Prince Charming

Chapter 19

The following morning, Taylor put her plan into action. She was going to be the perfect wife, mother, and frontierswoman. She got out of bed an hour earlier than usual and had breakfast ready when the rest of the family stirred. If Lucas was surprised to see her working so diligently, he didn't show it.

After they'd eaten and the children had gone outside with Victoria, Lucas told Taylor he was leaving. "A man passing through told Frank there was a federal judge hearing cases in Rosewood the rest of this week and all of the next. If I press, I might be able to get the custody papers ready and the petition heard right away."

"Shouldn't I go with you?"

Lucas shook his head. "I don't think you need to," he said.

She didn't agree. Surely she would need to testify and sign the papers. She didn't argue with Lucas, however, because he assured her that the judge was going on to Virginia City after Rosewood and if she was needed, he would take her there.

Taylor helped him pack and then followed him outside. Hunter had already saddled his horse for him. He handed the reins to Lucas and then walked away so that they could have a few minutes of privacy.

"Please be careful."

Lucas had been waiting for her to give him the order, and yet he was still surprised by how good it felt to hear her say the words. He didn't think he was ever going to get used to her worrying about him. Her love still overwhelmed him.

"I'll be careful," he promised. He leaned down and kissed her good-bye. When he pulled back, she sagged against him. "After we get custody of the twins, I'm going to find out what we have to do to make the boy legally ours."

She thought that was such a wonderful idea, tears came into her eyes. Lucas called the children over then and explained that he was leaving for a few days. He kissed the three of them, then told them all to mind their mother. Taylor noticed he stared at Georgie when he gave the order.

Allie cried when he left, then her sister joined in. Taylor didn't try to hush the little girls. They were doing exactly what she wanted to do. She said a prayer he wouldn't be gone long and then went back to work.

During his absence, Taylor put in a summer garden of cabbage, peas, turnips, and onions. Roily stopped by to bring her a surprise, a second rocking chair identical to the first that he had started work on months ago and never got around to finishing. He thought Victoria might want to rock at the same time Taylor was using her rocker. She was thrilled with the gift, and after she'd given him sufficient praise and accepted the fact that he wasn't going to take any money for the chair no matter how long and hard she argued with him, she changed the topic to her garden and asked his advice.

Roily ended up helping her with the chore. He made her dig up all the onions. They were buried so deep, they would never find their way up to the sun, he explained. It took her two full days of working from sunup to sundown to finish the garden.

Roily put up wire fencing around the perimeter. He warned her the fence wouldn't keep out the rabbits, but he didn't have any suggestions to offer as to how she could keep them from eating the vegetables.

Victoria and Hunter usually went outside after supper while Taylor put the children to bed. The task shouldn't have taken her any time at all, but getting the twins to cooperate took at least an hour. Neither one of the little girls paid any attention to a word she said, and she didn't know what she could do to make them obey.

After they finally fell asleep, she turned her attention to Daniel. The bedtime stories were their special time together. The only problem was that she was running out of tales about Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett. She had already shortened her son's name to Daniel, and since he never corrected her, she thought he might be leaning toward that name. Yet when she asked him if he was going to choose Daniel or David, he shook his head and told her he hadn't made up his mind yet.

She tucked her son under the covers and fell asleep on the mat next to him. Hunter shook her awake. Victoria had sent him upstairs to make certain she was in the house. Taylor staggered to her feet. Hunter latched onto her arm on the way down the stairs so she wouldn't topple over.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" Hunter asked

Taylor collapsed in the rocking chair and wearily began to unbraid her hair.

"Keep what up?" she asked.

"You're working yourself to death," Hunter explained.

"You are, Taylor," Victoria agreed.

"I'm just a little tired tonight," Taylor admitted. "After I get into a routine and do what I'm supposed to do each day of the week, I'll be more organized and less weary. Everything takes twice as long now but that's only because I'm learning as I go along. Making soap should have only taken one day but it took me three."

"Are you saying you are supposed to do certain chores on certain days?" Victoria asked. She glanced at Hunter to see if he knew what she was talking about. He wasn't paying Victoria any attention, however, for he was frowning down at Taylor.

"Yes, of course," Taylor answered. "The women in the wilderness have set days for each chore. Monday is wash day and Tuesday is ironing. Wednesday is baking day and…"

"For the love of God," Hunter muttered. "Where did you hear this nonsense?"

Taylor took exception to his tone of voice and his obvious ridicule. "I read it in Mrs. Livingston's journal. It seems very reasonable to me."

Victoria sat down on the bench and folded her hands together in her lap. "You're killing yourself," she told her friend. "You put in a garden, unpacked all the trunks, washed clothes, and made enough soap to last us three years."

"But I won't have to make it again for a long time," Taylor hastily pointed out.

Victoria turned to Hunter. "She mentioned she was going to make candles tomorrow. I can't imagine why we need them. We have plenty of lanterns."

Hunter kept his gaze on Taylor. "Exactly what is it you're trying to prove?"

She was too exhausted to lie or give him a clever half-truth. "That I'm not fragile."

He was taken aback by her answer. His eyes widened, and he almost smiled. She sure as certain looked fragile to him tonight. She looked half dead to him. Her complexion was as pale as flour and she had dark smudges under her eyes.

"Who said you were fragile?" he asked, already guessing the answer.

Victoria answered him. "I'll bet Lucas did."

Taylor nodded. "I want him to realize I'm capable of making it here."

"And then he won't make you leave," Victoria said with a nod.

"Yes."

"If that isn't-" Hunter began.

Taylor interrupted him. "I would appreciate it if neither one of you mentioned this conversation to my husband. I want him to see for himself that I'm strong and determined… and happy, damn it. Now if you'll both excuse me, I'm going to bed. I've had a long day."

"Why bother going to bed?" Hunter asked. "You'll be getting up in another hour."

She had secretly asked herself that question a dozen times in the last week. It did seem to her that as soon as her head hit the pillow and she closed her eyes, the sun was starting to climb back up in the sky.

"There is no need for sarcasm," she muttered.

She went into Victoria's room to wash and change into her nightgown. When she heard the front door close, she came back out.

Victoria had thoughtfully pulled the covers back on her bed for her. A faint blush covered her cheeks, and Taylor thought perhaps Hunter had kissed her again.

"How are things going with you and Hunter?" she asked. "Are you getting along?"

"Get into bed first. You look dead on your feet," her friend advised.

Taylor did as she was told. She smiled when Victoria tucked the covers around her. It felt nice to have someone look after her for a change. She patted a spot next to her on the bed and moved her legs out of the way so Victoria could sit down.

Her friend answered the question Taylor wanted to ask but knew she shouldn't.

"He kisses me good night every single night," her friend whispered. "Sometimes more than once. He doesn't seem to notice I'm getting big and awkward and ugly."

"You are radiant, not ugly, and that is what he sees."

"He still says he's leaving as soon as the baby arrives."

"He could change his mind."

Victoria nodded agreement, but the look on her face indicated she didn't believe it.

"Taylor, what can I do to help you?"

"Give me some advice," she answered. "Tell me what to do about Georgie and Allie. Be completely honest and tell me what you think of their behavior. They're old enough to listen and obey a few simple rules, aren't they?"

Victoria smiled. "You know I love and cherish Daniel and the girls, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Taylor replied.

"Daniel is such a delight. He's getting more opinionated and stubborn, I've noticed, but he listens to reason. He certainly isn't a problem. But the twins…"

"Yes?"

Victoria let out a sigh. "They're little hellions."

Taylor was in full agreement, yet as the twins' mother, she felt it necessary to defend the little girls. "They aren't always hellions. They listen to Lucas and Hunter. When one of them tells Georgie to get down off the table, she immediately obeys. They don't threaten her or plead with her and I know she isn't afraid of either one of them. She wouldn't be so sassy around them if she were afraid."

Taylor sounded bewildered. Victoria smiled in response. "It isn't the end of the world."

"They could drive a mother to drink," Taylor whispered.

Victoria laughed. "I'm certainly not an expert, but I do know this. You have to start saying no, and you have to mean it. You can't reason or negotiate with a two-year-old."

"I keep forgetting that," Taylor admitted. "I do try to reason with them."

"You try to placate them, too," Victoria told her. "They're old enough to understand certain rules. They're very intelligent." She sighed and added, "And adorable. It's difficult to say no when one of them is looking up with those big blue eyes and the tears start rolling down her cheeks."

Taylor knew what she was talking about. It was difficult not to give in.

"They are intelligent, and you're right, Victoria. I am going to have to be more assertive. They'll be completely out of hand if I don't."

After her friend went to bed, Taylor thought about the changes she was going to have to make to get the twins' attention. She fell asleep fretting, for the truth was difficult for any mother to admit, even an inept, thoroughly inexperienced one.

Her babies were brats.

Callaghan moved in the following night. Taylor rolled over in her bed, opened her eyes, and very nearly died of fright. The mountain man was sitting at her kitchen table, shoving day-old biscuits in his mouth two at a time.

A scream gathered in her throat, and her heart felt as though it had just stopped beating. Then his scent hit her, and she knew she wasn't going to die of fright at all. His smell would do her in. It was vile and rank and reminded her of skunks.

Taylor had never smelled anything like it. The stench made her eyes water and her stomach lurch. She didn't dare scream now. She'd have to take a deep breath first, and she simply didn't have the courage. She held the covers tight over her nose and her mouth and took tiny little pants of air while she stared at the deranged-looking man.

Callaghan. She remembered his name. She remembered Lucas's warning as well. He'd told her his stench would knock her over. He'd been right about that. He'd also told her he wasn't dangerous. She hoped to God he was also right about that.

He looked dangerous and wild. He was a good-sized man, but because he was hunched over the table, she couldn't guess his exact height. He wore dark brown buckskin pants and shirt and black boots with fur around the tops. His hair was long, stringy, and brown. She didn't know if that was his true hair color or if it was just as filthy as the rest of him and stained from years of going without a good scrubbing.

He turned and looked at her. She stared back. She wasn't at all afraid now. She knew that if she needed help, all she had to do was shout. Hunter was sleeping outside under the stars. He'd come running.

Callaghan wasn't a deranged maniac. His eyes were clear as day. She saw curiosity in his gaze and something else that started her temper boiling. There was a definite sparkle in those golden brown eyes.

"Aren't you going to scream?"

He asked her the question in a raspy voice filled with amusement. She shook her head no. He smiled, displaying brilliant white teeth, then turned back to the pan of half-eaten biscuits. He popped one into his mouth. "Needs salt."

Taylor finally got her wits back. She jumped out of bed, snatched the robe from where she'd left it draped over the back of one of the rockers, and hurriedly put it on.

Her gun was on the mantel. She edged her way close to the hearth to get the weapon just in case he turned hostile when she told him he was going to have to leave.

"Why did you think I would scream?"

"Most do," he answered with a shrug.

"And then what happens?"

"Their men throw me out. I don't stay out though. I come back inside. Yeap, I always do."

"When do you go back to the mountains?"

Taylor reached up to grab hold of her gun and only then noticed the bullets were all neatly lined up in a row behind the weapon. Callaghan was a whole lot more clever than she'd realized.

Her reaction surprised her: She started smiling.

"I leave when I'm ready."

"You're the real thing, aren't you, Callaghan?"

"Real what?" he asked.

"Mountain man."

She edged her way around the table with the intent of opening the door. If she didn't get some fresh air inside soon she feared she would faint.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call to your man until I finish my breakfast."

"I'm not going to call to anyone," she promised. "I want fresh air. That's all."

Taylor opened the door and both windows. It didn't help much. She leaned against the entrance and stared at the intruder. He had the manners of a hog.

"I'll be wanting coffee tomorrow morning," he announced. "And a proper breakfast."

He kept giving her quick glances to judge her reaction. Taylor kept right on smiling at him.

"It's all right if you want to scream now. I'm finished," he announced. He made the bench scrape against the floor when he stood up.

"I bet you have lots of stories to tell about life as a mountain man."

"Thousands," he agreed.

"Do you know who Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett were?"

"I'm not ignorant," he snapped. "Of course I've heard of them. They're dead, woman. I know that, too. They weren't from these mountains neither," he added with a nod. "We got our own tales to tell from our hills. Men like Tom Howard and Sparky Dawson and Montana…"

Victoria's scream interrupted Callaghan. Taylor jumped a foot in reaction. She had been so engrossed in the conversation, she hadn't noticed the bedroom door open. Her dear friend took one look at the back of the stranger and let out a screech that could wake Redemption.

Taylor moved out of the way in the nick of time. Hunter came running through the entrance with his gun drawn. "Callaghan," he roared.

"Morning, Hunter."

Callaghan called out the greeting. Taylor hurried across the room to help Victoria. Her dear friend was gagging now and looked like she was going to faint.

"He's harmless," Taylor whispered to Victoria. "If you go back in your room and close the door, the smell shouldn't bother you too much."

"That's what woke me up," Victoria whispered back. She gagged again. Taylor pulled the edge of her robe up to cover the lower part of her face. "Hold this close and take little breaths."

Victoria quickly did as she suggested. Her eyes were still wide with fright. Taylor left her friend sagging against the door frame and went to fetch her gun. She noticed her children peeking down from between the rails of the banister and smiled up at them.

She picked up her gun from the mantel and quickly loaded it. Hunter was threatening to kill Callaghan.

"You've got ten seconds to get out of here," he ordered. "And if I ever see you again, I'm going to kill you."

"He's not going anywhere."

Taylor had to repeat her decision a second time before she gained the men's attention. Hunter was certain he'd misunderstood her.

"What did you say?"

"He's not leaving." She smiled at Hunter. She wanted to laugh. He looked dumbfounded. "He told me he'll only just keep coming back."

Callaghan slapped the tabletop with his hand and started laughing. He stopped just as abruptly when she pointed her gun at him.

"You going to shoot me?"

"No," she answered. "But you aren't leaving until I say you can leave."

Callaghan turned to Hunter. His expression showed his concern. "She crazy?"

Hunter nodded. "She must be."

"She's overworked and exhausted and not thinking straight," Victoria cried out. Her voice was muffled by the fabric she held over her mouth. "Taylor, are you out of your mind?"

"Probably," Taylor answered. She laughed then and turned her gaze to the loft. "Daniel David?"

"Yes, Mother?"

"You know what we just captured?"

"What, Mother?"

"A real live mountain man."

The look of joy on Daniel's face made all the work she was going to have to do well worth the trouble.

"Hunter, get the tub."

Callaghan was their dream come true.

Lucas was away for three full weeks. He arrived home late Friday afternoon. Hunter met him in the yard. He knew something was wrong. There was lather on the horse's flanks. Lucas wouldn't have pushed his mount unless there was trouble.

"Where are Taylor and the others?"

"Inside," Hunter answered. "They're fine. What happened?"

"The judge agreed. I've got the signed papers."

He didn't need to explain further about the custody issue, for he had told Hunter all about Taylor's uncle so he would be forewarned if anyone came searching for the twins when he was away.

"Glad to hear it's settled," Hunter said, waiting for Lucas to tell him what else had happened,

"I trailed two men from Rosewood to South Creek. They're hired guns. They stopped in Cameron and were asking the quickest way to get to Redemption. I cut across and figure they're still a day's ride away."

"The rain we had last night should have slowed them down," Hunter interjected.

"The son of a bitch sent gunmen to take the twins."

"Are you going to tell Taylor or are we just going to take care of it and not bother her with the worry?"

Lucas didn't want to frighten his wife, but he knew he had to tell her. "She has to be on her guard. I'll tell her after supper."

"Guess we better stroll into town and talk to Frank," Hunter suggested.

"Guess we better," Lucas replied.

He was staring across the yard when he agreed with Hunter. He'd just spotted a stranger dressed in yellow-colored buckskin. The man turned the corner and started toward the front door. The fading sunlight dappled the stranger's face and the distance was too great for Lucas to get a good look. There was something vaguely familiar about him.

"Evening," the man called out.

Lucas took a step back. "Callaghan," he whispered in disbelief. He continued to watch the man until he disappeared inside the house. He acted as though he was used to coming and going during the daylight hours.

He said his name again. He bellowed it this time.

Hunter started laughing. "You didn't recognize him, did you?"

Lucas shook his head. "What in thunder happened to him?"

"Taylor happened to him," Hunter answered. "I'll take care of your horse. You go on inside."

Callaghan must have told the family Lucas was back because the front door suddenly opened and Taylor came running. She was followed by the children. Victoria stood in the entrance, looking happy and relieved to see him.

Taylor waited until Lucas had greeted the children before stepping forward to kiss her husband.

"Welcome home," she whispered. "Did you…"

He nodded. Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed the breath out of her. The three children were all talking to him at the same time. He reluctantly pulled away from Taylor, whispered, "Later," and then turned to the most demanding of the three.

"Yes, Georgie?"

"You know what, Papa?"

"No, what?"

"We got a man inside."

"So I heard." Lucas looked at Taylor when he made that comment.

"He tells us stories every night," Daniel interjected. "About real mountain men. There's one who lives real close, and Callaghan says I might meet him one day."

"Mama won't let him go home. He told me so," Allie blurted out.

Taylor turned to cross the yard and go back inside. Lucas grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her back.

"Why haven't you let him go home?"

"Daniel hasn't chosen a name yet," Taylor explained. "Callaghan sleeps outside, Lucas. He isn't any trouble at all. I understand why you don't like him. He explained he's been a thorn in your side for years."

"If he sleeps outside, why doesn't he sneak away during the night?" Lucas asked, his exasperation apparent in his tone of voice. He knew the answer. Callaghan was getting hot meals and plenty of attention.

"Mama told him she'd hunt him down and drag him back if he left before I chose my name."

"When's that going to happen, son?" Lucas asked. With an effort he was able to keep the irritation out of his voice. He didn't want Daniel to think he was annoyed with him.

"Soon," Taylor promised. Lucas's jaw was clenched tight. The telltale sign indicated his anger. "He's leaving soon."

"Supper's ready."

Callaghan shouted the news from the doorway. Lucas looked at Hunter. His friend quickly turned away but not before Lucas saw him smile.

"Shall we go inside?" Taylor asked.

He frowned over her eagerness. She was acting as though the president of the United States was having supper with them.

He let himself be pulled along. And when he finally went inside and shut the door behind him, he could have sworn he heard Hunter's laughter.

He was able to control his temper all evening. He listened to the outrageous tale Callaghan told his wife and his son and only interrupted a couple of times.

"That isn't how it happened," he snapped. "If you're going to tell it, then tell it right."

His sharp reminder didn't stop Callaghan from continuing to tell one outrageous story after another.

Taylor couldn't understand why Lucas was getting so upset.

Callaghan seemed to understand. When the mountain man started another story involving a black bear, Lucas knew where it was headed. He threw up his hands and stormed out of the house.

Taylor didn't understand what had come over him. She excused herself and went outside. Lucas was halfway to the creek before she caught up with him.

"He's a thief, Taylor."

He'd answered her question before she could ask it. "When he was younger, perhaps. He won't steal from us."

"I can tolerate almost everything else, but by God, what's mine stays mine."

"Like your knife," she agreed. "The one you left on the nightstand in Cincinnati so I'd know you wouldn't give up looking for the twins."

"Yes," he agreed. "Come here, Mrs. Ross."

She stepped into his arms and hugged him. His chin dropped to rest on the top of her head.

"Men are coming tomorrow," he began. "Your uncle sent them."

He tightened his hold on her and explained what he and Hunter were going to do. He promised he would force them to leave. He didn't add the fact that they were gunfighters.

Taylor didn't let the twins out of her sight from that moment on. The weather cooperated with her plan to keep them inside. It rained most of the morning and half the afternoon.

Lucas came home at sundown. He told her the men had left. They wouldn't be coming back.

Frank gave her more details the following Sunday when she went into town to read the paper for the men.

"They both knew who Lucas and Hunter were," Frank told her. "They weren't about to go up against them. They were talkative, too. Seems your uncle was going to pay a premium for the return of his nieces."

"Lucas and I have legal custody now," Taylor blurted out.

Frank hurried to soothe her. "We know you do. None of us will sit idle if anyone else comes looking. Don't worry, Taylor."

Roily listened to the conversation and then took her aside. "I got a little present for you," he whispered. "I just finished it." She thought it was a cradle.

An hour later, Roily carried the gift out to the house. She was extremely appreciative and only laughed because she was filled with such joy, she assured the giant. Then she led the way inside and chose a spot for her third rocking chair.

She insisted on paying. He insisted once again that it was a gift. The chairs were placed in a half circle in front of the hearth. Roily wasn't in a hurry to leave. The twins were down for their naps, Victoria was outside arguing with Hunter about something or other, and Lucas had taken his son hunting.

Taylor invited Roily to sit for a spell. He settled himself in one of the rockers. She offered him a cool drink, but he declined the offer.

"Is there something you wanted to ask me?" she prodded.

He nodded. "I'm getting ready," he told her.

It took him over twenty minutes to get his question stated. They both rocked back and forth in their chairs while she waited and he worried.

He finally blurted it out. Roily wanted to learn how to read.

Taylor was astonished and pleased. He was embarrassed and worried sick someone would find out. If anyone snickered at him for being an old fool and trying to better himself, well then he'd have to kill him, wouldn't he?

She assured him that no one would laugh, and when he didn't believe her, she finally promised to keep his secret. She wouldn't tell anyone, not even her husbandi

"It's time for Daniel to learn how to read," she said. "I could sit down between the two of you and-"

Roily didn't want anyone, not even a seven-year-old, watching him struggle. He suggested she teach her son at night and tutor him during the noon hour when he closed his shop for supper. Taylor asked him to consider working together from one until two every afternoon because the twins napped then and it would be easier for her to slip away.

They began their lessons the very next day. Taylor told everyone she was going to stretch her legs and walk into town to say hello to Frank. She didn't want to lie, and so each day she walked in the front door of the general store and called out the greeting as she hurried down the main aisle and went out the back door. She passed through the store an hour later on her way back home. Frank must have thought she was out of her mind. She always gave him the same excuse, that she was out for a brisk walk because it was such a fine day, and he always gave her a look that told her he thought she was damned odd.

Teaching Roily was a challenge and a joy and a delight, for he was eager to learn and really quite intelligent. It was also a respite for Taylor, as it was the only time during the day that she was able to sit down. Roily appreciated the effort she made to help him. Lucas didn't appreciate anything she did. He didn't seem to even notice the rigid schedule she was maintaining. Her husband became more and more distant and withdrawn. Taylor believed he was finally realizing the burden he'd taken on. She fretted and she worried, and every morning before she groaned her way out of bed, she said a prayer for patience.

Callaghan was getting ready to leave. He told the family he could hear the mountain calling to him, and while he'd enjoyed Taylor's hospitality, he'd done enough talking and visiting. He wanted his solitude and his privacy back. He told Daniel he felt free and at peace when he was standing on top of a peak looking down on God's paradise.

Taylor was going to miss Callaghan, but she knew it was time for him to leave. He was wearing on Lucas's nerves. Her husband hated to listen to the stories he told after supper. Most of them centered around a mountain man named Montana. Lucas would scowl at the mere mention of the man's name and leave the house. His reaction always caused Callaghan to slap his knee and let out a hoot of laughter.

Exhaustion was taking its toll on Taylor. She was so tense and worried and so sick with her pretense of being strong all the time, inside she felt as though she were going to explode. When things became too difficult, she would grab her bucket, tell whoever was listening that she was going to fetch water, and hurry to a secluded spot by the stream and cry until the tension let up. Sometimes she went for water three times in a single day.

Lucas was unknowingly pushing her toward her breaking point. It had become a ritual for him to warn her every evening that they were still going to leave in the fall. She interpreted his reminder to mean that she had yet to convince him she had the skill and the stamina to live in the wilderness. And so the next day she tried a little harder and worked a little longer, and the next day and the next and the next…

He had his ritual, and she had her obsession. She was determined to get him to start treating her like a wife. She wanted him to talk to her about his hopes, his dreams, his worries, and his past. She hungered for him to share with her a little remembrance from his past, and God only knew she tried to get him to talk. Yet no matter how innocuous her questions were, he still gave her only one-word answers. He seemed determined to hold a part of himself back, and she couldn't understand why.

Nothing seemed to be going smoothly. She'd been engaged in a battle of wills with the twins for over a week now. Victoria assured her she was making progress. Taylor wasn't convinced. When Allie or Georgie misbehaved, Taylor sat her down on one of the steps leading up to the loft and made her stay there until she promised to do what she was told. The first few times Georgie was put on the step, she didn't seem to mind at all. Then Taylor started ignoring her while she was being punished. She refused to talk to the child and wouldn't let anyone else speak to her either. It didn't take long for Georgie to realize it wasn't any fun to be left out. By Friday, she hated the punishment and was finally beginning to stay off the kitchen table and leave her sister's food alone.

Allie was far more difficult to discipline. She seemed to enjoy sitting on the step. She enjoyed crying, too. Her screams were ear piercing and Taylor was soon clenching her teeth together. She pretended to ignore the child. She acted as though the shrill noise didn't bother her at all. Allie was far more stubborn than she was. If Taylor went outside, the screaming stopped. Yet as soon as she came back inside, the child started up again. Allie apparently wanted an audience.

On Saturday morning, Taylor came up with an alternate plan. She put Allie up in the loft and told her she could cry all she wanted, but no one would hear her. It was a lie, of course, for the child's wails were loud enough to spook the horses, but Allie believed her. Crying finally lost its luster. Without someone to see and hear her, the power struggle didn't appear to be worth her effort.

The twins weren't always behaving like hellions, of course. They were usually sweet and loving. After their baths each night, they would cuddle up on her lap and take turns telling her everything they had done during the day. They seemed to have forgotten she'd been with them every waking minute. She gave them praise and affection as often as possible, and she was thrilled that both of them were adapting to the wilderness with such ease.

Daniel loved their new home. He followed Lucas around like a puppy and hung on his every word. The two of them spent quite a lot of time together. No matter how busy Lucas was, he always made certain he gave his son time and attention.

Taylor clung to the hope that her husband would eventually give her the time and attention she craved. It simply wasn't possible for her to keep up her rigid schedule forever, and on Saturday afternoon, Taylor's control snapped. Ironically it was her sweet, innocent son who inadvertently caused the dam to burst. He told her the name he'd chosen for his own.

Callaghan stood by Daniel's side with his hands clasped behind his back. He was rocking back and forth on the soles of his boots. He looked like he was gloating about something. She became intrigued. The mountain man liked to tease, and she wondered what game he was up to now. There was a definite sparkle in his eyes.

Daniel made his announcement. He explained he wanted to be named after the fierce and courageous mountain man everyone called Montana.

She understood his reason for making the choice for she had listened to Callaghan tell one magical story after another about the valiant and bold mountain man. She, too, had been enamored by the tales, but she still didn't feel the name was suitable. Did he really want to be named after a territory?

"Montana's the name everyone calls him, but not to his face. He hates the name, Mother. Callaghan told me so."

She nodded and waited for him to tell her the name. Daniel was stammering with excitement. She didn't rush him. This was an important moment for the child.

He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. And then he told her his new name. He was going to be Lucas Michael Ross.

She had to sit down. Her son didn't seem to notice how upset she was or how stunned. He had already jumped into one of his favorite stories about Lucas.

"He led forty settlers out of the canyon in the dead of winter and the Indians didn't bother them at all because, because…"

Callaghan was happy to supply the rest of the explanation while the boy paused for air. "They're afraid and they're respectful," he told her.

Her son nodded. "I can't be called Montana. Every mountain man has to earn his own nickname. Callaghan's called Bear. Isn't that right?"

"It surely is," Callaghan agreed.

"Roily told me a story about Father, Mother. He said he could track his way-"

"Son, I don't believe your mama's up to hearing a tale now. She looks a might stunned to me. You didn't know, did you, Mrs. Ross?"

She shook her head. He burst into laughter. Taylor ignored the mountain man. She was remembering the crowd of men surrounding her husband in the lobby of the hotel in Boston. They were enthusiastically pounding him on his shoulder and begging him to shake their hands. She had believed their admiration had something to do with the war.

Dear God above, she was married to a mountain man. And everyone in America seemed to know who he was. Everyone but her.

"Callaghan said it would be confusing to call both of us Lucas," her son continued. "He suggested while I'm growing up I could use Father's middle name. I'm Michael now, Mother… if that is all right with you."

She didn't want to squelch his joy. She forced a smile. "Then Michael it is."

Callaghan left a few minutes later, and her son went outside to tell everyone else his new name. Lucas had already gone hunting. He would have to wait until later to find out what he was now supposed to call his son.

Taylor didn't move from the table for a very long time. Victoria and Hunter had taken the twins to the creek to play in the water. They were gone over an hour, and when they came back, Taylor was still sitting at the table.

Victoria had made a thick stew for supper. She announced it would be ready in another hour. She kept giving Taylor worried glances. Her friend looked flushed. She noticed she was trembling. Was fever the cause?

Taylor shook her head and stood up. "Not fever," she whispered to Victoria. "Fury." She tied her apron around her waist, tucked her gun in the pouch, and started for the door.

"Where are you going?" Victoria called out.

"To check the garden," Taylor answered. "Then I believe I'll go into town. I need to be alone for a little while," she added.

She thought her voice sounded calm, reasonable. Victoria didn't agree. "Is your throat paining you? You sound hoarse."

Taylor didn't answer her. She was pulling the door closed when her friend asked her how long she was going to be gone. She didn't want her to miss supper.

Taylor promised her she would be back before then.

Armed with her gun, she marched around the perimeter of her garden. She muttered over the damage the rabbits had already done to her budding vegetables and silently screamed inside over her miserable life.

Lucas knew something was wrong the minute he saw her. She stood on the opposite side of the garden, staring at him, and her expression was one he'd never seen before. She looked defeated.

She waited until he was about twenty feet away from her and then put up her hand in a signal for him to stop.

"I quit." She bellowed her announcement. His eyes widened in response. She nodded. "Did you hear me, Lucas. I quit."

He gave her a quick nod. "It's about time."

His reaction fueled her fury. "You expected me to fail, didn't you? You aren't at all surprised."

"No, I'm not surprised," he answered. "I've watched you work yourself to the bone these past weeks and seen what it's done to you." His concern about her made his voice harsh. "You've lost weight and you've got deep circles under your eyes. Thank God you came to your senses before you killed yourself."

She wanted to scream at him. She didn't suppress the urge. To hell with control. She'd come to the frontier to be free and by God she was going to be.

"Are you telling me my hard work convinced you I shouldn't stay here?"

"Taylor, you're shouting at me." He seemed astonished by the fact.

She didn't waste time agreeing with him. "Don't you dare tell me I'm fragile, Lucas, or I swear to God I'll scream you to death."

"You don't belong here," he argued. He was fast becoming as angry as she was. The longer he stared at his exhausted wife, the more furious he became. Didn't she realize she had become his whole world? If anything happened to her, he didn't know what he would do. She had responsibilities, damn it. The children depended on her. And so did he. Taylor needed to start taking care of herself, and he was going to make certain she did.

"I've stood by long enough," he told her. "I took you out of a ballroom and by all that's holy, I'm taking you back. You should be wearing diamonds and…"

She broke his concentration. She pulled the gun out of her apron, turned, and fired. A fat rabbit caught the bullet and was thrown backward against the fence.

Taylor put the gun away and then folded her arms together. She glared at her husband. "I quit," she shouted again. "Did you know your son has chosen his name? He wants to be called Lucas Michael Ross. We're supposed to call him Michael. What do you think about that, Montana?"

He took a step toward her. She backed away. "They're all exaggerations," he said. "I don't like to talk about it. I don't deserve the recognition. I'm a good tracker, that's all."

He was deliberately misunderstanding what she was trying to tell him. His expression became guarded. He obviously wanted her to drop the subject. She wasn't going to cooperate. "Everyone in America knows who you are. Everyone but your wife."

He didn't have anything to say about that. Taylor felt betrayed. She knew she needed some time alone to figure out what she was going to do.

"I'm not going to be a burden to you any longer," she announced. She picked up her skirts and started walking toward the path that led into town. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm leaving."

"Go right ahead," he muttered. "But I'm warning you, Taylor. I'll only track you down and drag you back to me. What's mine stays mine."

She came to an abrupt stop. The panic she heard in his voice confused her. She turned around to look at him. She saw fear in his gaze. She didn't understand his reaction, yet she instinctively tried to calm him. "I'm going into town. I shall be back within the hour."

He couldn't hide his relief from her. Taylor thought about Lucas's behavior all the way into town. She ran part of the distance, and when she realized what she was doing, she slowed down. She was still so angry with the obstinate man she couldn't think straight. Her plan to prove to him that she had the gumption and the stamina to live in the wilderness had backfired.

He was a full-fledged, bigger-than-life mountain man. If that wasn't galling, she didn't know what was. He knew she was fascinated with Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett. He heard some of the stories she told their son. Damn it, he knew how she felt about her heroes, and yet he never thought to tell her she was married to one.

Her temper flared again. Of course he didn't tell her. He would have to talk to her about his past and, God forbid, even share a few experiences with her.

Taylor threw her hands up in vexation. "I give up," she muttered. Then she burst into tears. Because she was in the habit of cutting through the general store, she took the pass through now. She cried her way down the main aisle, and because it was also customary for her to wave to Frank, she did that as well, and it wasn't until she'd gotten outside again that she realized how ridiculous she must have looked.

Taylor had promised to be back in an hour, but time got away from her. She went up the hill beyond Redemption, and when she reached the top, she looked down at the town below her, put her hands on her hips, and let out a loud, thoroughly liberating scream. It felt so wonderful, she screamed again. Only when her throat started aching did she finally stop.

She knew she was acting like a crazy woman. She didn't care. No one was around to hear or see her. It wouldn't have mattered if there were other people watching, she realized. She was a free woman. If she wanted to lose her control, then by God she was going to.

She let out a loud sigh of satisfaction and sat down. She spent a long while thinking about her husband. His reaction to her announcement that she was leaving kept nagging at her. He'd apparently thought she was telling him she was leaving their marriage, and while she thought that was a ridiculous conclusion for an intelligent man to jump to, what confused and fascinated her was the fact that she'd seen fear in his eyes. She hadn't been mistaken. There was fear and panic.

His reaction didn't make any sense to her. Did he truly believe she would walk away from him and the children? Or did he think she would leave the children with him and that was why he looked so panic stricken. She shook her head, denying the possibility. Lucas would know she'd never leave their children. How could he think she could leave him? She had told him she loved him. Did he think it was only a temporary affliction?

He hadn't been thinking clearly, she realized, and that wasn't at all like Lucas. He was always reasonable. He'd raised his voice to her as well. Yet Lucas never, ever shouted. He never allowed his emotions to get in the way of his control.

Until today.

There was only one conclusion possible, and suddenly what hadn't made any sense at all was perfectly clear.

He loved her.

She was overcome with joy. She wept for ten minutes before she felt like stopping. Then she started worrying. If he loved her, why hadn't he told her so?

Taylor mopped her face dry with the hem of her skirt and stood up. Love wasn't supposed to be confusing, was it? Perhaps Lucas hadn't realized he loved her yet. The possibility made sense to her, and since she couldn't come up with any other logical reason, she decided that was it.

Lord, she was going to have to be patient. She honestly didn't think she had it in her. Lucas would eventually figure it all out, she knew, and she only hoped she wasn't dead and buried before the truth dawned on the obtuse man. Loving him could very well be the death of her. The thought made her smile.

It was time to go home. She brushed the leaves from the back of her skirt and started back down the hill She suddenly found herself wondering what she had been doing a year ago and decided she was probably poring over Miss Livingston's journal. How naive she'd been back then. Miss Livingston didn't know poppycock about family life in the wilderness. Monday didn't have to be wash day and women didn't have to work until they dropped just to prove they were capable.

Life was too short for rigid schedules. Taylor knew she would eventually settle into a comfortable routine, but it wouldn't be demanding. She didn't need to prove anything to anyone. She wanted to live a long life with her husband at her side and watch her children grow up and follow their dreams.

She loved Lucas passionately, but she wasn't going to let him take her dreams away. She was staying right where she was, and that was that.

The sun was setting. Taylor paused to admire God's handiwork, then picked up her pace and hurried back into town. The time had gotten away from her. She told Victoria she'd be back in an hour and more than two had already passed.

She took her shortcut through the general store, called out a greeting to Frank, and then hurried on out the front door.

She came face-to-face with her uncle Malcolm.

They almost collided with one another. She was so startled by the sight of him, she came to a dead stop.

He didn't seem to be at all surprised to see her. He grabbed hold of her arm just above her elbow, squeezed hard, and dragged her away from the entrance.

She was already trying to pull his hand away from her when he slammed her up against the wall. The back of her head struck wood. Pain shot through her, but she didn't cry out. She wasn't about to give him such satisfaction.

Malcolm was as ugly as she remembered, though he'd put on a considerable amount of weight around his middle since the last time she'd seen him. His hair was thinning on top, and there were thicker strands of gray along the sides. He was dressed in a black suit and white shirt. There were stains around the collar and down the front. He reeked of whiskey. Yes, Malcolm was every bit as repulsive as she remembered.

"Get your hands off me," she demanded, her disgust evident in her voice.

"Is that any way to greet your uncle?" he crooned.

His face was just inches away from hers. She deliberately stared at the scar that crisscrossed his eyelid and brow. He finally noticed where she was looking and raised his right hand. He slapped her hard across the face just as Frank walked outside to see what was going on. He shouted and ran to help her.

Malcolm shoved him out of his way and pulled Taylor back into the store. He slammed the door shut, locked it, and then shoved her up against the counter.

"Did you think you could hide from me in this godforsaken place?"

She didn't answer him. "You were surprised to see me, weren't you?"

"Yes," she admitted. "I knew you would send more men to try to take the girls, but I didn't believe you would come here."

"I'm taking them home with me," he announced. He patted the pocket of his jacket. "I've got papers proving I own them."

"No one owns them," she cried out. "Your papers don't mean anything here. We aren't in England."

He glared at her, then hurried to the back door. He pulled it closed and bolted it against intruders.

"We'll just wait here," he told her.

Taylor was looking out the front window. Frank was nowhere in sight. She assumed he had gone to get Lucas.

"I could kill you for the trouble you've caused me. It was your idea, wasn't it?"

She folded her arms in front of her and watched him pace back and forth down the aisle, frowning at her all the while;

"What was my idea?" she asked.

"To change the will."

She shook her head. "Your mother didn't tell me what she'd done. I found out when you did, after she died."

He snorted with disbelief. "I'm not leaving without the twins. I wouldn't have bothered if you hadn't cleverly talked the bitch into leaving a bloody fortune to Marian's brats. Thanks to your interference, I've got every creditor in London pounding at my door."

"Your loans were all paid off by Madam," she reminded him. "Have you already buried yourself in debt again?"

He didn't like her question. He took a threatening step toward her. She slipped her hand down into her apron. She wanted to be prepared for any eventuality.

"If I have to kill you, I will," he threatened.

"Do so and the money will go to my husband," she was happy to point out.

Malcolm smiled. "He should be dying right about now. I didn't hire cowards this time. I came prepared. I've got four gunslingers with me."

With an effort she was able to hide her alarm from him. "Only four?" she taunted.

He raised his hand to slap her again. A noise coming from the front turned his attention. He rushed over to the side of the window and peeked outside. He apparently didn't see anyone there, for he shrugged and turned back to her.

He strutted like a peacock as he came down the aisle again.

"Every bit of this is your fault," he snapped. "If there's killing done, you're responsible. I want every pound due me. I can't go after the money the old fool left to her charities, but I can take back what she set aside for you and the twins."

"How do you plan to accomplish that?" she asked. She didn't give him time to answer. "Let me guess. It won't be your fault or your responsibility, but I'm still going to have to die. Is that it?"

"I'm only doing what you forced me to do."

"Where did you get the money to hire gunfighters?"

"My daughter," he answered. "She sold her jewels. I'm giving her half of the inheritance. Jane sends her regards," he added with a chuckle.

"They hang men for murder around here," she told him.

Malcolm unbuttoned his jacket and reached into his pocket. Her hand was on her gun, but she didn't pull the weapon out of her apron. She didn't want to kill him unless she was forced to.

He had a gun tucked into the waistband of his pants. It was squeezed between his belt and his roll of fat. He didn't reach for his weapon, however. He pulled out a handkerchief instead and began to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

"It's hot as hell in here," he muttered.

"Taylor!" Lucas bellowed her name. The glass in the windows shook from the force of his shout.

Malcolm went running to the window. He hid by the side and peeked out to see who was there. He didn't stand directly in front of the glass, for he didn't want to be a target.

"Who is it calling you?" he demanded in a low whisper.

There was laughter and relief in her voice when she answered him. "Lucas."

"No!" He howled the denial.

"Yes," she repeated. "Would you like me to answer him?"

"Shut your mouth, girl. Let me think," he ordered. He peeked outside once again, then flattened himself against the wall to stare at her. "They must not have gotten to him before he took off for town. Yes, that's it. They'll be on their way any time now. I'll keep him busy worrying about you until they get here. Answer him, damn you. Call out to him so he knows I haven't killed you yet."

"Do you expect me to help you?" She sounded incredulous. "God, you're despicable. You look like a cornered rat. You are cornered, you know. You might as well give up. Walk out of here while you still can."

"Answer him," Malcolm shouted again.

Taylor was going to refuse, but Lucas called her name again and she knew he must be worried about her. Men who loved their wives would worry. Lucas wasn't any different.

"Yes, Lucas?" she shouted.

"Are you all right?" His voice shook with terror.

"Yes," she shouted back. "I'm quite all right."

A full minute passed before Lucas called to her, again. "I'm coming in."

Malcolm struggled to get his gun out of his waistband. He wasn't paying any attention to her.

"Tell him to stay where he is," he shouted,

"You don't need to come inside," Taylor called out. She pulled the gun out of her apron and took aim.

Lucas didn't know what to do. He was so scared inside and in such a rage he wanted to tear the door down and kill the bastard with his bare hands. All the way into town he blocked the possibility that she could already be dead, and when she called out to him and he knew she was still alive, his knees had gone weak and his heart had felt as though it had exploded inside him.

"Lucas, you're an easy target standing in the middle of the street," she shouted.

Malcolm was looking out the window again. He had his gun in his hand but down by his side. He hadn't taken aim yet. And that was the only reason he was still alive.

"I'm coming in," Lucas shouted to her again.

"You don't need to," she assured him.

She didn't sound frightened. Lucas didn't know what to make of the realization. And then she cleared it all up for him with a simple reminder.

"Why the hell not?" he wanted to know.

"I'm wearing my apron."

Malcolm didn't understand until he heard her cock the gun. He slowly turned toward her, raising his own weapon as he moved.

She shot the gun out of his hand. He let out a howl of pain and fell back against the wall. The front door exploded into fragments. Lucas used his shoulder to break down the barrier. Then the back door crashed to the floor, and Roily came storming inside.

Lucas glanced at Taylor to make certain she was all right, then turned to Malcolm. He lifted him up, slammed his fist into his jaw, and threw him backward. Malcolm went flying out the glass window and landed in a heap on the walkway.

He wanted to kill him. Taylor wouldn't let him. At first she thought justice would be served by sending him back to England. The life he would have to endure living as a pauper would be punishment enough. He was a broken-down, ruined man. But he still had the same appetites, the same sick cravings. No child would be safe as long as Malcolm roamed the streets of London.

And the children must always come first. Always.

She wanted him locked away for the rest of his life. Lucas finally agreed with her. He decided putting a bullet through Malcolm's black heart wouldn't be a good idea after all. He wouldn't suffer enough.

The entire town had gathered outside the store and were staring down at their captive while they debated what they wanted to do to him. Malcolm was sitting in the dirt, whimpering and cursing while he dabbed at his hand where Taylor's bullet had clipped his skin.

Roily thought they should hang him then and there. Lucas wouldn't let him. He had his arm around Taylor's shoulders and was squeezing her tight against his side. She could feel him shaking, and from the look he was giving her, she thought he might be realizing he loved her. He looked ill.

Cleevis and Eddie stepped forward with the offer to take Malcolm to the sheriff in Rosewood. Lucas agreed.

"What happened to the four men Malcolm hired?" Taylor asked.

Lucas had killed two when they tried to ambush him and let the third crawl away with a bullet in his gut. He wasn't going to give Taylor any of the details, however.

The gunfighters had set up their trap near the stream. While Hunter kept them busy with his gunfire, Lucas worked his way around to the side. He'd been consumed with panic, for Taylor always crossed over the path where the men were hiding on her way back from town. If she'd come home when she was supposed to, she could have gotten killed.

But she was late. She was always late, and Lucas thanked God for the blessed flaw. He vowed he would never criticize her again.

"Lucas, what happened to the four men Malcolm sent?" she asked again.

"I only counted three."

"I counted four."

Hunter made the comment from behind her back. She turned and smiled at him.

She had refused to look at her uncle. He'd called her name twice. She ignored him both times.

"I want to go home now," she whispered to her husband. "Frank? If you'll order glass for your window, my husband will be happy to pay for it."

Lucas let go of her and spoke to Hunter in a low voice. She couldn't hear what he was saying to his friend. She didn't wait for him. She suddenly needed to get away from Malcolm and breathe fresh air. She said her farewells and started walking home. Lucas caught up with her at the bend in the dirt road.

She told him what Malcolm had said to her. "He has never taken responsibility for anything in his entire life. He was very clever making others feel as though they were somehow at fault for what he did."

"Marian?" he asked.

"Yes. She believed she had done something wrong. Will Malcolm be locked away?"

"The charge will be attempted murder," Lucas told her. "Yes, he'll be locked away. Taylor?"

"Yes?"

"Never mind." His voice was trembling. He was still having difficulty getting his emotions under control. He had never felt stark terror until he realized Taylor was inside with the bastard. He never wanted to feel like that again. He was still sick to his stomach and his nerves were strung tight enough to pop.

"Lucas, quit glaring at me."

"I'm never going through that again. Do you hear me, Taylor. I'm never going to be scared like that again."

"Why do you think you were scared?" She held her breath while she waited for his answer.

"That's an ignorant question."

Lord, he could be impossible. They walked along for several more minutes before she spoke again.

"When I left for my walk, I had made a decision. I decided I didn't want to be married to a man who didn't love me."

"You aren't." He sounded furious with her.

"I know." She sounded thrilled.

"Have you stopped loving me?"

It wasn't what he asked but how his voice shook when he asked that stunned her. His anguish was almost unbearable to witness. He looked as though she was about to destroy him with her answer. He believed he had it all figured out as well, for he was beginning to nod.

"I will never stop loving you," she whispered. She grabbed hold of his hand and held tight. "How can you ask me such a question? Do you think that if you say or do something wrong, I'll stop? Honest to God, Lucas, you're going to drive me out of my mind. My love isn't conditional or temporary. It's forever."

"Then stop asking questions about my past," he ordered. "Leave it alone, Taylor. I'm damned sick of worrying you'll…"

He didn't go on. He pulled away from her and quickened his pace.

"Realize what?" she asked.

He shook his head. She wouldn't give up. "Answer me," she demanded in a near shout.

He turned around and looked at her. "I'm a bastard, remember?"

"I am aware of the circumstances surrounding your birth," she replied. "Madam told me, you told me, and I believe William Merritt told me. It didn't matter then and it doesn't matter now."

"Why the hell doesn't it matter to you? When are you going to realize I'm not…" He stopped suddenly, shook his head again, and then muttered, "I know I don't deserve you. I won't give you up though, no matter how unworthy I am. If you knew all the things I've done, you wouldn't be able to look at me. I started living the day I met you. Let my past alone. And this is the last time I'm ever going to talk about this. Do you understand?"

He didn't wait to hear her agreement. He turned around again and started walking.

The truth was finally out. Lucas was afraid. Dear Lord, why had it taken her so long to understand? He was ashamed of his past and believed that if she knew about his childhood and his war years, she would stop loving him. At the root of his fear was the stigma of being born out of wedlock. She hadn't realized until this very minute how much it had affected him or what his life as a young boy must have been like.

He never called William Merritt by name. He called him a son of a bitch. She had also heard him call William a bastard. He wasn't illegitimate. Neither was her uncle Malcolm, but Lucas called him a bastard, too. She finally understood why. In Lucas's mind, being called a bastard was the most horrible, contemptible, and dishonorable curse one man could put on another.

Seeing such vulnerability made her love him all the more. Her heart was suddenly pounding a furious beat, and all she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and cry with joy because he loved her.

She was going to have to get his attention first, and then convince him he was more than worthy. He was the man of her dreams.

She called out to him. He ignored her. She shouted his name the second time. He acted as though he hadn't heard her.

She let out a sigh and reached for her gun. She aimed and shot a pebble off the ground a yard or two in front of him.

He whirled around to face her. "What in thunder do you think you're doing?"

"Getting your attention."

He shook his head. He didn't want to stay and talk until he'd gotten his emotions under control. She had seen enough of his weakness and his vulnerability.

"Put that gun away. I've got things to do. I'm leaving, damn it."

She smiled at him. "Go ahead," she shouted back. "But I'm warning you. I'll only track you down and bring you back home where you belong. I love you, Lucas. You are everything I could ever want."

He turned away from her. She shot a piece of bark off a tree twenty feet away from him.

Then she tucked her gun back into her apron, picked up her skirts, and went running to him. She was sobbing by the time she threw herself into his arms.

He shook with emotion. He couldn't stop telling her how much he loved her. He kissed every inch of her sunburned face and whispered all the words he'd held inside for so long. He wanted to prove to her first that he was worthy. He would give her the kind of life he was certain she wanted and deserved, and once they were living in their fancy house and she was draped in velvet and diamonds, he would tell her he loved her.

She thought that was the most beautiful, loving, and foolish fantasy she'd ever heard. She was already living in a paradise and she never wanted to leave.

Their kisses and their pledges made them hungry for more. She tried to pull him toward the yard that led to their house, but he shook his head and took her to a secluded spot nestled between the pines. They made love then with an intensity and passion that overwhelmed them.

They lazily washed in the stream and made love again. They kissed and stroked each other while they put on their clothes, and the ordinary task took them a long, long while.

Taylor didn't want to go home just yet, but she knew Victoria would be worried. Lucas told her Hunter knew they were going to be late.

Her husband stretched out on his back on a carpet of grass and let out a loud sigh of contentment.

"How did he know we would be late?"

"I told him."

"But you were in such a hurry to get home," she reminded him.

He grinned. "Only when you started pressing me," he told her.

Taylor sat down next to him and stared up at the stars. "I am surrounded by luxury," she whispered. "The stars are my diamonds, and I'm sitting on a carpet of emeralds."

"You're really determined to stay?"

"Oh, yes."

"It will be hard on you. There will be times you'll want to give up."

"I'm sure there will be."

"What will you do?"

"Scream."

He laughed. "Like today."

"Yes."

"You aren't fragile."

She was so pleased with his realization, she leaned over and kissed him.

"When did you figure that out?"

"The rabbit."

She didn't understand. She had to wait until he stopped laughing to hear his explanation.

"It was your concern about your garden, I suppose," he said. And the way she had pulled out her gun to protect what belonged to her.

"What's mine stays mine."

She was throwing his words back at him. He nodded. "That's right."

He cupped the back of her neck and drew her down for another long kiss. When she finally pulled away, he let out another satisfied sigh.

She stretched out next to him. They stared up at the night. She thought about their future. He thought about his past.

Neither spoke for several minutes. Taylor thought the night was filled with magic. She inhaled the sweet mountain air and closed her eyes. She had never known such contentment or peace.

"I used to fall asleep every night staring up at the stars. I would pretend I was the only one who could see them. They belonged to me and only me. I didn't have anything to call my own back then, not even a legitimate name."

He continued to talk for almost an hour about his growing-up years. She didn't interrupt or ask any questions. She simply listened. She smiled when he told her about some of the pranks he and Hunter had pulled, and became teary eyed when he told her about some of the more painful experiences he'd endured.

Lucas didn't tell her about the war until they were on their way back home. It was difficult for him to talk about and nearly unbearable for her to hear. And when he told her what a man named John Caulder had done to him and eight other men, she wept with compassion and sorrow.

"I was the fortunate one," he told her. "I survived. I couldn't understand why. The others had families waiting for them. I didn't have anyone. Hunter told me there was a reason and eventually I would figure it all out. You helped me do that, sweetheart. I think you and the children are the reason why I was supposed to stick around."

She smiled over the wonder in his voice. He turned the topic back to Caulder and called him a bastard. She gently corrected him by pointing out that being born out of wedlock wasn't the baby's fault. He hadn't made the choice or done some terrible deed. Caulder deserved to be called every vile name Lucas would think of, but bastard wasn't allowed.

"Will they tell you when they've captured him?"

"Yes."

"He needs to stand trial. The world needs to know what he did to your friends."

Lucas knew she was right. He would be their voice when he testified against Caulder.

Lucas told her another war story and when he was finished, he turned the subject to his brothers. He talked about the ranch they were building and how beautiful the land was there. She wanted to know when he was going to get around to introducing his family to his brothers.

He promised her he would take her and the children over the pass as soon as possible. He thought it might be a good idea to bring Kelsey home with them. The boy could use a little mothering and Daniel, or rather Michael, would have the opportunity of getting to know his young uncle. Taylor thought that was a splendid idea.

He wanted to know why she was spending so much time with Roily. She refused to give him an answer. Lucas assured her he wasn't jealous, but he kept prodding her until she finally told him enough to satisfy him. She said they were working on a special project and he would have to wait to find out what it was.

Lucas decided she must have finally talked Roily into making a cradle for Victoria's baby and was helping him with the task.

Three weeks later, he realized his guess had been wrong. Roily stopped by with another gift he was certain they would appreciate. It was yet another rocking chair.

Lucas told Roily they didn't need it. The giant was just as certain they did. Lucas eventually gave in. He took the rocker and put it with the others.

"Don't you know how to make anything else?" he asked.

"I'm partial to rocking chairs," Roily replied.

That evening, after the children had gone to sleep, the four adults sat in the chairs and rocked back and forth. Taylor was the first to start laughing. Then Victoria joined in, and it wasn't long before Hunter and Lucas began laughing too.

They made so much noise, they woke the children. Taylor dabbed at the corners of her eyes while she explained to the little ones that she was laughing with happiness because they had so many fine chairs.

"Guess I'll start work on a cradle," Hunter told Victoria.

"Guess I'll have to build another room," Lucas drawled out. "If Roily doesn't run out of wood soon, we'll need the space."

That statement started everyone laughing again. The twins were cuddled up on their father's lap. They didn't understand why everyone was so amused, but they laughed all the same.

Taylor's son sat with her. He thought his parents were crazy.

"We're just enjoying ourselves, Daniel," she explained.

"It's Michael now, not Daniel, Mother. Please get it right."

His sassy tone of voice astounded her. She burst into laughter again. She wrapped her arms around her son and hugged him. "I'll try to get it right, Michael."

She kissed him good night and sent him up to bed. Lucas carried his daughters.

Victoria stood up, took hold of Hunter's hand, and led him outside. From the way the two of them were gazing at each other, Taylor knew there would be a wedding soon.

She leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and let the sounds of the night float around her. She could hear the twins giving their father fits. Allie was upset because her papa hadn't tucked her baby under the covers just right. Then Georgie started in. She gave her papa several reasons why she couldn't go to sleep. Lucas finally got the two of them settled down by starting a bedtime story he let his son select from his favorites.

Lucas was far more patient with the children than she was. He wasn't perfect, however. She was going to have to ask him to stop using blasphemies, for just the other day Georgie had settled herself at the table, propped her face up in her hands with her elbows on the tabletop, and asked, "What the hell's for supper, Mama?"

Lucas was definitely going to have to start guarding his language.

Taylor's thoughts flittered from one lazy thought to another. She knew she was about to drift off to sleep, and so she said her prayers. She thanked God for her blessings, and when she was finished, she whispered good night to Madam.

She had to have known. Oh, yes, she'd known Lucas was the man of her dreams. She would have found out all about him from the information she'd gathered in her file.

Tell the babies kind stories about me. Taylor hadn't forgotten Madam's request. She would tell children hundreds of stories about their great-grandmother, but the one she would most enjoy relating would be about the gift the grand lady had given her. She would tell them how she met and married Prince Charming.