v "Really, Kate," Martha Beecher said with an aggrieved expression.

"Just because Jessie refuses to dress appropriately is no excuse for you to disregard your upbringing."

Kate Beecher took a deep breath, having known that she would invite such a conversation when she'd come to visit her mother wearing only her plain cotton walking dress, without her crinoline underneath. The wide-hooped understructure made her dresses far too cumbersome to move about easily on the ranch or to sit comfortably in the buckboard. She'd never understood why women had considered such an imposition to activity fashionable to begin with, and intended never to wear one again. Nevertheless, she was resolved to keep her temper in check when her mother criticized Jessie. She and her parents, especially her mother, were still on tenuous terms when it came to her new living arrangements and, more critically, her personal relationship with Jessie. "Jessie could hardly be expected to do the work she does dressed any differently, and," she said with a small pleased smile, "she looks wonderful just as she is."

"I'm well aware of Jessie's...differences," Martha said primly, "but I see no reason that you should suddenly forget yourself and the things you've been taught."

Laughing, Kate regarded her mother fondly. She knew how great the sacrifice had been for her mother to leave Boston society and to travel into a wild and unknown land for the sake of her husband's dreams. And for Kate's dreams, too. "Believe me, I haven't forgotten any of the important things that you've taught me."

"Sometimes I wonder."

"Oh! That will be Jessie!" Kate set her teacup aside and rose swiftly at the jangle of spurs on the wide wooden porch. Although it was only May and snow still covered the Rockies well down into the foothills, the afternoon was warm, and they'd left the front door ajar to take advantage of the breeze as they'd visited.

"Why don't you tell her she needn't wait," Martha said stiffly.

"Then you could stay for supper and your father will take you...home...

in the morning."

"Oh, no," Kate said on her way into the foyer. "I don't want to be away overnight." She opened the door wide and leaned up to give Jessie a quick kiss on the mouth. "Hello, sweetheart. Come inside. We were just finishing our tea."

"Hello, Kate." Jessie's heart swelled the way it always did when she first saw Kate after they'd been apart. Kate was every bit as breathtaking, with her lustrous wavy black hair and midnight eyes, as she had been the first morning Jessie had seen her. And even though every morning for the last week she'd awakened with Kate beside her in the four-poster bed that had been her parents', marveling at the wonder of their bodies curled together, she knew she'd never get used to having Kate in her life. It felt like a dream, and she imagined that it always would. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she said, "I've missed you."

"And I you," Kate murmured, resting her palm on Jessie's chest just above her heart.

Jessie drew her fingers over Kate's cheek, relieved to see the healthy flush of color where the angry hue of fever had been all too recently. Then she looked beyond Kate into the sitting room and caught a glimpse of the tea things set out on the buffet. A silver serving tray, plates with small sandwiches, and impossibly delicate, hand-painted china cups. The kinds of things that Kate's mother had been used to in Boston and no doubt missed out here on the frontier. To Jessie, they represented something uncomfortably foreign, and she would prefer roping a dozen wild mustangs at once to balancing one of those cups on her knee. "I don't want to interrupt. I'll just wait out here on the porch.

It's a nice enough day and I'd enjoy--"

"You will do nothing of the sort," Kate chided, linking her arm through Jessie's and pulling her inside. "You'll have some tea and sandwiches."

"Good day, Mrs. Beecher." Jessie swiftly removed her hat as she followed Kate to the sofa. She'd been in the parlor many times in the last five months while Kate had recovered from the influenza that had nearly cost her life. She'd never been entirely comfortable, especially since Martha Beecher had seen to it that they were never alone. She'd treated Jessie as the suitor she'd been, although an unwelcome one, with distant politeness and thinly veiled censure. It had been the happiest day of Jessie's life when Kate had left the Beecher home to move in with her as her lover and partner at the Rising Star Ranch. If she had her way, she'd never set foot in the Beecher home again, but she had promised Kate's father that she would not come between them, and she kept her word. Plus, Kate loved her parents and Kate's happiness was all that mattered to Jessie. If Kate wanted her there, she'd suffer the discomfort of Martha Beecher's displeasure.

"Jessie," Martha Beecher said with infinite civility. "I trust you're well?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And things at the ranch?"

Jessie's face lit up. "The Rising Star did very well at the auction recently, and I've acquired some excellent breeding stock." She stopped at the faint flicker of distaste that crossed Kate's mother's face, belatedly realizing that ladies of class were not interested in the actual workings of a horse ranch. "Everything's going along well. Appreciate you asking."

Kate's eyes sparkled with excitement as she rested her hand on Jessie's knee. Touching Jessie was so automatic she never considered not doing so. "Jessie has some wonderful plans for supplying horses not just to the stagecoach lines, but to cattlemen all over the territory who need horses to drive their herds east--"

"Really, Kate," Martha interrupted. "I should think such things would be of no interest to a young lady."

"Oh, no--that's one of the wonderful things about living out here.

Life is constantly changing. The West is growing, and we're right here to see it." She looked at Jessie--her love--with tender pride. "Jessie knows the land and the people. And what we need."

Blushing, but warmed by Kate's gaze, Jessie resisted the urge to take her lover's hand. She'd never been ashamed of what they shared, but she saw no need to force Kate's mother to witness what she so obviously wanted to pretend was not between them. Jessie still couldn't understand why anyone would resent something so beautiful and so precious as the love they shared, but she appreciated Kate's parents' concern for her welfare and her future. She intended to show them that they had nothing to worry about. She would take care of Kate as well as any man.

"If you still want to stop in at the store, Kate," Jessie said gently, "we should go so as not to be driving home too late. It still gets cold after sundown, and I don't want you getting chilled."

"We've blankets in the wagon, and I'm not going to be damaged by a little brisk air," Kate said.

"Jessie's right," Martha said in a rare moment of agreement. "You mustn't risk getting sick again." She'd not told Kate, but Jessie knew that the doctor had said Kate's recent brush with death had left her vulnerable. She'd recovered, almost miraculously, but she might not fare as well from another illness falling close upon the first.

Kate glanced from her mother to Jessie with affectionate irritation.

"I'm quite all right and quite capable of making my own decisions about when I come and go." Nevertheless, she squeezed Jessie's hand and rose to kiss her mother's cheek. "But I do want to do some shopping before we start back."

Jessie followed Kate and Martha to the door, not really listening as they made plans for some ladies' gathering or another. She was wondering how long she could put off riding out to check the line with her foreman Jed. There were scattered pockets of horses all through the foothills of her property, and she needed to check on the yearlings and foals. Plus, she wanted to cull the herds of the strongest brood mares to put under the new stallion she'd acquired. The only reason she hadn't set out immediately after the auction was that she didn't want to leave Kate alone at the ranch just yet. She snapped back to the moment as Martha Beecher spoke her name.

"Jessie," Martha said, "you will look after our Kate now, won't you?"

Despite Kate's exasperated sound of protest, Jessie nodded seriously. "You can be sure of it."

"You worry too much," Kate said as she walked to the buckboard with her hand in Jessie's. She lifted her arms to Jessie shoulders and allowed Jessie to lift her up to the seat. She could have climbed aboard herself, even in her dress, but she loved the feel of Jessie's arms around her and the effortless way she swung her up. She wished never to miss an opportunity for Jessie to touch her.

"I worry enough," Jessie said as she settled next to Kate and tucked the woolen blanket around her waist and legs, letting it drape onto the footboard.

Kate waved to her mother, who stood in the doorway, then slipped her hand onto Jessie's thigh as they pulled away from the front of the house. "Haven't I shown you these last few nights that I'm quite well again?"

Jessie drew a sharp breath as Kate's fingers danced over the inside of her leg. "Can't say as I'd mind you showing me again."

Laughing, Kate leaned her cheek against Jessie's shoulder. "Then take me home, sweetheart. We'll shop another day."

v The sound of slow, heavy footsteps brought Vance awake in the nearly black room.

"Dr. Melbourne," she said immediately as the door behind her opened, lest she startle whoever was entering and find herself taken for an intruder. She had no desire to be shot ever again. "I'm Vance Phelps."