He did. He nodded once and then turned to go, but he paused at the door. "Say, do you know of a place where I could get my picture made?" he asked.

The operator considered. "Can't say that I do. Hasn't been a photographer around here in more than a year."

The man shrugged resignedly. "Thanks," he said, and then he left, closing the door softly behind him.

Chapter Two

Dawn had barely broken as Josh made his way across the muddy ranch yard. The rain had stopped sometime during the night, and the day promised to be fine. Josh should have been in a good mood this morning, having noted that the storm had done little damage to the ranch buildings and that the rich prairie grasses were already beginning to green up. Spring would be here soon, the time of the year when he felt most alive, most in tune with the land. Yes, he would have taken great pleasure in this sparkling, rain-washed morning except that Candace had run him out of the house the night before, forcing him to sleep in the bunkhouse with the other men. He'd gotten another lecture on propriety which he did not need, and this morning he had awakened to discover he had forgotten to bring clean socks with him.

In a foul humor, he stomped up the ranch house steps. Candace met him at the door, a disapproving scowl marring her majestic features.

"I forgot my socks," Josh said, annoyed that he now must make excuses to enter his own home.

"Wait here. I'll get them for you," Candace said, swiftly disappearing into his bedroom, the room next to the one where the girl slept.

"How's she doing?" he asked when Candace returned and handed him the neatly rolled socks.

"Haven't heard a peep out of her since yesterday afternoon," Candace reported.

Josh frowned. "Shouldn't somebody check on her?"

Candace raised her eyebrows in shocked surprise. "Ain't nobody going into that girl's bedroom 'long as I'm walking around on two feet," she informed him.

Josh considered explaining that he hadn't planned on doing so himself, but decided that arguing with Candace when she was in this mood was a definite waste of time. Still, somebody ought to check in case the girl was sick or something.

Candace interrupted his thoughts. "Get along now. Breakfast'll be ready soon, but don't come till Cookie calls. And tell the men to use the back door and to be mighty quiet when they come in the house."

Grunting his agreement, Josh headed back down the stairs, but he paused as he reached the last step. Damn it, somebody ought to check on the girl. For all anyone knew, she could be dead. Turning with renewed purpose, he climbed the stairs again, prepared to assert his authority over his recalcitrant mammy. But she had disappeared. Josh opened his mouth to call her back, then quickly closed it again. If he yelled, he might disturb the girl. Besides, why get into a flap with Candace? He'd just peek in on the girl himself, satisfy his concerns, and be on his way.

Quietly, so he would not wake the girl, he stole over to the bedroom door. Turning the knob with infinite care, he pushed the door open just a crack, just until he could see her where she lay on the bed.

Her back was to him and she had the covers pulled up to her chin so only that mop of golden hair was visible. From here he couldn't even tell if she was breathing. Tiptoeing, he entered the room, stopping a respectable distance from the bed, and peered over the hump of her shoulder. She looked even more like a child this morning, he thought, with her face flushed from sleep and one delicate hand curled against her cheek. When those blue eyes were closed, he could almost forget how attractive he'd found her as a woman.

Almost.

After a moment, he could see the rhythm of her breathing as the bedclothes rose and fell almost inperceptibly. Well, at least she was alive. She looked a lot less exhausted, too, and the purple smudges under her eyes had disappeared. Now all she needed was a little fattening up, and she'd be as good as new.

Suddenly, Josh knew an overwhelming urge to stroke the top of her head, where the hair lay burnished against her skin, or stroke her cheek to see if it was really as soft as it looked. Caught unawares, he almost gave in to that urge before his common sense warned him away. Sure as hellfire, if he touched her, she would wake up, and Lord only knew what she would think. And if Candace found out, she'd raise the roof, and rightly so.

Turning quickly, Josh was just about to leave as stealthily as he had entered when he caught sight of her dress hanging on a peg by the door, where Candace had put it to dry. He stared at the dress for a long moment, unconsciously visualizing the girl in the bed without it. Was the rest of her as soft and golden as her face? Painfully aware of how close she lay-so close he could almost imagine the heat from her body reaching out to warm him-he had to strain every nerve to keep from going back to find out.

This is crazy! he told himself sternly, taking a firm grip on the socks he still held in an attempt to resist the compelling temptation. Using all his willpower, he forced his feet to move away from her and toward the door. As he got closer to where the dress hung, he tried to focus on it as just a garment, but when he did, that made him think of something else. Noticing once again how ragged and worn the dress was and remembering how pathetic it had looked hanging on her slender body, Josh knew that he never wanted to see the thing again. Snatching it from its hook, he was about to carry it out and burn it when he remembered something else: Without the dress, she would have nothing else to wear. Although he had already told some of the men to go out and fetch her wagon and the rest of her things as soon as the ground was dry enough, he had no way of knowing if those "things" included a dress of which he would approve.

No, he decided, he would not take the chance on what else her wardrobe might contain. It was still early. He would have plenty of time to take care of this. If he was quick, he might even get back before she woke up, and she wouldn't even have a moment of apprehension. As an afterthought, he reached down and picked up her shoes, too, from where she had set them neatly beside the dress. Pulling the door shut carefully behind him, Josh grinned to himself. This would make her happy.

It never occurred to him to wonder why that should matter to him.


Felicity sat bolt-upright on the bed, her heart pounding wildly in her chest, every muscle strained for flight. But the wolves were gone and the night had turned to day and the cramped interior of the wagon was now a spacious bedroom. Her body sagging with relief, Felicity whispered a prayer of thanks that her fears had only been phantoms in a dream, and that she was, at least for the moment, safe.

As her heartbeat and her breathing settled back down to normal, Felicity glanced around the cheerful room and considered her situation. She need no longer fear wild animals or starvation, but her father had taught her that civilization held its own set of dangers. As kind as everyone at this ranch had been to her so far, they were still all strangers to her. She could not plan on their generosity for much longer. Soon she would have to make her own way in the world, but the thought filled her with a nameless dread. If she left this place, where could she go? And how? The sad truth was that she didn't even know where she was to begin with, and had no idea where she might go.

Sighing with frustration, she threw back the covers and swung her feet to the floor. She should be counting her blessings instead of worrying herself to death, she decided. For the first time in weeks she had a place to stay and food to eat and people-nice people-to take care of her. The terror that she had felt at being alone was gone, and the terror of facing what lay ahead was something she need not consider just yet. For this time, at least, she was safe. She would be grateful for that.

Determined not to let her fears spoil this glorious day, Felicity climbed out of the big bed and rose unsteadily to her feet. She had to wait a minute for her head to clear from having risen so suddenly, but when it had, she felt remarkably strong and alive. Drawn by the irresistible lure of the sunlight, she moved over to the window and pulled the curtain back a bit to peer out. What she saw pleased her very much.

Mr. Logan certainly knew how to run a ranch. The buildings, from her vantage point at least, appeared to be in good repair, and the corral fences were strong and straight. Felicity had seen enough ranches where the buildings were tumbling down and the fences were patched and held together with spit and rawhide to know a well-run operation when she saw one. This was the kind of ranch she and her father loved to come across because the owners took pride in their possessions and were both willing and eager to have them immortalized in photographs. Not only would a ranch like this provide enough work to support her and her father for weeks, but the owners would usually insist that the Storms stay around for a few days as guests. That meant good food, free food, a real blessing for folks whose only home was a wagon.

Maybe Mr. Logan would like for her to take some photographs of his ranch. She would be happy to, and she wouldn't even charge him, except maybe for the chemicals. That would be a way to thank him for all he had done for her.

Josh glanced back over his shoulder as he reentered the house and tried to judge the hour by the position of the sun. If his estimate was correct, he had made the trip to town and back in record time. He had left a lathered horse at the corral for one of the men to cool down for him, and he was carrying a rather large package.