting," Joe said in a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. Ben shook his head.

"No, he knows Annie as well as we do. He'll take it seriously."

"But will his deputy?" she asked in a small voice. If it was Clem, she had no reason to worry, but there was no guarantee Clem would be the one he sent. Ben came over and crouched in the floor beside the bed, his hands framing her face.

"We have no control over the deputy, but we all know Roy isn't going to send a man out there without impressing upon him how very serious the matter is. Whether he listens or not –"

"Pa, I'm afraid."

"I know." He didn't have to say that he was, too. It was in his eyes, framed in the lines on his face, trapped in the tone of his voice. A sideways glance at Joe revealed the same thing. They were afraid because she was. "Come on, let's get the rest of this mess packed, and then go to the theater as planned."

"But –"

"I know you don't want to, but there is nothing else we can do right now. The clerk will send any messages that come for us straight down to the theater." Surely one would come. Maybe she was wrong, it had happened before, not often, but it had. They finished packing, then she collected her handbag with shaking fingers and followed them out the door.

But when it finally arrived halfway through the second act, the message wasn't really a message at all. She took it in trembling hands and stared at it, turned it over, as though there might be something on the back, but there wasn't. "No one's there?" Hop Sing was visiting a sick cousin in Sacramento and Hoss and Erin were out with the drovers getting ready for the drive, but where was Candy? Her mind conjured up an image of him injured and alone somewhere on a six hundred thousand acre ranch and her stomach turned over. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and handed the telegram back without another word.

"He must be on the range." Ben dug into his vest and handed the messenger a double eagle. "Send a reply, ask Roy if Hoss or Erin has come to town, see if they know anything. Keep the change." The boy took the coin, eyes wide in shocked delight, and scurried away. Joe giggled.

"You made his day, Pa."

"Glad somebody's happy,"

"Annie?" Joe's low whisper jolted her out of her panicked thoughts. She turned, found him watching her stare out the station window at the empty tracks out on the platform. Their pa was nowhere in sight, off checking with the ticket agent for messages for the third time in the past ten minutes.

"What?"

"I don't believe you."

"About what?"

"It started at Stillwater. You knew something was off when we were still on the trail. I didn't think much of it, your instincts have always been better than mine, but there have been other times since then. And now this."

"What are you getting at?" She choked out. But she knew what he was about to say, though she dreaded hearing it put into words.

"You love him."

"I can't."

"You do." His face softened. "I don't know how long, but you love him." Her chest tightened until it hurt to breathe.

"Now isn't the time for this."

"When is?"

"Drop it, Joe." Her hands clenched on the window frame and she rested her forehead against the glass. "Candy's the only real friend I've ever had, I can't lose that."

"Why would you lose –"

"Everything all right?" Ben returned, looking between them.

"Any messages?" Annie said before Joe could open his mouth. She wasn't about to answer that question. Ben shook his head.

"They haven't been to town. I told Roy to keep me posted if anything changes, he'll send any messages to every station along the line." He checked his pocket watch. "Train should be here anytime now." It better be. She stared down the long expanse of track, air searing her lungs.

That knot of emotions was still coiled in the pit of her stomach, lurking, lying in wait to send another kick of fear into her gut. And that was what really scared her. Candy never seemed to acknowledge that particular emotion, she'd only seen it once or twice in the past three years, and never about himself, but right now, that was all she could feel pulsing down that faint connection. It wasn't anything like the initial strike, but it was still there.

A whistle blasted in the distance, and the ground rumbled under her feet. For a split second, her mind flew back to Angelus, then she shook it off and snatched up her closest bags. Black smoke shot into the sky as the train chugged into the station, steam hissing and brakes squealing.

She paced the aisle while passengers boarded and porters loaded the stacks of luggage into the baggage car. The whistle blasted and Annie took her seat on the hard bench, fingers clutched around her wrinkled handkerchief. The whistle shrieked again and the cars jolted as the engine rumbled out of the station, the great iron wheels clacking a cadence that throbbed in time with her heart beat.

Hurry, hurry, hurry.

All day long, the trail rolled eastward towards Carson City, the closest rail head to home. But there were so many stops. Every time the conductor called out another name of a city she didn't know or care about, she thought she might shoot something, just blow a hole in the side of the car, or knock a piece off someone's sign out front of a store.

She'd had far too much time left to her own devices to prod at the faint thread of connection, digging to figure out how it had appeared, and why he'd called for her in the first place. She could hear the scream ringing in her ears, even with almost two hundred miles separating them.

What had happened out there on the range that would make him sound like that? He'd never acknowledged pain any more than he had fear. How bad would it have to be to break his will? By his very nature, he'd always been quiet, always held himself a little apart from everyone else, no matter where he was or what was going on. But, slowly, over the past three years, he'd begun to change, to let others in to see his true self, that he was more than some restless drifter wandering from town to town without claim to any.

Was it a cat or a bear? No, couldn't be, either one would have already killed him, and she would feel nothing. Unless he managed to escape the initial attack and he was holed up somewhere, praying help would come before the animal found him again. He'd never fear some random gunman, not for himself. He'd fight as hard as he could and if it wasn't enough, so be it.

Had his horse spooked and thrown him? There'd certainly been cause for it since he'd gotten the animal, but she hadn't noticed the Honeycomb gelding to be especially nervous or spooky. Quite the opposite, in fact. Unless he encountered a six and half foot rabbit …

But if his horse had thrown him, why wasn't it hanging around the Ponderosa barn? The deputy would have noticed a riderless horse when he went out. Annie wrung her hands and picked at her fingernails in restless angst as she stared out the window.

Her nails were completely shredded before they'd gone fifty miles.

"Anything else?" Ben fixed her with knowing eyes, almost like he knew the answer, but wanted confirmation. Annie folded her hands in her lap, hiding her ragged nails, and swallowed hard. She shook her head slowly and resumed staring out the window, though there was nothing to see, nor had there been for several hours now. Only the bright glow of the engine's head lamp speared into the darkness up ahead.

Her left arm was aching a little, so she shifted position, moving so it wasn't jammed against the side of the car. She glanced up at Joe and found him sprawled in the seat in front of them, hat covering his face while he snored softly. How he could sleep right now, she'd never understand.

"Candy's resourceful, always has been. He knows we'll come for him."

"How, Pa?" she hissed under her breath, hoping not to wake any of the sleeping passengers nearby. "How's he to know that anyone even realizes he's in trouble?"

"You know."

"But does Candy know that? I still don't understand how Joe and I can … read each other's minds … for lack of a better explanation. I don't know that he even realized that he did … whatever it was he did." She drew in a shaky breath. "I'm afraid because he's afraid." She took a moment to study the reaction as that sank in. Ben drew in a breath and fisted his hand on his leg.

"Of what?"

"I don't know." He stared out the window into the blackness, his mouth firming into a thin line.

"We'll be home in a matter of hours. I wired Roy at the last stop, told him to meet us at Carson City with the horses and Doc Martin, and we'll ride out from there." He sighed. "It would help if we had an idea on where to start searching."

"I don't know."

"Maybe I should have had Roy send a deputy out to get Hoss and Erin, have them start looking." He ran a hand through his hair. "But any man he sends after them is one that isn't looking for Candy." She couldn't ask if he thought they'd find Candy in time, she just couldn't allow herself to even think it was possible.

Annie searched her heart for that thread of connection, found it intact, though faint, and breathed a sigh of relief. Did he even know? But how could he? Why should he even think he'd managed to … it sounded silly just turning it over in her head. How could someone know when something was wrong, especially when they were miles away from the one in trouble?

True, she and Joe could do it, but they were twins, and she had read some fascinating stories about other twins that could do the same thing, or similar. At least she hadn't wound up with injuries to match after he'd pulled some foolish stunt when they were younger.

But how could she have that connection to Candy? They might be best friends, but they'd only known each other for three years. How could that be enough time for a connection to grow strong enough for this to happen? A lump clogged her throat and she swallowed hard, glancing up at the back of Joe's head, barely visible over the seat.

She knew how, she just didn't want to give it voice.

"Ben, I brung the horses like you said, and Doc's waiting with 'em outside." Roy met them as they jumped down from the train.

"Good." Ben grabbed a passing porter. "All the bags marked Cartwright, just leave inside the station, I'll send a man for them later." He passed the man a double eagle and rushed through the station and out to the street.

Doc Martin pushed off the hitch rail and swung into his saddle. Annie snatched up the reins to her beautiful blue roan, her throat unbearably tight at the tangible reminder of how good a friend Candy really was. She couldn't lose a friend like that, not even for the chance at something more. If she dared say what she suspected to be true, he'd ride out, or else pretend for her sake, until he couldn't pretend anymore, making the inevitable loss cut even deeper.

He'd never had a real home, and she couldn't take this one from him, not for anything. She'd had all day and all of last night to think about it again, and that was all she could live with; nothing had changed. He might only be her best friend, but at least she'd have that much. And he would still have the Ponderosa, and them. It would have to be enough.

They set off in a loose pack, scanning the horizon for any sign of something out of place. But there was no chestnut standing riderless next to a crumpled form. No foreman limping towards them out of the vast range land.

Ben finally called a brief halt about half an hour after they'd set out. "Anything?" He didn't turn, but she knew he was asking her.

"I don't know." She looked around, hoping the answer would be somewhere out in the waving grass. The breeze tugged at her hair and she brushed loose strands out of her face. Where was he? If he was somewhere out there … but if he wasn't …. She closed her eyes, fought to rekindle the memory of the moment that wall of emotions had slammed into her. That single cry was all she'd been able to pry out, but … maybe … She couldn't see anything, or even feel it beyond the tiny flickers that broke through every now and then. He couldn't know what he'd done, or he'd be trying his best to help them find him.

Afterwards, she could never say what drew her to the house, only that it did. She turned the roan and picked up a lope that fast became a dead run, the rest of them thundering along in her wake. "Annie," Roy called up over the pounding hooves, "I told you there ain't nobody there."

"She thinks otherwise," Joe shouted back. After that, there was silence save snorted breaths and pounding hooves.

She led them into the yard, jumping off the roan before he'd fully stopped, and ran for the barn. "Candy?" She stood in the center of the room, but not one horse waited inside to nicker a greeting, not even the Honeycomb gelding. Where was he? Had she led them wrong after all? Was he out on the range?

Annie turned and ran out, meeting the others just now pulling up in the yard. Ben looked at her as he dismounted, a frown lining his forehead. She shook her head wordlessly and turned a full circle. A nicker announced the Honeycomb gelding as he trotted out from behind the barn and stopped next to the roan, sniffing noses, a rope trailing from his halter.

None of them could take their eyes off the animal, living proof that Candy couldn't be out on the range, that whatever deputy had been sent to check had missed something. Joe hopped down from Cochise and picked up the rope, then stilled. "Pa? Is that …?" He touched the animal's left shoulder and rubbed his fingers together, his gaze swinging around to her face.

Ben pushed through the group and checked the horse. "Dried blood." Doc Martin joined him, face going dark. Her heart skipped a beat, slamming painfully against her ribs until she thought they'd crack. No …

"Ben, I promise you this animal wasn't here when my deputy came out." Roy slapped his hat angrily against his leg. "Dadburnit, I should have rode out myself."

"It's not your fault, Roy."

Annie bolted for the house, hit the door at full speed and flung it open hard enough to rebound off the wall with a crash. "Candy!" The main room looked fine, not a chair or lamp out of place. But his gun belt rested on the old sideboard. "Candy?" She turned, found one of the chairs at the dining table overturned. "Candy?" She righted it, noticed the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table. The acrid bite of scorched food hung in the air. She rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead, the only real scream she'd ever voiced tearing up her throat and ripping through the calm afternoon.

By the time they reached her, she was in the floor, Candy's head cradled in her lap. Heat seared her skin and her eyes burned. Two days. He'd been like this, alone, for two days. The sight of his splinted leg brought tears stinging to her lashes. And his arm. Dear God, his arm. Swollen and discolored, she didn't even want to think about what had happened to make it look like that.

"Annie, move over," Ben ordered in that gruff tone that betrayed his concern. He touched Candy's shoulder, but their foreman didn't respond past a weak moan. "Candy, can you hear me?" His breathing was ragged and labored, face flushed with the fever that scorched her legs.

"Candy," she choked, and he flinched, but made no sound. Then, Doc Martin was hovering over them, his eyes filled with dread.

"Get him upstairs, Ben, right now. Roy, put some water on to boil. Joe can help you when he finishes taking care of the horses." He whipped around, his bag smacking against the work table, the sound making Candy flinch again.

"Easy, Candy, easy. You're safe now," her pa soothed, but it didn't seem to help. Somehow, he scooped Candy up unaided and carried him upstairs as easily as a calf. Annie scrambled after them and darted ahead to open his door. Ben laid him on the bed and she swallowed hard when that mangled arm passed her line of sight.

Doc Martin dropped his bag in the floor and reached for his arm. Candy yelped and pulled away, his now open eyes glassy with fever and pain. "Leave me alone," he rasped, air hissing through his teeth. "Please … nothing … nothing you …." His chest heaved. "Gangrene," he choked out on a moan. Then he was lost in the fever again. Her father and Doc Martin exchanged looks, and her stomach heaved.

"He has to be wrong," she pleaded, gaze fixed on Doc Martin's face. The man shook his head slowly.

"From what I can see, he's right."

"No!" Her stomach turned over. Please, God, no …

"It's not as bad as he thinks, though. Another couple of days and I wouldn't have much choice, but I think we can avoid amputation, provided I can drain the wound and remove all the infected tissue." Her stomach heaved again and she sat down hard on the bed. Candy moaned and she reached for his good hand and squeezed gently. "Ben, I'll need you to bring a few things up, if you can. And I want Annie to stay. If the ether can't keep him under, she's the only one who stands a chance of calming him down."

"All right, Paul. What do you need?"

"Well …" They drifted away, talking in low tones, and she brushed damp hair off Candy's face. He moaned again, his head rolling on the pillow.

"Annie …" His chest heaved. "Please … please …"

"I'm here," she whispered, brushing a hand over his face. "Shh." His eyes fluttered open and he stared at her like he'd never seen her before.

"A-annie …" He started to raise his left arm and yelped, squeezing his eyes shut, veins in his neck standing out. "Oh, God, it hurts." His grip on her hand tightened.

"Shh. You're safe now, Doc Martin said it's not that bad, he doesn't have to amputate." She wasn't sure he could understand everything right now, but just in case he could, she wanted to make sure he knew they weren't trying to drug him to cut off his arm.

"Wh-what?" She repeated what she'd said. "The book said you had to," he slurred, another moan slipping through his teeth. "It burns. Feels like it'll explode. M-make it f-fast, please," he begged, his voice breaking, and her throat closed.

"Oh, Candy, calm down, now. Calm down." Doc Martin returned and laid a soothing hand on their foreman's shoulder. "I know it hurts, son. But it won't for much longer, I promise." He dug around in his bag and pulled out a cloth and a bottle of ether, tipping a few drops onto the fabric. "Breathe normally, son, then you can sleep while I clean this up." Candy tried to pull away, but he didn't seem to have the strength. "Shh, son. It's all right, I promise." A few ragged breaths later, his eyes lost focus. A few more, and they slid shut. "Anne, keep an eye on him, if he starts to come around, put that cloth back over his face. This isn't going to be quick, much less painless. If it gets to the point the ether can't stop it –"

"What do you mean?" Her heart was beating so fast her head was spinning. " Why couldn't it keep him under?"

"Sometimes, a man will fight with everything he has in him, even when it's not in his best interests to do so. And other times, the pain is simply too great for the ether to have much effect. In either case, he'll need to be kept calm. If my hand should slip, or he moves, he could end up losing the use of his arm." Blood roared in her ears.

"What?" Doc Martin laid a hand on her shoulder and their eyes met.

"I have to cut away the infected tissue. If he struggles, the blade could just as easily slice through muscle, tendon, or nerves that won't heal easily, if at all. You're his best friend, if anyone in this world can convince him of the need to remain still, it's you."

"But –"

"Now, I'm hoping it won't come to that, and it probably won't. But in case it does, you need to be prepared."

"Just hurry, please."

"I will, Annie." He squeezed her shoulder, then turned his attention to Candy's arm, examining it carefully. "Dear Lord, what did he do to himself this time?" She swallowed hard. The doctor situated clean towels under his arm, and an empty pot in the floor. She took a closer look at it and realized Hop Sing was going to be very angry at someone after this.

You didn't just take his favorite soup pot to be used for an operation that would render it useless for cooking without grave consequences. The urge to laugh hit her out of nowhere and she hiccuped. How could she find that funny at a time like this?

"Watch him, Anne." She looked to Candy's face, thankfully missing the moment when Doc Martin sliced into his arm, but not the jerk of his body, or the muscles twitching in his face, the fluttering of his eyelids that betrayed he'd felt that more than he should have. She wanted to say something, but all she could do was hold his good hand and pray he didn't wake up in the middle of this.

She knew him, perhaps better than any of them, and there was no way that even she could control him if the pain took over. He'd never hurt her, especially intentionally, but pain could twist a man into something he wasn't, and might not even realize what he was doing until it was done.

A few times, he shifted in the bed, as though trying to escape the pain, but it wasn't for long. Candy was too weak to put up much of a fight after two days of struggle on his own, wracked with agony and rendered delirious by fever.

Even now, did he realize he was safe? Had he understood help was here and he wasn't alone? Or had he presumed it was the fever?

She could thank his weakness for one thing, though. She hadn't missed what lay on the work table in the center of the room, a work table he'd clearly been aiming for before the fever overwhelmed him. Combine that with his mumbled ramblings about amputation, and she knew what he'd been planning. Had he succeeded, in all likelihood, they would have found him dead from either shock or blood loss.

A shudder ran down her spine. Thank God he hadn't managed it. Annie had no doubts she would have known if he'd tried, would have felt the shocking agony, the rapid dimming of awareness, before that thin thread of connection went dark forever.

"How is he?" Doc's clipped tone jolted her out of her panicked musings, and she looked to Candy's face, her fingers closing tighter over his wrist to check his pulse. It was fast, and the muscles in his face and neck were strained, but he didn't seem like he was waking up.

"I think he's all right." She swallowed hard. "How much longer?"

"An hour or so, maybe more. He'll have quite the scar, I'm sure." Her heart fluttered in her chest and it hurt to swallow.

"But he'll live? We were in time?" Doc Martin looked up, his face carefully composed.

"I believe so. Barring complications, of course." A moan drifted up from the bed and her heart leaped into her throat. Candy flinched, his chest heaving. His good leg twitched, and his eyelids fluttered. "Annie –"

But he didn't have to finish. She pressed the cloth over Candy's face and he soon lay still again, his ragged breaths the only indication he was even alive.

"It's done." Doc Martin straightened, rubbing his back. "I hope he'll sleep for the rest of the night, I doubt he got much rest before we found him, and that's the best thing for him right now." He adjusted the pillow under Candy's bandaged arm, and rounded the bed. He squeezed her shoulder and offered her a smile. "He'll be fine, he's young and strong, and he has all of you."

"Are you sure?" Annie whispered, her voice thick.

"As sure as I can be. I'll go down and tell Ben and Joe. I think he was sending Roy out to find Hoss and Erin, let them know what's happened." The door closed behind him and she sat there in silence, watching her best friend sleep, his face lined with pain. Or was it fear? Both? She drew in a shaky breath and rested her forehead on the heel of her hand, her other hand still clinging to his lifeless one.

What was she going to do now? Joe was right, there was no use denying it any longer. She'd known it herself since that kiss, if not before.

But, nothing had changed.

Candy was still a loner, a drifter who would leave before he hurt her, even unintentionally. They'd found him in time, but … once he understood what he'd managed to do, he'd question how. And why. And she couldn't have that.

He'd never given the slightest indication that she was anything more than a friend. His best friend, perhaps, but that was all. If she told him the truth, he would feel duty bound to not hurt her, even if that meant he had to give up the home he'd finally found.

She couldn't stand it if he rode away, never looking back, never to return, no different than Adam. The loss of her oldest brother had been bad enough, but if it was Candy? Annie knew she couldn't take that, the never knowing where he was or even if he was still alive.

But he'd never stay if he knew, and he didn't return her feelings. He couldn't know that leaving would hurt her far worse than staying, for then she'd at least still have … what? A shell of a man instead of her best friend? Someone so careful of what they said, things were never the same as they had been before? He might even go along with it, pretend for her sake, until he couldn't keep up the charade any longer, and moved on, hurting her even worse than simply leaving would have done.

How could she have fallen in love with her best friend? How could she be so selfish and ask for more? Wasn't his friendship enough? Why reach higher, and risk destroying them both?

The haunting memory of a desperate kiss seared her cheek, and she brought her hand up to her face. He'd only done it to shock her, to give him time to drive Reno into a gallop so she could escape and bring help for them all.

Blue was a gift, potentially born as much from guilt as friendship. He'd blamed himself for the loss of Reno, though she never had. The grulla had been old, not so old she'd expected him to play out as he had, but even a young horse could buckle under strain. It had just been one of those things that happened. It had been her decision to ask him for everything he had, no one else's.

"Maybe you've already met him." Her chest tightened until it hurt to breathe. How could fate be so cruel? The one man who didn't seem to care what she could bring him materially, and he didn't love her, not like that. Her eyes stung and she wiped her face before the tears could fall.

He couldn't ever know. She'd have to figure out some plausible fib that would explain how they'd known he was in trouble, and pray Joe or her father didn't say the wrong thing. Even if Candy didn't love her, she'd have her best friend. It was enough. It would have to be.

So why was her heart breaking again?

It was after breakfast the next morning that he woke up, blinking slowly, obviously confused, as the room around him came into focus. Annie held her breath as his eyes cleared. He took in the ring of faces around his bed and frowned, looking from one to the next.

"Wha-what's going on?" He tried to sit up and froze, breath caught in his throat. He fell back to the bed with a moan and clutched at his arm, frantically feeling the bandages.

"Candy, it's all right." Ben caught his wrist before he could do himself any more damage. "Your arm is still there, Doc was able to save it." He brushed the hair out of Candy's face and smiled gently. "That was an old book you got a hold of." The smile faded. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Silly mare …" A humorless laugh scraped its way up his throat. "Scared of a door and some thunder." His head rolled sideways on the pillow. "Wasn't her fault." His eyes closed, then suddenly flew open. "Wait, what day is it?"

"Thursday," Joe said from his perch at the foot of the bed, arms folded. Candy frowned.

"But … you weren't due back from San Francisco until Tuesday." He tried to sit up, only to have Ben push him back down. "How did …" Two sets of eyes drifted to her, prompting Candy's to follow. She didn't know what to say, but she absolutely couldn't let Joe do it, and she had no doubts he would if she couldn't find the words soon.

"I knew something was wrong," she said slowly, well aware it explained nothing. "So we came back. And it's good we did, Doc Martin said another couple days and he'd have had no choice." She looked away, finding it hard to swallow. She could have lost him without ever admitting her true feelings, not that they mattered when he didn't feel the same.

"How?"

"I don't know." She picked at her ragged nails, not wanting to think about that wave of terror and pain ever again. "I just knew."

"The look on her face when she dropped that goblet …" Joe shook his head slowly. "I've never seen her look like that before, not even when one of us was hurt."

She could feel Candy's eyes on her, but she couldn't look at him, not until she got her emotions under control, lest he guess the truth. Never before had she needed her cool head as much as she did now. She drew in a deep breath and looked up.

"I guess it's to be expected. As much trouble as we've dragged you out of the past few years, why wouldn't I develop some kind of instinct for it?" It was a poor excuse, one you could fling a mule through if you poked at it enough, but she was hoping he was still out of it, and wouldn't think to question her. "You're just like Joe, after all." Her chest hurt, and her heart slammed painfully against her ribs, but it had to be this way.

Deny it, please, her heart cried out against her will. His brow furrowed and he reached for her hand, but his eyes were carefully blank, almost like the night they'd first met. A tiny little crack split her heart.

"So," he said slowly. "I guess you've got a fourth brother after all, sweetheart." At his words, so careful, so calmly uttered, her heart shattered, that tiny little spark of hope doused forever. She broke eye contact, stared at their linked hands, wishing for so much more than she could ever have, and swallowed hard.

If a brother was all he wanted to be, it would have to be enough. Even if it promised to kill her a little more every day she had to look at him and know he was not hers to love, and never would be. How could she handle it when he eventually brought home the woman he did love, and she had to watch that blossom in front of her eyes?

God help her, she'd have to handle it, have to make it enough that he was her best friend, have to let him go because she loved him, and wanted him to be happy, even if it wasn't her that made him so.

"I guess so." She forced a smile, begging the tears to stay locked away.

"I'm sorry your trip was cut short," he mumbled, seeming to be already half asleep again. "I ruined your birthday." Joe gave a soft snort.

"Oh, Annie'd do just about anything to avoid wearing a fancy dress and now she's got you helping her. Pa, what are we going to do?"

"I suppose we'll just have to have a party here." Ben rubbed the back of his neck, looking between her and his foreman. His eyes said he knew what she'd never say and it was hurting him, too. "Annie, why don't you go get something to eat? You need to rest, too."

Five minutes ago, she would have argued, begged to stay, but she couldn't. Not now. Without a word, she stood and left the room, drifting downstairs in a daze. She fled the house and threw a bridle on Blue, then jumped on bareback, urging the stallion out the door into a lope that swiftly carried them from the yard.

It was only out here, alone on the range she loved, that the tears could fall. Soon, she was crying so hard she couldn't see to guide Blue and they halted somewhere on the vast prairie, Annie doubled over his neck, sobbing for the last, desperate spark of hope she hadn't even realized existed until it had been extinguished.

"Annie!"

A tiny piece of her heart had insisted he must love her, why else would he call for her in that moment? But he didn't, and there was nothing to be done about it, unless she wanted to force a choice that could only destroy them. He'd needed his best friend, needed someone who he knew would come for him, if they could only know he was in trouble, that's all it had been.

She'd insisted for so long that there was nothing more than friendship between them, and now, when she didn't want it to be so, it was.

Her tears soaked into Blue's silky mane, splashing onto his neck, and the stallion dipped his head, sniffing at the grass. She cried harder, knowing she had to empty the well before she returned to the house, and once there, never allow them to surface again.

"Candy … oh, Candy." A sob wrenched its way free. "I love you."