The decision was taken out of her hands when he excused himself shortly after dinner and retired to his room. She spent the evening working in the study, trying hard not to feel disappointed. Or confused. Surely it was better this way.

"Andrew and Nathan appear to have taken quite a shine to Mr. Barrettson," Aunt Olivia remarked, interrupting Hayley's thoughts.

"Yes, they have."

"And Mr. Barrettson seems to like them as well," Pamela added, refilling Hayley's cup.

"Truss me to the port beam and slap me with the sextant!" Winston boomed. "Why wouldn't 'e like the lads? They're fine boys, just like their Pa, God rest his soul. Why if that bloody bum don't like those boys, I'll make 'im walk the plank." He glared at Grimsley. "You fixin' to argue about that, ya skinny runt?"

Grimsley tugged his jacket into place. "Certainly not, although I can't imagine where we'd find a plank to walk."

"You couldn't find a plank if it smacked ya in the head," Winston grumbled.

"I know where there's a plank," Callie chimed in, cradling Miss Josephine in her arms. "There's a nice big plank outside, next to the chicken coop." She turned to Winston. "We saw it the other day, Winston. You tripped on it and fell facedown in the chicken droppings. Don't you remember? That's when you hollered, 'bloody damn piece of wood! Son of a-'"

"Callie!" Hayley interrupted hastily. "I'm certain Winston didn't mean to say such inappropriate words." She fixed him with a meaningful glare. "Did you, Winston?"

Winston's scowl clearly indicated he'd meant every word and then some, but his expression softened when he glanced at Callie. "Sorry," he muttered. "Forgot the wee tyke was about."

Grimsley mumbled something under his breath, and started clearing the table. Hayley huffed out a breath, prayed for strength, and changed the subject.

"What do you suppose they're planning to do today?" she asked. "I hope Andrew and Nathan aren't planning anything too physically taxing. I'm sure Ste- Mr. Barrettson's ribs are still tender, and his shoulder is not yet fully healed."

"Mr. Barrettson appears a most healthy specimen," Pamela said with a teasing grin. "I'm certain he can handle Andrew and Nathan."

"Oh, yes indeed," Aunt Olivia added. "Mr. Barrettson is quite a fine specimen of manhood. So handsome and broad-shouldered. Don't you agree, Hayley dear?"

Hellfires burned in Hayley's cheeks. "Er, yes. He is quite a, er… fine specimen."

"And he's very charming," Aunt Olivia went on, clearly oblivious to Hayley's discomfort.

"I wasn't aware you'd spent so much time with him, Aunt Olivia," Hayley stated in a loud voice.

Her aunt picked up her needlework. "Oh, yes, we had a fine time together yesterday afternoon. While you and the children were visiting the stables, Mr. Barrettson helped me with my chores."

Hayley and Pamela exchanged a puzzled look. "But it was your turn to dust the library," Pamela said.

A broad smile lit Aunt Olivia's face. "Indeed. Mr. Barrettson wields a feather duster quite well, and he can reach much higher than I can. Oh, I admit at first he seemed somewhat reluctant, horrified actually, but the dear boy caught on quickly."

"How did you manage to convince him to dust?" Hayley asked, highly amused.

"Why, I simply handed him the duster and asked for his assistance." Aunt Olivia fixed a pointed look on Hayley. "If you want something, my dear Hayley, you need to make your wishes known. Mr. Barrettson isn't a mind reader, after all."

Hayley stared at her aunt, and wondered if they were still discussing dusting. Before she had a chance to speak, Aunt Olivia returned her attention to her needlework, and Hayley let the subject drop before her cheeks truly caught fire.

Soon thereafter, Pamela and Hayley left the dining room and, with Callie in tow, headed toward the lake. Callie set up her easel, and Hayley and Pamela sat on the grass, enjoying the warm breeze and the unusual, but welcome, peace and quiet that came from their brothers' absence.

"Are you looking forward to Lorelei Smythe's party?" Pamela asked, picking a long blade of grass and twirling it between her fingers.

Hayley grimaced and looked heavenward. "I'd rather bathe Stinky. That woman makes me feel like a large, gauche, impolite, unwanted interloper every time we meet." She slid a sidelong glance at Pamela. "Of course, I shall endeavor to bear her company for your sake. I would never deny you the pleasure of attending the party, especially since a certain handsome young doctor will be there."

A furious blush stained Pamela's cheeks. "Oh, Hayley, I nearly died when Marshall saw me at the lake the other day looking like a drowned cat. Heaven only knows what he thought."

"He couldn't take his eyes off you," Hayley assured her.

"He couldn't believe how horrid I looked."

"He couldn't believe how beautiful you were, even wet and wearing a ragged quilt."

"Do you really think so?" Pamela asked, her eyes alight with hope.

"His adoration for you is so apparent, Pamela, even Grimsley noticed it-without the aid of his spectacles. Trust me. Marshall Wentbridge is a man besotted." You'll soon be happily wed, leading a normal life-everything I want for you.

Pamela hugged her arms around herself and heaved a blissful sigh. "Oh, Hayley, I hope you're right. He's just the most wonderful man. So kind and handsome. He leaves me…"Her voice trailed off.

"Breathless?" Hayley supplied, knowing the feeling all too well.

"Exactly."

"And your heart speeds up and you can barely think whenever he's near you," Hayley murmured softly, her thoughts drifting away. A series of images of Stephen flashed through her mind-Stephen holding up a string of fish, Stephen laughing, Stephen leaning over her to brush his mouth across hers.

"Yes," Pamela said, jerking Hayley back to the present. "That's exactly how Marshall makes me feel. How did you know?"

Embarrassed by her unguarded words, Hayley stared down at her hands and remained silent.

Pamela reached out to touch Hayley's sleeve. "Is that how Mr. Popplemore made you feel, Hayley?" she asked, her voice quiet with sympathy.

"No," Hayley denied quickly with a frown. "Jeremy never affected my heart rate, nor my ability to think."

"Then who…?" Pamela's eyes grew round and she stared at Hayley. "Does Mr. Barrettson make you feel that way? The way Marshall makes me feel?"

Hayley didn't answer for a moment, afraid to say the words out loud, even to Pamela, but she was unwilling to add to her long list of lies. "Yes. I'm afraid so."

A sunny smile broke over Pamela's face. "Hayley! How wonderful! I'm so happy you found someone to care for. I-"

"I care for him," Hayley interrupted her sister's enthusiastic words. "I didn't say he cared for me."

Pamela grabbed Hayley's hands and squeezed them. "Don't be silly. How could he not care for you? You saved his life. You're beautiful, and loving, and unselfish-"

"Pamela." Hayley's single word cut off her sister. "I appreciate what you're saying, but you must face the facts, as I have had to. Stephen is leaving here very soon. He has a job far away from here, and once he leaves we'll probably never see him again. I know he's grateful to us, but that is all."

"Perhaps he'll change his mind about his job and decide to stay here," Pamela suggested. "Surely he wouldn't leave if he falls in love. He could tutor children right here in Halstead."

"Stephen hasn't given me any indication he intends to change his plans."

"Perhaps he would if he knew you cared for him."

"No!" Hayley practically shouted. "I mean, he must know that I like him-"

"Does he know that you love him?" Pamela asked. "Do you love him?"

Hayley's heart banged against her ribs. "No. And yes. No, he doesn't know, and yes, I do. I …love him." Saying the words out loud filled her with both relief and sadness. "But surely you can see how hopeless this is. I'm not a young woman-"

"You're only six and twenty!"

Hayley smiled at her sister's loyalty. "I'm far past the first bloom of youth, Pamela. And a man like Stephen …well, clearly he could have any woman he wants."

"And if he wants you?" Pamela asked softly.

Hayley shook her head and didn't answer. Even if Stephen should want her, she had far too many responsibilities and secrets to consider sharing her life with anyone.

"I wish I could help you, Hayley. You're always doing for other people, never asking anything for yourself. For the first time, you want something. I pray you get it."

Hayley's insides melted. Dear Pamela. "You help me by being happy, and sharing that happiness with me," she said sincerely. "I've changed my mind. I cannot wait to attend Lorelei's party if for no other reason than to see Marshall Wentbridge's eyes pop out when he sees you in your lovely new gown."

Pamela blushed. "Thank you for buying it for me. It's so lovely."

Hayley leaned over and kissed her sister's pink cheek. "So are you, Pamela. So are you."

"Well, I'm going to keep my fingers crossed that Mr. Barrettson realizes how wonderful you are and decides to remain in Halstead," Pamela said. "Maybe if we both wish hard enough, it will happen."

"What will happen?" Callie asked, joining them. "What are we wishing for? I love to make wishes."

Hayley stroked the child's dark curls. "We're wishing for love. And happiness."

Callie wrapped her chubby little arms around Hayley and hugged her fiercely. "I love you both, and I'm very happy."

Hayley and Pamela laughed. "See there?" Hayley said. "You just made all our wishes come true." She dropped a kiss into Callie's hair. "Shall we pack up your easel, then try to discover what those brothers of ours are up to, and what mischief they've dragged poor Mr. Barrettson into?"