I'm playing fast and loose with the timeline now. Hope nobody minds! Some more smut in this chapter! Please read and review :)

August 1871

Colorado Springs

"There you go Mr Jackson. Your money is now safely deposited in the Bank of Colorado with my personal assurance that it will make even more money for you. And I'd like to thank you once again for choosing to bank with us." Preston handed his latest customer a cigar before showing him out of the bank and back into the sunshine of a perfect Colorado afternoon. The town was bustling as usual, something which made him feel proud to be one of its citizens.

As he stood surveying, he saw Michaela coming out of the clinic, showing out her last patient. Mindful that Rebecca had had an appointment with her earlier that day, he hurried across the street to speak to her.

"Michaela!" he called out, catching her attention before she could go back inside.

"Good afternoon Preston," she replied.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes it is. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Well, I just wanted to check that everything was all right with Rebecca. I know that she had an appointment with you this morning."

"Yes, she did," Michaela said, "but I'm afraid that I can't discuss our meeting with you."

Preston frowned, "I'm sorry?"

"All discussions with my patients have to remain confidential."

"I'm her husband!" he exclaimed.

"I know, and I don't mean to be difficult but…well, say for instance there was something she didn't want you to know and I told you? It would ruin the trust that she had placed in me as her doctor."

Preston felt panic suddenly flood through him, "Something's wrong, isn't it? With her health…what is it? Is it serious…?"

"Preston, Preston!" Michaela held up her hands, "Nothing is wrong with Rebecca. I was merely speaking hypothetically."

"Well why didn't you say so?" he snapped.

"I'm sorry, Preston, I…"

"Seeing as we're discussing business, Michaela," he interrupted her, "perhaps I could take this moment to remind you that your most recent loan payment is nearly two weeks late."

Michaela looked worried, "I know and we will have the money…"

"There will be late fees," he told her, "and the next payment is due in almost two weeks."

"You'll have your money, Preston," she replied robustly.

"Good," he said, turning away and heading over to the store where he knew Rebecca would be coming to the end of her working day.

When he stepped inside, she was busy helping a woman choose fabric in the corner, so he leant against the counter watching her and told himself for the one millionth time how lucky he was that she was his wife.

"Preston!" she said, catching sight of him. "I'll leave you to have a look and see what you want," she said to the customer before hurrying over to greet him with a kiss. "Shouldn't you be at the bank?"

"I should, but I wanted to come and see how you were," he replied.

"I'm fine. Why shouldn't I be?"

"Well…" he glanced around, not really wanting to discuss her health in the middle of the store.

"Oh…" she caught his meaning, "yes, I'm fine. Everything is fine."

"Good," he said, kissing her again. "Michaela wouldn't tell me."

"Michaela?"

"I saw her and I asked her if everything was all right and she told me that she couldn't tell me because she was your doctor and it was confidential!" he was still outraged. "And me your husband!"

Rebecca smiled, "I suppose we should be pleased at her discretion."

"I would be if it was directed at someone other than myself," he replied pettily.

"Never mind," she said, "I would have told you myself the minute I saw you. I would have come over to the bank if I hadn't been so busy here." At that, the customer gestured to her and she excused herself to go back over and attend to her. The woman selected blue fabric and requested enough for two dresses. Rebecca lifted it and took it over to the cutting table while the customer looked at other products. Preston followed her over. "Don't you have your own work to be getting on with?" she asked with a smile.

"I do," he said, "but…"

"But what?"

"Well…how long until Loren is able to come back to work?"

"I've no idea. He's still at the clinic and, from what Michaela says, it can take time to recover from something as serious as a stroke."

"Yes, yes, but in the meantime," he insisted, "you're here having to run the whole place single-handedly."

"Something which I'm more than capable of doing."

"Rebecca." She ignored him. "Rebecca!"

"Preston," she sighed, "I'm trying to work!"

"I can see that…"

"Well, can you let me get on with it then please?" She looked up and saw the expression on his face. "I'm fine. I'll see you at Grace's at five." He hesitated. "Preston…"

"All right," he said, holding up his hands, "I see I'm not going to be able to have a conversation about this with you here. Perhaps we can discuss it more this evening." He dropped a light kiss on her cheek and then left the store.

Rebecca sighed, finished cutting the cloth and then moved back to the counter where the woman was waiting.

"Newlywed?" the woman asked.

"Two months," Rebecca replied.

"Feel like killin' him yet?"

Rebecca laughed, "Yet? I felt that way before the wedding."

The next two hours seemed to fly by with customers coming in and out as though there was a famine. Finally, as the clock on the wall turned to five o'clock, Rebecca finished sweeping the floor and was about to close up when Dorothy came barrelling in, her mouth set in a grim line.

"Dorothy," Rebecca greeted her, "What can I..?"

"Rebecca," Dorothy began, in an exasperated tone, "I know it's not right to come to you with this but, quite frankly, I don't know what else to do! I mean the nerve of the man and…well…he is your husband…"

"What happened?"

"Preston threatened to call in my loan on the Gazette because of the book I'm writing about Cloud Dancing!" Dorothy was clearly outraged. "He actually said to me that he wasn't prepared to lose business because of my…what did he call it…foolish indiscretions?!"

Rebecca sighed, "I see."

"Could you talk to him for me?"

"Well, I…"

"Please, Rebecca, I know he would listen to you. I love the Gazette but I love writing this book too and I want to tell Cloud Dancing's story. Please?" Her expression was beseeching.

"I'll see what I can do," Rebecca relented. "But I can't promise anything, Dorothy. Preston rarely listens to me about anything to do with business."

"Oh, thank you!" Dorothy looked relieved, "I appreciate it Rebecca I really do." With that, she left the store.

"You might appreciate it," Rebecca muttered to herself, "but Preston won't."

XXXX

Shortly thereafter, she made her way into Grace's Café and found Preston waiting for her. As she approached, he stood up, kissed her and then pulled out her chair for her before sitting back down.

"I'm sorry if I bothered you earlier," he said.

"You didn't," she replied.

"Well, clearly I did, given your reaction." Rebecca sighed. "Despite what you might consider my…interference…I'm only concerned about your health."

"I never said you were interfering," she said, "and my health is fine. I haven't had an attack since Christmas…"

"What about the day before the groundbreaking ceremony?"

"I fainted, Preston," she said, "that's all. And even if it wasn't, that was months ago." She reached out and took his hand across the table.

He squeezed it in return, "All right, as long as you're sure."

"I am sure." At that moment, Grace arrived with their food and placed it before them. Rebecca lifted her fork and began moving it around. "I spoke with Dorothy this afternoon," she ventured.

"Oh yes?"

"She told me that you threatened to call in her loan because of her book."

"It's a business decision, that's all," Preston replied without lifting his head.

"It's a little unfair, don't you think?"

"No I don't," he replied. "Sales are down because of what Dorothy's up to with Cloud Dancing and with a shareholding of 49%..." Rebecca rolled her eyes. He paused. "You may scoff all you like, my dear, but business decisions have to be taken based on the current economic situation. With the markets slipping the way they are, it's important to only be investing in things that are going to succeed."

"The Gazette is a successful business."

"It won't be if Dorothy continues the way she is," he said stubbornly, "and I don't intend to be part of it when it goes down. You would also do well to remember, Rebecca, that you benefit from that 49% shareholding too." Rebecca didn't reply. "I also had to remind Michaela today that her loan payment was overdue, something which I didn't enjoy, but which is necessary under the circumstances. I would hate to have to foreclose on her property if she and Sully can't maintain their repayments."

"Preston!" Rebecca let her fork drop into her plate with a clatter, "Michaela and Sully are my friends!"

"Exactly, they're your friends, not mine. This is business, Rebecca."

"You can't foreclose on their homestead!"

"I will if I have to."

"Well…I would ask you not to, for my sake."

"My darling, if I ran the bank based entirely on what you wanted me to do, I would never make any money." He meant it endearingly, but it only served to irritate Rebecca more.

"Well, sometimes I don't like how you run the bank." She pushed her plate away. "I've lost my appetite."

By now, Preston too was irritated. "Have you been to the farm yet?" he asked. "The first month's rent must be due by now."

"It's due on Friday as you very well know," she replied.

He shrugged non-committally, "You were the one who insisted on taking full responsibility for it. If you can't keep your tenants in check…"

"It's not a question of keeping Mr Collins and his family in check," she retorted. "It's very good of them taking the property on in the condition it's in. I have every confidence that they will be able to manage it and manage it well."

"All I'm saying is make sure that you keep on top of him when it comes to the finances. There's no point in it becoming a drain on us."

"Lord forbid it became a drain on you, Preston," she said sarcastically.

He looked at her, as though stunned by her tone. "Rebecca, I hardly think that's fair. I bought the property for you. I've let you have full control of it…"

"You let me have full control?"

"A poor choice of words," he conceded, "the point is, I have supported you in this venture and as someone who has considerable more business experience than you, I am merely offering you invaluable words of advice." Rebecca had switched off by this point. "Whether you choose to take them is up to you."

"Yes, well, perhaps we should refrain from discussing business," she said, "lately it seems as though we're hardly likely to agree."

"Fine," he said.

"Fine," she agreed.

There was a long moment of strained silence.

"I thought you might like to take a trip out to the house this evening," Preston said finally. "It's coming on in leaps and bounds and we should be able to move in by late September."

"All right," she replied evenly. "I'd like to see it."

After he had paid Grace, they left, took the surrey and began making their way out of town towards where their house was in the process of being built. It was a beautiful summer's evening and the smell from the flowers along the way was intoxicating.

"It really is beautiful out here," she commented.

"Indeed it is," he replied. A few moments later, they pulled up in front of the house, which was looking much more advanced than the last time Rebecca had seen it.

"It's going to be beautiful when it's finished," she said, although in her heart, she still felt it was too large for them.

"Isn't it just?" he said, helping her down. "Let's go inside."

"Is it safe?" she hesitated.

"Of course it is," he replied, taking her hand and leading her up the steps and inside.

As she stepped through the door, Rebecca was instantly struck by the size. It was even bigger inside than it looked from the outside. The entrance hallway was large with doors leading off into separate living and dining quarters. At the back of the house was the kitchen and a wooden staircase led upstairs.

"They're still putting the finishing touches to the bedrooms," he explained, "so we can't go upstairs at present." He turned to face her. "Well, what do you think?"

"It's…"she fought for the right words, "lovely."

"I knew you'd like it," he said, drawing her to the living room window. "Look at that view. Isn't it breathtaking?"

"The same one we had on our picnic on Valentine's Day."

"Exactly." He slipped his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head. "I think we're going to be very happy here."

Rebecca's anger began to dissipate. She loved Preston and knew that he loved her. For all the many things that irritated her, he was loving, caring and attentive towards her and she knew he would move heaven and earth to make her happy. It seemed, on occasion however, that they were both simply too stubborn for their own good. "I do love you, Preston," she said.

He turned her to face him, "I love you too."

"Perhaps we really shouldn't talk about business," she said, "it only seems to make us argue and I don't like that."

"Me neither," he said, pulling her close to him, "What's say you leave me to worry about the bank and you concentrate on the farm?"

"It's a deal," she said as he bent to kiss her.

XXXX

The main problem with the method of contraception that Michaela had recommended for her was that it had the unhappy distinction of severely killing the mood. In Rebecca's case, the moment she felt that she wanted to initiate anything, she had to scurry off to a quiet corner to put it in place before things could go any further which, generally, dampened her mood significantly. When Preston made any such overtures towards her, she invariably had to excuse herself for a few minutes before returning which made him frustrated.

"Can't you leave it in all the time?" he had demanded one evening as she had hurried away from him.

"No I can't," she had replied. "Apart from the fact that it's not exactly the most comfortable thing in the world, it wouldn't be safe."

"Well what is it anyway?"

"It's a sponge soaked in vinegar," she had revealed.

"A sponge?" he had repeated, a mild look of distaste on his face.

"Yes, Michaela says that it should prevent pregnancy."

"Should prevent pregnancy?"

"Well nothing is guaranteed, is it?" They had made love after that conversation, though she had noticed a reticence on his part. "Preston," she had said afterwards, "try and not think about it."

"Well I just think…I mean it's not…"

She had smiled at him. "You know, there is something else that we could use. I saw them in Denver. It's a rubber sheath which the male puts…on…and…"

"Rubber sheath?" he had looked even more aghast.

"Apparently, it's the latest method of preventing pregnancy and has been widely available for some time now." Needless to say, he hadn't been willing to explore the matter further and had made no other comment about what she used.

This particular evening, when they arrived back at the bank, it was abundantly clear what Preston's intentions were. As she stood with her back to him as he unlocked the door, he pressed himself against her and gently nuzzled her neck. Once inside, he pulled her to him in the dimming light and kissed her fiercely. Rebecca, who had grown quite fond of marital relations since her wedding, responded with equal ardour and didn't resist as he unbuttoned her shawl and allowed it to fall to the floor. She prised his jacket from his shoulders and then hastily opened the buttons at the collar of his shirt, exposing the flesh of his neck which she kissed and sucked before biting.

"My, my," Preston murmured, pulling back from her, "The last few months have certainly…awakened you."

"Are you complaining?"

"Not at all," he said, catching her mouth with his again, his fingers wrestling with the buttons at the back of her dress. Rebecca pulled the straps of his breeches down from his shoulders before prising open the remainder of his shirt and slipping it from his torso, allowing her to run her hands over his naked skin. The back of her dress opened and he slid it forwards, down over her shoulders, allowing her to pull her arms out, causing it to fall to her waist and expose the very expensive French lace undergarment he had ordered for her from Paris. The sight of it only served to excite him more and he pushed against her, pressing her back against the wall, feasting on the ample flesh on show.

"Preston…" she gasped, instinctively parting her thighs and waiting for him to lift her up and enter her as she desperately wanted him to do, though she knew the action would make her no better than a whore.

Instead, he pulled back and looked at her, his breathing ragged. "I would take you right here if there were not a suitable bed available." Before she could respond, he had scooped her up in his arms and carried her hastily through the bank and into the back living quarters. They fell onto the bed together and he pulled her dress down over her hips and tossed it casually onto the floor. Then, on his knees, he pulled her up so that she was sitting facing him, allowing him access to the buttons at the back of her underwear. "Too many…buttons…" he groaned, as he tried to open them quickly without tearing them. As he was doing so, Rebecca proceeded to wrap her arms around him and resume kissing and biting his throat and neck, creating delicious spasms in his lower regions.

Finally, the offending article was removed and she was naked beneath him. She pulled at the belt of his trousers, then at the buttons, pushing them down over his hips where he kicked them off. Just as he was about to slip inside her, her eyes widened. "Wait!"

"Wait?" he panted, "I don't think I can, my dear."

"No, but I haven't…" You haven't put it in…you haven't put it in…her mind spoke the truth, but her body spoke her desires. She knew she should make him stop, insist he stop. But his mouth…and his hands…and the way her body was responding…

Before she could think any more on it, he was inside her, pulsating hard, causing her to cry out his name so loudly she was surprised people didn't come running to see if she was all right. It was over in a matter of moments, but their passion left them both exhausted.

"If that happens every time we argue," Preston said, once he had regained his breath, "we really should talk about business more often." He rolled back on top of her and kissed her face and down her throat, across her chest and down to her breasts. "In fact," he lifted his head, "I think it may be about to happen again right now." She could feel him swelling against her thigh, but this time common sense wore out and she rolled away from him. "What's wrong?" he asked. He watched as she lifted her robe from the back of the chair and covered herself with it. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?"

She turned and saw the earnestness of his expression. "No," she said, tying the robe around her and sitting back down on the bed.

"Then what is it?" he asked, shifting closer to her. "Did I frighten you? I know I may have gotten a little carried away…"

"No," she smiled wanly, "not at all. I enjoyed it."

"Well that's a relief," he said, "then what..?"

"I wasn't protected, Preston," she said softly.

"I don't understand."

"I didn't have a chance to protect myself." She looked at him meaningfully, willing him to understand.

He did and his expression grew fearful, "Well…what does that mean?"

"It means that there's a chance I could become pregnant."

"Well, isn't there something…I mean surely you can do something…"

She sighed. "I can wash myself…"

"Well then do it!" he leapt off the bed and hastily pulled on his trousers. "I'll help you. What do you need?"

"It's all right," she said, "I don't need you to help me. I just need some warm water and a cloth…" before she had finished speaking, he had rushed from the room to the small stove that sat in the other room. She could hear him clattering around with the kettle, putting it onto boil. She sat there, waiting, contemplating, thinking. One moment of heated passion could have spoiled everything. Or created something wonderful.

A few moments later, he was back with a basin of hot water and a fresh flannel. He handed them to her and then hovered uncertainly. "Should I..?"

"You don't have to watch," she reassured him. "Just give me a few minutes." He dutifully left the room after which she douched herself thoroughly and then put on clean underwear and a clean nightdress. When she went into the other room, Preston leapt to his feet from the chair.

"Are you all right?" he demanded,

"I'm fine," she said.

"Rebecca…darling…I'm so sorry. I should have listened to you. I should have stopped when you asked me to…"

"I didn't ask you to stop," she said, "If anything, I encouraged you. The fault lies with me, Preston, not you."

"No," he said forcefully, "it's my responsibility to ensure that no harm comes to you and that includes making sure that you don't fall pregnant. It's my fault." He stepped into her open arms and held her. "I'm so sorry." She didn't say anything. "How soon will you know if…?"

"As soon as I get my monthly bleed," she said, "or not, as the case may be." She pulled back and looked at him. "I'm fairly regular, so it should be easy to tell."

He nodded, but she could tell he was still concerned. They went to bed after that, and he held her as he always did, but she knew that he didn't sleep that night, for neither did she.

Two weeks later

Preston was already sat at his desk, having risen early that morning with the intention of doing some paperwork before the bank opened. He was halfway through checking the loan figures Myra had prepared for him the day before when the door to the back room opened and Rebecca came out.

"You should have wakened me," she said by way of greeting.

"You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't like to," he replied. "Besides, what with Loren back on his feet I thought it might be all right for you to go in to work a little late today." She looked at the floor. "What is it?"

"I've taken my monthly," she said.

Relief flooded his body, "Thank God!" he declared, getting to his feet. He made to hug her, but stopped at her expression. "You don't seem particularly happy."

"No, I am," she said, as earnestly as possible, for how could she tell him that a small part of her had hoped that she was in fact pregnant, "it's just…"

"All the worry, I completely understand," he said, drawing her into his arms, "Well, it's over now, thank goodness, and we can get back to normal."

"Normal," she echoed.

"Exactly," he pulled back and looked at her, "Now we know that it's safe we can resume…relations. Although perhaps I should take more of an active role in things."

"In what sense?"

"In the sense of making sure that you're adequately protected. I know I wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of the…device…that you mentioned before but…well…after this scare, I think it's only fair that I…reconsider my opinion and agree to give it a try."

"You do?"

"Yes I do," he pulled her to him again. "I want to be satisfied that this sort of thing will never, never happen again."

Next chapter: Preston runs for Mayor!