"Blanche," Josh said in warning, but his voice was so soft that she almost didn't hear him.

"Miz Blanche, please don't," Candace chastened gently, and Blanche turned away from the bed to dispose of the bandages, wagging her head in disapproval. As soon as she had heard the news about Candace's kidnapping, she and Asa had ridden to the Rocking L, making themselves available to help in any way. Mostly they had simply waited until the bedraggled but victorious Rocking L crew had ridden in late the next morning.

Blanche did not think she would ever forget the sight of that black man cradling Josh's limp body as gently as if he had been a sleeping child. The men told her that after the fight, Jeremiah had carried his wounded brother down the steep trail and all the long ride home, permitting no one to relieve him of his burden.

Jeremiah now waited out in the parlor, refusing to leave even though every minute he spent at the ranch increased his chances of being recognized and arrested. He would not go until he was certain Josh would recover his wound. Unfortunately, Blanche could not yet give him such an assurance.

She slipped quietly out of the sickroom into the parlor, where Jeremiah, Asa, and several of the other men waited anxiously.

"How is he?" Asa asked as soon as she appeared.

"The wound is festering. He's running a high fever, and he's lost a lot of blood. He's so weak…" She let her voice trail off, unwilling to speak aloud of the danger they all understood too well.

"We ought to send for Felicity," Asa insisted, but Blanche quickly shushed him.

"Not so loud! He'll hear you. The last time I mentioned it, he almost got up out of the bed to stop me. He's so worried about that girl that if he even thinks we've sent for her, I don't know what he'll do. Besides, if he…" Her voice caught and she turned away, discreetly wiping the moisture from her eyes. "Felicity might not be able to get here in time anyway."

Her husband came and put his arm around her shoulders in a comforting gesture.

Back in the bedroom, Candace tenderly adjusted the covers over her patient, reminding Josh of the many times she had performed that task for him when he was a young child. He managed another weak smile before his feverish thoughts returned to his main concern. "Don't let them send for her," he murmured.

"I won't," Candace promised, smoothing the silver hair from his burning brow.

"It's too dangerous for her to travel, and I don't want her upset…" he continued.

"Shhh, don't talk," Candace soothed, but he could not hear her. He had slipped into delirium.

"She can't lose the baby," he muttered. "She'll never forgive me…"

"She won't lose it," Candace crooned. "Be quiet now." She stayed with him until he settled into a deep sleep, and then she joined the others in the parlor.

Everyone's gaze immediately flew to her as she came out of the bedroom. "He's sleeping now," she reported reassuringly.

"Candace, you'd better get some rest yourself," Blanche urged, wondering at the older woman's stamina. In spite of the fact that Candace had been kidnapped, carried off into wild country, held prisoner by men intent on killing her, and then had ridden back home again without one moment's sleep, she still looked as dauntless as ever.

Candace was shaking her head to Blanche's suggestion. "I've got to make some soup for when Mr. Josh wakes up again…"

"I can make soup, and you won't be able to do anything if you keel over dead of exhaustion," Blanche warned. "Jeremiah, take your mother out to her cabin and see that she goes to bed."

Jeremiah looked up in surprise. For a moment Blanche thought he might resent being ordered about, but she quickly realized he was only amazed at being entrusted with such a responsibility.

"She's right, Mama. You're dead on your feet. You won't be any help to Josh if you get sick, too." Now Candace was equally amazed by her son's concern, although she readily admitted she shouldn't have been. After all, hadn't he saved her life at the risk of his own during the shoot-out at the outlaws' camp? And hadn't he cared for Josh the way a true brother would have? Candace allowed her tall son to lead her from the room.

Asa turned to his wife. "I'll sit with him while you make the soup, and then you need to get some rest, too." Blanche nodded, remembering her own delicate condition, which she had only recently confided to Asa. "And I still say we should send for Felicity," he added as he moved toward the bedroom door.

Blanche agreed, of course, but Josh's reasoning was also sound. If they sent for her now, she would rush right back, having only just arrived in Philadelphia. She would be frightened and worried, and the added strain of the round trip might bring about a miscarriage. But as Blanche had pointed out to the men, even if Felicity came straight back, she might not arrive in time. And if Josh pulled through, she would have made the dangerous trip for nothing. No, Josh was right. They should wait and see what happened. And pray. A lot.


"Mr. Winthrop is here to see you, ma'am," Bellwood announced.

Felicity looked up from her letter writing and smiled, grateful for the interruption. Now that even Mademoiselle Fabian's creations could no longer conceal her condition, Felicity was confined to the luxurious imprisonment of her grandfather's townhouse. Because of that she found it increasingly difficult to think of anything to write to Blanche, who had so faithfully written to her during the two and a half months she had been in Philadelphia. Richard's visit was a welcome diversion.

"Tell Mr. Winthrop to come in," she said to Bellwood, pushing aside the letter she had been composing. As she waited for Richard, she absently stroked the enormous mound of her stomach and thought for the thousandth painful time of her child's father. In spite of Joshua's promise to arrive long before the baby was born, only a few short weeks now remained before her due date. Since Joshua was well aware that her first baby had arrived almost a month early, he had already broken his promise.

She thought back on the few letters she had received from him. For the first month, he had written not a line, and strangely, Blanche had corresponded faithfully, assuring Felicity that she and Asa were fine, and Candace was fine, and all the ranch hands were fine, and Joshua was fine. Then Joshua had finally written himself, but such terse and formal notes that Felicity almost would have preferred not hearing anything at all. All his letters said that he was fine, too, but they said little else. He never even mentioned whether he missed her and when or if he was coming. If he was so damn fine, where was he?

Unwilling to admit the probable answer to that question, Felicity smiled gratefully as Richard entered the rear parlor, where she now spent most of her days idling away the remainder of her pregnancy. "Richard!" she greeted him, rising and offering her cheek. His kiss was brotherly, as his behavior had been for the past months. Occasionally Felicity caught him looking at her with what could only be called yearning, but he had kept his promise never to mention his love for her again. Consequently, he had won her affection as well as her gratitude. "You're just in time for supper."

"I know," he replied with a mischievous grin. "Only, when are you going to remember that we call the evening meal 'dinner' here? If you're going to be living in the East, you must learn our customs…"

Felicity's quick frown surprised him into silence. "What makes you think I'm going to be living here?" she asked defensively, wondering if he knew something about Joshua's failure to arrive that she didn't.

"I… I'm sorry," Richard stammered, instantly sorry for letting such a remark slip out because he knew how upset she became over any mention of the length of her visit here. He and his uncle had long ago decided that there was something seriously wrong between Felicity and her husband, but they had also decided that the best way to deal with that knowledge was to ignore it until she spoke of it first. "I guess I was just speaking of my own personal wishes."

"You know I'm only here until the baby comes," she chided him, moving restlessly around the room as her own private doubts tortured her. "Then Joshua will come and take me home…"

But Richard was beginning to have his own doubts. Perhaps this was the moment for which he had been waiting. "Will he?" Richard challenged.

Felicity whirled to face him, her heart pounding in fear. Richard did know something! "Yes, he will," she insisted, as much to convince herself as to convince Richard. "He promised."

"Then where is he?" Richard asked angrily, unable to hide his emotions any longer. "Felicity, if he was coming, he would have been here by now. I wrote to him myself, almost a month ago, telling him that if he was any kind of a man at all, he'd be here with you, and he still didn't come!"

"No! I won't listen," Felicity cried, dashing tears from her eyes. Surrendering to the urge to flee from this unbearable discussion, she made a lunge for the door, but Richard caught her.

"You have to listen, my darling," he urged, holding her in spite of her struggles to get free. "Please, calm down. You mustn't upset yourself."

That much was true, and with great effort, Felicity managed to regain her control. "You can let me go now, Richard," she said after a moment. Her voice quivered only slightly.

"Please, sit down," he begged, leading her over to a nearby chair. She obeyed, continuing to fight the battle against tears. "You know I don't want to upset you," he said, and Felicity believed him. He never so much as alluded to her pregnancy, but he was unfailingly solicitous of her comfort. He would do nothing to cause her distress if he could possibly avoid it. So why was he doing so now? "You have to accept the facts, darling," he said, answering her unasked question as he knelt beside her chair. "Your husband has sent you to us, placed you in our care with no intention of claiming you again. You must make some plans."