"You, actually," Vance said quietly. She faced Mae and rested her shoulder against the side of the fireplace.

"I was hoping that thinking of me might make you look a little happier," Mae said as she approached.

Vance braced herself for a touch, because the slightest contact from Mae tended to unbalance her. "I was thinking how extraordinary you are."

Blushing, Mae halted abruptly an arm's length from Vance. "I'm used to people...men...saying I'm beautiful, but I--"

"You are beautiful."

Mae waved a hand impatiently. "Stop that talk so I can finish my thought."

Vance grinned and settled with her back fully against the wall, her legs crossed at the ankles, her hand in her pocket. "Go ahead."

Now it wasn't Vance's words that drove every thought from her mind, but the sight of her all long and lean and her dark hair still dripping wet. Despite that, her face revealed just a touch of arrogance that Mae found quite appealing. "The water's going to get cold."

Vance said nothing, but it was suddenly very hard to breathe as Mae reached for the laces on her bodice. "Mae--"

"Don't talk," Mae whispered as she loosed the ties. The dress slid from her shoulders to reveal the thin lace chemise that barely covered her nipples. "Just watch."

"I can't, not without dying." The dress fell to the floor. She wore silk and little else below. Vance turned her head away. "The most I've ever done is kiss a woman. And then, I was young and I was...it was before."

The pain in Vance's voice was so raw Mae shuddered. She would never willingly do anything to put that sound there, so she slipped behind the dressing screen and quickly removed the rest of her clothes.

She pulled on her China blue robe, and when she emerged, found Vance struggling to put on the still wet coat. "Put that down," Mae said as she walked over to Vance. "Now hold still."

"No," Vance said sharply as Mae reached for the buttons on her vest. She grasped Mae's wrist to stop her. "Please. No."

Mae looked up into Vance's eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to put you into the tub, which is what I should've thought of doing to begin with. You're the one who went through hell in that room back there, not me. You're the one who stood out in the rain. You're the one who's shaking with cold."

"It's not all the cold," Vance whispered.

Tenderly, Mae touched Vance's face. "I know. I didn't realize you'd be scared. I'm sorry."

Vance closed her eyes, but kept hold of Mae's hand, preventing Mae from undressing her any further. "Maybe we can just...sit together by the fire."

"And waste all that hot water? At least one of us is getting a bath before we do anything else." Carefully, Mae shook off Vance's hand and finished unbuttoning her vest. Then she started on her shirt. "I think you should be first." When she finished opening all the shirt buttons she waited to remove the garment. "Open your eyes. I want you to see that there's nothing about you that bothers me."

"Why are you doing this?" Vance whispered.

"Because I like looking at you." Shorter by two inches--and without her shoes, even more--Mae raised up on her tiptoes and glanced another kiss over Vance's mouth. "Because I like touching you." She took Vance's face in both hands and kissed her with intent. Slowly, she moved her lips on Vance's, accustoming herself to the taste and texture of her. She played her tongue lightly just inside Vance's mouth, enjoying the slick smooth heat and the barest whisper of Vance's tongue meeting hers. When she drew away, she knew she'd only skimmed the surface of passions buried so deep it might take a lifetime to search them out.

"Because you make things come alive inside of me that I thought had died and disappeared forever."

"What things?" Vance rasped. "Pity? I don't want you taking care of--"

Mae pressed her fingers to Vance's lips. "You'd best stop before you say something that's really going to get me riled. Maybe back East people pity someone like you, someone who paid the price for doing what she felt was right. Out here, we respect it." She moved her hand beneath Vance's chin, her fingers stroking her neck. "Now I'm going to take your shirt off and see what's been done to you. And if it makes me cry, it's not because I pity you. It's because I can't undo the hurt that you've suffered."

"You already have." Vance jerked her head away, grabbed Mae around the waist, and dragged Mae against her body. And then she took her mouth with all the fury of those long months of pain and loneliness.

Yearning and need and desire tangled in the crush of lips and teeth and tongue. She could feel Mae's naked body beneath the silk, could feel the heat--the life--in her, and she desperately grasped for it like a drowning man clutched at rocks in a rushing river. "Oh, Mae," she moaned. "Mae."

Mae had to fight to gather enough breath to speak, but she knew, knew in her heart despite her terrible desire for Vance, that this was not the time. It was the time for her, but not for Vance. If she took Vance to her bed, it would be like letting a man who'd been lost in the desert for weeks drink himself to death at the first taste of water. They would have a few minutes, a few hours even, of unbearable pleasure in one another's arms, and in the morning, Vance would walk away and never come back. It had never mattered so much that that not happen. Trembling, heart on fire, Mae braced her hands against Vance's shoulders and pushed her gently away. "I want you in my bed. Do you hear me?"

Vance--chest heaving, eyes glazed--nodded mutely.

"I want you, but not when we're both so hungry we'll tear each other to pieces." She grasped handfuls of Vance's shirt when Vance tried to back away. "Listen to me. You're not alone. I feel what you feel.

I need what you need." She took Vance's hand and eased it inside her robe, then pressed Vance's palm over her breast where her heart lurched wildly. "Feel what you've done."

Vance dropped her head with a groan as she cupped Mae's breast.

She'd never touched another human being with passion, and now she could think of nothing else. "I need you. Please. I can't stop."

Laughing softly, Mae clasped Vance's wrist and moved her hand from her breast. "Now I know you're just playing on my sympathy."

Shakily, Vance laughed and her mind cleared a fraction. "I was hoping you'd find it in your heart to be charitable, considering how I've been...wounded and all."

"Oh, I might find a soft spot or two for you in my heart." Mae backed toward the other room where the tub awaited, pulling Vance along by her hand. "Now I want you in the tub with me."

Mae's robe had fallen open and her breasts were bare. They were full and firm and rose-kissed. Her body was hot and passionate. She was beautiful. But what gave Vance the courage to answer was the tender welcome in Mae's eyes.

"Yes," Vance said quietly. "I want that, too."


CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Oh my goodness!" Martha Beecher stood in the middle of the kitchen with her hand pressed to her heart, her gaze darting from Kate to Jessie. "Whatever has happened! Kate--look at you, you're soaked. You're sure to get ill again behaving this way." She cast a quick but disapproving glance in Jessie's direction.

"We're quite all right, Mother," Kate said with the slightest hint of ire. After all she'd experienced that evening, such fuss over a little bit of rain felt ridiculous. "We just need to get into some dry clothes and everything will be fine."

"Go on into the parlor and stand by the fire," Martha instructed.

"I'll make some tea."

As Kate and Jessie started from the room, Martha gasped and caught Jessie's arm. Anxiously, she asked, "Is that blood on your shirt? Are you hurt?"

"It's just a scratch. I'm fine, thank you," Jessie said quietly.

"What's happened?" This time, Martha spoke calmly, as if the true gravity of the situation had settled her nerves.

Jessie glanced quickly at Kate, who nodded. "Horse thieves shot at me and some of my men up in the hills yesterday. My friend Jed is at the doc's right now."

"Is it serious?"

"Yes, ma'am." Jessie's voice trembled and she reached for Kate's hand.

Kate moved quickly to Jessie's side and slipped an arm around her waist, hugging her close. "Tea would be good, Mother, if you could make some. We're both chilled."

Martha regarded the way Jessie leaned against Kate for support, heard the quiet steady strength in her daughter's voice, and saw, truly saw for the first time, the woman Kate had become. It was impossible to deny the powerful feelings between the two younger women, no matter how dearly she might have wished it otherwise. She remembered those terrible hours when she had thought she would lose Kate to illness.

She recalled Jessie never moving from Kate's bedside and promising any sacrifice if Kate would only live. And after, when Kate was barely days from death's door, Kate's determination that nothing would keep her from being with Jessie, even if they had to leave the territory to be together. It was foolish to think that anything as petty as the small- mindedness of others would ever keep these two apart.

"Take Jessie upstairs to your room and get out of those wet things.

I'll find some clothes of your father's that will fit Jessie well enough for now. You both need to get dry before you catch your death."

"Thank you," Kate whispered, hugging her mother tightly.

v The large tin tub stood behind the dressing screen in one corner of Mae's bedroom. Vance took comfort in the fact that the area was only dimly lit by a single oil lamp burning on the dresser on the far side of the bed, which took up the center of the room. She hoped that the scars on her chest and shoulder would blend with the shadows of the room and be less shocking, if no less unsightly. Even her father, a physician and a man used to seeing the worst of the human condition, had exclaimed at the state of the wounds the first time he'd seen her.