Thank you to everyone who is continuing to read and review. Your support and encouragement is much appreciated. Here's the next thrilling installment. Any dialogue from the episode When A Child Is Born is not mine and is the property of those who wrote that wonderful episode. I've added a few things in to my version which lend themselves to this story. I hope you'll continue to enjoy it :)

May 17th 1871

Colorado Springs

The following morning, Preston took it upon himself to go to the store and tell Loren that Rebecca would no longer be working there. Having barely slept the night before through a mixture of worrying about the ceremony and worrying about Rebecca, he was at the door of the store as Loren was preparing to open up.

"What's the rush?" the older man asked grumpily. "Is there a shortage or something?"

"I'm not here to buy anything, Loren," Preston said, "I'm here on Rebecca's behalf."

"What for? I already gave her the day off to attend your ceremony."

"Rebecca won't be back," he said, "she's quitting. Effective immediately."

Loren looked at him, "What? Why?"

"Because you are working her too hard, Loren," Preston said firmly, "Do you know she collapsed yesterday after dinner?"

"What?" Loren's face drained of colour, "Is she all right?"

"She was fine after I had to take her to the clinic. That new doctor took a look at her and told her she was fatigued. Rebecca already has a weak heart, Loren, and I won't have her running the risk of collapsing after a day's work. She would have been quitting anyway once we were married so it's of little consequence."

"Well… tell her I'm real sorry," Loren said, "and I'll pay her to the end of the month."

"That's very generous of you, Loren. I'll make sure she knows." Touching his hat, Preston turned and left the store.

XXXX

Rebecca awoke that morning with a pounding headache a fact which, had she known it at that point, would be a precursor for the entire day. Struggling out of bed, she moved to her wash basin and washed herself before lying back down on the bed with a cloth to her head, hoping that it would ease the pain. As she did so, she found herself thinking back to the previous evening and what had happened. She hoped fervently that her fainting spell had been just that, a reaction to working too hard in the heat. Having been free of her attacks for so long, she was terrified at the prospect of them returning.

Suddenly, there was a knock at her door.

"Come in," she said, straightening up and pulling her dressing gown around her.

Mrs Brimble appeared, "Good morning Rebecca. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes thank you," she lied.

"I have your young gentleman here and he's quite eager to see you," she raised her eyebrows somewhat disapprovingly, "normally I wouldn't permit it but seeing as it's you…"

"Thank you Mrs Brimble," Rebecca said. The older woman stepped back and Preston appeared in the doorway. He waited until she had closed the door behind her before stepping forward and taking her in his arms. "I'm all right, Preston," she said before he could speak, "really I am."

He pulled back and looked at her, "I've been worrying about you all night."

"Well you needn't have. Really, it's just as Doctor Cook said. I fainted because of the heat."

"Rebecca…" he pushed her hair back from her face, "I care so much about you and I worry…"

"You don't have to worry!" she said, pulling away from him, "I've been managing my health for years and if I thought my attacks were coming back…"

"Would you tell me?" he interrupted.

"Of course I would." She turned and looked out of the window, her head aching, desperate for him to leave her alone. "Shouldn't you be preparing for your investors coming back?"

"Yes, yes," he said, "but I had to make sure you were all right first. Do you think you'll be fit to attend the ceremony this afternoon?"

"Yes."

"Because it might be better if you just…"

"I said I'll be there Preston, and I will," she turned back and forced a smile, "I promise."

"Good," he smiled, satisfied. "I should leave you to get ready. I'll come by for you just before the ceremony."

"Fine," she said, accepting his kiss.

"Oh," he said, turning at the door, "I spoke to Loren earlier and I told him you wouldn't be returning to work at the store."

Rebecca stared at him, "What?"

"If it wasn't one of your attacks then clearly he was working you too hard yesterday. I told you that I wouldn't stand for it."

"Wouldn't stand for it? Preston, it's not up to you!" she replied, "It's my job and my life and you had no right interfering! If I want to leave my job there then I'll decide that, not you!"

"Rebecca, this time next month we will be married and you won't be working there anymore anyway. I don't see what a few weeks…"

"I never said I would be giving up after we were married," she reminded him, "You decided that, and you had no right to! Why shouldn't I work simply because I'm going to become your wife?"

"I didn't say you shouldn't work," he said evenly, "Indeed, I think it's admirable that women hold down jobs. Haven't I employed Myra? Am I not talking with Dorothy about expanding the Gazette?"

"Yes…"

"I just don't want my wife working in some…shop…when there are plenty of other, more worthwhile things to be done at the hotel!"

"You haven't even built the thing yet Preston!" she shouted, "It's still just a piece of unspoilt land! It's not as if by the time we come back from Denver it will have magically appeared!"

He looked at her in shock, "Rebecca…"

"Oh just…just leave me alone," she flapped her hands at him and turned her back, pressing the cloth back to her head. "Please." She waited until she heard the door open and close behind him and then sank back down on the bed.

XXXX

Several hours later, she left the boarding house to take a short walk hoping to ease the pain in her head. Before leaving, she had brewed herself some of the Willowbark tea Michaela had recommended all those months ago, but so far it appeared to be having little effect. As she crossed the street, she heard the sound of her name being called and turned to see Matthew hurrying towards her.

"Matthew," she greeted him.

"Heard you fainted yesterday," he said with concern, "You all right?"

"Yes I'm fine," she said, "it was hot and I was tired and…" she trailed off.

"Preston had to carry you to the clinic," he continued.

"Well, I see it's all around town now."

"Are you sure it wasn't something more serious? It's not a problem with your heart, is it?"

"No," she said, "it was just a little fainting spell. Why can no-one accept that?" she started walking away from him.

"I'm sorry," he called after her, "I didn't mean to offend you."

Rebecca stopped and turned back, "No, I'm sorry. Preston's been fussing over me ever since it happened and, to tell you the truth, it's getting a little wearying."

"You're the one planning to marry him," Matthew reminded her. "Probably going to be doing a lot more fussing over the next fifty years."

Rebecca laughed despite herself, "How are you and Emma getting on?"

He blushed, "Fine."

"I'm glad," she said genuinely, "I hope the two of you can be happy, especially now she's given up…well…stopped working at the saloon."

"You going to the ceremony later?" he changed the subject.

"Yes," she sighed, "Preston's expecting me to charm his investors again. I'm sure everything's going to go fine. And you?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "I guess I'll see you there."

"See you later," she replied. Turning, she started walking towards the meadow, breathing in the warm air and letting the sun warm her face.

"Rebecca! Rebecca!" Turning, she saw Loren hurrying towards her. "Are you all right?" he asked, his face marred with concern.

"I'm fine…"

"Preston came by this morning and told me you collapsed yesterday after work! I'm so sorry, I didn't realise that I was working you so hard…"

"Loren," she put her hand on his arm, "It wasn't you, I promise. It was the heat and I was tired…" Why do I feel as though I've said this a million times?

"Well…I understand that you don't want to come back, but I'll sure miss having you around, especially now that Dorothy's going to be moving to the old telegraph office."

"I didn't know that Preston was going to tell you I wouldn't be back," she said, "he had no right to do it without consulting me, Loren. If you still want me to work at the store, then I'm more than happy to do so."

Loren smiled, "You are?"

"Of course. If you're in agreement, I can start again tomorrow."

"I'd like that," he enthused.

"Good, that's settled then."

"But…what about Preston?"

She raised her eyebrow, "You leave Preston to me."

XXXX

"I trust you're in a slightly more amiable mood now," Preston greeted Rebecca several hours later as he met her on the porch of the boarding house.

She sighed inwardly. "I'm feeling a little better, if that's what you mean." In truth, her head still hurt, but not nearly as much as it had that morning. She stepped off of the porch and entwined her arm with his, though she could tell by his stiffness that he had offered it out of convention as opposed to desire.

"That's not what I meant," he replied, quietly as they began walking down the street together. "I'm talking about the exchange in your room this morning."

"You mean the exchange involving you interfering in my life?" she replied, smiling at Colleen and Andrew as they passed the clinic. "I'm much better, thank you," she said in response to a question from the latter.

"I hardly think you can look at it in that way."

"Why not? That's exactly what it was."

"I was merely looking out for your welfare."

"By dictating to me that I had to give up my job at the store and then taking it upon yourself to convey this to Loren without even consulting me? You think that constitutes looking out for my welfare?"

"What did you expect me to do?" he asked.

"Allow me to make my own decisions," she said. "I'm happy to help you out in the hotel whenever it's required. But I'll do it because I want to, not because you force me. And the same has to be said for my job."

"But I don't understand why you want to work there!" he said, frustrated.

"I don't expect you to, Preston," she replied evenly, "but it's my choice."

"Rebecca, I hardly think…"

"Are we going to this ceremony or not?" she asked, stopping and turning to face him.

He paused, "Yes, yes we are."

"Then I suggest we go now and continue this discussion later." Without saying anything more, he helped into the surrey which was parked outside the bank and they began making their way. Upon arrival, she saw the gentlemen she had met the previous evening waiting for them.

"Rebecca!" Harold Lewis greeted her enthusiastically as he helped her down from the surrey, "How are you this afternoon my dear?"

"I'm fine, thank you," she said, accepting his help, but feeling her headache return tenfold at his booming voice. "And you?"

"Very well, very well!" he said, "Looking forward to this, I must say."

She greeted the other gentlemen present and saw that there was a good turnout of people from town. She felt pleased, for Preston's sake.

"Rebecca…" she felt his hand on her back and he gestured for her to step up onto the podium where his investors were assembling.

"No, no," she said, "I'll stay down here."

"Why?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Because this is your moment," she gave him a smile, "I'll be fine down here with Myra." She gestured to where Myra was standing with Horace, the latter looking extremely disgruntled. Wisely, Preston decided to take the matter no further, but she could tell by his expression that he was unhappy. She moved over to stand with Myra. "Afternoon, Myra."

"Hi," the other woman replied, "You all right?"

"Fine, thank you. You?"

"Oh…ok I guess." She leaned in to whisper, "Horace ain't too happy to be here."

"Why not?"

"Don't ask."

Rebecca was prevented from saying anything more by Matthew tapping her on the shoulder. "Hello," she greeted him.

"Everything going ok?" he asked, gesturing to the platform where Preston had started speaking.

"So far," she replied, "are you here in an official capacity?"

"I like to make sure I keep an eye on things," he replied, "you never know when trouble's going to start."

"I can't see anything happening here," she said, "it's only a groundbreaking ceremony."

"Better safe than sorry."

"Horace!" Myra's exclamation caused Rebecca to look round again, "You're…you're embarrassing me!"

"Embarrassing you? What about me? Having to come here in the first place just so's you can impress that thief!"

"Horace!"

"And what about that time I let you run around with Hank in front of the whole town pretending you were married? You think that didn't embarrass me?"

Hank stepped over, "Leave her alone, Horace."

"Don't you tell me what to do," Horace said contemptuously.

"Oh my Lord…" Myra groaned, turning to Rebecca who didn't know what to say.

"Gentlemen, can we take this discussion elsewhere?" Preston demanded from the platform.

"You don't shut up an' leave her be, I'll make you shut up," Hank threatened, oblivious.

"Mind your own business Hank," Horace growled.

Preston stepped down from the platform, irritated at the interruption, and headed towards the warring pair.

"Preston…" Rebecca said as he approached, but he ignored her.

"Hank, Horace, do you mind? You're disrupting the…" before Preston could finish his sentence, Hank sent a stinging blow in his direction, knocking Preston clean off of his feet and into a puddle of mud.

"Oh my Lord!" Rebecca rushed forwards at the sight. "Preston, are you all right?" She hovered as he emerged from the puddle, dripping everywhere, literally covered head to toe in the stuff. "Are you hurt?" she asked, moving forwards. Behind her, chaos reigned as Horace and Hank traded blows, causing the table of food prepared by Grace to topple onto the ground.

"No," he said stiffly.

"You're covered!" she exclaimed, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, "Here, let me…" She reached out to wipe some of the mud away.

"I'm fine!" he snapped, pushing her roughly away from him so that she stumbled backwards.

"Hey!" Matthew said, instantly placing himself between the couple. "That's enough, Preston!"

"Ah yes," Preston sneered, irritated at the intrustion, "our gallant Sheriff, always by Rebecca's side."

"Stop it," Rebecca said, her voice low, "please."

"Back off," Matthew said quietly.

"Don't you threaten me," Preston said.

Rebecca couldn't bear to listen to any more. Turning, she fled back in the direction of town, pushing past people in her quest to get away.

What was happening to their relationship?

XXXX

Back in the bank, several hours later, Preston cleaned himself up and examined the small bruise on the side of his face where he had been struck. The entire day had been a disaster from start to finish. Fighting with Rebecca and then ending up face down in a puddle of mud was not how he had envisaged the day going. Thinking about Rebecca, he suddenly felt a crushing weight of guilt settle on him. She had only been trying to help him and he had, literally, pushed her away. On top of that, he had allowed his feelings of insecurity surrounding her relationship with Matthew to be allowed a voice and, for all of that, he was ashamed.

Once he was changed, he left the bank and hurried to the boarding house hoping to talk with her. Mrs Brimble informed him that Rebecca hadn't returned and, although she didn't say it, he could see the disapproval in her face.

It was late in the evening when he eventually found her. She was sitting alone in Grace's café, staring into space. The sun had long since gone down and he could barely see her in the dark. He was still smarting from his own humiliation, but saw weariness etched on her face mingled with, what he had to admit looked suspiciously like, unhappiness and felt it pierce his heart. He walked over to the table and she looked up as he approached.

"May I sit down?" he asked quietly, half expecting her to say no.

"Of course," she replied. He pulled out a chair and sat beside her. "How are you?" she asked, before he could speak.

"Fine," he replied, "nothing a few days healing won't fix."

"And your investors?"

"I made sure they were escorted back to the train," he said, "I think they were rather shocked by the whole turn of events."

"I'm sure once they've had time to think on it, they'll see that it wasn't your fault."

"I'm sure you're right." Neither of them spoke for a long moment. "But what happened between us was. I'm sorry," he said finally, "for what happened earlier."

"It's all right," she said, staring down at her hands clasped on the table in front of her.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you, nor should I have laid hands on you the way I did," he looked at her, "can you forgive me?"

"It was only a small push, Preston," she said. "Of course I can forgive you."

"Maybe," he said, "but I abhor violence towards women in any way shape or form and I'm…I'm ashamed of my actions."

"I promise you, it's fine."

"And…I'm sorry for the inference I made about Matthew." He avoided her gaze. "That was wrong too."

"Matthew's my friend and always will be," she said, "but nothing more." How could she convey to him, other than in the obvious way, that it was he that filled her dreams at night, his touch that she longed for, his body that she ached to be entangled with her own?

He nodded. "I'm going to ask you this straight out, Rebecca," he said decisively, "and I'd appreciate a straight answer." She looked at him in surprise. "Do you still want to marry me?"

Her mouth dropped open slightly, "Of course I do," she said, "why would you think…?"

"Because all we have seemed to do these last few days is fight. If it's not about your health, it's about your working at the store… nothing I say or do seems to please you and I don't want to force you into a marriage where you're destined to be so unhappy." He saw a flicker cross her face. "If you are unhappy, please tell me."

"I'm not," she said quietly, "at least…not with you. I…" she ran a hand over her eyes.

"Then what is it?" he asked, desperate to know what, if anything he could do to make things right.

"I suppose I'm finding it difficult getting used to having someone in my life," she explained. "Someone who wants to make decisions for me, who wants to…"

"I only want to look after you," he interrupted.

"I know that," she placed her hand on top of his, "and I love you for it, but…I've been on my own for some time and I'm used to not having to compromise with anyone. I know that has to change in a marriage but I can't help trying to cling onto my own independence."

"I don't want to suffocate you."

"You're not," she reassured him, "but you can't expect to take me as your wife as if you're taking me from my father's home. It's not like that with me. I have to have a voice and I have to have an opinion…and one of those has to be about where I work." She looked at him meaningfully.

Preston sighed heavily, realising that this was clearly one battle he would have to concede. "Fine. If you want to keep working at the store then I can't very well stop you, can I?"

"No," she said, with a small smile, "You can't."

"But there will be times when I will need you at the hotel," he added, "and I would hope that…"

"I will be there," she said, "I promise. But please," she added, "this is the second time we've needed to have this conversation. I don't want us to have it again, Preston, really I don't."

"All right," he said, "I promise." He leaned over to kiss her but stopped as Colleen came hurrying up.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said.

"Another Quinn…" Preston said under his breath. Rebecca smothered a laugh.

"Horace asked if I could bring this for you, Mr Lodge. It's a telegram."

"I can see that, thank you Colleen," he took it from her and opened it.

"Thank you, Colleen," Rebecca said. She turned back after the younger girl had left and saw a frown marring Preston's features. "What is it? It's not bad news I hope."

"Well…no…" he said hesitantly.

"Then what is it?"

"My mother and father wish to attend our wedding in Denver," he said, passing the paper to her. "My father has business there around the same time and they think it would be an ideal opportunity to finally meet you."

Rebecca read the words and then passed the telegram back to him wordlessly, her head beginning to suddenly pound again. It seemed she would be coming face to face with Preston A. Lodge II, and his prejudices, sooner than she had hoped.