"Hello, Lettie, do you remember me?"

The young girl nodded. "You were here before with Mae. You're the doctor."

"That's right. Are you having any pain?"

Lettie shook her head.

"How about earlier? Did anything unusual happen?"

Again, a head shake.

"All right then, what about the bleeding? When did you notice that?"

Lettie cast an uncertain glance in Sissy's direction.

"Go ahead, girl, tell her," Sissy said with a touch of impatience.

"Round about three days," Lettie said quietly.

Vance looked at Sissy. "Would you please pour a basin of water for me." Then she smiled encouragingly at Lettie. "All right, then, I'm going to take a look at you and then we'll talk. Okay?"

"Yes," Lettie whispered.

Vance went to the sideboard and used a cake of soap and the water Sissy had poured to wash her hand. She was aware of Sissy watching her curiously, and when she reached for the towel and dried her hand with the towel pressed to her chest, she met Sissy's eyes. "You must tell them not to wait when there's a problem. I will always come. There is nothing for them to be afraid of."

Wordlessly, Sissy took the towel and finished drying Vance's hand.

When Vance tried to pull away, she shook her head. "I can do it faster."

As she carefully patted each finger, she said, "Girls who are sick, who can't work, are used to being put out on the street."

"Surely not here. Surely, Mae would not..."

"Mae can't be everywhere, all the time," Sissy said, regarding Vance with blazing eyes. "And even if she was, she don't own the roof over our heads."

"Who does?"

Sissy shrugged. "Don't know. Don't make any difference to me."

"Nevertheless," Vance said firmly, "if they're sick, I need to know.

Tell them they'll get back to work faster if they let me see to them."

"You're not going to tell us to change our evil ways?" Sissy asked sarcastically.

"That's not for me to say. My job is to treat the sick."

"Ain't that what we are?"

"No," Vance said gently. "Now let me see to Lettie."

Vance was in the midst of palpating Lettie's distended abdomen when she felt a subtle shift in the air in the room, as in the sky before an electrical storm. Then she caught a whiff of wildflowers on hot summer afternoons, and she smiled. Without looking up, she said, "Good evening, Mae."

"Looks like we're keeping you busy," Mae said, coming up behind Vance and brushing her shoulder in greeting. "Sorry to trouble you."

"No trouble," Vance murmured, sliding her palm over the outline of the uterus, pressing gently to discern the position of the developing head. Then she sat back and carefully pulled up the covers and gave Lettie's hand a reassuring pat. "I'm going to speak with Mae for a few minutes. Everything seems to be fine, but you're going to need to stay in bed for several more days until I examine you again."

"Oh, but--"

Vance shook her head. "No buts. It's important." She stood and followed Mae outside into the corridor. It was less than two hours since she'd last seen her, but she was aware of having missed her.

"Thank you for coming," Mae said.

"There's no need to thank me." Vance resisted the urge to capture a golden ringlet that had escaped from the mass of curls and now dangled enticingly onto Mae's breast. It fluttered with each breath, a taunting invitation as it danced over ivory skin.

Mae followed the direction of Vance's gaze, wondering how much of what she saw in Vance's eyes Vance was actually aware of.

Despite the pleasant flutter in the stomach the thought gave her, it was something best pursued another day. There were more important things to attend to now.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Possibly nothing. She has had some bleeding, which is not completely unheard of at this stage in the pregnancy." Vance watched a well-dressed man in a business suit accompany the redheaded Annie down the hall and disappear into a room. "But it could be the first sign of something serious. She needs to be at complete bed rest for at least the next several days."

"I'll see to that." Mae traced a line with her nails up and down Vance's forearm, which was bare below her pushed-up cuff. She smiled to herself when she saw Vance visibly shudder. "Maybe you can look in on her tomorrow before dinner."

"I'll do that," Vance said hoarsely, stunned by the twist of excitement that slivered through her.

"Good," Mae said, smiling sweetly. "Now you go on home." She touched Vance's cheek fleetingly. "And you have sweet dreams."

Vance leaned against the wall watching Mae as she glided away, wondering if any pleasure would ever have the power to replace her nightmares.


CHAPTER TWELVE

"Are you feeling ill?" Martha Beecher asked, studying Kate with concern as they cleared dishes from the table. "You ate very little for breakfast, and now nothing for lunch."

"No, I feel wonderful," Kate replied with forced brightness. "I'm quite recovered by now."

"Of course you are," Martha said, although she wouldn't believe the truth of that until many more weeks had passed. "But that doesn't mean you don't need to take care of yourself. It's important that you eat and get plenty of rest--"

"I know." Kate poured water into the dish basin. "Really, you needn't worry."

"You forget I'm your mother." Martha crossed her arms, frowning.

"I can tell when you're not yourself."

"I never forget that." Kate sighed and set the dishrag aside. "I had hoped that Jessie would be here by now. She said she'd come into town as soon as she brought the horses down from the high country."

Martha's expression darkened subtly. "Your father and I are always happy to have you here, so staying another night--"

"That's not the point. Jessie always keeps her promises to me,"

Kate said, her eyes flashing. "She said she would be here today. The only reason she wouldn't be is if something happened."

"I'm sure you're worrying for nothing," Martha said dismissively.

"She's been off on these...roundups...frequently lately."

"I don't think you understand what life is really like beyond the borders of this little town." Kate's unease made her forget her usual patience, and her mother's offhand rejection of her anxiety over Jessie-- and more, her persistent criticism of their life together--angered her.

"She could be hur--"

"I know some of the things that could happen out there," Martha snapped. "I traveled for weeks across this hellacious countryside in that ungodly wagon the same as you and your father, only I didn't find it to be the great adventure of my life." She glanced around the kitchen, grand by New Hope's standards but humble compared to what she had been used to. "I'm trying hard to make this place my home, only to find my daughter has deserted me for a life that..."

"For a life that makes me happy," Kate said gently. She went to her mother and took her hand, giving it a small shake. "And I haven't deserted you. I'm right here. I want you to come to the ranch and see for yourself what my home is like. It's beautiful."

Martha sighed and nodded. "All right. I will."

"And I want you to be happy for me."

"It's hard, Kate, being happy about something I cannot understand."

Martha regarded Kate with tender confusion. "All my life, I have tried to be what was expected of me. Woman, wife, mother. I don't understand choosing a way of life that will only bring hardship."

Kate smiled. "Every life is hard, whether we choose our path or not. But in choosing a life with Jessie, I also know I'll have what matters most. Love."

Martha raised her hands, signaling defeat. "I love your father, but I would have married him even had I not."

"And I would not have married without love," Kate said gently.

"And it never would have happened with Ken Turner or any other man."

She laughed. "Father's dream brought me here, and my own brought me Jessie. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world."

"You're my daughter. You must forgive me for wanting acceptability and security for you."

"Acceptability will come." Kate shrugged. "And if it doesn't, what does it really matter when I go to sleep at night knowing that I have everything I could want?"

Martha shook her head. "Is that really how you feel?"

"Yes."

"The world seems to be changing very quickly." Martha sat heavily at the table. "Women do things out here I would never have imagined.

"Why, look at the new doctor. She seems not to care what anyone thinks of her, dressing in men's clothes and wearing her hair far shorter than is suitable, too."

Kate couldn't help but smile as she sat beside her mother. "I don't think Vance worries overly about the length of her hair. She's doing important work."

"Yes, and look what it cost her. Her arm," Martha said, aghast.

"That's horrible, I agree." Kate shuddered. "I really can't imagine being that brave."

"Bravery should be left to the men."

"Why? Why can't women fight for what we believe in? Why should we be any less noble in our convictions than the men?"

"Wherever do you get such ideas?" Martha sounded exasperated as well as reluctantly impressed.

Kate laughed. "From my parents, of course." She leaned forward and kissed her mother's cheek. "Both of them."

Pleased, but trying not to show it, Martha said sternly, "I can assure you, I had no part in any of these outlandish ideas of yours."