Thank you to those who are still following this and especially to those who have reviewed on my other active story and have mentioned this one (DQFan21 and Gina). I'm sorry I'm so lax about this one but I keep having blocks and then suddenly, I sit down and blitz some Preston episodes and I'm back on track. Please, please, please keep reading and reviewing. I will get to the end eventually!!

January 3rd 1871

Colorado Springs

"I insist you come and stay at the bank."

"You don't own it, remember?"

"Actually I do. I've used the last few days well and reached an agreement with Henry that I can have the building for a deferred consideration."

"Deferred?"

"Well, he is my brother at the end of the day and I do believe James appealed to his sense of decency."

"But you can't possibly have signed anything yet."

"Not yet, but soon. Very soon."

"In that case, I shall return to the boarding house as anticipated."

"But…"

"Preston, aside from the fact that you don't yet own the building, there are only two rooms fit as living quarters and I don't intend to raise the eyebrows of the people in this town any more than they already have been."

It was the third day of the New Year and Michaela had agreed that Rebecca could leave the clinic and return to the boarding house. Over the last week, her condition had improved dramatically. Her colour and energy had come back, as had the sparkle in her eyes, although Michaela had commented that that was most likely due more to her reconciliation with Preston than anything else.

"Then I shall also take up residence in the boarding house." Preston declared.

"Absolutely not! That's almost as bad!"

"It's a boarding house," he argued, "There are other men living there."

"I'm not interested in what other men live there. You will stay in the bank and I will stay in the boarding house until we are married and that is an end to it."

"It was you who suggested this arrangement before I left for Boston!"

"Well now I've changed my mind. I don't trust you," she turned to face him, a wry smile on her face, "Or myself."

"Then how are you to manage?" he demanded, missing the somewhat suggestive meaning of her previous comment.

"I don't need a nanny, Preston."

"I know that you don't need a nanny," he sighed. "Am I ever to change your mind?"

"No," she replied, good-naturedly, stepping into his embrace, spying with pleasure the glint of the diamond ring now happily ensconced back on her finger.

"And is this stubbornness and refusal to listen to me an indication of the course our marriage will take?"

Rebecca leaned back and smiled up at him, "Perhaps."

He bent and kissed her lightly, "Then I shall have to use a firm hand to keep you in check."

Before Rebecca could reply, there was a light knock on the door and Michaela appeared. "I see you're ready to go," she observed as they pulled away from each other.

"Eager to leave," Rebecca said, "no offence intended, Michaela, of course."

"None taken," she replied lightly, "I'm just pleased to see you looking so well again."

"And feeling it too," Rebecca replied, smiling at Preston.

"I wanted to talk to you about your medication," Michaela said.

"I'll leave you two ladies to discuss it," Preston said, lifting his hat from the bed.

"You don't have to," Rebecca said.

"I have to make a start on the bank at some point," he replied.

"I'd prefer it if you stayed." He saw the earnestness in her expression and nodded his acquiescence. "Go on Michaela."

"Well, digitalis is obviously the best medicine you can take for your condition," Michaela explained, "but I'm concerned about the quantity you were taking before this most recent episode. I know that you must have been taking more than I had recommended."

Rebecca lowered her eyes, "Yes, I was."

"You didn't tell me this!" Preston chided her, "How much were you taking?"

"As much as I thought I needed to stop the attacks."

"Far too much, clearly," he said.

"Well it wasn't as if you were here to help me, were you?" she snapped, harsher than she had intended. A flicker crossed his face and she felt immediately cowed, "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean that, truly I didn't." She held out her hand to him and he clasped it in his own.

"You must only take one dosage of digitalis if you have an attack," Michaela continued, "that's vitally important otherwise you may find yourself in the same situation again, or worse." Rebecca nodded her understanding. "I'd also like you try some of this." She held out a small pouch. Rebecca took it from her and poured the contents out onto her hand.

"Leaves?" she said, confused.

"Gumshoe leaves," Michaela explained, "It's a remedy that the Indians use. I spoke with Cloud Dancing about your condition and he said…"

"Indian remedy?" Preston interrupted, his tone contemptuous, "Michaela, I'm sure that Rebecca is grateful for your advice, but this is 1871 and I think we can do a little better than Indian remedies."

"It's proven extremely effective."

"I'm sure it has…on the Indians," he replied, "Rebecca, I know that Michaela is doing her best for you here, but I happen to know a very good doctor in Denver who would be more than happy to…"

"No," Rebecca interrupted.

Preston looked at her, "No?"

"No," she repeated. "I live in Colorado Springs and Michaela is my doctor. I'm not about to start traipsing all over the frontier to speak to this doctor and that doctor about my health."

"Doctor Forrest is eminent in his field and when I wired him to ask…"

"You sent him a telegram about me?"

"I merely thought it would be a good idea to make sure that we had all the right information."

"I didn't ask you to do that, Preston," Rebecca replied angrily, "I'm perfectly happy with the care and attention I've received here and intend to go on receiving here."

"Well, if you'll forgive me, I think you're being a little foolish."

"Foolish?" Rebecca looked at Michaela. "I'm sorry Michaela, but would you mind giving us a moment?"

"Of course not," she replied, "I'll be downstairs if you need me." Silently, she left the room.

"Don't you ever accuse me of being foolish," Rebecca turned to Preston.

"I only meant…"

"I know what you meant," she said, her eyes dark with anger. "Preston, I may have agreed to marry you but that doesn't mean that I'm about to relinquish control of all aspects of my life to you. I have been an independent woman for many years and I intend to continue making my own decisions!"

"About what?" he replied.

"About…about my health and…"

"Traditionally, when a man and woman marry, it is the husband who takes on the role of provider and decision-maker," he interrupted her.

"So, what are you suggesting? That I have to bow to your opinion on everything from the moment we're married?"

"Rebecca, you have to admit that women like yourself and Michaela…"

"Women like myself and Michaela?"

"…do find themselves at the centre of town gossip from time to time. I don't wish to be cruel or patronising my darling but, you have to know, from the moment you arrived back in town people were talking about you and about your taking over the farm and not everyone was complimentary."

"Including yourself I have no doubt."

"Of course not," he replied, "you know how much I admired you for what you were doing. But it is an inevitable part of life that people talk and I don't want people to think of you as some…some hot-headed young woman…"

"You mean that you don't want them to think about your wife that way," she interrupted him. "That's the truth of it, isn't it? You told me that you admired what I was doing and the way I was doing it and then the moment you have me locked in matrimony you want to change me. I thought you loved me for the woman I am, not the woman you wanted me to be?"

"I do," he said, stepping towards her and placing his hands on her arms, "You must believe that I do. But, if this were Boston…"

"But it isn't Boston, Preston, that's the point!" Rebecca shook herself free from him. "You didn't want a woman from Boston! If you had, you could have married Helen whenever you wanted to but you chose not to."

"You're missing the point," he said.

"Am I? Well, obviously my perspective is very different from yours!"

"Obviously!"

They glared at each other for a long moment, each sure in their own minds of being right. Both acutely aware of how quickly the fragile reconciliation had cracked.

After a long moment, Rebecca sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed heavily, "Preston, I don't want to fight with you. I haven't the energy for it. A moment ago we were laughing about my stubbornness and refusal to listen to you."

He sat on the bed beside her, "I don't want to fight either. Not when I've only just won you back." He clasped her hand in his. "There are going to be many things that we are not going to agree on and I suppose we simply have to learn to respect each other's opinion on them."

Rebecca met his gaze, "I'm not a woman to be ruled completely by her husband."

He smiled ruefully, "Forgive me. There are many things I was glad to leave behind in Boston but perhaps I have, unwittingly, brought many of them with me too. You're right. I don't want you to be some pampered, ignorant woman who is only fit to sit in a parlour and be a congenial host. I could have had that with any number of women back home. I do like your fire and your independence." He raised her hand and kissed it. "But I have to confess there is a part of me that simply wants to protect you."

"I know that," she replied softly, "and I welcome it. But I have to be allowed a voice, an opinion."

"I see that," he nodded, "and I promise to do my best to allow you to have it."

"Well," she said, reaching over and kissing him on the cheek, "I suppose that will have to do for now."

February 9th 1871

Boston

"Lodge."

Preston Senior looked up from the newspaper he was reading in his club and saw, partly to his dismay, Albert Draper looking down at him, glass in hand. He looked as though it wasn't his first. "Albert," he greeted him congenially, "Good to see you."

"Hmm." Albert sat down opposite and put his whisky on the table. "Business going well?"

"Yes thank you," Preston Senior replied, slightly curious at the question.

"Good, good," Albert drained his whisky. "And…eh…how's your youngest getting on in that godforsaken backwater?"

"Preston? Fine, as far as I know."

"I understand that he's intending opening his own bank there."

"Indeed," Preston Senior replied mildly, "that would appear to be his plan. I understand he has some rather influential investors behind him."

"And you're happy with that, are you?" Albert peered at him.

"As happy as a father can be under these circumstances, I suppose."

"Has he married that farm girl yet?"

Preston Senior bristled slightly, "Not yet. I understand from James that she's been quite ill."

"Sickly sort," Albert nodded knowingly, "Never a good match. Not like my Helen. Fit as a fiddle she is."

"Yes, I heard that congratulations were in order for Mrs O'Connor," Preston Senior commented.

"Yes, well…" Albert looked away. "Anyway, must go, Lodge. People to see, things to do, you know how it is."

"Well…yes." Preston Senior watched as Albert made his way back towards the door and couldn't help thinking how curious the whole exchange had been.

February 14th 1871

Colorado Springs

"Now you're sure you're not cold?" Preston asked as he climbed into the surrey.

"You've already asked me that about ten times since we left the boarding house," Rebecca replied, "I'm fine."

"And you're feeling well?"

"Preston…"

"I'm sorry," he said, holding up his hand, "I promise I won't ask again." Clicking the reins, he sent the horse moving and they began winding their way from the bank, down towards the meadow and the open land beyond. As they did so, she couldn't help casting a wistful glance in the direction of the road to the farm. It still stood, unsold, slowly giving in to the ravages of neglect again. It was the only rub in her new found happiness.

Pushing those thoughts to one side, Rebecca thought about how glad she was to be getting out of town, if only to spend time alone with Preston. Living in the boarding house meant there was no question of any privacy for them and every time she entered the bank, she couldn't help feeling a thousand pairs of eyes on her back. Out here, in the open air, they could be together with no-one to trouble them.

There had been no repetition of the argument they had had the previous month. Both had appeared to reach a silent understanding of the other. Rebecca accepted that he was a man and that his natural instinct was to protect and shield her. Preston accepted that she was a woman who needed neither.

"I received a telegram from my father today," he divulged after a few moments of companionable silence.

"Really? What did it say?"

"He said he had heard about my investors and that he wished me well in my new venture."

"Is that all?"

"It's better than nothing at all, don't you think?"

"Yes," she agreed. "It might have been nice if he had acknowledged that it was his own actions which led you to have to undertake this new venture."

"Believe me I'm happier running my own bank than I ever was being affiliated with National Trust."

"You haven't started running it yet," she reminded him.

"It's nice to know I have your unending support."

"You do, of course you do," she replied, resting her head briefly against his shoulder. Nothing more was said until they reached the picnic spot whereupon Preston drew the horse to a halt and then came around the surrey to help her down. "It's beautiful here," she commented, gazing around her at the view. "We haven't been out this way before, have we?"

"No," he replied, retrieving the blanket and picnic basket, "but I wanted to bring you out here today so that you could see if you liked it."

"Why wouldn't I like it?"

"It's the view you'll be looking at every day, so you must like it."

She frowned, "I don't understand."

"I purchased this land only yesterday," he declared, "and I'm going to have the finest house these parts have ever seen built on it."

Rebecca was taken aback, "A house? Here?"

"What else?" he replied, "You didn't think we were going to live in the bank, did you?"

"Well I…"

"Of course not," he interrupted her, leaping forward and taking her hand, "Come and sit down." He helped her down onto the blanket, "Now, won't that be a beautiful view from our bedroom."

"But, what about the land where the Kissing Tree was?" she asked, "I thought you had planned to build there."

"It's not large enough for my purposes," he replied, "besides, it appeared to anger so many people in town than I thought it best to leave it be. Here we can have a house to surpass all others."

Rebecca gazed out over the landscape in front of her. It certainly would be a beautiful view. "Preston, we don't need to have a grand house. Not just for the two of us." She said the last sentence carefully.

"Nonsense," he said, "I think it's perfect." She didn't reply and he turned to look at her, "But if you don't like it…"

"No, it's not that I don't like it. I just…" she wasn't sure what she was trying to say. "It's beautiful."

He grinned at her, confident that he had won her round, "I knew you would like it. And it will only be a mile or two from my resort. Our resort," he added hurriedly.

"You've only just started to re-establish the bank," she said, "isn't it a little early to be thinking about the resort too?"

Preston shook his head stubbornly, "Not at all. One must aim high after all."

"Yes, I suppose one must," she murmured.

"I'm sorry," Preston said, sensing her reluctance, "I didn't bring you out here on Valentine's Day to talk about business." He shifted closer to her on the blanket and gently fingered the delicate buttons which began at the nape of her dress and travelled down to just below her chest. "I'm not sure if I told you earlier how beautiful you look today."

"You didn't," she replied.

"How remiss of me," he murmured, his fingers gently sliding up her neck to draw her chin round to face him. "You look exquisite." She laughed gently before their mouths met. After a long moment, he pulled back from her, his breathing shallow, "Perhaps June is too far away," he commented.

Rebecca could feel a pulsation in her abdomen and her nipples peaked and straining against the fabric of her dress. How she longed for his hands to explore her body, to satisfy her in ways she had only ever dreamt about but were now creeping closer. Meeting his gaze, she could see the barely controlled desire in his eyes and knew he would be seeing the same in her own. How simple it would be to give in to it now. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, how was anyone to ever know?

They kissed again, more forcefully, and Preston slowly began to undo the row of buttons. Rebecca made no move to stop him. Three, four, five…they all slipped out easily, the removal of each one revealing another small expanse of flesh until there was enough room for his fingers to slip gently inside and meet the eager, burning flesh therein. As his hand skimmed the swell of her breast, Rebecca shuffled closer to him on the blanket, gasping slightly against his mouth as his fingers gently found the hardness of her right nipple and his thumb grazed agonisingly over it.

"Hey Rebecca! Mr Lodge!" Rebecca and Preston sprang apart as Brian careered out of nowhere and appeared in front of them. "Sorry," he said, "didn't mean to interrupt ya kissin'."

"Hello Brian," Preston coughed while Rebecca discreetly tried to redo the buttons. "What…uh…brings you out this way?"

"Me and Sully were fishing down at the lake when we saw this really rare bird. Sully said he 'ain't seen one before, but it flew off before I could get a good look. So I followed it up here. But I reckon I lost it. Anyway," he grinned, "I best go before Sully thinks I've got lost. See you Rebecca!"

"Bye Brian," she offered weakly as he turned and ran back down the hill and into the trees. He was gone as quickly as he had arrived.

"I swear, the first thing I am going to build is a fence," Preston said. "A big one."

"I believe it just goes to show that when the time comes for us to finally be together," Rebecca said, "the only safe place will be in our bed." She was surprised at how freely the words came out of her mouth.

"Perhaps until then we should refrain from such…free activity," Preston said, a small smile on his face.

"Indeed," Rebecca lifted a glass of wine that was sat next to her and took a long drink in an effort to cool the heat burning within her, "Happy Valentine's Day."