"You were in love with a ghost. Are you still?"

She shook her head, biting into her lower lip as she met his eyes. His hands were still roaming sensually across her body. "I did love him. But…even on the awful day that we were married…I did want to marry you."

"Did you?"

He laid his head against her breast and used his tongue to stroke her through the soft fabric. Shannon forgot the question. Malachi did not.

"Did you?" he repeated.

"What?"

"Love me. You haven't said it, you know."

She smiled, trembling beneath him. "I love you, Captain Slater. I think I loved you all along."

"From that very first time you tried to shoot me?" he teased.

"Maybe. Malachi…"

"What?"

"Love me."

"It's been forever," he said huskily, lacing his fingers with hers, stretching out over her.

"It's been a week."

"A long week," he corrected her. And when he took her lips with his own, she saw he spoke the truth.

"Love me," she whispered to him once again.

So he did. The sound of the river came as the sweetest melody, and the grass beneath offered up the softest bedding. He laid his coat upon the ground and stripped her of her clothing piece by piece. She barely dared to move while he touched her, feeling as if time had come to a standstill between them, and that she might shatter some fantastic spell if she were to breathe. She waited. She waited for him to finish with her, and then to doff his own clothing, and to lie down beside her.

She wondered if anything would ever again be as beautiful as that day at that moment. The sun was warm upon her and the air was cool, and his body was a fervent flame of fire within and around her. He touched her with tenderness, and with searing passion. He led her to the brink of ecstasy, and back down, merely to stroke the flames one more time.

Then there was nothing while she soared. Climax burst upon her, and she felt the sweet rush of his release.

Once again, the earth existed. The sky, the river, the ground beneath them.

Shannon looked to her side and saw that his hat lay upon the ground, his fine, plumed Confederate cavalry captain's hat. She smiled, wondering how she had ever allowed the war to stand between them. She realized then that she loved him for everything that he was. A man, a Rebel, a knight in shining armor.

A hero.

No matter how many times she had needed him, he had come for her. He had never let her down.

She touched his cheek. "I do love you. I love you, Malachi Slater."

"Captain Slater."

She smiled.

"I can't change my part in the war, Shannon. Nor do I want to. I fought for what I believed."

"I know."

He hesitated, pulling her close beneath his chin. "The fighting isn't over, Shannon. Fitz is dead, but they'll still come for us." He paused again. "Matthew is going to ride for home tomorrow, Shannon. I'm going to send you with him."

"No!" she protested, sitting up.

He smiled and lazily ran a finger over her bare breast. "Shannon, Cole and Jamie and I have to leave the country. I don't know where we're going. I don't—"

"Kristin will go with Cole."

He shook his head gravely. "Kristin is going home to the baby, Shannon."

"Malachi—"

"No!" he said firmly. Standing up, he started to dress, tossing her her stockings. "Shannon, I have to know that you're safe. Do you understand? Get dressed. We should get back to the others."

"And what are we supposed to do?" Shannon demanded bitterly. "Just go home and wait for the years to go by?"

"We'll find a way to return."

"When?" Shannon demanded, wrenching her dress over her head. "Malachi, I don't mind—"

He caught her against him and kissed her. He broke away from her, smiling ruefully. "That is the only way to shut you up, you know."

"Malachi—"

"No." He kissed her again, then caught her hand, pulling her along.

"Wait!" Shannon cried. She pulled back, flushing as she did up the numerous little buttons on her gown.

He paused, looking around. Shannon was about to argue again when he suddenly went very tense and brought his fingers to his lip. He drew his gun, and pulling her behind him, crept along the trees.

A few minutes later, Shannon began to hear the sounds as well. There were men and horses deeper in the woods. She crept along beside Malachi until they neared a small encampment.

There were about fifteen of them, all dressed in clean blue uniforms. They were a cavalry unit, and a young group at that. Two of the men were cleaning their carbines; one leaned against a tree reading, and the others were finishing a meal, laughing and talking idly.

"Damn!" Malachi muttered. "We've got to slip back and get the others to move."

Shannon nodded. She turned around to hurry with him, then hesitated and looked back, anxious to see if they had been spotted. They had not. The men didn't even look up. She turned again to follow Malachi, well ahead of her now and running in a half crouch through the bracken. Suddenly, she screamed, crashing straight into a blue-clad soldier who appeared from behind a tree.

He gasped, as startled as she, and she realized that he had been taking care of personal business in the bushes.

"Excuse me!" Shannon muttered.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the man apologized. Then his eyes narrowed. "Hey, wait a minute," he began, his hand falling upon her shoulder.

"Let her go!" Malachi called out. He stood ahead of them, leveling his gun calmly at the man.

But by then all the young cavalry boys were up and stumbling around looking for their weapons, and the most prepared were already through the trees.

"Let her go!" Malachi insisted.

"Slater!" Someone called suddenly. Shannon saw that it was the officer in charge. And he must have known Malachi, because he raised his hands, displaying that he carried no weapon, and he walked forward.

"Captain Slater," the officer called, "I know you—"

"I don't know you."

"I know your brother Cole. I'm Major Kurt Taylor. We were together in the West before the war broke out." He hesitated. "I saw him in Kansas. Before he went up against Henry Fitz."

"Ain't that nice," Malachi drawled softly. "I don't want to hurt anybody, major. Tell him to let my wife go."

"Captain Slater, I know that you could shoot down half my boys in a matter of seconds."

"That's right. So let her go."

"Captain, we were sent to find you."

"What?" Malachi asked warily.

"Judge Sherman Woods sent us out. I can't make promises—"

"I wouldn't trust a promise from a Yank anyway," Malachi interrupted.

"You've got a beautiful wife, captain. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life running? Or do you want to take a minute and listen to me?"

"Start talking."

"I can't leave, captain. So to get away from me, you're going to have to kill these men. If you come in with me, I'll promise you and your brothers a fair trial."

"What's to make me think the Union will keep this promise?"

"You'll have to trust Judge Woods, Captain Slater. You went to him for help, and he wants to help. But you have to give him the chance to do so."

"I'm sorry—" Malachi began.

"Malachi!" Shannon cried in anguish. "Please! For God's sake, please! Give us this chance."

He was very still for a long time. Tall, proud, his Confederate greatcoat over his shoulders, his plumed hat waving in the breeze. His jaw was hard, his eyes cold, his chin rigid and high.

Then he exhaled and tossed his gun down.

"I couldn't shoot those boys anyway," he said quietly. "I just couldn't kill any more damned children. They say that the war is over. Major, we'll have to see if it is."

Major Taylor nodded. "Captain, will you do something for me?"

"What's that?"

"Go talk to your brothers. If I can, I'd like to avoid being a target for a Slater."

Malachi nodded. He reached out a hand to Shannon, and she ran to his side. Together, they walked through the woods with Major Taylor behind them.

When they reached the others, Jamie instantly drew his gun. Cole and Matthew followed suit.

"Kurt!" Cole said, slowly lowering his Colt. "What's going on?'' he asked Malachi.

"You do know this fellow?" Malachi asked Cole.

Cole nodded. "What—"

"Judge Woods sent me out to find you. We'll give you a fair trial in Missouri. It will be fair, I swear it on my honor."

Cole looked at Malachi, a question in his eyes.

"I'm tired of running," Malachi said. "And honor is honor. Blue or gray. I believe this man has some. I've already surrendered to him."

"Well," said Cole, "it's what we wanted when we talked to Judge Woods. Jamie?"

Jamie shrugged his shoulders. "I don't trust Yankee honor much, but I'll go with you and Malachi, Cole."

The two men dropped their guns on the ground.

"I just hope I don't end up hanging," Jamie muttered.

"You won't hang!" Shannon cried. She clung to Mala-chi's hand. She wouldn't let him hang. She couldn't.

Malachi turned to her. He swept off his hat and took her into his arms and kissed her long and deep for everyone to see. Then he broke away from her, replacing his hat on his head. He strode over to the bay and mounted. "Whenever you're ready, major. Your prisoner, sir." He saluted sharply.

Major Taylor saluted in return.

Cole kissed Kristin, and he and Jamie followed Malachi's lead, mounting their horses.