Destiny Awaits


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Copyright ©1995 by Suzanne E. Witter


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DESTINY IN DISGUISE
DESTINY'S EMBRACE
TILL THE END OF TIME
  For Rose Elizabeth Lee,
  my beautiful grandmother
  A mind has the power to reason out mysteries
  A heart: to love and defy
  But only the soul can recognize fate
  And that's where true destiny lies...
1
Carmel, California 1995
Tess could barely breathe.
For that matter, she could barely hear, barely see, and smelling was completely 
out of the question. This cold was killing her. It was wrapping itself around 
her head and squeezing her brains out.
She'd been in bed for three days, watching hours upon hours of soap operas and 
game shows. And if constantly blowing her nose didn't give her an aneurysm, then 
the boredom was bound to kill her.
She lifted the remote, clicked off the television, and grabbed a tissue just in 
time to catch a throat-grating sneeze. Her eyes watered. Her head pounded. She 
groaned and sank back into her goose feather pillows.
At this rate, she'd be dead in a day. They'd find her limp, lifeless body buried 
amid gooey, used tissues, her hair matted, her makeup all worn off. The 
newspapers would say that Contessa Harper, daughter of computer chip moguls 
Travis and Patrice Harper, had been found dead in a stained Michael Bolton 
nightshirt with a box of cold medication clutched in her fist. Not exactly a 
graceful exit. Her mother would throw a fit—and probably kill her all over 
again.
“Dear God,” Tess croaked. She stared up at the ceiling she'd come to know well 
over the past few days and let go with another violent sneeze. “Strike down who 
ever gave me this cold from hell and then give ’em a good kick in the teeth for 
me."
She could see the blue sky out her open window. It was another bright, spring 
day in Carmel, a far cry from the rainy city of Paris she'd left behind four 
days before. Searching for better weather, she'd hopped a plane for California, 
intent on a few, quiet, sunny weeks at her beach house, but by some demented 
stroke of luck she'd fallen sick on her first day at home. Now, instead of 
sunning herself on her private beach, armed with a tall bottle of Perrier and 
Danielle Steel's latest book, she was stuck in bed, settling for the meager bit 
of sunlight that managed to filter itself through her curtains and slurping down 
a day-old pitcher of lukewarm water.
Tess could tell it was close to lunchtime, not only by the dull cramping of her 
stomach, but by the sharp cry of the seagulls outside. She pictured the people 
on the public beach down the way, with their sweaty, tanned bodies and packed 
picnic baskets, tossing bread into the air for the scavenger seabirds while 
their children played in the sand and flew their kites. She could almost hear 
them laughing and she scowled at the image, envisioning a giant wave coming and 
sweeping them all out to sea.
She was blowing her nose for the umpteenth time when her maid's voice came over 
the intercom by her bed. “It's me, Ms. Harper."
Tess ran her tongue over her chapped lips and reached to push the button that 
released the lock on the front gate. A few minutes later she heard her front 
door open, and then her maid's round face peered around the edge of the bedroom 
doorway. “Just me."
“Did you bring the soup?” Tess demanded hoarsely.
The maid came into the room carrying a brown paper bag with Charley's Oyster Bar 
printed in red lettering on the front. “It took me an hour to drive up the coast 
to buy it—but Lord knows I wouldn't dare forget. How you feelin'?"
“Like my head's in that bag, five hundred feet beneath the ocean,” Tess 
grumbled.
“Well, have you been out of bed today? Did you get up, take a shower, brush your 
teeth like I told ya to?"
Tess gave the plump woman a frosty glare. “Thousands of microscopic cold-trolls 
are hammering aimlessly at my body, the hair on my head actually hurts, and you 
want me to get up and take a shower?"
“You get yourself up out of that bed, move around a little, and you'll feel a 
whole lot better."
“If I get up out of this bed I'll more than likely fall flat on my face. You 
know how light-headed I get when I'm sick."
The maid stooped down to pick up a pair of discarded jeans. “Yep. And I also 
know how dramatic ya get."
“Your sympathy is always so comforting, Mrs. Collins."
“Oh, for goodness sake, child, it's just a cold. In a few days you'll be back on 
your feet, spendin’ money like there's no tomorra, going to all them fancy 
parties. Now, I'll put the soup in the microwave to reheat, but you're gonna 
have to get up and get it yourself."
Despite the agony in every joint of her body, Tess sat up in the bed. “You're 
not staying?"
“You know Mr. Collins has his poker game on Sunday afternoons. I've got twenty 
sandwiches to make.” The maid went into the hall. “Take some more medicine and 
try to get some rest. You'll feel better in the mornin'."
Tess stared disbelievingly at the empty doorway. A few moments later the 
microwave started up with a low hum, and then she heard the sound of her front 
door open ... and close. She was once again lying in her beach house alone.
She listened to the microwave, waiting for the final beep beep beep that would 
mock her inability to get up. She'd been abandoned by a very well-paid employee 
for a bunch of fat old retired men and a handful of submarine sandwiches. Her 
desolation was now complete.
She fell back onto the bed, picturing herself struggling to her feet, managing 
two feeble steps, and then crumbling to the floor. “I wonder if the scream of 
sirens would be enough to pull Mrs. Collins away from the mayonnaise jar,” she 
grumbled.
She snatched up the box of cold medication from her nightstand. Although she'd 
taken a tablet two hours before, nothing seemed to be cracking the brick lodged 
behind her eyes. She popped another pill into her mouth, and laid back against 
her pillows to wait for the antihistamine to take effect.
A few minutes later, she drifted toward an odd sort of awareness. Through the 
echoing chasm of her mind she heard the microwave beep, but she couldn't seem to 
open her eyes. Her head felt strange, not so much clogged, but fuzzy.
In the next few moments the silence in the house became deafening, and Tess 
feared that the last pill she'd taken had been one too many. After twenty brave 
years of living, Tess Harper had gone and killed herself with a handful of cold 
medication.
Tears burned at Tess's closed eyes, and then she thought she heard something in 
the hallway outside her bedroom door. She practically sobbed with relief at the 
idea of seeing her maid again. “Mrs. Collins?” she rasped.
There was no answer.
“Mrs. Collins ... I don't feel very well."
“Of course you don't feel very well. The instructions on the box say to take one 
tablet every four to six hours, not every time you please."
That strong, precise voice did not belong to her maid, and Tess managed to crack 
open one eye. “Mrs. Collins?” She frowned at the strange, small woman standing 
at the foot of her bed. “You're not Mrs. Collins."
The woman folded her arms across the front of her gray, textured jacket. “No, 
Miss Harper, I am most certainly not your maid."
Becoming anxious, Tess forced her eyes open all the way and tried to focus, 
tried to figure out how the woman had gotten into her house. Mrs. Collins was a 
stickler for locked doors, and, despite her foggy state of mind, Tess felt sure 
she hadn't heard the burglar alarm go off.
A burgeoning fear was rising up inside her, replacing the dazing affects of the 
medication. She swallowed hard despite her scratchy throat and tried to keep 
from shrieking when she spoke. “How—how did you get past the gate?"
The woman came to sit on the edge of the bed. “It wasn't a problem,” she 
replied.
“Wh-what do you want?"
“I want to help you, Miss Harper.” She lifted a cool, small hand to Tess's 
forehead.
“Are ... are you a nurse?” Had Mrs. Collins finally realized the seriousness of 
her employer's illness and dialed 911?
“Not exactly a nurse."
“Not exactly?"
“Would you like me to get you a bowl of soup, Miss Harper?"
Tess's bleary gaze drifted over the woman's bright, colorful scarf and tailored 
gray suit. Experience told her that the pearls around the woman's neck weren't 
paste by a long shot. She looked like a professional woman, maybe even a doctor. 
“Yes,” Tess finally responded, though hesitantly. “Yes, I'd like some soup."
The woman smiled and Tess decided that it was definitely the patronizing smile 
of a doctor. “A healthy appetite is a very good sign, Miss Harper."
She left the room and Tess managed to pull herself up into a sitting position, 
trying to ignore the constant pounding in her head and ringing in her ears. 
She'd been stupid to take another tablet before the other had worn off. Thank 
God the doctor had shown up when she had.
Tess was feeling a little more alert when the doctor came back a few minutes 
later. “Here we are,” the woman said. “A steaming bowl of chicken soup. It 
smells wonderful."
Tess took the bowl, and, balancing it beneath her chin, spooned a bite into her 
mouth. She winced as her bottom lip cracked.
The doctor frowned. “My, my, you do look a mess, Miss Harper. And your hair is 
rather ... vertical."
Tess gave her a cool glance.
“Your nose looks like a raspberry—"
“I'm sick,” Tess replied sharply.
“Have you tried a nice warm shower? You know, it always—"
“What is it with you women over forty?” Tess blurted out. “You all seem to think 
that showering and brushing your teeth cures cancer!"
The woman arched a dark brow. “Getting your body moving will make you feel 
better."
Tess snorted through her stuffed up nose. “I guess it must be some menopausal 
thing."
She went back to her soup, ignoring the doctor. The chicken broth felt 
wonderfully warm as it slid down her throat and, amazingly enough, began to 
clear her sinuses.
When she was finished, she handed the doctor the empty bowl and settled back 
into her bed. Her strength was beginning to return, and the earlier grogginess 
had lifted from her head. “I think I'm feeling a little better now."
“Good,” the woman replied. “Then we can get down to business."
Tess eyed her. “You're not going to try to give me a shot, are you? I hate 
needles."
The doctor set the empty bowl on the nightstand. “I know that."
“Then I hope Mrs. Collins also informed you that I am allergic to penicillin, so 
don't try shoving any of that down my throat either."
“Miss Harper, I am not here to inject you or force-feed you medication."
Tess frowned, not sure what to make of a physician who didn't dish out pills 
like candy. “The thermometer is in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom,” she 
said, knowing there wasn't a medical person alive who wasn't temperature happy. 
She'd gone in to have a mole removed once, and the first thing the nurse had 
done was shove a thermometer into her mouth.
“Your temperature is 99.9 degrees."
Tess blinked. She'd taken her temperature a few hours before and 99.9 was right 
on the money. “How did you know that?"
“And 99.9 degrees certainly isn't going to kill you, Miss Harper. Mrs. Collins 
is right. You have a simple cold. One that will run its course in two more 
days."
“That's awfully optimistic advice considering you haven't even examined me yet. 
How do you know I don't have pneumonia or something?"
The doctor gave her a knowing look. “Remember when you were thirteen and became 
infected with the chicken-pox? You insisted that your nanny phone your parents 
in Europe at once and inform them that you had come down with leprosy."
Tess pulled in a startled breath. “How did you—"
“And the time you ate so many cherry Popsicles that you vomited red for ten 
minutes? I believe in that instance your greatest fear was bleeding ulcers."
Tess was amazed. She'd never told a soul except her nanny, Mrs. Smalls, about 
the leprosy scare, and only she and the porcelain god knew about the “bleeding 
ulcers."
“Your nanny was a very put-upon woman, thanks to our mistake. We're going to 
have to compensate her very handsomely on the other side."
“Now, wait just a minute.” Tess snatched up a tissue and blew her nose, loudly. 
“I know I wasn't a model child, but I certainly wasn't that difficult.” Then she 
realized what the woman had said. “The other side of what?"
“Why, life. Of course.
“Of course,” Tess said slowly. She quickly reevaluated the woman. “Since when do 
doctors make housecalls?"
“I never said I was a doctor."
Tess sat taller in the bed and narrowed her eyes. “And what's all this talk 
about my nanny and compensation?” It was occurring to her that a doctor and a 
lawyer generally dressed the same and had the same patronizing disposition. “Is 
Mrs. Smalls suing me?” she demanded.
“Suing you?"
“I should have known I'd never be rid of that woman. Damn it, I even sent her a 
Christmas card last year!"
“Miss Harper, calm yourself. Mrs. Smalls is not suing you."
“Then what does she want?"
“After spending eighteen years with you, some peace and quiet, I should think."
“Well, you can tell your client that the time when she could intimidate me has 
come and gone. I wouldn't give her another dime if it flew her to the moon and 
left her there."
“Mrs. Smalls is not my client, Miss Harper ... You are."
“I don't get it."
“I am not a doctor. And I am not a lawyer—"
“Then you're a burglar, and I suggest you leave while you still have the 
chance."
“A burglar who breaks into homes and fixes people chicken soup?"
This was all too much for Tess's fevered brain to take. Her thoughts were 
growing muddy again, and she decided she'd had enough. “Whoever you are, I am 
tired and would like to take a nap. So, if you would please leave—"
“I am afraid I can't do that."
Tess gave the woman her best Harper glare, the one that through countless 
generations had always sent its victims scurrying. “I beg your pardon?” she said 
evenly.
“We haven't finished conducting our business, Miss Harper, so I'm afraid your 
nap will have to wait."
“Our business? Do you haveany idea the trouble you'd be in if I decided to 
report you to the police?"
“Oh, yes, I am quite aware of the clout you have with the local authorities."
“Then I suggest that you get the hell out of my house before I call them and 
have you locked in a cell for the rest of your life!"
The woman sighed, but didn't appear in the least bit intimidated by the Harper 
stare, or Tess's threatening tone. “This would all be a lot easier for you—as 
well as myself—if you would forgo the snippety attitude, Miss Harper, and 
incline yourself to listen for once."
"Snippety—"
“Now...” The woman stood and began to pace at the foot of the bed. “We don't 
have much time. If we're to install you at the most propitious moment, then we 
shall have to act fast."
“I'll give you ‘propitious'!” Tess lunged for her cordless phone, but knocked it 
to the floor and out of reach. The woman didn't bat an eyelash, and continued on 
with her rambling. “Mr. Maguire is in quite a fix at the moment.” She arched a 
dark brow at Tess, who sat panting with rage in the center of the bed. “I see 
that as the only reason he might deign to take you into his humble abode. As for 
that cold you have, it might help you in gaining more sympathy. Don't forget to 
take your medication with you, though. We don't want you whining too much on Mr. 
Maguire's shoulder. Mustn't overdo."
“Take it with me?” Tess repeated, her teeth clenching. “Dare I askwhere I am 
going?"
“I am sending you back where you belong, Miss Harper. Far, far from here."
“You think so, do you—"
“To Kansas."
Kansas?A warning light went off in Tess's brain. The only reason she could think 
of for anyone to want to drag her out into the middle of a nowhere place like 
Kansas was to kidnap her. She'd been warned about the possibility before, a 
wealthy heiress like herself, living alone, jet-setting around the world. She 
even knew a man in Rome who'd been abducted once before. But Tess had never 
really considered that it could ever happen to her.
“Time to go,” the woman announced.
Tess began to panic. “Oh, but—but you don't have to take me anywhere. My 
parents—no.I'll pay you anything you want. Any ransom you name. Just ... just 
let me get my checkbook."
Carefully, so as not to incite the apparently very disturbed woman who broke 
into sick people's homes, nursed them with soup, and then stole them from their 
beds, Tess pushed back her covers and eased her legs over the side of the 
mattress. She would empty her bank account if need be—knowing a check could be 
easily canceled in the end. All she needed to do was get the woman out of her 
house, then she could lock the door and call the police.
She stood on shaky legs and slipped her arms into her “sick coat,” a pink fuzzy 
bathrobe she'd had for years and only found the nerve to wear when she was sick. 
“I'll only be a moment,” she said calmly. “My checkbook is in the den—"
“Oh, stop all this nonsense, Miss Harper! I do not want your money!"
Startled by the woman's sharp voice, Tess grabbed the edge of the tall oak 
dresser beside her. That's when her eyes lit on the twenty-four-karat gold 
Victorian candlestick she'd bought at an auction in London. She snatched up the 
heavy object, and held it out in front of her like a golden saber. “I won't let 
you kill me!"
A vision of Mrs. Collins stopping by to clean in the morning went flitting 
through Tess's mind. The blood, the mess—the woman would probably demand 
overtime.
“I am not going to kill you,” the woman replied. “As I said before, I am here to 
help you."
“Then help me by leaving!"
She sighed. “Put down the candleholder, Miss Harper. I am not going to hurt 
you."
“Said the spider to the fly!” Tess jabbed out with her impromptu weapon. “And 
you're not going totake me anywhere either!"
“This is going to be more difficult than I'd first imagined."
“You've got that right, lady. Might I suggest you leave while the leaving's 
good! What do you want? A check? Cash? Some silver from the kitch—” Tess's voice 
cracked and she had to swallow to dampen her scratchy throat. “What is it going 
to take to get you out of my house?"
The woman's face brightened, giving Tess hope that maybe she wouldn't be 
kidnapped or senselessly murdered on her fine oak floor. “Name your price,” Tess 
told her.
The woman's attention flitted to the box of cold medication on the nightstand. 
“Put the tablets into your pocket."
Tess did so immediately, stuffing the box down into the deep, left pocket of her 
sick coat amid a fistful of new and used tissues. “Done."
“And now you will agree to take a trip—"
“Oh, I don't think so,” Tess said with a nervous laugh.
The little woman crossed her arms again. “Miss Harper, I will not be allowed to 
leave here until I have convinced you to agree of your own free will."
“Agree to what?"
“To a visit with your true fate."
“I told you, lady, you aren't getting me out the front door."
The woman smiled mysteriously. “I won't need to take you out the door. You can 
sit right there on your bed if you like. Go ahead. Have a seat."
Tess thought that a rather odd request, but at this point was willing to do just 
about anything to send the bewildering woman on her way. “And you won't kill 
me?"
“I promise I will not kill you,” the woman said impatiently.
“I just sit"—Tess edged over the bed—"right here?"
She lowered herself down to her designer French lace comforter, still keeping 
the candleholder clenched tightly in both hands. “And you'll leave?"
“Now you simply say, ‘Yes, Spiritual Guide, I would like to have a look at my 
true fate.’”
“And you'll leave?"
“Yes. I'll leave."
“All right. Yes, spiraler—"
“Spiritual..."
“Spiritual Guide, I ... I would like to have a look at my true fate."
Tess blinked. Then she spun around in a quick circle. She was standing outside, 
in the middle of nowhere. She still held the candleholder tightly in her clammy 
hands but now the sun was bright and hot on her face, and dust was drifting 
through the air.
Terrified, she looked from left to right, afraid to budge one millimeter more 
than necessary before she'd figured out what had just happened to her. One 
second she'd been sitting on her bed, and the very next, she was standing here, 
on a dirt road, in front of a weathered, wooden sign.
She leaned closer and read the words sweet briar. She glanced down at herself, 
and then at her arms, making sure she was completely intact. She'd never been so 
confused in all her life.
The country road beneath her bare feet was dry and dusty, and she curled her 
toes into the packed earth as a warm wind lifted her hair from her face.
Had she been knocked unconscious and kept that way until finally being released 
on some backwoods road halfway across the country? If that were the case, then 
why was her nose still stuffed from her cold? Why was the candleholder still 
gripped in her hands?
She did another quick mental check of herself. It was as if she'd just appeared 
here in this strange place in a split second of time.
The only sound around her was the wind rustling through the trees, and then a 
low, persistent rumble came from behind her. Tess turned to see a herd of black 
horses bearing down on her like some crazy scene out of Ben Hur. She opened her 
mouth to scream, but her throat was still scratchy and her voice failed her.
Hoofs clamored. Gleaming black bodies thundered closer. But Tess remained too 
stunned to move.
2
“For goodness sake, Miss Harper, get out of the way!” The sharp voice of the 
woman who'd barged into Tess's home broke through, making Tess dive for the side 
of the road. An old-fashioned stagecoach pulled by six black horses went 
rumbling past in a choking swirl of dust.
Coughing, Tess climbed to her feet. Wielding the heavy candleholder, she spun 
around to face the woman. “What in the hell is going on here!"
“I hope you don't plan on jumping in front of stages on a regular basis, Miss 
Harper..."
“When my lawyer gets through with you, lady, you'll be planning Friday night 
dates with women named Death Row Donna!"
“...I can hardly be expected to chase along after you, shouting when you haven't 
got the sense to move."
“That stage driver almost killed me!” Tess screeched. She crammed her hand into 
a pocket of her sick coat, searching for something to write with. “I'm going to 
take down his description and give it to the local police. And then I'm going to 
see to it thatyou are locked up for the rest of your miserable life!"
“Might I suggest that you don't start trouble on your first day in town?"
Unable to find a pen, Tess settled for a tissue, which she used to blow her 
nose. “On mylast day in town! I plan to be on the first plane out of here—and 
don't think for a second that you'll be keeping a penny of that ransom money, 
either!"
“Ransom money?"
“Oh, don't play coy with me. I'm not a fool! It's obvious that you drugged me, 
dragged me across the country, and then ransomed me to my parents!"
“There was no ransom, Miss Harper—"
“And I know you received the money, or you wouldn't be letting me go!"
“I didn't drug you, or receive any money for you. And if you are planning on 
taking a plane out of here, I am afraid you're going to have a very long wait."
Tess gave her a smug look. “I've flown around the world, lady. I think I can 
handle a few hours in an airport."
“How about a few years?"
Tess narrowed her eyes.
“Say ... about sixty?” the woman continued.
“What are you babbling about now?"
“Young lady, I donot babble. And if you would open your ears and close your 
mouth for just a few seconds, I would be able to explain everything perfectly."
Tess closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, noting the sweet scent of trees and 
wildflowers that reminded her of Austria in the spring. “Frankly, I don't care 
what you have to say. No explanations on your part are going to prevent me from 
pressing charges."
Without another word, she turned on her heel and started walking up the dirt 
road in the same direction the stagecoach had gone. “And don't even think about 
trying to get away,” she called back to the woman. “I'll have your face 
ingrained on my memory for the rest of my life."
When she didn't get a response, Tess glanced back to find the woman gone, 
without a trace. She smirked at the empty road. “You may be able to run, lady, 
but you won't be able to hide."
By the time Tess reached the outskirts of some type of civilization, her temper 
was in high gear. Never in her life had she walked so far—and in bare feet and a 
bathrobe no less.
She had a less than relieved smile on her face as she stood at the edge of the 
city. It was a western theme town, complete with clapboard buildings, 
horse-drawn wagons, and tobacco-chewing cowboys. And whoever had named the town 
she'd stumbled intoSweet Briar had a really sick sense of humor: There were 
brambles, and cattails, and thorny pieces of weed stuck all along the hem of her 
robe. She looked like a giant pink cactus.
She listened to the jingle of spurs and the jangle of harnesses and watched the 
tumbleweeds blow past her. “I guess this explains the stagecoach,” she said to 
herself.
Her sinuses were beginning to ache. She pressed her thumb and forefinger to the 
bridge of her nose, telling herself to remain calm, to find the nearest bank, 
and then grab a cab back to reality. Tomorrow she'd be feeling better, and she'd 
be out sunning on her beach.
Her parents had to be worried sick. Well, actually they were probably spitting 
mad that she'd involved them in such a public dog and pony show. The tabloids 
would undoubtedly have a field day at the Harpers’ expense, and Tess would never 
hear the end of it.
She blew her nose, fought a sudden bout of dizziness, and then began walking up 
the street, looking for anything that resembled a bank. It wasn't long before 
she became aware that people were staring at her. But, fuzzy pink robe or not, 
she kept her head high and refused to feel the slightest bit out of place among 
the forgotten cast ofGunsmoke .
When Tess saw the Wells Fargo sign in the distance, she breathed a loud sigh of 
relief. Ignoring the presence of the very stage that had nearly killed her a 
half hour before, she marched straight up to the bank and barged through the 
door.
The small office was full of people, all dressed in period costume, all standing 
in a long, snaking line. But Tess wasn't about to wait. Hers was a desperate 
situation.
She elbowed her way past bustles and leather chaps and up to the teller window, 
where she shoved aside a male customer wearing a coonskin hat. “Pardon me, 
Mr.Boone .” The startled man stepped aside, and Tess met the teller's eye. “I 
need to make a withdrawal."
The short, pinched-faced teller looked her up and down, and then gave her a slow 
shake of his head. “We don't give refunds, ma'am."
“I don't want a refund, I want cash. Cold, hard, cash. My name is Contessa 
Harper, and my account number is 0458-768931. I don't have my wallet with me, 
but you can call the branch in Carmel for verification. I'll take five hundred 
dollars."
The bank had fallen silent. The only sound was the tapping of her manicured 
fingernails on the dull, wood counter. She did her very best to remain patient 
while the teller just stood there, opening and closing his mouth like a giant 
bass.
“Jump on it, pal!” she finally said. “I'm in a hurry here!"
The teller flinched, and then said, softly, “But, ma'am. I don't have that kind 
of money here."
“I said fivehundred , not fivemillion . Take it out of my checking account."
“We don't pay things on account—"
Tess was growing more and more annoyed with the incompetent man. Damn, but it 
was so hard to find good help when you really needed it. “I don't want topay for 
anything!"
The man went rigid. “Then you ain't ridin’ the Wells Fargo."
Though she was not normally high on patience, Tess reached down deep inside 
herself and managed not to explode. “Look ... I want to take money,” she said 
slowly, “that I once putinto my account,out of my account. I bank at the Wells 
Fargo in Carmel—"
“Bank?"
“Yes,” she answered quickly, relieved that at least one of her words had gotten 
through. “I have an account at Wells Fargo in—"
“Ma'am, I don't know nothin’ ‘bout Wells Fargo and accounts. But if it's a bank 
you're after, then the First National is just up the street and to the right."
“Butthis is a bank!"
“This is the stage office, ma'am. The Wells Fargo stage office."
Silence prevailed around Tess, and suddenly she could feel thirty pairs of eyes 
burning into her back. Not a bank? A skittering of embarrassment crept up her 
spine and settled in between her shoulder blades. “Well ... maybe you should 
have made that difference a bit more clear on your sign!” she said and turned 
regally for the door.
She shoved her way through the gawking crowd, and, once back outside, paused to 
look back at the sign hanging above the door. Sure, enough, it said Wells 
FargoStage Office. God, how she hated theme towns, ever since she'd visited a 
medieval village just outside of Denver and been stabbed in the backside with a 
jousting pole.
Her head spun a little as she glanced up the street, squinting in the sunlight 
for the sight of the bank that was supposedly just around the corner.
Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a girl of six or seven came charging forward and 
took hold of Tess's leg. Tess frowned down at a head of dark blond hair, and 
then looked up in search of the little girl's mother. What she saw was another 
girl, no more than thirteen, standing in the stage office doorway, scowling at 
her.
“Let go of my baby sister, lady,” the older girl demanded.
Tess held out her arms. “Do I look like a magnet?"
The older girl's mouth tightened; “Come away from there, Sissy."
“But it's a bear, Holly!” the little girl attached to Tess's leg shouted. “It's 
a pink bear come to help us!"
“That ain't no bear. That's just some lady in a pink coat. Come back inside. 
Uncle Joseph'll be here in a minute."
Tess cringed as the little girl sniffed and wiped her nose on the front of her 
sick coat. “I'm stayin’ with the pink bear."
“If I have to come get you, Sissy Mae, I'm gonna whoop you somethin’ fierce!"
“The pink bear won't let you whoop me!” The little girl's head tipped back and a 
pair of wide green eyes stared up at Tess. “Will you?"
Tess opened her mouth, intending to say something that would promptly disconnect 
the child from her leg, and most likely dissuade her from ever taking hold of 
another one again. Unlike other members of her particular sex, children never 
had held much of an appeal for Tess. They were always crying, or demanding 
something—and forget about trying to make them stand still for more than three 
seconds at a time.
But something in the innocent, trusting face looking up at Tess made her 
hesitate with her usual cutting remarks. Why did she feel as though there was 
something familiar in that sad but hopeful stare?
“Of course I won't,” Tess heard herself reply. She gave the teenager in the 
stage doorway a disapproving glare. “Besides, big sisters should be nicer than 
that."
The older girl clenched her teeth. “Uncle Joseph ain't gonna like this."
“Well,Uncle Joseph should know better than to let this little girl run loose out 
here. She could be abducted right off the street, for God's sake, and the next 
time you'd see her would be on the outside of a milk carton."
“A milk carton?” the teenager repeated with an insolent smirk.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Tess replied. “This child needs looking after. 
Andyou are obviously not capable of keeping an eye on her by yourself."
The older girl's eyes flashed, but before she could respond to Tess's remark her 
mouth snapped shut and her attention rose to a point somewhere beyond Tess's 
shoulder.
Tess turned, squinting into the glare of the sun, and found a broad-shouldered 
man swinging down from a dark horse in the street in front of her. “That's my 
Uncle Joseph,” the little girl attached to her leg whispered.
Her uncle, eh?
Tess squared her shoulders, intent on telling the man exactly what she thought 
of him leaving this poor child to run loose in a tourist town. But as he moved 
closer and came into better focus, every thought that Tess Harper had ever had 
fluttered right out her mind like a leaf in the wind.
He had long brown hair, thick and wavy, and a strong, square chin peppered with 
rugged, dark stubble. He wore dark brown pants that hugged his lean hips and 
were tucked into the tops of a pair of high, leather boots. His white 
button-down shirt thinly covered a wide chest and a pair of broad, muscular 
shoulders that were accented by a pair of black cloth suspenders.
In short, he was utterly gorgeous. However, it was obvious by hisLittle House on 
the Prairie garb that he was one of the actors in town, and Tess had never had 
much of a taste for actors: All they were ever interested in were themselves.
But he was looking directly at her with eyes a deep shade of grass green, and 
Tess found herself at a loss for words. His intense gaze slid down her pink 
bathrobe and settled briefly on her bare feet, and she felt an uncomfortable 
moment of self-consciousness. Then he focused on the girl named Holly.
“You girls have a nice trip?” he asked, in a monotone.
Holly stepped up beside Tess and the little girl named Sissy, who clung ever 
tighter to Tess's leg, and dropped two stuffed burlap suitcases down onto the 
boardwalk. “Nice don't exactly cover it,” the teenager replied.
The man nodded, as if he understood this enigmatic response, and then indicated 
Tess with a jerk of his head. “Who's this?"
Holly shrugged. “Some lady who barged inta the stage office spoutin’ on about 
accounts and caramels. Sissy won't let go of her leg."
Sissy squeezed closer, and Tess found herself absently patting the top of the 
little girl's head. Actually, Tess couldn't understand what all the fuss was 
about. Actor or not, if this hunk of man had come looking for her, she'd be 
falling all over herself to leave with him.
He held out a large, tanned hand, and in her muddled frame of mind Tess almost 
took it, thinking the gesture meant for her. “Come on, Sissy,” he said, his 
voice deep and smooth. “I know this isn't easy. It isn't easy for any of us. But 
we best get to makin’ the most of it."
“I'm stayin’ with the pink bear."
The man's hand fell away, and his eyes met Tess's. “I'm sure the ... that this 
lady has other things she needs to get to."
Tess tried not to focus on his full, sensual mouth, tried to remember that she'd 
recently been kidnapped, and needed to find a bank or at least the local 
authorities.
She tore her gaze away from the girls’ handsome uncle, and looked up the street 
in search of a policeman. Only actors in costume wandered the boardwalks, and 
more than a few of them were still staring at her.
“Look, little girl,” she said to Sissy, “I really do have things to do. Maybe 
you could get your uncle to buy you a root beer or something."
“Beer?” the teenager repeated with a sneer. “You don't give beer to a 
six-year-old."
“Root beer, you little ... you know, you have a real attitude problem. Now, who 
would like to point me in the direction of the nearest police station?"
“You mean Sheriff Wilson?” the uncle asked.
Tess gladly turned her attention back to the attractive actor. If he ever got 
out of this burg and made it to Hollywood, he'd have a bright future with just 
that face of his alone. “Are we talkingreal sheriff, or phony western town 
sheriff?” she clarified.
His perfect dark brows slid into a frown. “As real as they come, I suppose."
“Then he'll do fine."
She felt a tug on her robe and looked down into Sissy's upturned face. “Are you 
an outlaw, Pink Bear?"
“If she was an outlaw, dummy, she'd be hidin’ from the sheriff, not looking for 
him,” the teenager said sharply.
The uncle patted the nose of his restless horse. “If you don't mind my asking, 
ma'am, exactly what is it you need with the sheriff?"
“To report a kidnapping.” Tess couldn't wait to see that little woman and her 
holier-than-thou attitude behind bars. “I was taken from my home in California 
and brought here against my will. I want that woman locked up."
“Woman?” the man repeated.
“The one who kidnapped me. Maybe you've seen her. She's got beady brown eyes, 
and short dark hair. She's about as tall as a troll, and wears a gray suit with 
a bright silk scarf and a strand of pearls."
“And this troll-size woman, in a suit, kidnapped you?"
“Right out of my house early this afternoon."
The man's eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you lived in California."
“That's right."
“And in one afternoon you traveled all the way to Kansas?"
“Well it's not as if we came by horse and buggy."
He stared at her for a long moment, and then turned back to his mount and the 
extra horse he'd brought along with him. “The sheriff's office is up the 
street,” he said to Tess. He turned back to his nieces. “Okay, girls, time to 
head out to the farm."
Tess was still frowning, wondering why the man didn't believe her. She was about 
to remark on his suspicious nature, but instead let out a hoot of surprise when 
Sissy discovered a better place to hide and placed her cold hands on Tess's bare 
knees. The teenager made a grab for her escaping little sister, but Sissy made a 
clean getaway beneath the heavy material of Tess's sick coat.
Tess stood stock still, while fighting another sudden bout of dizziness. “I 
won't go, I won't go, I won't go,” Sissy was chanting.
“Sissy, you come out of there!” the older girl said. “You're embarrassin’ Uncle 
Joseph in front of the whole town!"
Tess glanced back at the crowd of actors that had converged in the stage office 
doorway. “Don't you people have lives!” she shouted.
“I won't come out!” Sissy cried. ‘I'm stayin’ with the pink bear!"
Tess rolled her eyes. If she ever hoped to free herself from this situation 
there seemed to be only one thing to do. She loosened the tie at her waist and 
shrugged out of the robe.
A collective gasp rose up around her, but she chose to ignore it. So it was 
Michael Bolton? So it was a little wrinkled and stained? She'd been kidnapped, 
for crying out loud!
Sissy peered up at her from a crouched position between Tess's knees, and Tess 
gave her a stern look worthy of her old nanny, Mrs. Smalls. “Out of there, young 
lady."
The little girl edged forward, but she still wasn't letting loose of the robe 
that was now draped over Tess's arm. “As you can see I am not a bear,” Tess said 
patiently. “Now you are going to have to let go of my robe and do what your 
uncle says."
The little girl finally moved toward her uncle, sadness and confusion evident in 
her wide green eyes, and Tess felt her heart tug. She looked at the girl's uncle 
and found him staring, blatantly, at her bare legs.
“Excuse me,” she said sharply.
His eyes snapped up to hers.
“I could use a little help here."
He looked a little dazed for a moment, and then held out his hand to Sissy. 
“Come on. Let's get movin'."
“You say this Sheriff Wilson is just up the street?” Tess asked.
“Yep,” he replied. He scowled slightly. “But maybe you should pay a visit to Doc 
Nathan first."
“You think so?” She drew in a breath through her clogged nose. “I suppose that 
walk into town did leave me a little light-headed."
“A little? Come on, Sissy, let's go. Let's leave the crazy lady alone."
Tess's jaw dropped. “Crazy!"
Then Sissy burst into tears. “But ... but pink bears are magical, aren't they, 
Holly?"
“There's no such thing as pink bears, Sissy,” Holly replied.
“But mama and papa—"
“Ma and pa are dead.” Tess was surprised to see the stoic-faced teenager's chin 
tremble. “And all the stupid pink bears in the world won't change that a bit."
Sissy whirled around and buried her face against Tess's stomach. “Oh, Holly,” 
she said, sobbing. “Mama and papa aren't dead! They're in heaven with Jesus!” 
Her head tilted back and she looked up at Tess with tears dribbling down her 
rosy cheeks. “Ain't that right, Pink Bear? They're with Jesus."
Again Tess felt herself drawn in by that teary gaze, and then she recognized the 
expression for what it was. Loneliness. Emptiness. How many times had she seen 
that same hollow look staring back at her from her own mirror?
She opened her mouth to answer the little girl, give her some sort of 
reassurance, but a strong wave of dizziness took her by surprise. Her ears began 
to ring, and the street in front of her began to tilt back and forth. “Pink 
Bear?” she heard Sissy say.
Black sparks danced in front of Tess's eyes, and her legs went numb. The last 
thing she remembered before crumbling to the ground was the image of handsome 
Uncle Joseph lunging toward her.
3
When Tess opened her eyes,she found herself alone, lying on a narrow bed in a 
small room. There was a human skeleton standing in one corner and various 
medical sketches hanging on the four walls around her, and she couldn't help but 
wonder, cynically, if she'd died and all this clutter was supposed to be heaven. 
With the strange things that had been happening to her recently, it wouldn't 
have surprised her one bit.
Her sinuses were pounding again and her eyes were burning, making it apparent 
that her cold medication had worn off. “Time for another overdose."
She sat up slowly, and, once her equilibrium had returned, focused on the closed 
door at her left and tried to remember just exactly how she'd gotten there. She 
had a vague memory of strong arms carrying her across the street and into a 
building.
The door opened, and a tall, gray-haired man with a long thin nose came into the 
room. “Well, hello there, young lady."
Tess steadied herself on the edge of the bed. “What happened?” she asked in a 
raspy voice.
The man smiled and came toward her. “You fainted."
She studied him carefully as he concentrated on taking her pulse. She estimated 
his age at around fifty, and, like all the other people in town, he was dressed 
in nineteenth-century clothing.
“Are you a real doctor?” She wasn't about to just assume that fact, not after 
what had happened the last time.
“Yes.” He gave her a warm smile. “I am a real doctor. And you"—he let loose of 
her wrist—"are a very sick young woman. How long have you been feeling poorly?"
She sniffed at her stuffy nose. “About four days, I suppose.” She wasn't 
actually sure how long ago she'd been abducted from her home. Had it been days? 
A week? Or had it truly been only that afternoon?
“Mmm-hmm. Muscle cramps? Headache? All-over weakness?"
Tess nodded to all three.
“Have you been exposed to anything recently? Influenza? Diphtheria? Measles?"
“I've had all my vaccinations. As a matter of fact, I just received a flu shot 
last month."
The doctor's white brows drew together. “You're joking, of course."
“No. No, I'm not joking.” She didn't like his reaction one bit. “Don't tell me 
that after being stabbed with a syringe the size of the Space Needle I still 
caught the flu."
He looked astounded. “You say you were given an inoculation against influenza?"
“That's right."
“Where?"
“In the arm,” she replied impatiently.
“No, I mean where were you when you received the inoculation?"
“Paris. Just last month. And now you're going to tell me that there is something 
wrong with Parisian flu shots?"
He frowned and walked toward the counter at the other side of the room, 
muttering, “Strange I haven't heard of these flu shots. As for what you've come 
down with, it's hard to guess. Any diarrhea?"
She shook her head.
“Vomiting?"
“No."
He shrugged. “Could be just a cold."
She gave him a hard look. “Would a cold normally make you faint?” She was tired 
of people telling her there was nothing wrong with her. She probably had some 
new form of the plague!
“Young lady, most people who aren't feeling well don't generally walk about town 
half naked."
He gave the picture on her nightshirt a double take, and Tess pressed her lips 
together. “Where's my sick coat?"
“I beg your pardon?"
“My robe."
“Oh. The Maguires are keeping watch over it."
“The Maguires?"
“The man and two girls who brought you in."
Tess nodded. “And I suppose Sissy still has a tight grip on it."
“The little girl's gotten mighty attached to that nappy thing,” the doctor said, 
smiling.
“Well, I'm afraid that until I can get some money from the bank and buy myself 
something decent to wear, that nappy thing is all I have. She's going to have to 
give it back."
The doctor's brows shot up. “I'm sorry, I thought you were new in town. You have 
an account at the First National?"
“I am new in town, but I doubt that will make any difference to the bank when 
they realize who I am."
“And who, exactly, are you?"
“Contessa Harper.” Tess raised her chin and peered down her nose at him. “Of 
Harper Electronics."
Not a flicker of recognition crossed the man's creased face.
“My parents are Travis and Patrice Harper,” Tess added, annoyed that her name 
alone hadn't done the trick.
“Your folks railroad people?"
“Railroad people!” Tess wasn't sure whether to laugh or feel insulted. “Doctor, 
my family owns the largest computer chip manufacturing plant in this country."
“Manufacturing plant,” he repeated, monotone.
“That's right."
“Well, Miss Harper, if you don't have an account at the bank, I don't see how 
the First National is going to help you. Would you like me to send a telegram to 
your family?"
She gave him an incredulous look. “A telegram?"
“Yes. We had a telegraph service put in just last month. Before that we had to 
travel all the way to Wichita. Where did you say you were from?"
“California."
“Well, within just a matter of days I'm sure your family could be contacted to 
arrange some help for you."
“Don't you think it would be a little faster if wecalled them?"
“Called them?"
Tess closed her eyes and said calmly, “Called them on the phone."
“You mean thetele phone?” He laughed and shook his head. “I'm sorry, Miss 
Harper, but we don't have fancy equipment like that this far west."
Tess slipped off the edge of the bed to her feet, deciding she'd had about 
enough of Doc Holiday, here, and this stupid western town of his. If she ever 
hoped to contact home or the proper authorities about her situation she was 
going to have to find herself a better example of civilization.
“How far to the nearest service station?” she asked.
“Service station?"
“Texaco? Exxon? I'll settle for a goddamned 7-Eleven."
He peered closely at her. “Miss Harper, do you know where you are?"
“Oh, yes,” she said with a cynical laugh. “Hell. Hell for sure."
He held up one of his hands a few feet from her face. “How many fingers do I 
have?"
“Hopefully ten."
“Can you tell me how old you are?"
“Sure.” She leaned closer and whispered, “But then I'd have ta kill ya."
“Miss Harper, who is the president of the United States? Can you answer me 
that?"
“A Democratic buffoon who wouldn't know a health plan if it crawled up his leg 
and bit him on the butt—are we finished?"
A crease formed in the center of the scowling doctor's forehead. “Do you happen 
to know the date?"
“Lose your calendar?"
“Miss Harper, I am seriously concerned about your state of mind."
“It's June 17th, 1995. Can I go now, Doctor Frankenstein?” She turned for the 
door.
“Nineteen ninety—Miss Harper! I really think you should take it easy for a few 
days,” the doctor called after her. “Get some rest! Some quiet!"
At least he hadn't told her to brush her teeth and take a shower.
Tess headed out into the waiting room, where she found the Maguires seated on a 
long bench against the wall. Joseph Maguire stood when she approached, but Tess 
walked directly to Sissy, intentionally ignored the pull of the girl's sad green 
eyes, and held out her hand for her robe. “Hand it over, kid."
“Go on, Sissy,” Joseph Maguire said softly. “Give the lady back her coat."
Sissy hesitated, and for a moment Tess thought she'd have to wrestle the 
fifty-pound child to the floor. But then she climbed onto the bench and handed 
Tess the robe.
“Thank you,” Tess said.
The doctor was standing just behind her, whispering to Joseph Maguire what he 
thought about her condition. Tess pulled on her sick coat as she overheard 
snatches of the conversation. The words “fainthearted,” “weak-minded,” and 
“muddled” all came into play. This from a medical man who got confused at the 
mention of a flu shot?
Then, just as Tess was tying the belt on her robe, Sissy launched herself at 
her. Tess had no choice but to catch the little girl as Sissy's small arms 
twined about her neck.
“Sissy!” Holly shouted. “Sissy, you're actin’ like a baby!"
Tess looked over the top of Sissy's head at the girl's uncle. “I have to get 
going,” she said.
“Noooo!” Sissy squeezed until Tess could barely breathe. “Please don't go,” the 
little girl added with a soft whimper. “Please, please don't go."
The forlorn plea stabbed clear through Tess's hard outer core and managed to 
pierce her well-guarded heart. She'd grown up constantly saying good-bye to her 
jet-setting parents, and Sissy's show of emotion was a familiar one to her.
Joseph Maguire stepped forward and reached for his niece, but Tess held tighter 
to the warm body in her arms and pulled away. “What happened to her mother and 
father?” she asked.
“Died,” he answered quietly. “In an epidemic down South."
“And now you take care of them?"
“As of today."
Tess glanced over at Holly, now understanding the stubborn tilt of the girl's 
chin. She knew first hand that stubbornness was a good defense against fear and 
heartache. “This must be very difficult for them."
“It'll take some adjustment on everybody's part,” he replied. “But we'll 
manage."
Sissy sniffed and Tess rubbed the girl's narrow back. “Well, at least they have 
their uncle.” That's a hell of a lot more than I ever had, she added to herself.
A shadow crossed Joseph Maguire's face then, but was gone before Tess could make 
heads or tails of it. He reached for Sissy, and this time Tess gave the child 
up. But the two of them had to wrench the little girl's hands from the robe.
Tess didn't feel any better about the poor little girl's situation once Sissy 
was back in her uncle arms. It seemed that everything dear to the child had been 
torn away from her and she was simply reaching out for some firm hold, like a 
clinging vine.
“Mr. Maguire, do you have any money?” Tess suddenly asked.
The man gave her a startled look.
“I'll pay you back, of course,” Tess went on, “but if I could just buy some 
clothes ... I could give the robe to Sissy to keep. If—if that would help at 
all,” she added, unable to believe she was actually offering to give up her one 
and only security blanket.
There was a slight softening in Joseph Maguire's dark green eyes, making Tess 
feel a little better about her decision. He looked over at the doctor. “Can I 
leave the girls here for a few minutes, Doc?"
“I don't see why not."
Twenty minutes later, Tess was standing alone in the examination room, staring 
at the clothes that had been given to her. One white cotton blouse. Onelong blue 
skirt. One pair of white wool blend stockings with brown and red stripes. And a 
pair of ankle-high shoes with sharp toes.
Instead of spending his precious money on her, Joseph Maguire had apparently 
paid a quick visit to the costume shed.
Tess debated for a moment whether these things were a fair trade for her 
irreplaceable sick coat. Then the image of Sissy's fragile face danced through 
her mind and she groaned, wondering when she'd suddenly gotten so soft-hearted. 
She pulled off her robe and nightshirt and put on the frontier woman's clothing.
Everything fit amazingly well. Even the shoes, though a bit narrow in the toes, 
fit as though she might have chosen them herself—which she most certainly would 
not have done if given the option. It seemed that handsome Uncle Joseph had a 
sharp eye for ladies’ sizes.
Tucking her cold tablets into the front pocket on her voluminous skirt, and 
wrapping the candleholder up in her nightshirt, Tess went back out into the 
waiting room.
“Now that,” the doctor said, smiling broadly at her, “is more like it. Wouldn't 
you say, Joseph?"
Joseph Maguire's intent gaze skated over Tess and then settled on her face. She 
was actually holding her breath, waiting for his opinion.
“It'll do,” he stated, and then turned and picked up Sissy.
Tess managed to hide the sting to her pride caused by his response, realizing 
how silly she was being. She hardly knew the man, for crying out loud, and 
certainly couldn't have cared less what his opinion of her strange attire might 
be.
The little girl curled against her uncle's broad shoulder and stared sadly at 
Tess while clutching the pink robe to her cheek. “Good-bye, Pink Bear,” Sissy 
whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.
“My name is Tess,” Tess replied, trying hard not to let all those tears get to 
her. She reached forward and gave the little girl's hand a quick shake. “It was 
very nice to meet you.” Sissy's sad gaze remained on her until, finally, Tess 
had to look away, not able to comprehend this little girl's devotion to a woman 
she barely knew.
Holly preceded her uncle and little sister out the front door. Joseph turned to 
Tess one last time before leaving. “I, uh, I hope you feel better, ma'am,” he 
said.
Tess nodded, hoping he was referring to her cold and not what the doctor had 
told him earlier. Then Joseph Maguire turned and left, closing the door behind 
him.
“They make a nice family,” the doctor remarked.
“If you're into that kind of stuff,” Tess muttered.
“And I'd say it's about time Joseph had something to care for—besides that land 
of his, that is."
“He's a farmer?"
The doctor sighed. “Determined to prove he is. Now then, what shall we do about 
you?"
Tess sniffled and reached into the front pocket of her skirt for her box of cold 
tablets. “For starters, I could use a glass of water."
The doctor's attention fell to the small box in her hand. “What have you got 
there?"
“Just ordinary cold tablets."
“Cold tablets, eh?"
She pushed one tiny white pill out of its sealed plastic and the curious doctor 
moved in for a closer look.
“You get them in Paris, too?” he asked.
She gave him a baffled stare. “It's just a decongestant and an antihistamine.
“Uh-huh.” He picked the tablet up between his thumb and forefinger and examined 
it carefully. “This do any good on your symptoms?"
“A little."
“Uh-huuuuh. Mind if I keep one?"
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do mind,” she replied, taking the pill back. “By the 
looks of this town I highly doubt I'll be able to buy more if I run out."
“I'll give you three dollars for it,” the doctor said in all seriousness.
Tess laughed. “Three dollars? For one cold tablet?"
“Enough to put you up in a hotel room for the night."
She laughed again. “I think my standards are a little higher than three-dollar 
hotels, Doctor."
“The Fireside Inn is the best in town. Price includes a hot bath."
“Wow. Sounds top-notch."
The doctor shrugged. “Let me know if you change your mind."
He crossed the room to a small round table, picked up a porcelain pitcher and a 
small tin cup, and poured some water for her. “By the way, did you want me to 
send that telegram to your folks in California?"
Tess accepted the drink. “Don't bother.” She downed her cold tablet. “Now. 
Where's this bank I keep hearing so much about?"
Tess stood on the crowded boardwalk, shifting her toes inside her tight shoes 
and staring up at the sign that read sweet briar first national bank in fancy 
black lettering. If she didn't get her hands on a little cash, she was never 
going to find her way back to the real world.
She settled her eyes on the double glass doors before her and waited for a group 
of women to pass. Then she took a deep breath and pushed her way inside the 
bank.
Everything was done in nineteenth-century style, right down to the numerous 
kerosene lamps mounted on the green silk walls. The teller windows consisted of 
one long counter with frosted glass dividers, and Tess strode toward it, across 
a cream and burgundy carpet.
A gangly young man behind one of the windows looked up at her and smiled. “Can I 
help you, ma'am?"
“Yes.” She dropped her bundle of nightshirt and candleholder down onto the 
polished redwood counter with a thump. “I'm afraid I have a problem, though. I 
don't have any identification."
“That's perfectly all right, ma'am. Just tell me your name and I'd be happy to 
look up your account for you."
Tess lifted her chin. “My name is Contessa Harper, of Harper Electronics."
The young man gave her an odd look. “Harper Electronics? Is that a committee of 
some sort?"
Great, another cave dweller, she thought to herself. “No,” she said tightly, “it 
is not a committee, it is a very successful company. One, I might add, that 
could buy and sell this bank fifty times over."
“And you say you have an account here?"
“No, I did not say that. But I will consent to paying any fee for an immediate 
transfer from my bank in Carmel."
“Excuse me—caramel, did you say?"
“Car-mel!” The young man pulled back in surprise, and Tess took a deep breath, 
determined not to let these dime a dozen actors get to her. “Car-mel,” she 
repeated more calmly. “In California."
“Well, ma'am, a transfer from California could take weeks—"
“Not"—she interrupted—"if you use a computer."
“A, uh, computer, ma'am?"
She had finally had enough. She leaned over the counter and gave him a chilling 
glare. “This is an emergency. Time to drop the Billy-Bob routine. Just get on 
your damn computer, or get on your damn telephone, and make the damn transfer!"
“But we don't have telephones—"
“This isn't a game!” she bellowed, and felt every head in the bank turn her way. 
“I'm sure the rest of you bored city-types are enjoying your little vacations 
into wonderland immensely,” she said, looking around the room, “but I just want 
to get my money and get the hell out of here!"
“Ma'am,” the teller began patiently, “I can't give you any—"
Tess scooped up her nightshirt and candlestick and waved the long bundle at him. 
“Do you see this?” she said through clenched teeth. His eyes went round. “This 
is all I have to my name. Now, I am through being nice! I want five hundred 
dollars! Now!"
Gasps went up from the crowd in the bank. A coat tree fell to the floor as a man 
scampered out the front door.
The teller nodded at her, his Adam's apple bobbing erratically. His hands went 
down behind the counter and he started pulling out money from his till.
“Count it out,” Tess demanded. “I won't have you shorting me."
The man started counting as every silent person in the bank looked on. Tess 
stared them all down. After five hundred dollars had been laid on the counter in 
front of her, she scooped up the stack and shoved it into the pocket on her 
skirt. “Thank you very much."
“Uh—you—you're welcome."
“And get a phone in here!” she called over her shoulder as she strode toward the 
double glass doors. “It's the twentieth century, for God's sake!"
When Tess finally stood on the boardwalk she paused for a moment to enjoy the 
sunshine and her five hundred new reasons for security. And then a man shouting 
from across the street drew her attention. “There she is! That's her!"
There were two men standing there across the way, one pointing and shouting. The 
other one took the toy gun out of his holster and pointed it at Tess. She smiled 
at them, wondering what was going on.
“All right now, ma'am,” he called to her, “I want you to put your weapon down."
Tess looked down at the bundle in her hand. “I don't have a—"
“Nice and slow, ma'am."
People were beginning to gather and suddenly Tess understood: She'd been chosen 
as part of a show. “I'm flattered, guys, but I really don't have the time right 
now."
She started to walk away, but was stopped by the gunman's commanding voice. “Not 
another step, ma'am!"
She squinted over at him, amazed at how resolute he seemed. “Can't you just 
choose somebody else?"
“Put it down."
“Look, I don't have time to play cowboy today. I have to find a cab and get out 
of here.” She shook her head, and took one step forward. The loud crack of a gun 
being fired made her cry out and stop in her tracks.
“I'm going to tell you one more time—"
Embarrassed by her reaction to the toy gun being fired, Tess tightened her hand 
around her nightshirt and candleholder. “No,I'm going to tell you one more time, 
mister!” She stepped off the boardwalk and strode out into the street toward 
him. “I'm not interested in playing! I have things to do at the moment!"
Another shot rang out, kicking dust up from the ground at Tess's feet. She 
froze. “Real bullets,” she whispered."Real bullets!"
“Don't make me shoot ya, ma'am. Just put what you're carrying down on the 
ground. Slowly."
Horrified, Tess did as she was told, setting the nightshirt and candleholder 
down in the street. “Oh, you are going to be in so much trouble for this,” she 
whispered to the town at large. “Sooo much trouble."
The tall man who'd been shooting at her stepped forward, the sun glinting off 
the silver badge pinned to his shirt front. He strode right up to her and took 
her by the arm. “Come with me."
“What—where are we going?” she demanded.
“To jail."
“Jail!” He was hauling her toward the small building that had sheriff's office 
painted in the front window. “But why?"
“Because I'm placing you under arrest, that's why."
“Arrest!” She tried to wrench her arm free. “You can't arrest me! I haven't done 
anything wrong!"
His grip tightened. “Ma'am, you keep fightin’ me like this and I'll put ya in 
irons. You're goin’ ta jail and that's that."
“But why?” she cried again.
He paused and pushed back his hat giving her a clear view of the serious intent 
in his crinkled eyes. “For robbin’ the First National Bank."
4
She was going to sue the wholedamn state of Kansas.
Tess stared at the plate of slop posing as her dinner, and readjusted her 
position on the narrow cot she was sitting on. She wanted to scream, but 
clenched her teeth instead, hoping that if she could hold out just a little 
longer the people playing this joke on her would get bored with the idea and let 
her go free.
“Oh give me a home"—hiccup—"where the buff-alo roam"—hiccup—"where the deer and 
the an-telope plaaaay."
Tess closed her eyes against the grating voice of the man in the next cell. She 
hadn't yet figured out if he was really drunk, or if he was just another part of 
the authentic western atmosphere staunchly adhered to by the stupid theme town 
she'd found herself trapped in.
“Quiet down in there, Charlie,” Deputy Bailey called from the desk near the 
door. He was writing by lamplight, his fat body hunched over a sheet of paper 
and an old-fashioned quill pen.
“When are you going to let me out of here?” Tess demanded for the umpteenth time 
since being locked behind a very real set of flat iron bars. “The sun's going 
down and I'm not too thrilled about being stuck inStepford after dark."
“Just settle back,” the deputy replied.
“That's what you said the last time I asked. Listen, I've tried to be patient 
with this charade, Mister Deputy,sir, and, although I'm sure you have some very 
nice door prizes for me when I'm finally let out of here, I amnot spending the 
night in this cell!"
The man lifted his head and stared hard at her. “Plan or not, spendin’ the 
night's exactly what you'll be doin'."
Tess sprang to her feet and charged the cell door. “You can't keep me in here! 
I'm not one of your two-bit actors! I'm Contessa Harper!” She took hold of the 
cold metal bars. “And I plan to sue every damn one of you before this is all 
finished!"
“Ma'am, you robbed the bank. Now, I don't know about where you're from, but 
around here that's a crime."
“I did not rob the bank! I simply withdrew five hundred dollars!"
“Not many who need a Smith and Wesson to withdraw money."
Tess let out a frustrated groan. “I wasn't carrying a gun—"
“But you surely made like you were."
“I didn't—what about my allotted phone call! I know my rights!"
“Phone call?"
She narrowed her eyes. “Don't you dare play stupid with me. If you really are 
locking me up for robbing your precious bank, then I am allowed one phone call."
“You meantele phone?"
“That's right."
“Don't have telephones this far west."
Tess threw back her head and screamed at the top of her lungs. The drunk in the 
next cell let out a disgruntled moan, and the deputy lumbered up from his desk, 
looking like a dog standing too close to a train whistle.
“Don't you do that again!” he warned. “I won't have you disturbin’ the peace on 
top a everythin’ else!"
“I want my lawyer!” Tess shouted.
The deputy waddled toward the far door and snatched his hat off the peg on the 
wall. “And I want some peace and quiet!"
“Where are you going?” Tess demanded.
“I got rounds to make.” He turned on his heel and strode out the door.
“You get back here or I'll—"
“Miss Harper. I told you not to make trouble your first day in town."
Tess turned, slowly, and came face to face with the very reason she was in this 
hellhole in the first place. “There you are, you little—Deputy! Deputy, it's 
her! The woman who kidnapped me!"
“There is no reason for you to panic, Miss Harper. I know this has all been very 
difficult for you—"
“Difficult? Difficult is—” Tess stopped, mid-sentence, and stared hard. “How did 
you get in my cell?"
“How I got in doesn't matter. What matters is that you've put yourself in a very 
bad situation after I expressly warned you to keep yourself out of trouble."
“Well, forgive me. How was I to realize that withdrawing a few dollars out of a 
bank was a felony in the fair state of Kansas!"
“Despite what you've been thinking,” the woman replied calmly, “this isn't a 
simulation. This really is Sweet Briar, Kansas."
“Good. I'll need that little fact for the papers I plan to have drawn up for my 
lawsuit."
“Sweet Briar, Kansas, 1885,” the woman continued. “The town is authentic, Miss 
Harper, as are the people. You asked to look at your true fate, and this is it."
Tess laughed. “Then I must be Annie Oakley."
“You are in the past. This is not a prank. The sooner you come to terms with 
that, the sooner you can get on with your work here."
“Sure it's real. As real as any theme park."
The woman's dark brows went up. “When was the last time Mickey Mouse shot at 
you?"
Tess blinked and turned away. Those real bullets the sheriff had fired at her 
earlier had been nagging at her all evening. “I am not going to listen to any 
more of this."
“Miss Har—"
“No! Go away! Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of, lady! And don't 
bother me again! I have never—"
The words caught in Tess's throat as she looked up and found the sheriff who had 
arrested her standing across the room. “What the hell are you carryin’ on about 
back there?” he asked.
“I want this woman out of my cell, Sheriff,” Tess demanded. “I'm not sure how 
she got in, but—"
“What woman is that?"
Tess turned around. The woman was gone.
Shocked, she rushed to where the lady had been standing and examined the brick 
wall that separated her from the outside world. There wasn't a crack, not a 
crease, not even a trace of debris to show that the wall had been moved in the 
slightest. She checked the floor, stomping her feet against solid rock, until 
satisfied that there were no trap doors. Next she tilted her head back, sure 
she'd find a door in the ceiling, but could imagine no way that the 
four-and-a-half-foot woman could have reached the eight-foot-high ceiling 
without a ladder.
The woman had simply vanished. Into thin air.
Tess turned back to the sheriff, who was watching her intently. She was starting 
to feel light-headed again. “Sheriff?"
The tall, gangly lawman came closer.
“You seem like a straightforward kind of guy. If I ask you a very serious 
question, will you give me an absolutely truthful answer?"
“Absolutely,” he said with a nod.
She swallowed. “Is this, or is this not, a fake nineteenth-century western 
town?"
He frowned. “Fake?—Ma'am, you're standing in Sweet Briar, Kansas. Just sixty 
miles east of Dodge City. They don't come any realer than this."
“But—but the date,” she went on. “When, um, when did this place open?"
“It was incorporated in 1871."
“One hundred and twenty-four years ago,” she finished for him.
“Nooo,” he replied, drawing out the word. “Tha'd be ‘bout ... fourteen years 
ago."
“But that's impossible,” Tess said with a nervous laugh.
“No, ma'am. Remember it well. It was two days before I was elected sheriff for 
the first time."
“But you're asking me to believe that this—that this is the year 1885!"
He leaned closer. “What year did you think it was?"
“Well, it's—it's—” Things were getting jumbled in Tess's mind. She was beginning 
to doubt her own sanity. First there was the Wells Fargostage office; not a 
bank. Then Doctor Nathan and his weird questions—and his very strange interest 
in a common cold tablet. And the sheriff himself and hisvery authentic 
bullets—Tess knew no theme park in their right mind would take the risk of 
having one of their visitors injured just for the sake of realism.
She turned back to where the small woman had been standing, trying to remember 
what she'd said about visiting true fate. That woman was the key to everything. 
And Tess had run her off.
“Ma'am?” the sheriff called to her.
“Yes?"
“You all right?"
Hardly, Tess thought to herself. “When—” she cleared her dry throat—"when can I 
be expected to be released?"
The sheriff pursed his lips. “Well. Considerin’ that gun weren't really a gun. 
And seein’ how the bank does have its money back. I s'pose we could release you 
to family tomorra mornin'."
Family? “But my family's, uh ... my family's in Europe.”Apparently they might as 
well be on the moon .
“You got anybody close by? A friend, maybe?"
She started to shake her head, and then remembered the Maguires. “Joseph,” she 
blurted.
“Joseph? JosephMaguire ?"
“Yes.” It really wasn't a lie. She didknow the man. The sheriff stared at her 
for a long moment and then shook his head. “Shoulda known, I guess. All right, 
I'll have Maguire contacted first thing in the mornin'. In the meantime I 
suggest ya get some sleep."
“Oh, but why in the morning?” She smiled her best sweet smile. “Why not just 
contact him now? Tonight?"
“Because this town would throwme in that cell if I didn't at least keep you in 
here overnight. Folks put a lot of stock in their banks, ma'am. You're lucky one 
of ’em didn't shoot ya himself when you came steppin’ out of those double glass 
doors after stealing their hard-earned money."
“Ididn't—oh, never mind. What will happen when Joseph Maguire arrives? Will I 
finally be let go?"
“After your fine is paid you'll be free to go.” The lawman gave her a serious 
look. “Ifhe comes, that is. Maguire ain't exactly known for his charity work."
Tess was alarmed at this possibility. “What if he doesn't come?"
“Then you're staying right there, until you've served a sentence of no less than 
thirty days."
That said, the sheriff walked back to his desk, leaving Tess to wonder 
frantically if Joseph Maguire was going to be willing to help her or not.
Joseph propped his elbows on the table in front of him and leaned his face into 
his work-roughened hands. The sounds of Sissy's sobs were echoing off the 
earthen walls of the room around him and battering at his nerves. He'd tried 
consoling her, he'd tried distracting her, hell, he'd even tried reasoning with 
her—as if that were possible with any female, let alone one that was only six 
years old. Nothing had worked. He'd always been a bachelor, and never all that 
interested in having children. Now he knew why; he just plain wasn't cut out to 
be a daddy.
“She was just fine till she met that lady, ya know."
He looked up at where his elder niece was sitting across the table from him. The 
wavering orange light from the lantern between them cast dancing shadows over 
her walnut-brown hair and very callous expression.
This wasn't the same Holly Maguire Joseph remembered from last Christmas, a 
young girl full of love and hope. This was an empty shell, devoid of heart and 
soul, missing her parents and no doubt wondering why her life had been destroyed 
this way.
Joseph didn't have any answers for her. And he supposed that was the worst part 
of this whole mess. Here he was, a struggling farmer, suddenly the legal 
guardian of two young girls. He could feed them, clothe them, see that they were 
taken care of if they took sick, but he couldn't give them any of the answers 
they needed when he didn't have any for himself.
Things just happen.
He looked over at the far corner, where Sissy sat crying in the middle of the 
bed she would be sharing with her sister. The little girl was clutching that 
damn pink coat, weeping uncontrollably, and whispering “Pink Bear, come back, 
Pink Bear, come back,” over and over again.
So maybe getting Sissy the coat hadn't been the wisest decision he'd ever made. 
Hell, maybe agreeing to take the girls in the first place had been a bad move, 
instead of doing what he'd felt might be best, placing them in an orphanage to 
be adopted by a good family prepared to raise two girls.
But Joseph had made a promise to his dying brother, that he would give his 
nieces the best life he could, although he now had a sneaking suspicion that 
this dying wish of Matthew's hadn't been only for his two daughters’ welfare but 
for his little brother's as well. Matthew Maguire had often said that nothing 
could slow a wild man down faster than a passel of kids. And by the shape of 
things tonight, Joseph could see that Matt had known exactly what he'd been 
talking about.
“I say you should take the ugly thing away from her.” Holly suggested. “Maybe 
then she'd stop wailing like a two-year-old."
“Maybe you should go over and talk with her, Holly,” Joseph said. “Maybe that 
would help.” He was trying his best to be patient with Holly, but her continued 
lack of warmth toward her little sister's feelings was really beginning to rub 
him raw.
“What good would that do?” she snapped.
“It would let her know that she wasn't alone."
“Well, maybe if she'd stop blubberin’ and open her eyes,” Holly said loudly, 
obviously intending for Sissy to hear, “she would see there are two other people 
in the room."
Unable to stand the crying or Holly's attitude any longer, Joseph lurched up 
from the table and slammed his hand down onto the hard oak. “Enough!"
Holly flinched, and Sissy's sobs cut off with a sharp intake of breath.
Impatience and frustration bubbling inside him, Joseph pointed at Holly. “I've 
had enough of the sour attitude!” He pointed at Sissy. “And enough of the tears! 
This situation will be a difficult adjustment for us all, but if we work 
together and do our best I'm sure we can come to some sort of sensible 
arrangement!"
The one-room house was deafeningly silent.
One good look at Sissy's face told Joseph how much his raised voice had stricken 
her and he instantly regretted his actions. The little girl's damp green eyes 
were bulging and her tear-streaked face had gone white.
Unable to bear the guilt of Sissy's devastated expression, Joseph turned to 
Holly. She was giving him a chilling glare that said any attempt at control on 
his part would always be met with her stiff opposition.
She rose, slowly, from the table. “You are not my father,” she said through 
clenched teeth. “And just because some stupid piece of paper says I have to live 
with you from now on doesn't mean you ever will be!"
Before Joseph could apologize for his outburst. Holly darted from the table and 
slammed out the front door. Cautiously, he looked back at Sissy. Her tiny chin 
trembled. He held out his hand to explain, but with one loud sob, her tears 
burst out like an uncapped Wyoming geyser.
Joseph stared up at the dark ceiling. All hope of ever having another day's 
peace was gone. “Matthew,” he said in a soft steady voice. “You always said 
you'd get even with me for gettin’ inta so much trouble when we were kids. Well, 
you sure have gone and done it.” Sissy's wails cut through the room, making the 
muscles in Joseph's shoulders spasm. “Yes, sir, you surely have done it."
5
The first thing Tess sawwhen she opened her eyes the next morning was the deep 
green gaze of Joseph Maguire staring back at her through the bars of her cell.
She sat up quickly, smoothing down the tangles in her hair. “Good morning."
He didn't respond, just went on staring at her, his expression unreadable.
“I'm sorry to have to drag you from your home this early in the morning, Mr. 
Maguire.” She stood and pulled at the yards of the heavy blue cotton skirt that 
had wrapped around her legs over night. “But, under the circumstances, I wasn't 
sure what else to do."
“Fine's five dollars,” the sheriff called from his desk.
Tess walked toward her ruggedly handsome rescuer, who stood there motionless, 
watching her. He was wearing a light-colored shirt that hugged the span of his 
broad shoulders and enhanced his powerful chest. His expression was blank, and 
she had an urge to reach out and snap his black suspenders to be sure he was 
paying attention.
Then he moved slightly, straightening, giving her a clearer view of his face, 
and the quick patter of her heart told Tess that she hadn't imagined his effect 
on her the day before. Hewas utterly gorgeous, and, unfortunately, completely 
indecipherable.
His silence was beginning to unnerve her. “This isn't a zoo, Maguire. Are you 
here to help me or not?"
His eyes narrowed, but he still didn't speak.
“Look, I'm in sort of an uncomfortable situation, here, and would appreciate it 
if you would give me at least some kind of response. You do know that the 
robbery was a mistake, don't you?"
“Ya got that right.” the sheriff replied loudly.
Despite her aggravation with the lawman for forcing her to spend the entire 
night in jail just to soothe the bitter attitudes of his town, Tess kept her 
attention on Joseph. “I did not go into that bank intending to rob it. I was 
only trying to withdraw some money from my account, and that ... thatidiot 
teller took everything I said the wrong way. If you ask me,he should be the one 
behind these bars."
“You got some place to go?” Joseph finally asked.
It was not the question Tess wanted to hear, but at least the man had spoken. 
“No. Not at this exact moment."
“Then you and I are gonna make a deal."
Tess blinked. “A deal?"
“I pay your fine ... and you come stay at my place."
Startled, Tess stepped back. “I beg your pardon?"
“You'll have a roof over your head, and three squares a day, and in return 
you'll work—"
“Work! You're out of your mind, mister!"
“You'll work around the farm and help out with the girls to pay me back,” he 
continued. “That's my offer. You can take it or leave it."
“Well,you can take it and shove it all the—"
The sheriff cleared his throat. “Looks to be ‘bout the only offer yer gonna get, 
ma'am."
Tess stared at the two men, exasperated, not sure when or why the world had 
suddenly turned against her. “Why me?” she shouted. “I don't know anything about 
farms—and even less about children!"
“Because Sissy hasn't stopped cryin’ for you since we left yesterday,” the man 
answered impatiently. “I could barely get her to sleep last night, and it was 
almost near to impossible to get her off to school this mornin'."
Sissy. The little girl's disheartened face flashed through Tess's mind and she 
felt a surge of sympathy pull at her heart. But what in the world did she, Tess 
Harper, a woman who didn't know a diaper from a doormat, know about taking care 
of children? “Mr. Maguire, although I can appreciate your situation, I'm afraid 
I'm not exactly the—"
“That's the deal,” he cut in. “Like I said, you can take it or leave it."
She stared at him. “Are you saying that if I don't come to your farm and play 
nanny you'll leave me here in jail? Is that what you're telling me?"
“That's what I'm telling you."
“Terrific!” she shouted. “Kidnapped by a time-warping troll and blackmailed by 
Old MacDonald!"
“You've got five seconds to give me your answer."
Oh, Tess had an answer for him: that he could kiss her round white bottom and 
then go straight to hell! But, for obvious reasons, she felt a definitive remark 
like that wouldn't be the best response to give at the moment. After all, she 
was 110 years from home, without a penny to her apparently very useless name, 
and this man seemed to be her only hope for food and shelter at the moment.
“All right, fine. I'll come and play house with you. But don't get too used to 
me, farm boy, because as soon as I get my hands on the pint-sized witch who 
brought me here, I—am—gone!"
“You'll be free to go once you've worked off the five-dollar fine I'm about to 
pay."
Tess squared her shoulders and gave Joseph Maguire a contemptuous look. She'd 
never done a menial day of labor in her life, but even a monkey with half a 
brain had to be able to work off five dollars. “That should take all of about 
ten minutes,” she replied.
“The pay's two bits a day."
“Two bits?"
“Twenty-five cents."
Her jaw dropped. “That's twenty days! I am not staying with you for three 
weeks!"
Joseph Maguire shrugged. “Then I guess we've got nothin’ else to say."
He turned away and a burst of alarm shot through Tess. “Wait! You can't just 
leave me here for a month!"
He looked back at her. “Watch me."
Tess clenched her jaw, knowing this was one fight she wasn't going to win. “I'll 
take the deal."
He turned. “I'm sorry, what was that?"
Knowing damn well he'd heard her loud and clear the first time, she repeated her 
answer with not only more volume but more rancor. “I said I'll take the goddamn 
deal!"
“Three weeks?"
“Three weeks,” she grumbled.
His eyes narrowed again, an obvious habit, and Tess bitterly imagined him with a 
nice, thick pair of horn-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose. “You 
give me any problems,” he said, “and I'll bring you right back here, lady. Do we 
understand each other?"
Tess glared an invisible hole right through the man, swearing she would make 
each and every one of the next twenty days a living hell for him. He was waiting 
for her reply and she gave him a curt nod.
“You keep all those dark thoughts of yours tucked inside your head where they 
belong and you and I will get along just fine.” He reached into his pocket for 
some money which he then handed to the sheriff.
“In a pig's eye,” Tess grumbled. The last thing in the world she wanted was to 
“get along” with this jerk.
The sheriff stepped forward with the keys to the cell, and within seconds Tess 
was free. She was handed her nightshirt with the gold candleholder tucked 
inside. “I'll expect you two to keep out of trouble,” the sheriff warned.
Tess opened her mouth to remark, but then realized she hadn't been the only one 
included in on that warning. While she wondered why, Farmer Joe gave her a look 
that meant pure challenge. “I'll see to it,” he responded to the sheriff.
Well. Tess certainly had news for the two of them. Nobody controlled her. Nobody 
told her what to do, when to do it, or even how. And as soon as she got the 
chance, she'd be leaving Sweet Briar and Joseph Maguire behind in a dark cloud 
of twentieth-century dust!
After a few good bounces, Tess managed to climb up into Joseph's wagon—a rickety 
contraption made of warped, splitting boards—and seated herself on an unsteady 
bench supported by rusted, creaky springs. People paused to stare, but she 
didn't care what they thought of her or whether they believed she'd robbed their 
bank or not. She was perfectly normal and perfectlyinnocent , and as far as she 
was concerned that was all there was to the matter.
Joseph climbed up beside her and picked up the long leather reins. “Next time 
wait for me to give you a hand up and you won't have to hop all over the place 
like a drunken jackrabbit."
She gave him a sharp look. “Did you pull your manners out of a Cracker Jack box, 
or is this considered charm aroundthese here parts ?"
There was a moment of tense silence and then he slapped the reins over the backs 
of the two horses in front of them and headed the wagon off down the street. 
Tess was thrown to the side and had to grab for the seat beneath her, holding on 
for dear life as the lumbering conveyance bounced and lurched down the pot-holed 
road.
“You own anything besides what ya got there?” Joseph Maguire asked loudly over 
the rattle of wheels and traces.
Tess glanced down at the wadded up nightshirt in her lap, reminded of the fact 
that at the moment this was all she had to her name. She'd never felt so poor in 
her life. “Plenty,” she responded, and then added, imperiously, “As if that's 
any of your business."
Joseph squinted into the early morning sunshine. “Anything handy?"
“You mean like a seat belt?” she snapped.
Ignoring her remark, he guided the wagon to the edge of the street, pulling up 
short in front of a ladies’ clothing shop which proclaimed “ready-made” clothes 
on a sign in its window. “You're gonna need more than what you got there to get 
you by for the next couple of weeks.” He pulled back a wooden lever on the side 
of the wagon, which Tess dearly hoped set the brakes, and jumped down to the 
boardwalk. And then he just stood there, like a brainless twit, staring at her 
expectantly.
So Tess stared right back.
“You comin’ or not?” he finally said.
“After all I've been through in the past two days, Mr. Maguire, I'm afraid 
you're going to have to be a little more specific about where you plan to take 
me."
He glanced over his shoulder at the ladies’ clothing shop behind him. “Figgered 
that would be obvious."
Tess blinked. He wanted to take her shopping? Spending money being one of the 
things she did best, her attitude instantly lightened. “Well, who am I not to 
accommodate a man in a generous mood?” she replied.
She set her bundle on the seat beside her and climbed down from the wagon. Her 
skirt tangled around her legs and almost did her in, but she managed to make it 
in one piece to where Joseph was standing on the boardwalk. “Should I consider 
this little spending spree a peace offering, Mr. Maguire?"
“Consider it anything you like,” he replied.
“Then perhaps you'rere considering this little arrangement between us that 
you're so set upon?"
He smiled broadly, making her hopes soar—and making her heart pound just a 
little too quickly. “Reconsidering?” he replied with a twist of his lips. “Oh, I 
don't think so, Miss Harper. I'm too looking forward to seeing you knee deep in 
pig shit."
He turned and walked away and Tess glared bullets at his back, wishing she had a 
sturdy baseball bat to whack him over the head with. This was one man she was 
going to love putting through the wringer. He looked back over his shoulder at 
her, and she reluctantly followed along behind.
A bell tinkled over the door when they entered the shop, and the woman behind 
the counter looked up. “May I—” The woman's ready smile froze. She blinked a few 
times, as if not quite sure of what she was seeing. “What is it I can do for the 
two of you?” she then continued in a clipped tone.
Tess arched her brows. Apparently everyone in town had heard about her little 
run-in with their precious bank. “Get a better attitude for starters,” she 
replied.
“The lady here needs a skirt, a shirt, a pair of hose, a nightdress, an apron, 
and a bonnet,” Joseph announced. Tess rolled her eyes at the mundane list: She'd 
apparently be dressing in early nineteenth-century relic style, like everyone 
else. “Why not throw in a chastity belt for a bit of added color?” she asked 
him.
The look Joseph Maguire gave her was incredulous, and Tess had to bite her lip 
to keep from bursting out laughing.
“I'm assuming you intend to pay for all this in cash,” the woman said to them 
with a cool expression on her narrow face.
“That's right,” Joseph said while Tess tried to get over what she felt was a 
rather tacky question to ask a customer.
“Because you are aware, I'm sure, Mr. Maguire, that we will not accept your 
credit here."
Joseph stiffened, and Tess decided she'd heard about enough. “Mr. Maguire would 
never dream of opening an account here, lady. As a matter of fact, if we weren't 
nothing short of desperate we wouldn't have even stuck our noses into your 
dilapidated excuse for a store. Tell me, are the moths free, or are they 
included in the price?"
The saleswoman's mouth dropped so far open a Lear jet could have flown in, but 
before Tess could twist the knife any more Joseph cleared his throat. “We're in 
hurry, Mrs. O'Neil,” he said softly.
“Undoubtedly,” the woman replied. “The devil waits for no one.” She scurried 
away and began gathering the items that Joseph had asked for.
Tess leaned closer to Joseph and whispered, “And she'd know that better than 
anybody."
“Would you shut up,” Joseph said under his breath.
Tess gave him sharp look. “And let her get away with treating me like a leper?” 
She glanced over at where the saleswoman was fluttering about the store, piling 
clothing into her arms like an anemic little bee gathering pollen. “I wouldn't 
dream of it."
“Then maybe you'd like to dream of sleeping in that jail cell I found you in for 
another month?"
She was amazed that he was threatening her—and after she'd just stood up for 
him, for God's sake! His look was hard, intense, and she knew he wasn't 
bluffing. Hating to give in, still she clamped her lips shut and didn't say 
another word, even as Joseph paid for the purchases, picked up the packages of 
clothing, and led her back out onto the boardwalk.
It was working up to be one hell of a hot day. Though still only mid-morning, 
the sun was already beginning to heat up the air and the unrelenting Kansas 
breeze. Tess hated the heat, unless, of course, it was accompanied by a 
refreshing ocean breeze and a tall, cool drink with one of those tiny umbrellas 
hanging over the rim. She highly doubted Joseph Maguire would be interested in 
making her one, however.
As he tossed the two brown paper parcels he'd purchased into the back of the 
wagon, Tess climbed on board and settled herself onto the tottery bench. A group 
of women paused on the boardwalk to whisper and point at her. Tess raised her 
hand and waved eagerly. “Hello, Auntie! Hello, Cousin!” she called. “So very 
nice to see you again!"
The women glanced around their private circle and then started bickering back 
and forth, while Tess sat back and smiled.
The wagon seat bobbed as Joseph climbed up and sat beside her. “You know those 
women?” he asked, tossing the ugly yellow bonnet he'd bought for her into her 
lap.
“Nope,” she replied, still bitter about the way he'd spoken to her in the store.
He gave her another one of his disconcerted looks and took up the reins. “You 
are one hell of a strange woman,” he muttered. “One hell of a strange woman.” 
Then, with a command to the horses, they were on their way.
If Tess thought the tiny town of Sweet Briar was remote, it was nothing compared 
to the location of Joseph Maguire's farm. They rode from town and out into the 
middle of nowhere, where the road narrowed and the flat golden prairie seemed to 
never end. The wind gusted, the dust blew, and Tess believed she'd suffocate 
before ever reaching shelter. With a frustrated shove, she hooked a few annoying 
strands of flying hair back behind her ears. “It's like a damn hurricane out 
here,” she finally snapped.
“And it's a hot sun today. You best put on that bonnet I bought you before you 
fall into the road."
She looked down at where the tacky yellow thing with tiny red flowers lay limply 
in her lap, and pictured herself with it on. Her mother's disapproving face 
flashed through her mind and she grimaced. “I'd rather not."
“Sunstroke can be a whole lot worse than a bad hat, lady."
Nonetheless, Tess refused and her hair continued to whip around her face, 
catching in her eyes and mouth. Finally she let out a frustrated groan and 
Joseph gave her a sidelong glance. She straightened her shoulders, determined to 
tough it out, and he looked away, shaking his head.
They traveled on for a few more minutes, up and over a low rise and through a 
grove of trees. The blowing wind and dust increased, wreaking havoc on Tess's 
hair and her stuffy nose. She didn't need a bonnet, she needed a damn oxygen 
mask! “How much farther is it?"
“Another bend or two."
“And what the hell does that mean, ‘another bend or two'? Haven't miles been 
invented yet? Ten steps past the dead possum in the road, left to the moonshine 
still, and onward till you trip over the dead cow?"
When no response came from the man beside her, Tess turned and stared at him, 
itching for a good fight. But Joseph didn't oblige her. He only squinted up at 
the bright, hot sun, and then settled his attention back on the road in front of 
them.
“You're one of those passive-aggressive types, aren't you, Maguire?"
He didn't even look her way.
“Oh, I can spot you guys a mile away. Thinking the best course of attack is no 
attack at all. Well, it won't work on me, pal, because, frankly, your ability to 
keep your mouth shut is the best present I've ever had."
“And I can see this won't be a giftexchange ,” he remarked.
“Oh, is my talking bothering you? Well, I guess you'll just have to get used to 
that over the course of the nextthree weeks, won't you, mister big shot 
deal-maker?"
“The girls won't be home from school for a few more hours..."
“Good,” Tess snapped. “I could use a nap after last night."
“...so you'll have plenty of time between now and then to catch up on the 
laundry."
Tess snapped her attention toward him."Laundry?" The only thing she did with 
clothing was buy it and put it on. She opened her mouth to tell the pompous 
farmer as much, but he distracted her by pointing at something ahead of them.
“There it is,” he stated.
They'd come around a bend in the unpaved, wheel-rutted road, and there, sitting 
nestled amidst a stand of towering, leafy oaks, was a bright red barn with a 
split-rail fence jutting out from the south side and circling around to the 
east. Tess had to admit it was a pretty sight.
The wagon rolled closer and various forms of farm life came into view—and within 
smelling range. White and red chickens clucked behind a short wire fence, pigs 
snorted in the mud in their private pen, a goat bleated from where it lay 
resting in the tall shady grass outside the barn, and cows lowed from the 
pasture beyond. It was a scene straight out ofRebecca of Sunnybrook Farm .
“I think you forgot dogs,” she remarked.
“Huntin’ dogs are kept in the kennel in the north pasture."
She rolled her eyes. “Of course."
It was the perfect rural picture, but Tess couldn't get over the feeling that 
something was missing, and, as they approached the barn, she began to search the 
scenery.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “Where's the house?"
With a jerk of his head, Joseph indicated to his left. “Over there."
Tess looked past him. All she saw was a hill. “Where?"
This time Joseph pointed with his finger. “There,” he said gruffly.
Tess squinted, thinking maybe it was a ways off in the distance. And then she 
saw something that made her breath catch. There was a small wooden door attached 
to the front of the steep, grassy hill fifteen yards away. She was about to deny 
what she was thinking, until she noticed a faint stream of black smoke coming 
from a hole somewhere at the top of the rise.
Her mouth fell open. “You live in a cave?"
“It's a sod house.” He set the brake, and jumped down from the wagon.
"Oh my God!"Tess wailed."You live in a cave!"
He circled around to lift the bags of clothing out of the back of the wagon, and 
then paused beside her. “It's a sod house,” he repeated firmly. “Now, are you 
comin’ or not?"
Tess was sitting, frozen, staring at the ominous hillside this man called a 
house. “Not,” she replied, her tone low and rigid, “in a million years."
“It's roomier on the inside than it looks."
“I don't care if it's the Taj Mahal on the inside. I don't care if it's the size 
of the whole damn Grand Canyon! I am not putting a toe past that rickety door!"
Joseph set the bags he was carrying on the ground, and folded his arms across 
his broad chest. Then he stared up at her, hard. “You wanna go back?"
“To jail?” Tess responded with a short laugh. “Oh, Mr. Maguire, could I?"
“'Cause I'll take ya back right now, no questions asked."
“How big of you."
Irritation flickered in his eyes, and she knew she was beginning to push him too 
far. “Listen, lady. That's the house. And, unless you plan on sleepin’ in the 
yard, that's where you'll be stayin’ while you're here."
“I'm claustrophobic, Maguire. I'd rather sleep up a tree than in whatever 
cramped dark surprise lies behind door number one."
His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“For you cave-dwelling types, claustrophobic means I can't handle closed-in 
spaces. In short, I'll panic, seek escape, and kill anything, andanyone, that 
stands in between me and freedom."
He studied her for a moment, and then glanced off in the direction they'd come. 
He was considering taking her back, she could see it in his expression. There 
was no other way around it; she had to give him—and herself—an alternative.
One quick glance around the farm gave her the solution. “How about there?"
Joseph raised his dark brows at where she was pointing. Sure, it was a barn, 
Tess thought. But it was a hell of a lot better than a dug-out cave, or, for 
that matter, a cell.
“It'll do just fine.” she stated. And it'll only be for a few days, she promised 
herself. Just until she could summon up the conniving little woman who'd brought 
her there and get herself the hell home.
“All right,” Joseph replied, and began carrying the packages into the barn.
It wasn't until Tess actually set foot in the barn, however, that she realized 
just howun fine staying there was going to be. She'd be sharing her living 
quarters with Olivia, better known as the goat who ate Milwaukee—Tess hadn't 
been in the barn ten seconds before the animal had started snacking on her 
skirt. And on rainy days all the other animals would be consigned to the barn as 
well. That meant four pigs—with two litters of piglets, two horses, a milking 
cow, and any other forest friends who happened to desire shelter for the time 
being.
She would be sleeping on a blanket thrown over a pile of hay—that she would have 
to freshen each day on her own—using an old tree stump for a table, chair, or 
any other piece of furniture she chose to dub it, and washing herself from a 
bucket of cold well water.
She stared up at the cob-webbed rafters of the barn and whispered, “You'd better 
hide from me, lady. Because when I get through with you, you won't have a neck 
left to hang those priceless pearls from."
Joseph Maguire came striding into the barn at that moment with a bucket of 
sloshing water hanging from his hand. “Thought you might like to freshen up."
Tess tried not to notice how his biceps strained the sleeves of his shirt as he 
set the bucket on the fat, three-foot-high stump. It really aggravated her that 
somebody so irritating was in fact so damn attractive.
“I dub thee a bathroom counter,” she mumbled to herself as she stared at her 
makeshift sink. The sight of the cool clear water made her reach up and lift her 
hair from the back of her itchy neck. “What I'd really like is a bath."
“There's a creek out back."
“A creek?” she repeated disdainfully. “As in fish live in it?"
“As in do with or do without."
She dropped her hands to her sides. “I don't suppose you'd let me use your 
bathroom."
“Bathroom?” he repeated, smiling slightly.
“Lavatory? Latrine? ...Toilet ?"
“The outhouse is out back behind the barn."
Tess's fingers clenched into white-knuckled fists. “Mr. Maguire, I may be 
willing to dress like Mother Hubbard. I may be willing to live out of a barn 
like a vagrant. But I will not be peeing in a hole!"
He leaned forward to say snidely, “Then you're bound to get mighty 
uncomfortable, aren't ya?"
“I can't believe this!” Tess shouted. “How do you live this way? Out of a cave, 
with"—she nudged a clucking chicken away with her foot—"with smelly animals 
living and multiplying outside your front door!"
“This is a farm, Miss Harper. Animals are sort of a given."
“Well, I don't like it!"
“You don't have to like it. You just have to live with it."
She was going to kill him. She was going to knock him to the ground and shove a 
chicken down his throat.
“The girls oughta be home in about three hours.
I've started a fire by the clothesline, and put the washtub on to heat. Go easy 
on the soap."
He began to walk away, and she shouted, “I amnot washing your clothes!"
He turned back, a merciless look in his eyes. “Then you've decided to return to 
jail?"
Tess glared at him, hating him for continually holding that cell over her head. 
But hate him or not, she was smart enough to know that you didn't bite the hand 
that fed you—at least not too hard. However, she had to clamp her jaw tight to 
keep from shouting that she'd ratherrot in a cell than be stuck here beneath his 
callused thumb:
“Nothin’ else to say?” Joseph asked, his brows arched arrogantly. “Good. Like I 
said, Miss Harper, easy on the soap."
6
Tess ground her teeth togetherand picked up the next article of clothing. The 
muscles in her back and shoulders were screaming, her hands were red and sore, 
but she'd be damned if Joseph Maguire and a few menial chores were going to get 
the better of her. She'd show that backwards farm boy just exactly what she was 
made of.
She was paying little attention to the fragile material she was wrenching around 
in the soapy water, not caring that she'd already torn two holes in one of 
Joseph's shirts. She figured that was the price he would pay for not calling in 
a professional.
The man really believed he had her over a barrel, that was pretty clear in his 
arrogant swagger and smug attitude. But no one ever got the better of her for 
long.
She wrung out the sodden shirt, ignoring the layer of soap still clinging to the 
dark material, and turned to hang it on the line along with all the other 
clothes she'd washed that morning. Olivia, the goat, bleated beside her and Tess 
looked down to see that the animal had found herself a noontime snack: a pair of 
Joseph's pants.
She smiled and patted the goat on its bony white head. “Enjoy yourself, Olivia. 
And when you're done there, I'll give you a pair of his long underwear for 
dessert."
When the wash was finally finished, Tess leaned back against the side of the 
barn and dried her chapped hands on the front of her apron. She studied her sore 
fingers and gasped at the condition of her manicure. Between the wind and the 
wash, she was going to dry up and blow away before she ever made it back home 
where she belonged.
“Tess!"
She looked toward the distant stand of oaks and saw Sissy Maguire running toward 
her. The kid was grinning from ear to ear, bounding over tree stumps and 
chickens, flailing her arms like a fallen sparrow.
Tess smiled hesitantly, not sure how to react to such an unabashed show of joy 
on her behalf, but when Sissy flew into her arms, she hugged the child to her.
“Oh, Tess!” Sissy cried. “I knew you'd come. I just knew it!"
Tess patted the girl on the back, and glanced up to see Holly approaching, 
sorely lacking the enthusiasm Sissy had just displayed. “Looks like we've been 
handed off again,” Holly remarked.
Though understanding her anger at the world, Tess couldn't quite tolerate the 
girl's attitude. “Your Uncle Joseph has asked me to stay and help out for a 
little while."
“You?You're nothin’ but a crazy lady. I heard about what you did at the bank, 
and I think they should lock you up in jail and throw away the key."
Tess smiled tightly. “You really are the sweetest thing, Holly."
“At least I'm not a criminal who wanders around town wearing a stupid pink 
coat,” the teenager retorted.
“Stop that, Holly!” Sissy shouted. “Just ‘cause you had a bad day at school 
don't mean you get to take it out on Tess! And Ma says it ain't nice to throw 
stones!"
“Ma ain't around to do nothin’ about it, though, is she!"
The breath caught in Sissy's lungs. “You better not talk like that, Holly,” she 
said quietly. “You're gonna make God angry."
“God never listens to anything anybody says,” Holly shot back. “If he did"—she 
gave Tess a hard look—"we wouldn't be here."
The girl spun on her heel, stormed across the yard, and went into the sod house 
with a slam of the door. Tess stared after in her silence, stunned that so much 
anger and hostility could be found in someone so young.
Sissy tugged on her apron. “That's not true, is it, Tess?” she asked with tears 
in her eyes. “God listens, doesn't he?"
Never having been particularly religious, Tess's first impulse was to tell the 
little girl that a person's best bet was to always count on themselves, not on 
some intangible, ageless phantom who could only be found in dusty tomes of 
religious literature. But Tess also knew that hope was a powerful thing. Hope 
had gotten her through many lonely days and nights when all she'd wanted was to 
grow old enough and important enough to deserve her parents’ love. Tess couldn't 
imagine how she would have made it through childhood if she'd had even an 
inkling that no age she could ever reach, no measure of maturity she could ever 
attain, would ever make her worthy of Travis and Patrice Harpers’ attentions.
“Of course it's not true, Sissy,” she replied. “I'm sure God listens sometimes."
“But with so many people in the world, he'd have ta have a whole lot of ears."
“They're called angels.” Tess and Sissy both glanced up to see Joseph striding 
toward them. He appeared tired, dirty, and still remarkably good looking—damn 
the man. “And they'realways listening,” he added, staring pointedly at Tess.
“You been rolling around in a puddle?” Tess asked. “Or do you always turn to mud 
after lunch?"
His gaze locked on her face as he took off his hat and hit it against his thigh. 
A big brown cloud of dust rose up in the air around him. “I'vebeenworkin' , Miss 
Harper,” he responded, a pointed attack on her lack of activity at the moment. 
He tossed the hat to the ground, and leaned his shovel against the barn wall.
“Oh, I've been workingreally hard on your clothes, Maguire. I'm sure you'll see 
amarked difference."
His eyes narrowed.
“Uncle Joseph says he's gonna get me and Holly a pony,” Sissy said excitedly. 
“But first he hasta lengthen the fence so's the pony'll have room ta run."
“The pony's to be raised up and sold, Sissy,” Joseph warned. “You best remember 
that."
Tess stared at the man in horror. “Why would you give them a pony and then turn 
around and sell it?"
“Because I can double my money."
She watched him in disbelief as he walked to the pump at the center of the yard. 
As fond of a healthy profit as she was, even Tess knew that to give two girls a 
pony, let them get attached to it, and then sell it right out from under them 
was pretty low to the ground.
“Uncle Joseph says we'll get to keep him for a whole year!” Sissy said.
“How magnanimous of him,” Tess remarked.
Joseph paused to glance back at her, then bent to the pump and worked water out 
over his neck, letting it run in a heavy stream over his head to puddle at his 
feet. When he was finished, he combed his fingers through his thick, wet hair, 
and turned back to Tess.
“It'll be the girls’ job to take care of the colt, Miss Harper. I wouldn't want 
you feeling as if you had too much to do around here."
“Really? Are they your little servants in training? Gearing them up to take my 
place when I'm gone?"
Joseph put his hands on his hips and looked up at the sky, suggesting a distinct 
thinning of patience that only served to give Tess a tingle of anticipation. 
She'd always appreciated a good knock-down-drag-out fight—because she never 
lost. “Sissy, go on into the house and help your sister shuck peas for supper,” 
he said.
“Yes, Uncle Joseph.” She started to walk away, but then turned back and threw 
her arms around her uncle's waist. Joseph looked a little uncomfortable for a 
moment, but then he gave the little girl's back a tight squeeze. “Thank you for 
bringing Tess here to stay with us.” She gave Tess one last impish grin, and 
skipped across the yard and into the sod house.
“Charming child,” Tess commented, bringing Joseph's attention back to her.
She could tell, by the dark look that came back into his eyes, that he wasn't 
about to forget her comments so easily, and she almost smiled with eagerness. 
She lifted her chin and waited as he wiped his hands on the front of his filthy 
shirt and slowly approached her.
“I think,” he began, “that you and I need to get a few things straight."
Oh, yes, they definitely did, Tess thought to herself.
He stopped just in front of her. “You see, I get the feelin’ that you consider 
yourself put upon ... maybe even taken advantage of, in fact. Unfortunately, I 
don't give two good damns about how you feel."
Wow, what a major surprise!
“In fact, to be honest, Miss Harper, your comments and your cute little remarks 
are really beginning to chap my ass. And if I didn't know better, I'd think you 
were ungrateful for the generosity I showed you by payin’ your way out of jail."
"Generosity?"Tess repeated gearing up her engines. “You've cast me into bondage, 
Mr. Maguire, bought me like a plantation slave, and you expect appreciation for 
what you call yourgenerosity ?"
“All I'm asking for is a little help."
“You certainly didnot ask me anything!"
“You were given a clear choice."
“There was no choice, Maguire, and you damn well know it!"
He took a fast step toward her and she slammed back against the barn wall. She 
blinked, stunned that he was being so forceful. “Any time you wanna reconsider, 
lady,” he said, looming above her, “you just let me know."
Tess swallowed convulsively. Her heart was speeding like a high-powered race 
car, and she was suddenly finding this whole confrontation just a tad 
unsettling. But she couldn't let him get the upper hand.
She put her hands against his broad chest and tried to shove him back from her. 
He didn't budge an inch. “I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of seeing me put 
back behind those bars!” she shouted up into his face.
“Then I suggest you do each task I give you with a smile and a sweet 
disposition, lady. I've got a kennel full of hounds and plenty of bitches to go 
around already."
Tess gasped. Nobody had ever dared to talk to her like this before, and she'd be 
damned if she was going to start putting up with it now. She raised a hand to 
give him a good slap across the face, but he took hold of her wrist and 
deflected the blow. “However,” he went on, as if she were a fly glancing off 
him, “if you're set to give me trouble, don't think I'm gonna take it lyin’ 
down."
“Are you going to get the shackles next, Maguire? Are you going to chain me to a 
post and whip me into submission? No wonder you need to search jail cells for 
help around here! No woman in her right mind would help you willingly!"
It was instantly apparent to Tess that she'd struck a nerve with that remark. 
Joseph's jaw clenched into rock solid granite, and his eyes took on a murderous 
light. He let go of her wrist and moved a step back from her, his fists clenched 
at his sides.
“Just do your job, Miss Harper,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “Do your job 
and stay the hell out of my way."
With that, Joseph turned and strode toward the house, and Tess let out the 
breath she'd been holding. The old farm boy was obviously a bit more volatile 
than she'd first imagined, and she supposed she'd have to watch her step a bit 
more carefully than she'd thought.
7
Washing the Maguire laundryhad seemed an impossible task, but Tess had to admit 
that churning cream into butter took the cake. She could feel the blisters 
rising up on her palm from the constant cranking of the wooden handle, and her 
shoulder had gone from burning to numb after the first fifteen minutes.
She was adjusting her position in front of the chum and switching to her left 
hand to give the right a rest, when she heard someone approaching her from 
behind. She stiffened, hoping it wasn't Joseph come to mock the hard work she 
was doing, and was surprisingly relieved to hear Holly's voice.
“You'll have to turn it faster than that if you expect the butter to be anything 
but a runny mess,” the girl said.
Tess looked over her aching shoulder at Holly. Determined that this would be the 
best damn butter the Maguires had ever tasted, she began to crank the churn 
faster while puffing a pale piece of hair from her eyes. “Was there some special 
reason you came out here, Holly?” she asked breathlessly. “Or have you come 
simply to aggravate me?"
The girl smiled and rocked back on her heels. “I'd say aggravatin’ you would be 
special reason enough."
Tess clenched her jaw but kept on churning.
“Actually, Uncle Joseph asked me to find out if you'd be eatin’ with us in the 
house, or out in the barn with the rest of the varmints."
Tess laughed dryly. “That's very funny, Holly. Tell me something, have you ever 
been beaten over the head with a butter churn?"
“Well,that wouldn't put you on Uncle Joseph's good side, now, would it?"
“As if I care toglimpse let aloneget on your uncle's good side."
Holly sauntered around to stand in front of Tess, her yellow gingham dress 
brushing around the tops of her ankle-high, button-up shoes. “Don't bother 
protestin’ so much. What you're doin’ is obvious."
“Well, thank God. And here I thought someone might ride up and inquire as to why 
I'm killing myself over this damn thing."
“I'm talkin’ about you and my uncle, Miss Harper. I've seen the way you look at 
him, and I'm tellin’ you right now that it ain't gonna work."
“I wish to high heaven you'd tell him that,” Tess grumbled.
“He won't fall for your act,” Holly went on. “He's much too smart for that."
Tess arched a brow and looked up at the girl. “Is he now? I suppose I'm wasting 
my time here, then. Well, damn. I guess I'll just pack up and be on my way."
“He doesn't like women."
“I beg your pardon?"
“He says women get on his one last nerve. That he'd rather spend his life with a 
rabid wolverine than with a female."
Tess was incredulous. “Are you trying to tell me that your uncle is gay?"
Holly frowned. “He has his moments."
Then the girl glanced at the butter churn and Tess realized she'd stopped 
cranking. She switched back to her right hand and set to work again. “I hope you 
don't expect me to believe this ridiculous notion.” She'd traveled around the 
world and met her share of gay men, and swaggering Joseph Maguire didn't fit the 
bill.
“He may act a little gruff at times, but he can be a very frolicsome man when 
the mood strikes him."
“Frolicsome? I don't think I would have ever thought of using that word to 
describe him."
“You are hardly his type."
“Well it seems, according to you, that the only thing your uncle and I have in 
common is our attraction to men."
Holly didn't respond and Tess looked up to see that every drop of blood had 
drained from the girl's face.
Tess stood back, trying not to laugh. “Did I misunderstand your meaning?"
“You, Miss Harper, don't understand anything!” Holly burst out. “You think you 
can take money from a bank without an account and walk off into the sunset. You 
think you can give a little girl your ratty robe and make her life perfect 
again. You think you can waltz onto this farm and weasel your way into my 
uncle's good graces by pretendin’ to like me and my sister—"
“Now hold on just a minute!” Tess shouted back. “I have no intention, or desire, 
to weasel into anything that has to do with your uncle! And, frankly, I 
havenever pretended to like you. Furthermore, your uncledragged me out to this 
dust bowl, remember? I am herecompletely against my will!"
Holly's responding stare was stoic. “Then that makes two of us, doesn't it."
Tess was struck by the emptiness in the teenager's dampening eyes. “You're with 
your uncle,” she said, cranking the butter churn again. “Be glad you've at least 
got that much."
“What?” the teenager spat. “Is that sage advice I hear comin’ from a woman who's 
fresh out of jail?"
Tess gave the girl a steady look. “That's experience, Miss Maguire. For whatever 
the hell it's worth. But here's a piece of advice for you: appreciate what you 
have, because things could be a lot worse. You could be on your own, or left to 
be raised by someone who sees you as nothing but a weekly paycheck. Oh, yes, be 
very, very glad that you have someone to love you, because you might have been 
left with nothing."
Holly was looking at her as if refusing to hear a single word, but the girl 
didn't have a ready retort to throw back this time. “Shall I tell Uncle Joseph 
that you've chosen the barn?” Holly asked quietly.
“Yes, the barn.” Tess sighed as the girl strode back toward the house. “What a 
royal pain in the neck,” she muttered to herself.
Joseph Maguire sat at the small wooden table in his one room sod house. His eyes 
were closed and he was rubbing the back of his neck. Holly and Sissy were across 
the room, arguing again—over something inconsequential—and he was about ready to 
explode.
“It's my turn to dry, Holly! You dried yesterday!"
“You're too little to remember who dried yesterday,” Holly replied, giving her 
sister a slight shove. “Iremember because you kept dragging the towel on the 
floor and getting it dirty."
“That was at breakfast!You dried at supper!"
Joseph covered his face with his hands. “That's enough."
“It's my turn, you little worm, and if you say it isn't one more time. I'm going 
to punch you right in the nose."
“Then I'll tell!"
“I said, that's enough!” Joseph shouted. He turned to find them both staring 
hard at him. “Holly, you wash. Sissy, you dry."
Sissy smiled triumphantly at her older sister, and Holly began to whine, “But 
Uncle Joseph—"
“No buts unless you want ’em spanked.” Realizing what he'd just said, Joseph 
groaned and covered his face with his hands again; he was already starting to 
sound just like his father.
“I don't see why Miss Harper can't do the dishes,” he heard Holly grumble.
His head snapped up at the name of the other female bane of his existence. 
“Because it's not her job,” he replied sharply.
“Everythingelse is her job,” Holly persisted.
“No, everything else is not her job. She's here to help us during our time of 
adjustment, not chase around picking up after us like a ... like a plantation 
slave."
“Then why is she churnin’ the butter?” Sissy asked. “Yesterday you said that you 
would always churn the butter ‘cause you're the strongest."
Joseph tried not to picture slight Tess Harper out there breaking her back over 
that butter churn. Sissy was right, he had said yesterday that he would always 
churn the butter, but that was before Miss Tess Harper had provoked him into 
assigning the task to her. That woman could get beneath his skin like no other 
human being on the face of the earth, and he was finding he spent a lot of time 
wondering what kind of fool he was, surrounding himself with such a 
high-tempered group of impossible females.
“She was curious about the task, that's all,” he replied quietly.
“She didn't look curious to me when I was out there,” Holly snipped. “She looked 
tired."
It was a conspiracy, Joseph concluded, as guilt weighed down upon his shoulders. 
The women were banding together to drive him out of his mind.
He stood up. “You girls get the dishes finished up and then you can run on out 
to the north pasture and play with the dogs."
“You gonna relieve Tess?” Sissy called after him as he reached for the door.
That was, indeed, his ridiculous intention. But who the hell was going to ever 
give him some relief from her?
The sun was beginning to drop in the western sky as Joseph walked across the 
yard toward where Tess was working tirelessly at the butter churn. He had to 
give the woman credit, she was spoiled, demanding, and stubborn as hell, but she 
never backed down from a challenge.
As he drew closer, he noticed the slump to her back and the faint grunts she was 
emitting with each new turn of the crank, and his guilt intensified. He stepped 
up beside her and said, “I'll take over now."
“The hell you will,” she replied, panting heavily.
At first Joseph was surprised—the woman looked dead on her feet—but that 
surprise quickly turned to irritation at what he felt was just another fine 
example of her ungrateful disposition.
He moved closer and tried to nudge her aside with his hip. But she planted her 
feet and started cranking faster. “I don't need your help, Maguire,” she gritted 
out. “Go back to your cave."
“Move out of the way, Miss Harper.” He reached for the crank, but her sharp 
elbow landed solidly in his ribs and made him pull back.
Joseph stared at her in shock. “Get the hell out of the way."
She gave him a blue-eyed glare that could have frozen all of Hades, her fatigued 
arm still working haltingly at the crank. “You touch this handle.” she said, 
“and I'll knock you down."
Joseph would have laughed if he wasn't so furious at the moment. With a black 
glare of his own, he reached out and grabbed the crank to stop the woman's 
progress. She reacted by throwing her body at him, but she barely knocked him 
off balance. He held tight as she tried to get the butter churn turning again.
“Let go, you oversized toad!” she shouted at him.
“Give over, lady,” he growled. “You're relieved."
“There is nothing about you that could make me feel relieved!” she shouted back. 
“You gave me this job, now let me finish it!"
She gave up on the churn handle, and attempted to wrench the entire contraption 
off the wood-cutting stump and out of his reach. Joseph wasn't about to let go, 
however. A furious tug-of-war ensued, ending with them both on the ground and 
the entire gooey contents of the churn in their laps.
“That is enough!” Joseph heard Sissy shout from the house.
He craned his neck and looked back at where she was standing with Holly, 
watching him and Tess Harper make utter fools of themselves. “Enough, enough!” 
Sissy continued grinning broadly. “And no buts unless you want ’em spanked!"
Sissy broke into giggles, Holly just stood there scowling, and then the two 
girls sauntered off toward the north pasture.
His shirt and trousers covered in thick, wet cream, Joseph glanced over at Tess. 
She looked fit to kill. “Do you have any idea how long I worked on that butter?” 
she asked through her clenched teeth.
“Toolong. It should have been finished by now."
If looks could kill, he'd have been turned into a molten cinder at the moment. 
Her lips tight, Tess stood up, scraped the mess off the front of her skirt, and 
flung it at him. “Your butter, Mister Maguire!"
He watched her march off toward the barn, her sticky hands and arms held out 
from her sides. Olivia the goat smelled her coming, and half her skirt was in 
the animal's mouth by the time she entered the barn and slammed the rickety door 
shut in its face.
Joseph looked down at himself, at the butter churn, and then back at the barn. 
And then he threw back his head and broke into unbridled laughter.
8
Tess finished off her dinnerof smoked ham and sweet potatoes, and then dabbed 
the corners of her mouth with a tattered linen napkin. She set her plate on the 
dirt floor of the barn, stifled a yawn, and then looked over at her unwelcoming 
bed of hay covered with a blanket, wondering if she wouldn't be more comfortable 
on the hard floor.
The wind from that afternoon had turned cold with the setting sun, and now it 
was pushing through the cracks in the barn walls, creaking and moaning in its 
effort. She'd intended to pass on the heavy nightgown Joseph had bought for her 
at the ladies’ clothing shop that morning in favor of her Michael Bolton 
nightshirt, but the idea of lying her body out on that prickly straw, combined 
with the nip in the air from the wind, had quickly changed her mind. She was now 
wearing what amounted to a cotton circus tent, and yards upon yards of gauzy 
white material were tangled around her legs.
She'd spent the better part of the evening calling to the strange lady who had 
brought her there, but the magical mystery woman refused to appear, and after 
hours without success Tess had finally given up in frustration. What kind of a 
heinous little creature stole someone from her home, and then left her to make 
due on her own in a dangerous, unpredictable world?
Moreover, what if the woman never returned? What if Tess was doomed to spend the 
rest of her life as Joseph Maguire's lackey? A razor sharp edge of dread went 
through her at the thought, and she quickly put the idea from her mind.
A coyote howled mournfully in the distance, and Tess realized that she'd never 
felt so completely alone. There was no radio to distort the silence of the 
night, not even the steady hum of a good old modern refrigerator to keep her 
company.
“Tess?"
She looked up and found Sissy, dressed in a nightgown similar to hers but much 
smaller, peering around the barn door. She smiled at the little girl, her only 
friend for miles and years, and invited her to come in.
“I ... I just wanted to say goodnight,” Sissy said, stepping into the barn.
“That was thoughtful of you."
The girl hesitated, and Tess could tell something besides goodnight was on her 
mind. Sissy's gaze fell to Tess's discarded plate. “How come ya didn't wanna eat 
at the table with us?"
Tess sighed, figuring that question had been inevitable. She'd been too busy 
churning butter to touch her lunch, and when dinner had been announced, she'd 
waited by the front door for her plate and then headed straight for the barn. 
“There, uh, there wasn't enough room at the table,” she answered, hoping that 
response would suffice.
“Ya coulda had my chair."
Tess smiled, something she was finding impossible not to do whenever Sissy was 
around. “Well, that wouldn't have been very fair to you, now, would it?"
“I wouldn't a minded."
“Sissy, your uncle's house is just a little too small for me."
Sissy nodded. “It's smaller than our house on Cherry Creek."
“And small, closed-in places sort of ... well, they sort of make me nervous."
“Like Mrs. Scratches."
“Mrs. Scratches?"
“That was my cat,” Sissy said, walking forward, her bare feet crunching in the 
straw. “She never liked to come in the house. Pa said it was because she liked 
wide open spaces where she could run and jump without bumpin’ inta things."
“Then I guess I am a lot like Mrs. Scratches."
“But I bet you don't like mice."
“I hate mice."
Sissy wrinkled her nose and reached out to touch a strand of Tess's hair. “My ma 
had white hair like you."
“She did?"
“And she used to get tangles in it like you too, when she stayed out in the wind 
without her bonnet. Pa called it her cyclone-do. He said that that's why God 
gave men short hair. So's it wouldn't get in their eyes when they were plowin'."
Tess laughed. “Why can't they just wear bonnets like the women?"
“Because they'd look funny in ’em, silly. Pa used to say that Uncle Joseph's 
hair was too long. That's why he got into so much—” Sissy's green eyes flew 
wide, and she clamped a hand over her lips. “I'm sorry,” she whispered between 
her fingers. “We ain't s'posed ta talk about that."
Tess was intrigued.A secret? About Joseph Maguire? “Talk about what?” she asked 
innocently, hoping to entice Sissy into letting a little more information slip 
out.
“'Bout Uncle Joseph,” the girl whispered. “Ma says we all make mistakes, and 
Uncle Joseph is plenty entitled ta his. Does your ma have long hair?” she asked 
in a normal voice.
Sissy Maguire could change a subject faster than a hummingbird could blink, and 
this particular question took Tess completely off guard. Though she'd seen her 
mother only a few weeks before in Venice, Tess couldn't remember whether Patrice 
Harper was still wearing her graying-blond hair short, or if she was growing it 
out to her shoulders again.
“No,” Tess finally answered, uncomfortable that she wasn't exactly sure.
“Does she do the plowin'?"
Tess laughed. “My mother does the shoppin'."
“My ma did the cookin’ and cleanin'. She always said that a happy family and a 
tidy home is God's greatest pleasure. But Pa believed a good crop of wheat came 
in a close second."
Tess nodded, amazed at how well Sissy seemed to be taking her parents’ deaths. 
The little girl talked about them so easily, as if they'd simply gone on 
vacation and were expected back any day. “Your parents sound very nice, Sissy,” 
she said softly. “I'm sorry you lost them."
“Oh, I didn't lose ’em. I know right exactly where they are."
“In heaven with Jesus?” Tess replied, remembering what Sissy had said to her 
sister the day before.
“That's right. They talk to me when I'm asleep.” She leaned forward and 
whispered, “They even told me about you."
“About me?” Tess said, playing along.
“Uh-huh. They said that you were pretty, and nice, and that you'd take care of 
me forever."
“That's very nice, Sissy,” Tess replied carefully, “but I think it's your Uncle 
Joseph who will be taking care of you forever."
“You could help him though. He needs a lot of help.” Before Tess could respond, 
the little girl changed the subject again. “Do you live by a creek?"
“I live by an ocean."
“Really? Pa told me all about the ocean. He said it goes on and on and on, until 
your eyes can't even see it anymore. He says that big fish live there that can 
swallow you up in one bite!"
“Sharks."
“Holly says they're called dragons, and they can eat whole entire ships!"
“I've lived there for a long time and I have never seen a dragon."
“That's ‘cause they hide under the waves, until a ship comes sailing along, and 
then—chomp!—they eat it in one horrible bite! That's why there are all those 
sunken ships full of treasure!"
“I think you'd be wiser to chalk that treasure up to drunken ship captains."
“Ma says alcohol will pickle a man's brain."
“I think that's the whole point of drinking it,” Tess responded.
“To get pickled?"
“Uh-huh."
Sissy leaned forward, a puzzled look on her face. “Uncle Joseph has a bottle of 
whiskey under the sink in the kitchen."
“That's Uncle Joseph's business,” Tess replied.
“Holly wants to take it out back and bury it. Ma don't allow alcohol in the 
house."
“But that ... dugout isn't your ma's house."
“Mr. Roberts used to drink whiskey. And then, after his brain was pickled good, 
he started chasin’ after his kids with a cottonwood switch. Holly's says Uncle 
Joseph will start chasin’ us like that soon."
Tess's expression turned serious. “Has your Uncle ever hit you?"
Sissy shook her head. “He's always been real nice. He didn't even yell at Holly 
tonight when she dropped his supper plate on the floor. But Holly says he 
brought you here because...” The little girl looked down at her bare feet and 
hesitated.
“Because?"
“Because he doesn't wanna take care of us. She says he'll take ta beatin’ us 
after a while."
The world according to Holly, Tess thought irritably. “Sissy, your uncle brought 
... asked me to come here because you were so sad. He didn't want you to cry 
anymore, and thought you might like a friend for a little while."
Sissy sniffed, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. “He did?"
“Yes. And ... and I think that was an awfully nice thing for him to do. Don't 
you think so?"
“I suppose so."
“Furthermore, I think you should stop worrying about that bottle of whiskey, and 
stop believing everything your sister tells you. She's only trying to scare 
you."
“She is?"
“Of course. Do you want her to think she's succeeding?"
“No, ma'am,” Sissy replied with a very serious face. “I'm not a chicken at all."
“Then the next time she tells you something that scares you just stick your 
lovely tongue out at her and walk away."
Sissy broke into giggles. “Ma used to get mad at me for doin’ that."
“Well, this is a special situation and I am giving you special permission."
The little girl threw her arms around Tess's neck, “I'm so happy you're here!"
Tess wanted to hold back, but instead she sank into Sissy's embrace. She gave 
the girl a brisk rub on the back. “You'd better get off to bed before your uncle 
comes looking for you and blames me for keeping you out in the cold so long."
Sissy nodded and turned to leave, but then she spun back around. “I almost 
forgot! Uncle Joseph told me to give this to you.” She pulled a folded piece of 
paper from the pocket of her nightgown. “He said it was real important that I 
give it to you tonight."
Tess reached out and took the crumpled piece of paper, a hopeful thought 
flashing through her mind. The only reason she could think for Joseph Maguire to 
be writing her notes was to apologize for the way he'd been treating her. Could 
he be regretting his lordly attitude, the chores he'd been giving her, and the 
silly debt he was insisting she pay off?
Tess smiled, thinking that finally Joseph Maguire had realized she wasn't a 
servant and deserved to be paid a much higher standard of respect than she'd 
been receiving from him. Of course, she'd have to remember tomorrow to accept 
his apology personally. There was certainly no sense in holding a grudge.
“'Night, Tess,” Sissy called. “I'll bring your breakfast in the mornin'."
The little girl left the barn, closing the door tightly behind her, and Tess's 
attention returned to the note in her hand. “Goodnight,” she said softly.
With only the light from a lantern resting on the far window sill, Tess 
carefully unfolded the edges of the note. The handwriting was crude, but 
legible, and as she glanced over the words her smile began to fade. With a 
furious grinding of her teeth, she wadded the paper into a tight ball and threw 
it across the barn. The note wasn't an apology. It was a long and very detailed 
list of the chores she was expected to do the following day.
Tess flopped onto her back and slammed her fist down into the hay beneath her. 
No matter which way she turned she could not get comfortable. She felt like she 
was sleeping on a bed of thistles; every position brought with it a new itch. 
Finally, she sat upright in the darkened barn, and let out a groan of 
frustration. At this rate she wasn't going to get any sleep at all.
“Uncomfortable?"
Tess froze in the darkness. The moonlight sifting in from the side window 
illuminated the dainty silhouette of the very woman who had risen to the top of 
her “get-even” list in the short span of two days. “So nice of you to finally 
drop in,” Tess found the voice to say.
“I understand you've been bellowing most of the night for me. What is it you 
want, Miss Harper? I am a very busy woman."
“You've got other lives to screw up besides mine?"
“And I do not plan to stand here and be abused by you again. If this sort of 
thing is all you have to say to me then—"
“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute! Don't go vanishing on me again!"
The woman pursed her lips. “What do you want?"
“What do I want? Well, let's see ... You snatched me from my home when I was too 
sick to defend myself, left me in a town where they shot at me and tossed me in 
jail, now I'm stuck in this cow burg, working for a man who makes Attila the Hun 
look like a pussycat—gee, what could I possibly want?"
“Mr. Maguire has a perfect right to expect some honest work from you in 
repayment for his paying your bail. I warned you—"
"Five lousy dollars!"Tess screeched. “For five lousy dollars I'm stuck here for 
three weeks? And what in the hell am I doing here anyway!"
“Sonow you're interested in listening?"
“Very much so. And I'd like to do that listening in the comfort of my own bed. 
So if you don't mind..."
The woman sighed. “How I long for one who will rise to the occasion and welcome 
the challenge."
“The only challenge I want to be rising to isJeopardy 'sfinal round. Beam me 
back where I belong, Scotty."
“You can leave as soon as your work here is finished."
Tess glowered at the woman. “You can't actually intend to leave me here for 
three weeks because of a five-dollar debt?"
“You forget that this isn't the twentieth century, Miss Harper. Five dollars is 
nothing to sneeze at in this day and age."
“Well, that point would be null and void if you hadn't brought me here in the 
first place, wouldn't it?"
The woman arched her brows. “I told you not to get yourself into trouble."
“Why have you done this to me!” Tess demanded furiously.
“Because you asked to look at your true fate."
“Under duress!"
“Regardless, you asked, Miss Harper. And here it is."
Tess glanced around the darkened barn. “Here? With the smell of cows, a bed of 
hay, and a tree stump for a dresser? I believe I'll stick with life number one, 
if you don't mind."
“Thisis your true life, Miss Harper. Your parents, Travis and Patrice Harper, 
were never meant to have children. It was determined that they had only enough 
love and time for each other. But as they grew older and continued to be unable 
to procreate, their soft-hearted guardians began to feel sorry for them, so they 
plucked you out of the time continuum and,voila , there you were in the 
twentieth century."
“Plucked me?” Tess replied, wondering if the whole world had gone as crazy as 
she was beginning to feel.
“But your parents’ guardians were fools, thinking they could mess with the 
cosmic order without causing dire consequences. As a result, you were raised in 
a loveless family, taught to covet material items above all else, and are now 
destined to lead a life of complete and utter uselessness. Not to mention the 
havoc it's wreaked on your mission here."
“My mission?"
“Each soul has a purpose, Miss Harper, a mission to perform during their lives. 
It may be small and seemingly insignificant, or it may be monstrous and meant to 
determine the entire course of the world."
“And my ... mission?"
“I'm not at liberty to tell you. Suffice it to say that this is where you 
belong. Where your true destiny awaits you. In this very moment in time."
“And if I disagree? If I'd rather have the life I'm used to?"
The woman pursed her lips. “As I said before, I am perfectly willing to return 
you to the twentieth century once you've finished your work here."
“You sure are bent on getting Maguire his money back. You weren't a tax 
collector in another life were you? Maybe a loan shark?"
“Are you quite finished?"
Tess laughed. “Ohhh, not by a long shot—"
“If you ever intend to return to 1995, then I suggest you zip it up, Miss 
Harper. Nice and tight."
“Already breaking promises? You just told me five seconds ago that I could go 
back after I've finished paying off Old MacDonald."
The woman's eyes narrowed. “You seem to be a little confused as to just exactly 
what your work here entails."
Tess gritted her teeth. “So I'm not an expert at laundry! And that broken butter 
churn wasn't my fault! Maguire—"
“Your menial work around the farm is of little consequence."
“Tell that to Bubba,” Tess grumbled.
The woman smiled. “It would certainly be rather ridiculous of me to bring you 
all the way back here to the past just to have you feeding pigs and milking 
cows, now, wouldn't it?"
Tess narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “So you're telling me there's another 
reason?"
“Of course. To keep the family together."
“The family?"
“The Maguires. Originally your birth here, in this time, would have 
inadvertently prevented Matthew and Sara Maguire from being taken prematurely 
from this earth and their two children."
“You're kidding,” Tess replied, trying to assimilate what the woman was saying.
“You would be surprised at how the simple chance meeting of a stranger on the 
street can affect the very course of someone's life."
Tess nodded silently.
“Those two girls must never see the inside of an orphanage, Miss Harper."
“But they won't. They're staying here, with their uncle."
“For the time being,” the woman replied. “But soon things will change. Joseph 
Maguire is their last hope, and soon he will be making a decision that he 
believes is best but will jeopardize all that Holly and Sissy Maguire need to 
accomplish in this life. You must convince him to keep his nieces, Miss Harper. 
At all costs."
Tess couldn't believe what she was hearing. Sissy in a cold, heartless place 
like an orphanage? “He wouldn't dare,” she whispered with determination.
“He better not dare, my dear. For if he does, you will be staying right here 
where you are. For good."
Astounded, Tess stared at the woman. “Hescrews up and I'm penalized!"
“The door for you to return will be closed if destiny follows that path. You 
must convince him, for their sake ... as well as for your own."
“Terrific. Just terrific.” Tess pictured Joseph and his arrogant glare, doubting 
she could talk him into an afternoon snack, let alone something as important as 
this.
“That said, I shall return at a later date,” the woman went on, “hoping that 
your brief sojourn in the country has done you some good."
“Hold on!” Tess shouted. “You can't just pop in, drop a bombshell on me like 
this, and then pop back out! I want some answers, damn it!"
“I thought I'd answered all of your questions."
“Just tell me this ... Why me?” she asked softly.
“Because your absence, Miss Harper, is what has caused all this confusion. And 
we simply could not allow you to go through your life without at least having 
the opportunity to accomplish something. This is your chance, my dear,” the 
woman said gently. “Don't blow it."
And then she was gone, leaving Tess staring at nothing but an empty barn.
Tess fell back into the hay, frustration eating at her. “How dare that pompous 
clod-hopper even consider putting his own flesh and blood in an orphanage,” she 
said to herself, enraged. She wanted to jump up from her bed, storm into that 
hovel he called a house, and give him a good piece of her mind!
But she knew that would be the wrong approach to take if she ever planned to 
make Joseph Maguire see reason. No, she would simply have to bide her time, 
secure in the knowledge that his pig-headedness was not going to keep her from 
returning to where she truly belonged.
9
When the sun peeked overthe horizon the next morning the Maguire rooster went 
into full volume. Tess groaned, rolled onto her stomach, and covered her head 
with her feather pillow. A few minutes later Sissy crept in with a plate of 
something that smelled sweet.
“Leave it on the stump,” Tess grumbled. Then she managed to doze on and off for 
a little while longer.
She woke an hour later to a loud munching sound, and lurched upright, her eyes 
flying to the stump where her breakfast was waiting. The plate was undisturbed, 
however she turned to find Olivia snacking on her blanket.
“You'd takethat over bacon and eggs?” she said in a sleep-gravelly voice.
The rooster crowed again and she gritted her teeth. “The first thing I'm going 
to do when I get out of here is have a heaping plate of southern fried chicken."
“That'll have to wait till after the cow's been milked."
Her gaze flew to the doorway and she found Joseph Maguire standing there, his 
hands planted firmly on his hips. She gave him a stony stare: To think that for 
one second last night she'd actually thought him nice enough to grant her a 
reprieve on her chores. Now she knew that he was a cruel, heartless man who 
planned to abandon his own nieces to an unknown fate.
“I don't do cows,” she said in her coldest tone.
His dark brows went up. “You'd rather do time?"
She tried to stand, but let out a groan instead as the muscles in her back 
cramped. “Dear God, I'm paralyzed!” she shouted at him. “I can't even stand, for 
crying out loud!"
“I know a nice quiet cell where you could rest up for a while."
Tess managed to rise slowly, stiffly, to her feet. “Listen, you thick-necked 
jerk. I'm about half-sick of you hanging that jail over my head. And what the 
hell would you do if Idid decide to go back there? I highly doubt you'd be able 
to take care of two little girls by yourself—and I hear Mary Poppins is all tied 
up at the moment."
Joseph Maguire crossed his arms and stared at her, the sun behind him casting a 
grayish shadow over his face and a golden halo behind his dark head. “I'd 
manage,” he responded.
“Manage to make them miserable? Sissy thinks you don't want her, and Holly 
thinks you'll get drunk some night and beat the tar out of her with a tree 
branch."
Joseph's hard stare wavered. “That's ridiculous."
“They don't seem to think so."
“They'll adjust,” he replied.
“'They'll adjust. They'll adjust.’ You sound like a goddamned broken record, 
Maguire. How do you propose they'll be doing all this adjusting? Certainly not 
in response to all the supportyou 'regiving them."
She ignored his darkening scowl and reached down to brush the hay from the front 
of her nightgown. “It's not as if you can just go on with your life and expect 
them to figure things out by themselves,” she went on. She lifted her skirt and 
removed a particularly stubborn piece of hay from the hem. “They're children, 
Maguire, not mind readers. They need to hear you say that everything will be all 
right because you intend to make it that way. Because you intend to take care of 
them for the rest of their lives."
Joseph was so silent that Tess finally had to look up to see if he was even 
listening. He was doing something intently all right, but that something wasn't 
listening to her ramble on about being a supportive parent. No, what he was 
doing was staring avidly at her bared leg.
She dropped the hem of her nightgown. “What is it with you and legs?” she 
demanded.
A faint smile twisted at his full lips. “What is it with you and always showing 
me yours?"
She glared at him. “How well do you know your nieces?” she asked sharply.
“See ’em every summer."
“That's not very often."
His frown was back. “Often enough."
“It sounds to me like they don't know you very well, Mr. Maguire,” she replied, 
moving closer. “Like they've been left in the hands of a perfect stranger."
“I'm their uncle."
“Blood may be thicker than water, but it proves pretty meager when compared to 
compassion and understanding.” She looked up into his face, hoping to read his 
intentions, but saw nothing except the same handsome visage that always made her 
heart patter. “Holly and Sissy are alone,” she went on. “And, despite their 
displays of courage, they're afraid. They need your love, Maguire, and your 
reassurance that they can always count on you to be there for them."
He looked down at her and said softly, “And if I can't give them that kind of 
reassurance?"
She looked into his eyes and found herself caught in the dark depths of his 
entrancing gaze. “They could rebel,” she replied. “Classic adolescent mutiny. 
Drinking, smoking, drugs. Late-night parties, early sexual encounters, spending 
quality time with people you'd like to run over with your wagon."
“Am I mistaken, or is that the voice of experience I hear talking?"
“I'm just trying to give you a little advice.” And she certainly wasn't 
interested in revealing the intricate aspects of her troubled youth to him or 
anyone else. “You can take it or leave it."
He considered her for a moment, and then his assessing gaze drifted over her 
body, causing a small tremble in the pit of her stomach. “Were you a reckless 
youth, Miss Harper?” he asked in a voice that was far too soft.
“Would it shock you if I was?” she retorted. “Would the fact that I'd been a 
little unruly in my earlier years stun those tender farmer sensibilities of 
yours?"
A smirk pulled at his mouth. “I'm sure I could take the news in stride."
“Oh, I think I might be able to shock you, Maguire.” The weekend with the high 
roller in Vegas might just do the trick, she thought to herself. That particular 
stunt of hers had about given her father a stroke—but she had gotten him home 
from Tahiti for her sixteenth birthday.
She realized Joseph was reaching out to her and she pulled back. “What are you 
doing?"
“Let me see your hands."
“Why?” she asked suspiciously.
His expression darkened. “Are you gonna let me see ’em, or do I have to come 
after you?"
“Now wouldn't that be a sight?” Tess said, laughing off a sudden bout of nerves. 
“You chasing me around the barn begging to hold my hand?"
Before she could move another step back Joseph reached out and took what he 
wanted. Tess let out a startled cry at his quick movement, and then his warmth 
struck her like a jolt from a power line. Stunned, she stared up at him, 
realizing that in all their time spent arguing during the course of the past two 
days they'd never really touched each other, never really cared to, she 
supposed. But now she was feeling the pure raw heat of him against her palm, and 
damned if she couldn't find the will to pull away.
She wanted to get annoyed, to be bothered by this strange gesture on his part, 
but she couldn't muster the will to do either. There was only awareness, his 
skin against hers, their gazes locked, their heartbeats blending for just that 
one brief moment of time that brought their two centuries crashing into one. 
Touching him was like recognizing a distant face in a crowd and not being able 
to place it. And by the wondering look in Joseph's eyes, Tess knew he was 
feeling the same odd sensations.
After a long, lingering moment, he slowly turned her hand over, and slid his 
callused fingers across the soft, sensitive skin of her palm. Goose bumps 
skittered up and down her arm, and she swallowed hard, doing her best to act 
casual.
“What are you doing?” she asked weakly.
“It's just as I suspected,” he replied. “Except for a few new blisters, they're 
smooth as silk."
“I'm not used to manual labor,” she managed to respond.
His thumb traced a tiny circle on her palm, making her nerves dance. “I'd guess 
you hadn't worked a day in your life."
“Well, my maid—"
The tracing stopped. “Your maid?” He cocked his head at her. “Just exactly where 
did you say you were from, Miss Harper?"
It took Tess a moment to answer. She still couldn't get past the fact that he 
was holding her hand—and she was letting him. “California."
“Your family strike it rich?"
“You could say that."
“Must be a...” He paused and looked down at their hands. Her gaze followed his, 
and she found she'd curled her fingers around his thumb. “Must be a big change 
for you to be sleepin’ in a barn,” he finished softly.
Embarrassed by her unexpected reaction to him, Tess tried to ease her hand out 
of his. He apparently wasn't ready to let go, though, and his fingers clamped 
more tightly around hers.
“It's not so bad. The bed could be warmer,” she replied, and then felt a hot 
blush creep up her neck when his eyes darkened and she realized what she'd said. 
“I ... I mean—"
“I'll see what I can do about gettin’ you a few more blankets."
“Thank you,” she managed to squeeze past her tight, dry throat. She suddenly 
couldn't find the courage to look him in the eye and was focusing instead on his 
strong, clean-shaven chin.
“Miss Harper?” he said softly.
She glanced up into his handsome face again and her stomach did a flip-flop. 
“Yes?"
“I need to tell you something."
“Yes?” she replied, breathless.
“Don't forget to slop the pigs this morning."
She blinked, he smirked, and she pulled her hand free and punched him in the 
stomach with all her might. Of course the blow was hardly felt against that 
sheet of metal he called an abdomen. “And I'll start with the one standing in 
front of me!” she shouted.
He danced away from her next swing. “There's a bucket set aside from supper and 
breakfast sittin’ by the front door."
She picked up one of her shoes and threw it at him. He ducked, and it went 
sailing over his head and slammed into the barn wall.
“Add a little wheat grain from the shed,” he went on. “Oh, and"—he ducked in 
time to dodge the other shoe—"if you plan on eatin’ again at noon, I suggest you 
get the cow milked."
“There's a new threat!” she shouted as he headed for the door. “If going back to 
jail doesn't scare her, I'llstarve her to death!"
He paused to look back at her, his expression so innocent it could have fooled 
St. Peter. “That's not a threat, Miss Harper.” He broke into a twisted smile. 
“It's just sort of hard to fix beef and biscuits without milk."
He strode from the barn and Tess looked around furiously for something else to 
throw. But she'd expended the better part of her ammunition and the 
son-of-a-bitch got away with out a scratch.
“Conniving bastard,” she muttered. Olivia, the eating machine, bleated and 
shoved up against her legs, and Tess patted the goat's head. “That man is a pig! 
Playing with my emotions like that!"
Olivia responded by throwing back her head and trying to eat the long sleeve of 
Tess's nightgown.
“He's got no class,” Tess went on, yanking her arm out of the goat's reach. “No 
manners. No social clue whatsoever!"
Then why the hell had she just felt like melting into a great big puddle at his 
feet?
It was pretty clear to Tess that her little jaunt back in time had seriously 
affected her brain. There was simply no other explanation for why a man like 
Joseph Maguire had been able to arouse such a desperate longing in her with just 
one simple touch.
The good news for the day was that Tess's cold was gone. The bad news was that 
she was being trampled by a marauding pack of squealing pink bodies who really 
didn't care if she was able to breathe through her nose again or not.
She was only trying to feed them! But the fifteen piglets apparently couldn't 
wait for her to get the slop bucket to the trough. They'd ganged up on her like 
a lawless band of bikers, and tripped her before she'd made it halfway across 
the pen! And now they were merrily having their lunch while stepping all over 
her.
Tess managed to shove the last piglet off, and make it to safety atop the fence 
rail. She looked down at her dirty skirt, then glanced over her shoulder at 
where Joseph Maguire was fixing a wagon wheel in the front yard. He was watching 
her, and probably laughing his head off.
She dusted off her clothes and headed for the chicken coop, thinking it was 
probably best to move on to something a little easier. How hard could it be to 
gather a few eggs?
Hard indeed. By the time Tess was finished stealing the incubating young of the 
foulest tempered birds she'd ever come into contact with, she was lucky to still 
have all her fingers. And if being pecked by Colonel Sanders's finest wasn't bad 
enough, she was then chased from the area by the very same rooster that had 
awakened her at four o'clock that morning.
She walked over to Joseph Maguire and handed him the basket filled with half a 
dozen eggs. “I certainly hope you're enjoying the show,” she snapped.
A smile played on his lips. “Next time slop the pigs from the other side of the 
fence. And it's easier to gather eggs if you feed the chickens first. Lures ’em 
from the nest."
“Why didn't you tell me all thisbefore I was almost killed!"
He shrugged. “Because you didn't ask."
God, how she hated this man! “Any more pearls of wisdom I should know about?” 
she asked through clenched teeth.
He leaned closer and whispered, “Don't forget to milk the cow."
Tess gave him a sneer, and then turned on her heel for the barn. She'd seen cows 
milked on television, and happened to think she could do a pretty fine job. In 
the barn she found the three-legged stool and the metal milk pail, and then 
walked out back to the cow Joseph had tied up to a fence post.
She sat down, stared at the four teats, then rubbed her hands together and 
slowly reached out. “I'm not going to like this any more than you are, cow. So 
just...” She grabbed hold of the soft flesh. “Just hold still."
The cowed mooed once, adjusted a back leg, and then didn't budge an inch after 
that. The whole process went amazingly well, smooth as cream you might say, and 
Tess smiled at her progress.
When she finished, she went to pick up the heavy pail and gravely misjudged its 
weight. The fingernail on her left index finger caught the metal edge and 
snapped off at the tip. She let go with a bellowing cry which scared the cow who 
then kicked out, hit the pail, and dumped the milk all over the grass.
Joseph came charging around the side of the barn and stopped short at the sight 
in front of him. “What happened?"
Her face a furious red, Tess held up her hand to show him thereal damage. “I 
broke a nail!"
He stared at her. “You broke a nail?"
“Yes! This manicure cost me three hundred dollars, Maguire! That's thirty bucks 
a finger!"
“Thirty bucks?"
“Yes,” she hissed through her teeth.
“Hell, I could buy twentywhole women for that price.” He stared down at the milk 
running a thick white river through the grass. “And about thirty more pails of 
milk. Say, why don't you break me off one of those and I'll head into town with 
it and see if I can't make a trade."
“Go back to your wagon wheel, Maguire,” Tess said tightly. “Go back before I 
lose my temper and use what's left of my nails to gouge out your damn eyes!"
“Just don't kill anything, all right, Miss Harper?” With a final disgusted shake 
of his head, Joseph walked back around the side of the barn and out of sight.
Tess let out a frustrated groan. The man didn't appreciate anything of value—but 
what more did she expect from a backward dirt-clod like him!
She picked up the milk pail and the stool and carried them both back into the 
barn. Her back spasmed as she tried to hang them on the appropriate nails. After 
a few more tries, she ended up leaving them on the barn floor. What she needed 
was a steamy hot bath, but, she thought, looking longingly at her hay bed, she'd 
settle for a break and a nice long nap.
She nestled her sore body into the hay where she took a long, deep breath of 
clean air and then closed her eyes.
She woke to the sound of Sissy's frantic shouts coming from the yard and was 
unsure of how long she'd slept. She glanced at the window. Judging by the sun's 
position in the sky, she hadn't been out so long that the girls should be back 
from school.
Sissy continued to shout and Tess couldn't get from the barn fast enough. She 
hurried out into the yard and found the little girl standing by the pump, 
looking lost and upset, her eyes red and puffy from crying.
“What is it?” Tess asked, stooping down in front of her.
“It's Holly!” Sissy said between sobs. “She's run off!"
“Run off?” Tess looked around the yard for Joseph. The wheel was fixed and 
reattached to the wagon, but he was nowhere in sight.
“Mrs. Simms wouldn't let me look for her!” Sissy cried, breathing hard, “So I 
came home as fast as I could!"
“Calm down, now. Who is Mrs. Simms?"
“She's our teacher—it's all her fault Holly ran off!"
Tess took hold of the little girl's icy hands. “Tell me what happened."
“Holly wanted to play baseball with the boys,” Sissy explained, her little chin 
trembling.
“And?"
“And ... well ... girls ain't s'posed ta play baseball."
Tess scowled. “Says who?"
“Says—says Mrs. Simms. She says it ain't ladylike. But—but Holly's real good at 
hittin', and she really likes ta play. So, when Mrs. Simms went inta the 
schoolhouse during recess, Holly joined the boys’ game. The teacher wouldn't a 
even known it if Holly hadn't hit that ball clear across the creek and caused 
such a ruckus."
“And what happened when Mrs. Simms found out what Holly was doing?"
Tears filled Sissy's eyes again. “Mrs. Simms she ... she got real mad. She 
yelled at Holly in front of all the kids. Told her she weren't nothing but 
ill-bred baggage, and that Ma and Pa died because...” Tears welled up again.
“Because?” Tess prompted gently.
“Because God was punishing us for bein’ so sinful."
Tess took Sissy into her arms and let the little girl cry on her shoulder. She 
couldn't imagine how anyone could be so cruel as to say something like that to a 
child.
But she was damn sure going to find out.
Once Sissy had quieted down, Tess pulled back and looked into her eyes. “I want 
you to go find your Uncle Joseph and tell him that I've gone to the school."
“Are"—Sissy sniffed—"are you gonna find Holly?"
“I have a feeling that Holly will come home when she's ready,” Tess said, 
reaching up to brush away Sissy's tears. “But I think I'll have a little chat 
with your teacher in the meantime. How do I get to the school? Tell me which way 
to go to get there."
Sissy pointed past the oaks. “You walk straight that away."
Tess stood and glanced down at the tight pointy shoes she was wearing. By the 
time she reached the school, she would probably be in just the right mood to 
take on a bloodthirsty teacher.
“You go find your uncle, Sissy. And don't worry. Everything is going to be just 
fine."
The Sweet Briar schoolhouse sat at the base of a low hill in a field of wild 
violets. The quaint little building, with its white washed sides and A-framed 
roof, looked exactly like what Tess would have expected, right down to the cast 
iron bell hanging over the porch.
She didn't bother to knock as she stepped through the door and into the 
classroom. The students were all sitting silently with their heads bowed over 
their books. At the head of the class, sitting on a foot high platform, was a 
desk. And behind that desk sat the teacher.
During her one-mile walk to the school, Tess had had plenty of time to consider 
what the battle-ax might look like, right down to the thickness of the woman's 
glasses. But this surpassed even Tess's wildest dreams.
The teacher had a beak for a nose. Plain and simple, it was a beak. Her eyes 
were small black holes in her head, and her dark hair was pulled back so 
severely Tess was surprised the woman's face didn't crack right down the center.
“Good God,” Tess mumbled to herself as she walked forward. “It'sAlien Four: The 
Final Horror ."
The teacher glanced up with a look that Tess assumed was supposed to be 
intimidating. “May I help you, young lady?"
“My name is Tess Harper. And I believe you and I have some business to discuss 
outside."
“I have never heard of you."
Tess smiled brightly. “Well, I'm about to change all that."
The woman's mouth pursed, a big accomplishment for someone who seemed to have no 
lips. “We are in the middle of class. Can't this wait until later?"
“No. It can't. I'm Holly Maguire's...” Tess paused. Just what the hell was she 
to Holly Maguire? “I'm a friend of Holly Maguire, and I've come to discuss your 
opinion of her playing baseball."
The teacher's tiny dark eyes narrowed as she looked Tess over. “So you're the 
criminal he's brought in to raise them."
Tess could only assume “he” was Joseph Maguire. “Yep. That's me,” she replied 
proudly.
The woman folded her heavily veined hands on the desk in front of her. “I have a 
problem with you, young lady—"
“Well, I have a problem with you, old woman."
Faint gasps came from all around the room, giving Tess the impression that no 
one ever dared to speak so brusquely with the formidable Mrs. Simms.
“Quiet!” the woman snapped. Then she settled her superior gaze on Tess. “You are 
interrupting my class, and I would like you to leave."
Tess leaned closer. “Let me make this perfectly clear. We can either do this 
here, in front of your class, or we can do this outside."
The teacher stared at her for a moment, a small tremor in her hands the only 
sign that she was uneasy, and then she stood up from her desk. “Children, remain 
in your seats and finish reading pages twenty through thirty-five."
Tess preceded the teacher out the door, sure that the woman was glaring daggers 
at her back. She stopped in the center of the yard and faced her. “I understand 
you don't allow your female students to play baseball?"
“It is a boy's game."
“It's a game. One that Holly happens to be very good at."
“That is the sole fault of her parents. A proper family would never teach such 
things to a young lady. Young ladies do not throw balls and run around in the 
dirt."
“And why not?"
“Because it isn't done."
“By whom? Old sticks-in-the-mud like yourself who can't throw anything around 
but their own weight?"
The woman gasped. “Youare insulting."
Tess moved closer. “I'm just getting started. Just what gives you the right to 
decide what is and isn't proper for young ladies? I'd wager you haven't been a 
young lady in ... oh ... at least a hundred years. And, while we're on the 
subject, howdare you tell a child that her parents’ deaths were a direct result 
of how good or bad she'd been. Just who the hell made you a teacher in this 
town, anyway?” She had backed the woman up against the porch and was now staring 
her down.
“I ... I won't stand for this kind of abuse—"
“Gee, I'm sorry, Mrs. Simms. Is it a little daunting, maybe even a little 
frightening, when someone bigger and stronger tells you what a rotten person you 
are?"
“You leave these grounds instantly,” the woman shrieked, “before I report you to 
the sheriff and have you thrown back in jail where you belong!"
Tess rolled her eyes at what seemed to be the standard nineteenth-century 
threat. “You listen to me, lady. Holly Maguire will be back in school tomorrow, 
simply because I have no real say in the matter, but I expect you to treat her 
with courtesy and respect. Otherwise ... otherwise I'll be back. You can bet on 
that. Do we understand each other?"
The teacher clenched her jaw, then nodded once.
“Good.” Tess looked up at the school door and waved to all the children who had 
converged there. “'Bye, guys. Watch out for that flying ruler."
Mrs. Simms looked back over her shoulder and turned three shades of red. “Get 
back in there!” she screeched at the children. Then she bustled up the stairs, 
into the schoolhouse, and slammed the door.
Tess grimaced, listening to the teacher shout at the children. “Not exactly 
Julie Andrews,” she remarked as she walked away.
Finding Holly was the next item on her list, and Tess walked toward the thick 
shelter of trees at the edge of the meadow. She assumed the teenager had run for 
cover and was planning on hiding out until the whole embarrassing situation had 
blown over, but Tess knew Sissy would feel infinitely better about the entire 
situation if Holly were home in time for dinner.
Tess wasn't exactly sure how temperamental Holly was going to be about someone 
butting into her business—especially if that someone was the “crazy lady,” but 
Tess felt that for Sissy's sake she at least had to try.
Tess paused as a realization struck her. She'd gone through life not giving two 
damns about other people's feelings, but somehow, in the past three days, Sissy 
Maguire had become very important to her.
10
Joseph Maguire considered himselfa reasonable man, although some might differ 
with that opinion. In the case of Tess Harper, though, he believed he'd been 
more than judicious. He'd given her food, shelter, a respectable paying job, and 
she'd done nothing but complain for two days straight. And now she'd taken off 
after Holly and Sissy's teacher.
Frankly, after the piss-poor job she'd been doing on her chores, Joseph 
considered this the last and final straw. He'd worked too hard to patch up his 
reputation to let some run-off-at-the-mouth lady ruin all his chances for a 
decent life in a decent town.
And to think he'd brought her home for Sissy in order to keep the little girl 
happy. When Sissy had come running toward him across the wheat field the little 
girl had been so upset that the only words he could get out of her were, “Miss 
Harper went after Mrs. Simms!"
Joseph had wasted no time in hitching up the horses and racing off to the 
schoolhouse. Having been the recipient of the bad side of Tess Harper too many 
times, he knew all the trouble she was about to cause. He was determined to take 
her back to jail.
However, unbidden, his mind had returned to that morning in the barn, though 
he'd been trying all day to push the memory away. Her skin had been warm and had 
felt smooth as new silk against his rough hands, and he'd never forget the soft 
look in her blue eyes when she'd gazed up at him, her lips slightly parted, and 
curled her fingers around his thumb. Christ, he'd never wanted a woman so badly 
in his whole damn life. She was destroying his peace of mind.
Though it was still early in the afternoon when Joseph reached the schoolhouse, 
class had already been dismissed. He found Mrs. Simms sitting behind her desk, 
breathing deeply through her nose, and knew he was too late. Cyclone Tess had 
already blown through and done her damage.
She couldn't wash a shirt to save her life. She'd scared the cow so badly that 
afternoon that the animal probably wouldn't give milk for another year. The 
chickens would never fully recover from her haphazard way of gathering eggs. And 
now her smart little mouth had most likely ruined his nieces’ chances for good 
schooling.
“Well. Mr. Maguire,” the teacher said, clearly still dazed. “I suppose you're 
here to take up where your lady friend left off?"
Joseph tugged the brim of his hat in a polite gesture, though he felt this woman 
hardly deserved one. He'd never liked Harriet Simms, but she did fit very nicely 
into the moralistic community in which she lived. She was a snob, judging every 
soul according to her own personal yardstick, and he resented the fact that he 
was now put in the position of being apologetic to her. One more strike against 
Tess Harper.
“I regret whatever has occurred here today, Mrs. Simms. I don't suppose you 
could tell me just where mylady friend has gotten off to?"
The woman arched her dark brows. “From what I understand, she was to be in your 
charge, Mr. Maguire—although Icannot understand why. Rather like the blind 
leading the blind."
“She left the farm without me knowing."
“Don't tell me you've let her slip through your fingers already. I'm not sure 
Sheriff Wilson will appreciate hearing that."
And Joseph knew the sheriff would hear about it. “Miss Harper has a mind of her 
own,” he replied, not able to keep a sharp edge from coming into his tone. Just 
who the hell did this lady think she was, questioning his good intentions?
“Yes, a very unschooled mind. Frankly, Mr. Maguire, I am astonished that you 
would let such a woman around those two impressionable girls. Young ladies with 
backgrounds such as your Holly and Sissy need a firm hand to guide them away 
from their inherent tendencies."
Joseph's eyes narrowed. It was bad enough that he was having to struggle for 
even a smidgeon of respect in Sweet Briar, he saw no reason why Holly and Sissy 
should be forced to do the same. “Holly and Sissy are fine girls."
“Yes ... well ... I believe it is only fair to inform you that I intend to speak 
to the Ladies’ Auxiliary about this matter as soon as I can gather them."
A city meeting in his honor? How touching. “Where did the woman go?” Joseph 
demanded, no longer having the patience for courtesy.
“She went off after your eldest niece, I suppose."
He frowned. “Holly?"
“Another bad egg. I suggest you find someonequalified who can take those two 
girls firmly in hand before they wreak havoc on this world just like—” She 
stopped short, but gave Joseph a pointed look.
Just like you, Joseph knew she had been about to say.
“Your lady friend headed for the thicket,” the woman continued. “Might I suggest 
that we would all be better off if you simply left her there."
Joseph turned for the door, but, unable to hold his tongue a moment longer, spun 
back to face the woman. “Mrs. Simms, might I suggest that we'd all be a little 
better off if you'd lower your nose about sixty degrees south? It might even 
take some of that stiffness out of your neck."
The woman gasped sharply, and Joseph was sure Sheriff Wilson was going to be 
hearing about his attitude as well.
He left his wagon at the schoolhouse and headed across the meadow toward the 
thicket on foot, assuming he would find Tess and Holly together. He wasn't sure 
what was going on, but he swore to himself that if that Harper woman had caused 
Holly even an ounce of trouble, she'd find her shapely little butt back in jail 
faster than she could say manicure.
He didn't have to walk far before he heard the two of them shouting at each 
other.
“I hiked—in a long skirt no less—through brambles and wild prickly berry bushes, 
over fallen trees and across a very wet stream to find you, Holly, and do I get 
a thank you? Oh, no. I get a glare and a smart remark!"
“You shouldn't have wasted your time!” Holly shouted back. “I don't needyour 
help!"
Joseph peered through a tall bush and saw his elder niece sitting on a stump. 
Tess Harper, her blond hair blowing softly in the breeze, was standing with her 
arms crossed, looking fit to skin a cat. “Didn't you hear me calling you?” she 
demanded.
“So what if I did?” Holly retorted.
“Then the polite thing to do would have been to answer back!"
“Maybe I didn't want to be found!"
“Then I guess I don't know why the hell I bothered!"
They were fighting like a couple of she-bears, and Joseph stood back and 
considered the two of them: one young and headstrong, the other more mature and 
... well ... also headstrong. Hell, Holly and Tess Harper seemed to be two of a 
damn kind.
“Running away isn't the answer, Holly!” Tess continued to shout. “I may have 
been thinking a lot of things about you lately, but I certainly didn't think you 
were a coward! Mrs. Simms—"
“Mrs. Simms is an old harpy who doesn't know nothin’ about nothin'! If I was ta 
poke her with a hair pin she'd explode in a big burst a hot air!"
“And wouldn't we all like to give the old bat a good poke,” Tess grumbled back. 
Holly nodded rigidly, and the moment seemed to defuse a little between them.
“Listen, Holly,” Tess finally continued, “what that woman said about ... well 
about what happened to your parents being because of—"
“She's a liar!” Holly shouted. “She's a mean old liar!"
Even from where he was standing Joseph could see the tears breaking out in 
Holly's eyes and he clenched his fists. It was apparent by this conversation 
that Harriet Simms had said something that had seriously upset Holly, and it 
probably never would have happened if her uncle had been anyone other than 
Joseph Maguire.
He looked up at the sky, self-disgust seeping through him. He'd promised his 
dying brother that he would protect the girls, and so far he was failing 
miserably. Maybe his first impression had been right and he just wasn't the man 
for the job.
“That woman is not only a liar,” Tess was saying, “she's a cold, vicious old 
bovine who should have been put out to pasture a long, long time ago. As a 
matter of fact, I wouldn't blame you a bit if you never wanted to go back to 
that school again."
Joseph caught his breath. Tess had been doing so well with Holly up till that 
point and then she'd had to go and say a stupid thing like that. He couldn't let 
Holly quit school, no matter what the reason.
“I don't wanna go back."
“But then,” Tess continued, “then the old bat would win."
Holly's green eyes narrowed. “What do you mean ... win?"
“Just that I think you'd make Mrs. Simms pretty happy if you stayed home. The 
last thing she wants is you showing up andcorrupting her class. In fact, she 
told me she doesn't really believe you're capable of learning anything anyway."
Holly jumped to her feet. “I'm plenty capable of learnin'! I got an A plus on my 
math test last week! ‘Course that was with Miss Springfield,” the girl added 
with a little sneer. “Miss Springfield was a whole lot nicer than Mrs. Simms."
“Yeah, good ol’ Mrs. Simms is sort of a worm in the apple of life."
“That's a good word for Mrs. Simms. A worm,” Holly agreed emphatically.
“As for playing baseball—"
“You can't tell me to stop! You're not my mother, and you can't tell me to 
stop!"
Joseph watched Tess pause and wait calmly until Holly was done with her tirade. 
“As I was saying,” she then continued, “I happen to be an expert first baseman. 
We'll have to get a few people together for a game some time."
Holly couldn't have looked anymore shocked than Joseph felt. Tess Harper played 
baseball? Andexpertly ?
“I don't know if Uncle Joseph would like that,” Holly said slowly.
“Then he can be the catcher. That way we can swing bats at him all afternoon."
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then, to Joseph's amazement, Holly 
started to laugh. The happy sound filled the clearing and echoed through the 
trees, ringing in his ears and in his heart. Tess had made her laugh, when he 
hadn't seen Holly crack even the makings of a smile since she and Sissy had come 
to live with him three days before.
He shook his head. Maybe Tess Harper deserved another chance. After all, he 
hadn't really brought her to the farm for chores, he'd brought her to help the 
girls. And, surprisingly enough, she seemed to be doing a fine job at that 
particular task.
A branch snapped beneath his feet, and Tess's and Holly's heads popped up. 
Joseph knew he had to show himself or be discovered. He walked out from behind 
the wall of bushes, as though he'd just now come upon the two of them, and 
Holly's smile faded away as she and Tess stared at him in surprise.
“I, uh, I heard you had some problems at school today, Holly,” he said.
The young girl's usual look of defiance immediately returned, and he regretted 
that his appearance had stolen away her smile. “That's right,” she replied.
“And I suppose you're not gonna be wantin’ ta go back now.” Lord help him, he'd 
have to make a stand. He'd promised his brother he'd look out for the girls, 
and, no matter how difficult it was for him or them, he had to do what was best.
Holly and Tess exchanged a look. Then Holly smiled and said, “Why, Uncle Joseph, 
I wouldn't miss school for all the tea in China."
As Joseph struggled for a reply to that unexpected response, Holly stood and 
walked away through the trees. He turned his astounded expression to the woman 
standing across from him, realizing that somehow she'd talked the girl into 
going back to school without even really trying.
She smiled crookedly at him and his palms went sweaty. “It's called reverse 
psychology,” she told him. “I understand it works every time."
“What, uh, what exactly did Harriet Simms say to her?"
Tess hesitated. “Something to the effect that the girls were sinful and that was 
why God had taken away their parents."
Joseph squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. It was his fault. He had 
done this to them. “Somebody oughta bind and gag that witch and stuff her in a 
deep, dark hole."
“Yeah, well, I'd say she's not exactlyteacher material. Doesn't this town have 
anyone else qualified who's a little more ... human? Someone without fangs, 
perhaps?"
“Harriet Simms is who they've all chosen."
“Couldn't you maybe impress upon them the need to chose someone else?"
Joseph gave her a direct look, noticing again how blue her eyes were. “This town 
doesn't exactly hold my opinions in high esteem,” he replied.
“So that's it? We just send the girls off to a house of horrors every morning?"
Joseph didn't like the idea any more than she did. “We'll have to keep an eye on 
the situation."
Their eyes met and held for a moment, and he noticed that a faint, golden 
splatter of freckles was starting to break out across the bridge of her 
nose—because she was still refusing to wear that bonnet he'd bought for 
her.Stubborn to the core , he thought, and had to turn his head to hide his 
smile.
He jabbed his thumb in the direction he'd come. “I left the wagon at the 
schoolhouse if you're interested in a ride back to the farm."
“Do you have a secret, Maguire?” she asked.
His attention snapped back to her and her little smile made him scowl. With all 
the rumors and innuendos floating around town about him, he wondered what the 
hell she'd heard.
“Sissy mentioned something last night—well, nothing really, but I was just 
curious..."
Apparently she hadn't heard anything of real substance, and it surprised Joseph 
how relieved the realization made him feel. But she was fishing for something, 
which made him eminently nervous.
“Come on, Maguire,” she said, playfully tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. “I 
can keep a secret."
Her eyes were alit with mischief, her smile widening, and Joseph's chest 
tightened with something he couldn't put a name to just yet. But damn if she 
hadn't had that kind of effect on him since the first moment he'd laid eyes on 
her in front of the stage office. He'd known right away that she had a wild 
streak in her as long as the Mississippi. The proof was in her flashing eyes, 
her determined stance, and most especially in her lippy attitude. And, as a 
result, his reckless side was inexplicably drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
The plain fact was, she was trouble. From the top of her golden head to the tips 
of her little toes. The smartest thing he could do was put her right back where 
he'd found her, but he'd already decided that she would be staying until he was 
damn good and ready to let her leave.
“It's a long walk back,” he said, not about to tell her a thing. “You got a ride 
if you want one.” He headed off through the woods the way he'd come, leaving her 
standing there with her burning curiosity.
Not surprisingly, she charged right along after him. “Ah, come on, Maguire. 
Avoiding the question will only make me more curious. Did you dig your well on 
holy ground? Did you forget to sacrifice a goat before you planted your wheat 
field?"
Joseph smiled the entire way through the thicket, glad she wasn't aware of it. 
The woman could make a joke out of a pestilence.
“Sissy says you got into trouble because of your long hair,” she called after 
him.
He reached the meadow of the school yard and paused to let her catch up. She was 
breathing hard when she stopped beside him, and he couldn't help but wonder what 
else he could do to her that would make her pant that way. “And she told me you 
were magic because of your pink coat,” he replied.
“Naw. I'm not magic.” She flashed him another smile. “But I do know somebody who 
is."
He stared at her for a moment, wondering at her ability to say such things 
without laughing, and headed for his wagon. She hadn't said a word about wanting 
a ride back to the farm, but when she climbed up onto the buckboard beside him 
he figured he had his answer. He slapped the reins down on the horses’ backs and 
the team headed for home.
“If you tell me your secret, I'll tell you one about me,” she said after a 
minute or so into the ride.
“What makes you think I'd care to hear a secret about you?” he responded. The 
sun was burning down onto his head right through his hat, and he was wishing 
she'd worn her bonnet.
She shrugged and looked off at the horizon. “I just thought you might rest a 
little easier about me hanging around the girls if you knew that I sort of 
understand how they feel."
“You with your rich family?” he responded skeptically.
“Money isn't everything, Maguire."
Her light tone had changed, and Joseph looked over to see her staring down at 
her hands in her lap, looking as though she hadn't meant to blurt out that tiny 
piece of wisdom. “I would have given up every expensive toy I had just to have 
my parents around every now and then,” she continued softly.
Her head snapped up. “But let's not wallow in the past. The important thing is 
that, unlike me, Holly and Sissy have a relative to help them. They have you, 
their uncle.” She leaned closer. “And it is imperative that we keep it that 
way."
She was so close he could feel her breath coming up into his face, and for just 
one heartbeat he considered throwing caution to the wind and pulling her into 
his arms. The sound of another wagon coming down the road made him look up. It 
took him a moment to focus, but then he groaned inwardly as he made out the 
round shape of Agnes Reynolds, the official defamer of all things the town's 
Ladies’ Auxiliary happened to consider immoral.
“Mr. Maguirrrre!” the woman called in her shrill voice.
He pulled his wagon up next to hers and stopped, knowing that to ride on would 
only mean she'd follow him back to the house. And after the day his nieces had 
had, he didn't want this self-righteous wind-bag upsetting Holly and Sissy even 
more.
“Mis-ter Maguire,” the woman pronounced, setting her brake and sitting all her 
weight back on her bench seat. “It has come to my attention that you are 
harboring two small girls at that misshapen dirt mound you call a home."
Joseph looked up at the sky and prayed for patience. “I recently lost my 
brother, and my nieces have been willed into my care."
The woman shook her head and made a tisking sound with her tongue. “What a 
horrid situation. But of course you know that you can't possibly keep them."
“Hey, lady?” Tess spoke up. “Who died and made you God?"
“Young lady, I was not speaking to you,” Mrs. Reynolds said sharply. “You are no 
doubt that piece of trash he pulled out of jail yesterday to help him in this 
parental folly."
Joseph felt Tess tense beside him and quickly placed his hand on her knee, 
giving it a little squeeze, hoping she'd take the hint and keep her mouth shut 
in this one instance. A pail of bricks over her head probably wouldn't have been 
hint enough, however.
“And you must be the town busybody, come to make everyone's life miserable,” 
Tess retorted.
Mrs. Reynolds's pale eyes turned cold. “I do not converse with concubines."
“Thanks for the news, but let's stick with the subject at hand, shall we? Mr. 
Maguire happens to care very deeply for his nieces. He knows that the best place 
for them is with their own flesh and blood, and he has no intention of placing 
them in an orphanage. Was there anything else you needed to know?"
“Oh, you've made yourself quite clear, young lady,” the woman replied. “So allow 
me to do the same. A man like Joseph Maguire has no business living in a decent 
town like Sweet Briar, let alone being allowed to raise two impressionable young 
ladies. The very idea is beyond despicable. Andyou are beneath comment."
“Andyou— "
“Mrs. Reynolds,” Joseph interrupted loudly. “What I choose to do with my nieces 
is none of your business. And I would appreciate it if you find something better 
to do than harass my house guests."
The woman let out a huff and loosened the brake on her wagon. “We shall see 
whose business this is.” Without another word, she slapped the reins down onto 
her horses’ backs and rumbled off down the road.
Joseph did the same, trying his best not to look at Tess as he did so. He wasn't 
sure how he felt about her sticking up for him like that. It made him feel sort 
of warm on the inside, which also made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.
“A man like Joseph Maguire?” Tess said in a light but inquiring tone. Her 
curiosity about him had only been heightened by Mrs. Reynolds's comments.
But it had been bound to happen sooner or later. Sooner or later everyone got 
suspicious of him. And he figured it was only a matter of time before Tess 
discovered just exactly what kind of man he really was.
11
Tess opened her eyesthe next morning to the sun glaring in through the barn 
window. She'd stayed up late the night before, braiding Sissy's hair, but she'd 
made very sure before going to bed that she would not be awakened by the sound 
of the Maguire alarm clockau naturel .
She rose to rinse her face and mouth in the bucket she'd filled with water the 
night before, and listened to the sound of the chickens clucking softly outside, 
the pigs rooting contentedly in their muddy pen. She found she was getting used 
to the sounds—and, surprisingly enough, the smells.
Suddenly the barn door banged open, letting in a burst of sunlight, and Joseph 
Maguire was standing in the doorway glaring at her. “Where,” he demanded 
tightly, “is the damn rooster?"
It took Tess a moment to respond. He struck quite a commanding figure standing 
there in a pair of snug-fitting jeans and a faded red shirt rolled up to his 
elbows. She figured it had to be some kind of sick cosmic joke that the one man 
who aggravated her most in the world also happened to captivate her beyond 
reason.
“Are we going to start every day like this, Maguire?” she asked calmly.
He strode toward her. “It's almost ten o'clock, for Christ's sake!"
“And doesn't it feel wonderful? I think everyone should sleep in on Satur—"
“Where!"
She flinched. “He's perfectly all right."
Joseph moved closer. “Just tell me what the hell you did with him!"
“Well, maybe I don't want to!” she shouted back.
“And why the hell not!"
Her lips clamped shut, and she couldn't seem to get the words out that she'd 
thrown the washtub over the vicious old bird the night before. Joseph would only 
get angrier with her, and she simply didn't feel like listening to him shout. 
She tried to walk past him, but he took her by the arm and pulled her back in 
front of him. “Why not?” he persisted.
“Because you'll only bellow at me more and I don't appreciate being treated like 
a child!"
He let her loose and set his hands on his hips. “Miss Harper,” he said evenly, 
“do you have any idea of the purpose of a rooster on a farm?"
“To keep the girl chickens happy?"
“To wake the farmer at sunrise,” he said through his teeth. “And do you happen 
to know why the farmer needs to wake at sunrise?"
“To maximize the time he'll have topester his house guests?"
His jaw clenched. “To utilize every hour of daylight he can. Have you ever tried 
to plow a field in the dark? Have you ever tried to pound a nail, shoe a horse, 
build a fence, milk a cow in the dark?” He paused to catch his breath and then 
let out a cynical laugh. “What am I saying? Of course you haven't. I'm sure 
you're much too busy buyin’ new clothes or paintin’ your damn nails pink to 
bother with a trivial matter like surviving!"
Despite the fact that Joseph Maguire stood well over six inches taller than 
Tess, she reached out and grabbed a handful of his shirt. “I said"—she jerked on 
the material—"that your precious rooster was all right. And if you don't want me 
frying him up for dinner, then I suggest you stop yelling at me!"
He stared down at her hand. “You plannin’ on stoppin’ my clock, lady?"
“If you don't lower your tone, Maguire, you can damn well count on it,” she 
replied tightly.
“All right then.” He reached out and took hold of the front of her nightgown. 
Tess let out a sharp cry as he pulled her toward him, bringing her hips against 
his. “Let's get to it."
Tess hesitated, and Joseph smirked. “Don't tell me that after all your threats 
you don't have it in you."
Tess supposed she truly had finally lost her mind. There she was, standing toe 
to toe with the fiercest man she'd ever met, and she simply couldn't help 
herself. She hauled back her free arm and took a swing at him. She missed, of 
course, and he bent her arm behind her back and hauled her against his chest.
“Good effort,” he said into her face.
“Let go of me!” She wrestled with him for a moment but it proved useless against 
his strength.
“Not until you tell me where my rooster is,” he replied, his warm breath 
brushing over her lips.
“He's in the damn chicken coop!"
“I checked the damn chicken coop."
At her continued wiggling, he let go of the front of her nightgown and wrapped 
both of his arms around her back. Tess stopped all motion immediately, as if 
applying brakes to the front wheel of a bike. His touch, combined with his 
nearness, began to do some very unnerving things to her senses. She went weak 
and warm, dizzy and clammy, and found she had no control over her tongue when 
she cried, “If you let me go, I'll scream!"
Joseph had been about to say something, but now he clamped his mouth shut and 
gave her an odd stare. “I beg your pardon?"
Tess closed her eyes in mortification.If you let me go, I'll scream? She just 
made a very big fool of herself. So she stomped on Joseph's foot in retaliation. 
But the toes of his leather boots were much harder than the heels of her bare 
feet, and she was the one who ended up letting out a yelp of pain.
Joseph responded by lifting her up off the ground until her breasts were shoved 
hard against the solid wall of his chest and their noses were just inches apart. 
“You let me know when you're finished,” he said to her.
Tess caught her breath as the heat of him pressing so intimately against her 
began to wreak its own special kind of havoc. She was struck with a mental image 
of him naked and pressing his hard, hot body down over hers. His mouth and hands 
everywhere, tasting and touching, and she was suddenly pulsing with sexual 
hunger.
She searched his face, as if she might find some answer to her dilemma written 
there, and was horrified to see how dark his eyes had gone. She'd been the 
recipient of that hooded male stare too many times in her life not to know it 
for exactly what it was: Desire.
She gave him a warning look. “Don't even think about it, Maguire.” Her 
breathlessness, however, betrayed her threatening tone.
“Sometimes his own thoughts are the only thing a man's got."
She tried to pull free of him, but he still wasn't letting her go. “In this 
case, pal, that's all you're ever going to get."
He smiled crookedly, making her heart do a double beat, and his gaze fastened on 
her mouth. “Do you have any idea,” he said softly, “how long it's been since 
I've kissed a woman?"
She gave him her best icy stare, not an easy thing considering her body had to 
be the surface temperature of Venus at the moment. “I couldn't care less."
“I think you do care, Tess. I think you've cared since the first moment you saw 
me."
“You're deluded.” She tried to break free of him again, but to no avail.
“Am I? Or are you just too scared to admit I might be right?"
Scared?She lifted her chin and stared down her nose at him. “I think you'll come 
to realize soon, Maguire, that it takes a lot to scare me."
“Like a lot of piglets?” he said, grinning.
She gave him a disdainful glare. “You're impossible."
“I have a feeling you like playin’ with fire."
His face moved so close to hers that she couldn't give voice to the retort she 
itched to fling back. Finally, in a slow, seductive motion, he touched the very 
tip of his tongue to the curve of her bottom lip, and her mutinous heart made a 
valiant effort to leave her chest and jump into his.
“A person who plays with fire,” he whispered against her lips, “tends ta get 
burned.” He took a slow taste of her mouth that left her with absolutely no will 
of her own. “But maybe you like it that way, huh? Maybe you like a man with a 
fury in his heart and a fire in his eyes."
His head dipped forward and his mouth covered hers in a heavy, sexy kiss that 
took Tess's breath away. Her hands, once held stiffly at her sides, crept up his 
strong arms to curve around his neck, and she had a strange fleeting wish that 
he would never let her go.
His mouth brushed over hers, tugging and pulling, and it seemed they stood that 
way for hours, but when Joseph finally moved back and set Tess on her feet, she 
knew she hadn't gotten nearly enough. She wanted more. She pressed up against 
him, feeling his heart hammering against hers as his hands caressed her back 
through the soft cotton of her nightgown. “I think you might be too much for an 
honest man to handle,” he whispered raggedly into her ear, his lips grazing over 
her neck.
She looked up at him through her lashes, hoping with all her heart and soul that 
he didn't really believe that. She'd never felt like this before, not ever in 
her life, and she didn't know what she'd do if he wasn't willing to explore the 
situation a little further.
His mouth, still damp from their kiss, twisted into a wry grin. “Good thing I'm 
not altogether that honest,” he added.
He moved to kiss her again, but Sissy's small voice called to him from the 
house. “Uncle Joseph?"
Seeing the regret in his eyes made Tess feel a little better when Joseph stepped 
away from her to peek out the barn door. “Yeah, Sissy, what is it?” he called 
back.
“Me and Holly are starvin'."
“Go on and start breakfast then. I'll be there in a minute.” He turned back to 
Tess and stared at her for one long uncomfortable moment. “Sissy'll bring you 
out a plate whenever you're ready."
Suddenly self-conscious, Tess made an attempt to smooth down her hair, but she 
hadn't had a bath in four days and knew she was a disaster. Joseph had suggested 
she bathe in the creek when she'd first arrived, and she supposed she was now 
desperate enough to do that.
He turned to leave, but she called after him. “Jo—Maguire? Could ... could I 
grab a quick bath in the creek? I, uh, feel like every speck of dirt in Kansas 
is sticking to my skin."
His eyes were dark and hooded again when he stopped to look back at her, and she 
wondered what he'd say if she asked him to join her. But she wasn't quite that 
brave. “I'll get you a cake of soap and a towel,” he replied. “The chicken coop, 
you said?"
She blinked. “Chicken coop?"
“Where I'll find the rooster."
“Oh, right. The chicken coop."
She watched the intriguing flex of his backside in his well-fitted jeans as he 
walked from the barn and out into the yard. Then she heard him curse and assumed 
he'd found his rooster. She wondered if he was now angry with her again but 
quickly put the notion out of her mind. Something was happening between them, 
something powerful and remarkably exciting. And Joseph wasn't any more immune to 
it than she was.
Beneath a leafy oak canopy, between sloping banks of soft green moss, and under 
a bright blue sky, the slow current of Blossom Creek sparkled like fine crystal 
in the mid-morning sun.
The moment Tess stepped through the concealing brush and caught sight of the 
charming oasis, she knew she'd died and gone to heaven. She pulled her skirt and 
blouse off and slipped into the clear, warm water.
The scattered petals of prairie roses scented the air as she sank to a sitting 
position on the rocky bottom and let the water lap gently at her chin, soothe 
her achy muscles, and rinse away layers of Kansas dust.
She dipped her head backward, beneath the surface of the water, and listened to 
its liquid echo in her ears. Then, using the brown bar of soap Joseph had given 
her, she began scrubbing. The soap had a strange texture, and she couldn't work 
up much of a lather, but it was getting her clean. She washed from head to toe, 
and then stretched out to float and enjoy the peaceful morning.
A few minutes later the snap of a twig close by sent her scrambling beneath the 
surface of the water. With wide eyes she searched both banks, noticing how quiet 
the forest surrounding her had become. “Sissy?"
No answer.
“Holly?"
Still no answer. But she could sense that someone was there, hidden, watching 
her, and suddenly what once had been peaceful solitude turned into isolated 
vulnerability.
“Joseph?” she called sharply. “Is that you?” Could he actually have the gall to 
peep at her while she bathed?
Then a man with long dark, stringy hair came strolling out of the brush, 
grinning, and Tess stared in shock as he walked directly toward where she was 
hunched down in the creek and stopped at the water's edge.
“Who are you, and what the hell do you want?” she demanded.
The man, who stood at least six and a half feet tall, stuck a blade of grass in 
his mouth and twirled it around on his lips. “I was lookin’ for an old friend.” 
His eyes roamed to where Tess hoped she was concealed beneath the water. “But it 
appears I found you."
“And what friend is that?"
“Man by the name of Joseph Maguire. Sounded to me like you might know him."
“Joseph is at the house—waiting for me,” she added hastily, just in case this 
guy was some sort of psycho who had other things besides meeting up with an old 
friend in mind.
“And where is the house?"
She jerked her head in the direction of the farm. “That way."
The man looked off into the trees, and then turned back, smiling. “Gosh, ma'am. 
A fella could wander all through there and get altogether lost."
She glared at him, wondering how Joseph would feel if she refused to help his 
friend. “If you need me to show you the way then I suggest you turn around so I 
can put on some clothes."
“Clothes?” the man repeated. “And spoil all my fun?"
Tess planted her feet on the rocky bottom, determined not to move until he'd 
turned around. Her frosty glare told him as much.
He laughed, a grating sound that sent chills up and down her spine. “No need ta 
get uptight about all this."
“Well, I guess all this just depends on how badly you want to see your old 
friend Joseph,” she casually replied.
His smile turned fifty degrees cooler, and then quietly slipped away. With a 
slight narrowing of his eyes, he turned around. “I'll be gettin’ my horse,” he 
said darkly.
After the man crunched away through the foliage Tess scrambled from the water. 
She darted onto the bank, quickly ran a towel over her body, stuffed her arms 
through the clean shirt she'd brought along, and then shoved her legs into the 
long skirt. By the time she heard the man coming back, she was tying the laces 
on her shoes.
He broke through the brush riding a brown horse with white feet. He was wearing 
buckskin pants and a fringed buckskin shirt that looked as if it hadn't seen a 
washing in years. A long-barreled rifle lay across his lap, and he rode with one 
hand braced on its stock.
Whoever he was, Tess didn't like him, and she was surprised that Joseph counted 
this lower life form as one of his friends. “You ready yet?” he called to her.
She stood, and marched along in front of him, through the thicket, across the 
yard, and straight to the door of the “cave.” She could hear the breakfast 
dishes clattering as she approached, and realized they probably hadn't waited 
breakfast for her, considering how hungry they were at such a late hour of the 
morning. She knocked, and was surprised when Joseph opened the door wearing an 
apron. The thing had to be three sizes too small for his big body.
“Where's Holly and Sissy?” she asked, trying not to smile at the comical picture 
he presented.
He wiped his hands on the front of the stained apron. “Chasin’ gophers in the 
north pasture. I thought you were takin’ a bath."
Reminded of the man sitting on the horse behind her, Tess's smile faded. “I 
was.” She stepped aside so that Joseph could see his friend. “But then the jolly 
dark giant came along and interrupted me."
The man on horseback was grinning, which he'd been doing pretty much non-stop 
since the first moment Tess had seen him. Tess was about to make a remark about 
Joseph's friend's uncommon ability to smile constantly when she turned back and 
got a good look at Joseph's expression. He was enraged. And for once, his icy, 
drilling glare wasn't directed at her.
“Joseph,” the stranger said, his grin now transformed into somewhat of a leer. 
“My, my but it has been a long time."
Joseph took off his apron and stepped away from the door. “Ulyss."
“Ulyss,” the man mocked. “Is that all you got ta say ta me after all these 
years? Why, I figured you'd be jumpin’ up and down with joy at the sight a me. 
But then, maybe yer feelin’ just a tad guilty?"
“Guilty?” Tess repeated softly. But before she could ask a single question about 
this strange situation, Joseph took her by the arm and pulled her behind him.
“I thought you had two more years to go,” Joseph said.
“Well, I decided to take parole at my convenience. My own version of an early 
release, so ta speak."
“What is it you want, Ulyss?"
“Oh,” the stranger said, laughing, “you know what I want, Joseph.” His 
expression changed to one of confusion as he squinted at the barn over his 
shoulder and then at the little sod house in front of him. “Gotta say, though, 
this ain't quite the way I figured on findin’ ya."
“The money's gone. I wrote you in prison and told you that."
The man nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “I remember that letter. I also 
kinda remember not believin’ a word of it."
Tess watched the muscles in Joseph's shoulders bunch. “That's your problem,” he 
replied.
The man pursed his lips. “No, Joseph, old friend. No, I think that's your 
problem, ‘cause half that money was mine. You had no business givin’ it away 
without my permission. Hell, I consider that stealin'."
Tess saw that the stranger's smile was gone, and the deliberating look he gave 
her sent a chill crawling up her spine. “Maybe I oughta take somethin’ a yours 
in return,” he said.
Tess opened her mouth to tell him that she didn't belong to Joseph Maguire by a 
long shot, but Joseph beat her to the punch. “The woman's just hired help I 
brought in from town,” he said. “And that money was never yours to begin with, 
Ulyss. Yours or mine."
“I disagree.” Ulyss set his jaw and looked off to the horizon. “But I'm a fair 
man ... I'm gonna give you a week. One week to return to me what I paid four 
years in prison for. And then I'm gonna whittle you down to nothin', Maguire. 
Startin’ with those pretty little things I saw playin’ in the buffalo grass when 
I rode in."
Tess gasped and took a lunging step toward the man, but Joseph lifted his arm 
and blocked her way.
“One by one. Joseph,” Ulyss went on. “Until you give me back what's mine."
“You can't just ride up to somebody's house and threaten two helpless little 
girls!” Tess shouted, gripping Joseph's arm. “Just who the hell do you think you 
are!"
The man's smile came back, leering and dangerous. “I'm his partner, ma'am. Ain't 
that right, Joseph? And I'm only askin’ for my due. I'm sure those two helpless 
little girls would understand."
Tess clenched her fists and tried again to go after the man, but Joseph put his 
arm around her waist and held her to his side. “The money's gone, Ulyss,” he 
said. “Nothin’ you can do is gonna change that."
The man leaned forward in his saddle. “Wrong again, Joseph. Look's to me like 
it's time you snuck on into the local bank before you find yourself with nothin’ 
left but some pretty little dresses. I'll be waiting at the old mine.” He held 
up a finger. “One week."
Before Tess could lambaste him again, the man applied his heels to his horse and 
took off across the prairie. So she whirled on Joseph. “What was that all 
about!” she demanded. “And why the hell didn't you rip his throat out for 
threatening Holly and Sissy like that!"
“If you hadn't noticed, Miss Harper,” Joseph said tightly, “the man was armed to 
the teeth."
“What money is he talking about?"
“Old business."
He tried to walk past her, back into the house, but Tess moved in front of him 
to block his way. “That man threatened Holly and Sissy, and I want to know why. 
Out with it, damn it! No more secrets!"
A hard glint came into his eyes, and she suddenly had a feeling that she wasn't 
going to like what he had to say. “It was a long time ago,” he said in a low 
voice filled with warning.
“What? What was a long time ago?"
“I made a mistake."
“What kind of mistake?"
“I let myself get talked into doin’ something stupid.” He looked her square in 
the eye and said, evenly, “Ulyss and I robbed the First National Bank."
12
“You didwhat!”Tess bellowed. “Yourobbed the bank!” If Joseph had hoped Tess 
might respond to his past differently than every other person in town, he was 
disappointed. Her reaction was typical. As her face turned red, he took her by 
the arm and dragged her across the yard.
“A bank!” she continued shouting. “He robbed a goddamn bank!"
“Calm down, Miss Harper,” he said to her once they stood beneath the cobwebbed 
rafters of the barn.
“Calm down?” she said through her teeth. “You have the unmitigated gall to hang 
a jail cell over my head for the past three days andyou actuallyare a bank 
robber!"
His nostrils flaring, he gave her a look as cold as the Arctic Sea. “I admitted 
to my mistake and served my time."
“You are some piece of work, Joseph Maguire, I'll say that much for you! 
Certainly the biggest hypocrite I've ever met! Here I've been thinking this 
whole town has it in for me for supposedly robbing their bank and it's been you, 
you all along that they've been glaring daggers at!"
“They'd like to think they can run me off,” he replied bitterly. “Keep me from 
stayin’ in their respectable town."
“Hell, Maguire! Can you blame them?"
When she tried to push past him he stepped into her path. “Talk about hypocrite, 
lady, what do you call this little show of self-righteousness! I pulled you out 
of jail not three days ago with the same charge hanging over your head."
“One big difference, here, pal,I didn't rob the bank!"
Joseph couldn't remember the countless times he'd heard declarations of just 
that sort in the penitentiary. But in this woman's case, he believed her. He'd 
figured her innocent from the start, or he never would have let her near his 
nieces. However, he wasn't about to let her in on that little fact—not after 
this lovely scene she was pulling.
“Whether you committed the crime or not, I paid five dollars to get you out of 
jail and I expect that money to be returned one way or another."
“Ever the merciful one, aren't we?"
“You'll stay and work off your debt."
“And what about what you owe to Holly and Sissy? Your so-calledmistake has 
returned to haunt youand your nieces, Maguire, and I want to know just what you 
plan to do about that."
He was starting to believe that there was only one thing he could do to ensure 
their happiness, but the thought of it made him sick at heart. “I'm not sure,” 
he replied as honestly as he could.
“You're not sure? Well, how about this: You are going to give that man back his 
money—"
“I don't have it!” he bellowed, the sound echoing against the four barn walls, 
making the chickens squawk outside. “My God, weren't you listening? I gave the 
damn money back to the bank in return for a lighter sentence. I got three years. 
Ulyss got six. Jesus, do you think I'd be living in acave if I had any of it? Do 
you think I'd keep it from the bastard if I knew it would guarantee Holly and 
Sissy's safety? Despite what you and the rest of this town think, Miss Harper, I 
am not a monster!"
“Well, certainly you've got money of your own stashed away some place—"
He threw out his arms. “This! Thisis all I have. For almost a year I've broken 
my back just to make enough money to pay the bills. Even if I sold the farmand 
all the livestock, I wouldn't have half of what I need!"
He ran both hands through his hair, and then kicked furiously at a hay bail. 
Tess flinched at the action, and he shook his head in a hopeless gesture. “Hell. 
Maybe I should just throw it all to the wind and steal Ulyss his damn money 
back."
Tess was incredulous. “You can't be serious. You'd go back to prison. What about 
Holly and Sissy?"
“The girls would be better off without me."
“Don't say that!” she shouted furiously. “Your nieces need you. They need you, 
damn it!"
“What they need is five thousand dollars to buy their lives from Ulyss 
Coltrain,” he said.
“Five thousand? Is that it? Is that all you need?"
Joseph frowned at her. Sometimes the things she said worried him, and sometimes 
they scared him half to death. “What do you mean is that all? I don't know about 
you, lady, but where I come from that's more than a year's wage."
“I've got bed sheets worth more than that."
“Of course you do,” he grumbled, remembering her wealthy family.
“There has to be some way we can get our hands on such a piddling sum of cash. 
Legally,” she added pointedly.
“Are the streets in your town paved with gold?"
That question made Tess's expression turn thoughtful. Her gaze slid down to the 
hay bail he'd kicked, to the long shirt with the portrait of the strange man 
he'd been meaning to ask her about. Something beside it glinted brilliantly in 
the stream of sunlight coming in from the open door of the barn.
“How much is gold going for an ounce?” she asked.
He gave her an odd look. “Planning on chasing a rainbow now?"
“How much?"
“Same as always. Thirty-five."
She stepped around him, bent down, and picked up the heavy object lying in the 
hay. It sparkled in the sunlight and he figured his eyes had to be deceiving 
him. “Will this do?” she asked, a smile playing on her lips.
Joseph stared at the slender object in her hand. He took it from her to test its 
weight.
“It's a candleholder I bought at an auction in London,” she told him, and then 
she smiled. “But the teller at the bank thinks it's a solid gold shotgun."
And it must have cost her a fortune, Joseph decided. Or at least more money than 
he'd ever seen in his lifetime. “It feels like ten pounds ... maybe more."
“That's over five thousand dollars right there,” she said proudly.
Her eyes connected with his, nothing but electricity and heat, and he felt a 
strong pull of desire tug at his stomach. “Are you sure you wanna part with 
this?” he asked, not understanding her motives.
“If you'll use it to ensure that you and the girls can live happily ever after."
His nieces’ happiness meant a lot to her, Joseph realized, and he nodded 
studying her thoughtfully. Holly and Sissywould be living happily ever after, 
and he was starting to get an idea of just exactly how to guarantee it.
Tess snapped another green bean in half and tossed it into the basket resting in 
her lap. She was sitting in the shade with both Holly and Sissy, enjoying the 
late Saturday afternoon breeze beneath the rustling branches of an oak tree. She 
was also keeping a steady eye on Joseph.
She'd decided to forgive him his skeleton in the closet, agreeing with him that 
he had, indeed, paid for his crime, but that didn't mean she was quite ready to 
trust him. But she had given him the expensive candleholder. Now she'd just have 
to wait and see what he planned to do with it.
“Miss Harper?"
“Yes, Holly,” Tess replied, not taking her eyes off where Joseph was standing in 
the yard, chopping wood.
“Have you ever liked somebody that you ... well that you didn't really want to 
like?"
Tess gave the girl a suspicious look, wondering what her game was this time. She 
was surprised to see that Holly appeared completely serious—even a little 
embarrassed. “Why do you ask?"
“'Cause Holly has a boyfriend,” Sissy piped up. Then she chanted, “Holly has a 
boyfriend, Holly has a boyfriend."
“I do not!” Holly shouted. “I was just curious, that's all."
“Curious about Judson Benhurst's cute little fanny,” Sissy added.
Holly gifted her little sister with a murderous glare, and Tess sensed a war 
coming on. She moved quickly to defuse the situation. “Sissy, I don't think your 
sister appreciates being teased at the moment. I think she would really 
appreciate our help, though."
“I don't wanther help,” Holly snapped.
Tess gave Holly a nudge with her elbow. “I'm sure that Sissy would be more than 
happy to help you, Holly. And I'm sure she would be very serious while she was 
doing it. Isn't that right, Sissy?"
Sissy looked eager, and Holly nodded reluctantly.
“Okay,” Tess continued. “Sissy and I are ready, Holly. Why don't you tell us 
about Judson."
“He's unnerving—and completely rude. He threw a dirt clod at me yesterday right 
after he told me how pretty he thought I was. Can you imagine that, Tess?” Holly 
looked incredulous. “A dirt clod!"
Tess nodded, remembering when Robby Deitz had kissed her behind the bleachers at 
the community stadium, and then fifteen minutes later had set the laces of her 
shoes on fire. “I think men are from a different planet."
“Suzy Denny says they're from the moon,” Holly remarked.
“I think they're stupid,” Sissy joined in. “Toby Myerson can't even spell 
Kansas. Can you believe that, Tess?” she added in an imitation of her sister. 
“He can't even spell the very state he lives in!"
“I don't like Judson at all,” Holly announced. “But sometimes ... I catch myself 
watchin’ him ... and I wonder what it might be like if, well, if he liked me or 
somethin'."
Tess nodded. “That's chemistry. You may not think you like him, but sometimes 
you just don't have any choice in the matter.” Her attention wandered back to 
Joseph and her breath caught in her chest when she saw that he'd removed his 
shirt. His bare, bronzed back, covered in thick muscle, was rippling in the 
sunshine.
“Is that how it is with you and Uncle Joseph?"
Stunned, Tess looked back at Sissy, and then at Holly who seemed to be having a 
hard time containing her smile. “Your uncle and I are just ... are just ... 
friends, Sissy."
“Friends?” Holly replied skeptically. “I don't think I've ever heard you two 
have a conversation where you weren't shoutin’ at each other. And then you're 
always watchin’ each other all moon-eyed. Is he somebody you don't wanna like, 
Tess?"
The question was asked with the utmost sincerity, but Tess found she couldn't 
answer. She supposed Joseph Maguirewas someone she didn't want to like.But 
sometimes the heart has other plans, her mind whispered.
“I know how ya feel,” Holly said. “I don't want to admit I might like Judson 
either."
Tess smiled, realizing that she and Holly had just found common ground. They 
were both fighting with their better instincts against something they didn't 
seem capable of controlling.
“I think you and Uncle Joseph should kiss,” Sissy piped up, scooting closer to 
where Tess sat in the soft grass.
Holly smirked. “I think they already have."
“I think you two should mind your own business,” Tess replied, feeling a little 
embarrassed. “I thought we were going to helpHolly with her love life."
Sissy peered up into Tess's face with wide green eyes. “Do youlove my Uncle 
Joseph. Tess?"
Tess sighed in exasperation. “That was only a figure of speech, Sissy."
“But you might,” Holly persisted.
“Ya sure look at him a lot,” Sissy added.
“And he sure looks at you,” Holly threw in.
“He does?” Tess couldn't help but feel excited by the idea of Joseph's dark 
stare following her around the yard.
“I think you should kiss him,” Sissy whispered again.
“Do you think I should kiss Judson?” Holly asked.
“That all depends on how you feel about him,” Tess replied, her thoughts still 
on Joseph. Did he watch her when she wasn't looking? And if so, why?
“But I'm not all together sure how I feel about him,” Holly replied.
“Tell you what, Holly. You wait until you're sure, and when you are, you let 
Judson kiss you. That way if you don't like it you have a good excuse to punch 
him in the nose."
“Punch who in the nose?"
All three of them looked up to find Joseph standing over them. His chest was 
still bare, and he was using his shirt to wipe the sweat from his hard stomach. 
He looked down at Tess and her heart jumped into her throat. “Should I be 
worried?” he asked.
“Holly's gonna punch Judson,” Sissy announced merrily.
“Shhh!” Holly said.
But Joseph's interest was piqued. His eyes narrowed. “Judson Benhurst? Did that 
boy do something to you, Holly?"
“Not yet,” Sissy giggled.
This time Tess gave the little girl a silencing glare. She doubted Joseph was 
ready to hear about his elder niece's exploits with the opposite sex. “It's just 
a little female gossip, Maguire. Nothing to concern yourself with."
He looked them all over with a discerning eye and then nodded. “We're expecting 
Doc Nathan and his wife for an early supper, girls. You'd better get in the 
house and put on your best dresses."
“But what about Tess?” Sissy asked. “She doesn't have a best dress."
Tess exchanged a look with Joseph, both of them knowing all she had were the 
skirts and blouses he'd bought for her, and they were already starting to look a 
little ragged after all the work she'd been doing in them. “Miss Harper looks 
just fine the way she is,” Joseph replied.
Tess appreciated his compliment, but still wished she had something a little 
more attractive to wear since everyone else would obviously be dressing up for 
the occasion.
“What about Ma's dress?” Sissy piped up. She looked at Holly for approval.
Holly nodded slowly, and then gave Tess a hesitant smile. “I think it just might 
fit her."
The two girls set aside their baskets of beans and climbed up from their places 
on the ground. Then they each took one of Tess's hands, pulled her to her feet, 
and left her waiting outside the sod house.
Tess cast a bewildered look back at Joseph and found him staring after the three 
of them with a deeply thoughtful look on his face. She couldn't help but wonder 
what the man was considering so intently.
13
From what Tess could make outin the blurry image staring back at her in the two 
silver platters Holly and Sissy were holding, the dress was beautiful. It was 
peach and ivory lace, and was even long enough to cover the toes of her ugly 
pointed shoes. It was a little big in the waist, but made up for it by fitting 
her snugly in the bodice. The sleeves were long and tight, ending with a tuft of 
ivory lace that spilled out over the backs of her hands.
She'd pinned her hair up on top of her head, leaving a few wispy tendrils to 
trail down her neck and against her cheeks, giving her a natural, windblown 
look.
“You look pretty,” Sissy told her. She was crouched on the floor, holding a 
silver platter lengthwise that, combined with its twin above it, was standing in 
as Tess's full-length mirror. “Doesn't she, Holly?"
Holly nodded. She was holding the upper platter, and Tess glanced at her and saw 
that the teenager's eyes were filling with tears. “Holly, what is it?” she 
asked, concerned that maybe the girl hadn't really wanted someone else wearing 
her mother's dress.
“I'm all right,” Holly said, sniffing. “I just haven't seen anyone wear that 
since last Valentine's day when Ma and Pa went to the Miller's sweetheart 
dance."
“Oh, Holly, I'm sorry.” Tess moved toward her, the dress rustling around her 
legs. “I can take the dress off. I can wear one of the skirts and—"
“No, no.” Holly lowered the platter she was holding. “I—I want you to wear it. 
You look beautiful in it, you really do."
“Are you sure?"
Holly's lower lip trembled. “It's just that I miss them so much. I really do."
“I do, too,” Sissy added, and burst into tears.
Before Tess knew it she had both Maguire girls wrapped around her waist bawling 
their little eyes out, and it wasn't long before she was giving in to tears 
herself.
That was the way Joseph found them, huddled in a weeping mass, the barn echoing 
with their sobs. He called attention to himself by clearing his throat and the 
three of them pulled apart to dry their faces. After all the work they'd put 
into their appearances, they all laughed at how sorry they now looked and 
straightened each other's hair and dresses. Then they stood in a line for 
Joseph's approval, Sissy in her sprigged blue cotton, and Holly in rose-colored 
muslin.
“The doctor and his wife are here,” Joseph announced. “You girls go on up and 
greet them, and Miss Harper and I'll be along in a minute."
The girls hurried away to do as their uncle told them, and Tess smoothed 
self-consciously at the front of the lacy gown. “They look great, don't they?” 
she asked, nervous as to why he wanted to see her alone.
“They do,” he agreed stepping forward.
He was dressed all in black except for the pristine white of his shirt, one Tess 
had apparently never gotten her hands on in the wash, and she let her admiring 
gaze run a path from his head to his toes. “So do you,” she admitted, trying to 
contain her smile. It felt so good to be clean and dressed nicely again. “Was 
there something you needed to talk with me about?"
“The, uh, the candleholder."
Her throat tightened in panic. He hadn't changed his mind about paying off Ulyss 
had he? “Yes?"
“I plan to take it into town tomorrow to have it appraised and sold for its 
weight."
“Good. Good,” she replied, knowing there was more. “Did you want me to come 
along?"
“No.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black jacket. “No, I ... 
listen, I just wanted to tell you that you were right about Holly and Sissy. 
They do need somebody they can count on to look after them, and I want you to 
know that they'll always have that."
Tess felt a tide of peace sweep through her. He understood. He finally 
understood. “Thank you for reassuring me,” she managed to say very calmly. Good 
God, she'd done it, she'd convinced him to keep his nieces!
Now she could go home.
The realization hit her hard and she found herself searching for something to 
grab hold of, thinking she would be zapped back to the twentieth century at any 
given moment. She wasn't ready to leave yet. She'd only just begun to enjoy 
Holly and Sissy, and to explore these strange new feelings she had for Joseph. 
She needed just a little more time.
“Are you all right?” Joseph asked her, seeing her sudden panic.
“I—I'm not quite ready to leave yet."
“I'm not asking you to go. Sissy and Holly need you."
Tess felt new tears burn her eyes. “I've never been needed before.” She laughed. 
“It feels very ... odd, maybe even a little scary."
He smiled, almost sadly, and reached out to curve his hand around her face in a 
surprisingly tender gesture. “I know exactly what you mean. But I also happen to 
believe that you are a very strong lady who can pull off just about anything."
Tess stared at him, stunned by his compliment. “Thank you,” she replied softly. 
“Your confidence means a lot to me."
His fingers caressed her cheek, and for one brief, heavenly moment, Tess thought 
he might kiss her. They both heard Sissy's shout and pulled apart as the little 
girl came charging into the barn. “Uncle Joseph! Uncle Joseph! Mrs. Nathan says 
she'll make my pink coat into a quilt! Can you believe it! Can you believe it, 
Tess! A quilt to wrap around me when I'm cold!"
Tess smiled at Joseph, grateful that Sissy would always have more than just that 
ratty old robe to keep her safe and secure. He scooped Sissy up into his arms 
and gave her a smacking kiss on the forehead. Then he put his other arm over 
Tess's shoulders and they all walked out of the barn.
Till the day he died, Joseph Maguire would never understand women. You admired 
them. You courted them. You made love to them every chance you got. And then, 
just when you thought you'd finally gotten them all figured out, along came one 
that knocked you on your ass.
Tess Harper was just that type of woman. She was hostile, and yet he'd seen the 
tender way in which she handled both Sissy and Holly. She was spoiled, and yet 
her indomitable pride refused to let her back down from any challenge. The woman 
was selfish to a fault, and yet she was giving up a very expensive piece of gold 
in order to protect two children she'd known for only four days.
She had also made it easy for him to finally do the right thing by his nieces.
Harriet Simms had done more than simply voice the concerns of the populace about 
the Maguire girls. And Ulyss Coltrain had done more than ride into what Joseph 
had felt a fairly secure world and threaten all their lives. Those two people, 
combined with all the rest of the self-righteous bullshit Joseph had been forced 
to put up with over the course of the past year, had finally shown him the folly 
of his ways.
His past was never going to leave him alone, and it was too much for Holly and 
Sissy to be expected to bear. Lucky for the two of them, their uncle had 
stumbled onto a much better example of a parent than he could ever be.
Joseph had formulated his plan the afternoon before when he'd seen how attached 
the girls were becoming to Tess. They were laughing together, telling secrets 
together, and even crying together in the barn. He would liquidate the 
candlestick, deposit the money in the First National Bank in Tess's name, and 
then quietly slip out of town. Joseph would deal with Ulyss Coltrain—but on his 
terms—and with the precise type of payment the bastard so richly deserved.
He had been glad to note at supper the day before that Tess was taking to the 
doctor and his good-hearted wife as if they were members of the family. 
Unfortunately, the doctor had insisted that she return to town the next day for 
a follow-up exam, and so Joseph was forced to pack her and the girls up in the 
wagon the next morning and take them with him into town. Of course, now, as they 
were all standing on the boardwalk in front of the doctor's house, Tess was 
giving him grief about his going to the assayer's without her.
“I don't see why you can't wait until I'm finished,” she said for the third 
time.
“What's an assayer?” Sissy asked, and Joseph crouched down in front of his 
littlest niece, knowing he was about to say good-bye for the final time.
“It's a man who turns gold into money. Now, give me a squeeze good-bye."
Emotion tightened his throat as Sissy slipped her small arms around his neck and 
squeezed until he couldn't breathe. He pulled back and tousled her golden hair. 
“You be a good girl, now, for Miss Harper."
Joseph straightened and turned to Holly. Since her discussion with Tess in the 
thicket two days before there had been a new light in the girl's eyes, a sign of 
the carefree young lady she'd once been. He could see her turning to Tess for 
guidance more and more, which made him feel even more certain that he was making 
the right decision.
“Good-bye, Holly."
Holly gave him an odd look, as if she couldn't understand why he was making such 
a fuss about leaving them for a couple of hours. “See ya, Uncle Joseph."
He chucked her beneath the chin and turned to Tess with a regretful smile on his 
lips. There could have been something wonderful between them, he could admit 
that to himself now that he knew he'd never see her again. He was half tempted 
to take her into his arms right there in public and give her something to 
remember him by for the rest of her life. But he settled for a gentle brush of 
his hand over her smooth cheek. “See ya,” he said in a rough voice.
“Absolutely,” she responded, her eyes searching his face.
Joseph turned away before the perceptive woman could read his intentions in his 
expression. He walked into the street, but had to turn back for one final 
glance. Tess was ushering his two nieces into the doctor's house, and then she 
closed the door. His final vision of them.
He continued onward up the street with a drag to his normal stride.This is a 
perfect plan, he kept telling himself, hoping that he'd believe the claim sooner 
or later. By the time Tess became suspicious of how long he'd been gone, the 
candleholder money would be deposited in the bank, and he'd be a good mile or so 
out of town. Doc and Alice Nathan were the only two people in Sweet Briar he 
trusted, and he knew they would help her and the girls make the adjustment when 
everyone realized he was gone.
It was a bright summer day that greeted Joseph as he left the bank with a 
deposit slip for five thousand and twenty-three dollars in his hand. He looked 
up at a cloudless sky and figured he had a good two days of pleasant weather 
ahead of him.
In all his twenty-six years, he'd never seen Arizona. He'd heard it was warm 
there year round, and figured that was as good a place as any for a man to start 
over. But first he'd be paying Ulyss a visit at the mine, ensuring once and for 
all the safety and happiness of his nieces and the one and only woman who'd ever 
managed to steal a little piece of his heart.
14
Joseph had been riding for almostan hour when he stopped to look back over his 
shoulder. What he saw made him stare in amazement. The woman coming up behind 
him was riding like a Union Cavalry Officer, hell-bent for war. Her stance was 
low and tight, her long pale hair whipping in the wind behind her. Who would 
have thought Tess Harper even knew which end of a horse was which, let alone how 
to keep her shapely butt planted in the saddle at a full-out run?
And running that horse she was, kicking up a cloud of dust so high a myopic man 
in Texas could have made out her trail.
She was headed straight for him, and there was no doubt in Joseph's mind that he 
was about to get an earful. He wanted to be furious that she'd somehow followed 
him, but damn if he couldn't get past the exhilaration of seeing her again—and 
after he'd thought he'd said good-bye for good in Sweet Briar.
She came to a dead stop in front of him, easily handling the high-spirited 
animal she rode. He started to comment on how well she controlled the horse, but 
then got a good look at what she was wearing and had to clamp his jaw shut to 
keep it from dropping open.
She was dressed in faded blue denims that hugged her thighs and hips like a 
second skin—which left very little to an imagination that had already wandered 
in that particular direction too damn many times.
He could see the outline of her breasts through the thin material of her white 
linen shirt, and had to shut his eyes for control, hoping that something might 
change when he opened them again. Nothing did. She was the sexiest thing he'd 
ever seen.
The gentleman's shirt she was wearing had only been buttoned halfway up the 
front, showing off a deep crease of golden cleavage as it hung loosely from her 
narrow shoulders. The cuffs were rolled up to her elbows, and the tails were 
pulled into a knot against her stomach—as if the damn thing might fall off 
altogether if she didn't tie it on.
“Where the hell do you think you're going?” she demanded, sparks of fury leaping 
in her eyes.
Joseph didn't answer because, at the moment, he couldn't quiteremember where he 
was going.
“That's right, Maguire, don't even bother to answer. I followed you to the 
assayer's office, so I know exactly what you've been up to all afternoon."
God, her lips were beautiful. The memory of their one fleeting kiss skipped 
through his mind and toyed with his heart rate. Damn if he wasn't tempted to 
pull her off that horse and see for himself just how tight those denims really 
were.
“Are you listening to me!” she shouted. Then her gaze dropped to the gun he was 
wearing strapped to his hip. “You were going tokill Ulyss, weren't you?"
He chose not to answer.
“Sheriff Wilson said Ulyss is wanted for escaping from prison—"
“You talked to Wilson?” The last thing he needed was for the law to get involved 
in all this.
“He's the sheriff, Maguire. They're the good guys, remember?"
He gave her an incredulous look. “And who the hell told you that fairy tale?” 
She opened her mouth to respond, but he interrupted. “You went to the bank and 
brought all that money with you, didn't you.” Her expression told him as much, 
and he covered his face with his hands. “Did anybody know which way you were 
headin'?"
“The livery man who loaned me this horse pointed me in direction you'd ridden. I 
thought that was very nice of him—"
“You're lucky Wingate's too old to be a problem. When it comes to money, don't 
trust anybody, damn it!"
“Not even you, apparently,” she remarked.
He gave her a sharp look. “Least of all me. Now get back to Sweet Briar where 
you belong.” He turned his horse west and nudged it forward. “You should have 
left well enough alone."
She rode after him, pulling up beside him. “Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Maguire, if I 
happen to think your nieces need you. And my guess is that you were intending to 
leave them. For good."
Joseph didn't respond as his horse walked along, hoping his silence would make 
her angry enough to turn around and ride back to town.
“It would have worked, you know, if you hadn't been so eager to get away from us 
at Doc Nathan's. When you gave us all such heartfelt good-byes I got suspicious 
and followed you."
Joseph closed his eyes. He'd made yet another mistake in his life; he'd 
underestimated this very intelligent woman.
“Your heart gave you away, Joseph."
He looked over at her sharply and found her staring at him. “You're not any more 
surprised to discover I have one than I am, lady."
“I'm not surprised at all,” she replied. “Just amazed at how well you keep it 
hidden."
He smiled cynically. “A little bitty thing like that's not hard to tuck away. 
The trick is gettin’ it put back out of reach when you're finished with it."
“And do you always put it back out of reach?"
He studied her for a moment, the glint of the sun in her pale hair, the charming 
freckles on her nose. She was the picture of frailty and innocence, but full of 
strength and passion on the inside. A paradox, that's what Matthew would have 
called her: Two different sides of a coin. She had the ability to intrigue and 
enrage all at the same time. She was inexplicably, unequivocally, unpredictable.
“Is that a no?” she persisted.
“That's a none of your business."
“Not interested in talking about your love life then? Or, rather, the lack of 
it?"
Joseph had long ago come to the conclusion that Tess enjoyed egging him on. It 
was an entertainment of sorts for her that could really rub him raw. “Just 
exactly when do you plan to turn back?” he asked.
“Oh, I won't be turning back. You told me you'd be giving Ulyss that money to 
make him leave you and the girls alone so you could live happily ever after. I'm 
coming along to see that you live up to your word."
He pulled his horse up short. “I don't think so."
She smiled, but the expression didn't quite reach her eyes. “Just try and stop 
me."
“You can play stubborn all you like, lady, but either you turn back now or 
you're gonna find yourself left alone on the wild prairie."
She turned her face away in response, and Joseph figured he had his answer. So 
he kicked his horse into a run and tore off down the road.
It was becoming a matter of pride. If it was the last thing Tess did in her 
life, or at least in this century, she was determined to make Joseph Maguire 
understand that he couldn't abandon his nieces to a cold and heartless place 
like an orphanage. Even if it meant trailing him to the ends of the earth!
They'd been traveling, in silence, for over four hours, through fields choked 
with wild flowers and tall green buffalo grass, over hills thick with dust and 
booby-trapped with gopher holes. The sun was hot and the air was dry. Tess knew 
her nose was sunburned, and she was getting very thirsty.
Joseph seemed fine, though, rocking in his saddle a few feet in front of her. He 
was still brooding about her tagging along with him. She had to give him credit, 
though, for the valiant effort he'd made to ditch her earlier that afternoon. 
But he'd finally given up about an hour or so ago, seeming to accept that she 
was better on a horse than he was, considering her family owned an entire stable 
of thoroughbreds, and that she was bound and determined to have her way in this 
situation.
Tess tried to clear her throat, but only made it more scratchy with her effort. 
Finally she couldn't stand it any longer.
“Hey! John Wayne!” she croaked.
Joseph paused and glowered back at her.
“I need a drink!"
At first Tess was unsure that he'd be willing to share any of his provisions 
with her. But when he unwrapped his canteen string from his saddle horn she 
assumed, mistakenly, that he'd ride back and hand the thing to her. The metal 
container came flying through the air, and she caught it just before it conked 
her in the head.
“Thanks,” she remarked sarcastically, and uncocked the top for a long healthy 
swig. She choked on the water at first, not expecting it to be quite so warm or 
quite so metallic tasting, but then she somehow managed to get it down and keep 
it there.
“Yummy,” she said with a grimace after she'd finished.
“There won't be any more water until we camp for the night, lady, so don't sit 
there nursing it."
Tess pounded the cork into the neck of the canteen and threw it back at him. It 
only infuriated her more when he caught it easily in one hand.
He tied the canteen back onto his saddle. “I only brought enough water for 
myself. I wasn't expecting to be ambushed a mile outside of town."
“Oh, stop moping, Maguire. It doesn't suit you, and, apparently, neither does 
keeping your word."
He gave her a chilly look and nudged his horse forward again. “I don't supposed 
I should ask you just where you've stashed my nieces so you could come chasing 
after me."
“What's that? Suddenly you're worried about who's caring for them?” His back 
stiffened, and she smiled in satisfaction. “They're staying with the Nathans 
untilwe get back.” She made sure to stress the word “we,” but he either ignored 
the implication or didn't seem to notice.
“How long did you tell them you'd be gone?” he asked.
“I said we'd be back in two or three days. I wasn't sure how far away that mine 
Ulyss mentioned was. Sheriff Wilson said it was probably somewhere around Dodge 
City, though, since that's where you're originally from. I've heard about that 
town, you know. This should be a very interesting trip."
“You'll get your head blown off if you wander into Dodge, lady."
“But I'll be safe, Joseph,” she said sweetly, “because I'll be with you."
“Look, I'll give the man your money if that's what you really want, just as long 
as it's understood that afterwards I'm headed for Arizona. Alone,” he added 
pointedly. “No questions asked."
“Arizona? You don't want to go there, Maguire. They've got flies the size of 
buzzards."
He didn't respond and she stared at the back of his head, wishing she could take 
a hefty board to it—if only it really was possible to knock some sense into 
somebody. “So that's it, then,” she added. “You're running away."
He stopped his horse with one good jerk of the reins. “Don't push me, lady! That 
shit may work on Holly but it'll only serve to piss me off! Damn it, turn around 
and go the hell home!"
Joseph started forward again at a healthy trot, and Tess stared after him, 
realizing she wasn't sure where home was any more. As determined as ever, 
though, she urged her horse after him.
A few hours later the sun was dropping low in the west, and Tess knew it was 
getting close to dinner by the way her stomach began to growl. She couldn't help 
but wonder if Joseph was going to be as stingy with his food as he was with his 
water.
They made camp within a grove of thick walnut trees, and had a small fire going 
just as the first stars began to twinkle in the night sky. She sat on the ground 
in front of her saddle and watched Joseph untie his bedroll and unroll it on the 
dirt. Then she waited anxiously for any sign of the food he'd surely brought 
with him.
When he sat down on his blankets and started snapping twigs for firewood she 
began to get annoyed. “So, what's for dinner?” she finally asked.
He looked over at her with the flames of the fire reflected in his eyes. “What 
did you have in mind?"
“Oh, I don't know. Some Taco Bell. Some Burger King. A giant size order of fries 
would go down pretty nicely about now."
“Fries,” he repeated, deadpan.
“Yes, Maguire, fries. Narrow strips of potatoes, deep fried and salted. The 
weakness of just about every red-blooded American on the face of the earth."
“Never heard of fries."
She smiled at him. “Of course you haven't.” His answering stare spoke his 
irritation in volumes, and she decided to have some fun at his expense.
“Then there's always the very decadent pizza."
His green eyes narrowed.
“A thick, chewy, golden brown crust, smeared with sweet red tomato sauce, 
covered with pepperoni and black olives, sausage and green peppers.” She took a 
breath, and closed her eyes. “And piles andpiles of cheese. You top that off 
with a cold beer and you're in heaven, baby."
“Have you always had this infatuation with food?"
“Always."
He snorted. “I'm amazed you don't weigh three hundred pounds."
“You can chalk that up to tennis. Now, I'm hungry!” she shouted at him. 
“Starving! And if you don't feed me within the next five minutes you can 
consider these hills the Sierras and you an unfortunate member of the Donner 
party!"
He stared at her in shock, and then looked as if he were trying not to laugh. 
She'd apparently stumbled upon an analogy he understood. He reached back into 
the saddlebags behind him and pulled out a brown paper sack. He took out a 
halved biscuit with sliced meat in the center and tossed it to her. “Picked ’em 
up from the bakery on my way out of town today."
Tess almost wept with joy at how good the meat smelled. It wasn't Arby's, but it 
would certainly do. “Thank you."
He leaned back on his elbow and watched her take a bite. “Wouldn't want ya 
gnawin’ on me in the middle of the night,” he said softly.
Completely unbidden, a hot blush crept up Tess's neck, and she knew it was 
glowing like a neon sign in the darkness.
Joseph smiled at her, and then added, “That is, unless the feast was mutual."
She took another bite, this one worthy of a pit bull, and his brows raised.
“Is it good?” he inquired.
“Um-hmm,” she responded, her mouth full.
He smiled again, wickedly this time. “Not as good as it could be.” He reached 
forward as if to brush a crumb off her chin, but then pulled back. “Maybe I 
shouldn't get my fingers too close."
She scowled, and swallowed what was in her mouth. “You can be very rude, you 
know that?"
“That's an interesting thing for you of all people to say."
“Ah, but whenI'm being rude it's usually because I'm being honest. There is a 
distinct difference between candor and malice."
“You're honest?” He shuffled a little closer, until he was lying stretched out 
beside where she was sitting. “Then why don't you honestly tell me, Miss Harper, 
just why the hell you're always giving me that come-hither look?"
“I don't know what you mean."
“Come hither. It means—"
“I know what the damn saying means, Maguire, and I haven't been looking at you 
that way at all. I'm not at all interested in you sexually, if that's what 
you're getting at."
“Really?"
“Really."
He leaned closer. “You're sure?” he whispered.
“Positive,” she replied even as her heart starting beating faster.
“Then it wouldn't bother you at all ... sexually ... if I did this?” He reached 
over and caressed the side of her neck, grazing his warm fingers along her jaw 
until Tess wasn't sure about anything at all. She closed her eyes, and allowed 
his hand to slip around her shoulder and slowly pull her down on top of his hard 
body.
“Am I bothering you at all?” he whispered against her lips.
“Not ... not at all,” she managed to reply.
A groan slipped from the back of her throat as he pulled her to his hungry 
mouth. She was a liar to the bone, and now he knew it as well. His hands 
traveled down her back and pressed her hips to his. Every inch of him was hard 
and aroused, and she felt desire swirl deep in the pit of her stomach.
“I want you, Tess,” he whispered against her mouth. “And I know damn well you 
want me."
Of course she wanted him. How could she not? How could any woman not want this 
strong, dangerous man? “Are you trying to kiss me into submission?” she asked, 
her voice weak and wavering.
“Not at all, Miss Harper. I'd rather have you hot and fiery in my bed, than 
pudding-kneed and wilting at my feet."
“And what makes you so sure you'll get me anywhere near your bed, Maguire,” she 
whispered back, “let alone into it?"
He nipped at her bottom lip, and she kissed him back, wishing he'd take a nice, 
long trip around her body and nip on everything else besides. “I think we both 
know the answer to that,” he finally said.
“You're very arrogant,” she said softly.
“You're very spoiled,” he responded, moving his lips along her jawline.
“You're domineering."
“And you're bad-tempered."
“I,” she said with a surprisingly husky laugh, “am not bad-tempered."
He laughed as well, a deep rich sound that made her skin tingle. “Yes, you are, 
Miss Harper. And that makes things even more interesting in my point of view."
“Your very twisted point of view,” she whispered, letting her fingers enjoy the 
silky texture of his long, brown hair. “A point of view that has you believing 
that all you need to do is snap your fingers and I'll fall into bed with you."
She reached over Joseph's head and pulled a blanket from his bedroll which she 
then tossed over her shoulders.
“You won't need that to keep warm tonight,” he whispered.
She rolled off of him and sat back against her saddle. “I will if I sleep right 
over here ... as I plan to do."
He gave her a look filled with raw desire, which she had to admit was hard to 
resist. But she couldn't sleep with him just yet, not until she was sure that 
she was getting through to him about Holly and Sissy.
“Not yet ready to seal your fate?” he asked with a twist of his lips.
She stared at him, swallowing hard. “I'm pretty tired.” She clutched the blanket 
more tightly around her shoulders.
“Uh huh,” he responded in that skeptical tone of voice of his. “And I suppose 
you'll be crawlin’ into my bed later tonight, when you can claim that you were 
too tired to know what you were doin'?"
“I do have a mind of my own, Maguire,” Tess snapped. “I admit that there is a 
slight attraction here between us, but I am in total control of myself."
His twinkling eyes told her that he still doubted every word she'd said.
“As a matter of fact,” she added, “I happen to think you're the weak link here."
“Meaning?” he said with a slight laugh.
“Meaning that I'm strong enough not to give in to my carnal desires, but I 
somehow doubt you're capable of the same."
He tilted his head to one side. “Are you issuing a challenge to me?"
“It's a known fact that women have more self-control than men,” she replied.
“Is that so?"
“That is so."
“All right, lady. You're on. A contest of control it is."
“Just tell me the rules."
He laughed sharply. “There are no rules. The first one to buckle under the 
pressure loses."
“And what does the winner receive?"
He gave her a leer. “Anything they want."
Despite Joseph's suggestive response, Tess's first thought was to get him to 
return to his nieces. “Anything at all?"
His eyes raked her body, giving her a good idea just exactly what his winner's 
wish would be. “Anything humanly possible, Miss Harper,” he replied. “But not 
necessarily within the realm of decency."
15
If she had to look at Joseph Maguire'snaked butt one more time, she was 
absolutely going to scream!
Tess groaned and glanced up at the morning sky, anywhere but at the man bathing 
in the river in front of her. Joseph wasn't even trying to cover himself, a fact 
proved by the particular attention he was paying to washing every lean, muscular 
inch of his body. He was rinsing out every nook and every cranny, and she wasn't 
sure if the heat in her face was born from anger or raging desire.
He had the best looking rear-end she'd ever seen. Two perfect, hard, half moons. 
She could even imagine her hands sliding down over the curves, pulling him 
toward her, urging him to take her to the stars and back. She could feel his 
chest pressing down over hers, their hearts beating together, their breaths 
blending, their bodies—
She groaned in frustration.
Joseph paused in his bathing and looked over his shoulder at her. “Good 
morning,” he said, as if he hadn't known all along that she'd been awake and 
sitting there watching him.
“Just what the hell do you think you're doing?” she demanded.
“Taking a bath,” he replied innocently. Then he smiled. “Wanna join me?"
Tess's resolve almost faltered. “Although you claim there are no rules, Maguire, 
I happen to believe in fighting fair.” She lifted her nose up into the air. “And 
me climbing naked into that river with you would not be fighting fair."
“Are you saying there's no way I could resist the temptation of your bare body, 
Miss Harper?"
“Not in a million years, Mr. Maguire."
He turned fully toward her and Tess's smile melted away. The man was hung like a 
damn horse! She pursed her lips—to keep her mouth from gaping open—and quickly 
averted her eyes. But the memory remained. Oh, the memory wouldalways remain.
“Are you so anxious to win that you plan on strutting around like that all day 
long?” she snapped.
“Are you so afraid of losing that you won't clean up before we ride on?"
She looked back at him but made sure to keep her eyes on his face. He was 
grinning, like she'd never seen him grin before, and, despite her better 
judgment, her pride would not let her back down from this challenge anymore than 
it would let her back down from all the ones he'd issued before.
She stood up and then started unbuttoning her shirt. The cool morning air 
brushed over her bare skin as she slipped off the shirt and let it drop to the 
ground at her feet. Goose bumps raised on her arms, she knew her nipples were 
erect, probably pointing right at Joseph, but she refused to be any less timid 
that he was.
His eyes never left her face, remained intently glued to her own as she stood 
there staring at him, afraid to move. Finally, she popped open the buttons on 
her jeans. With slow precision, she slipped the soft, worn denim and her pink 
silk panties down her hips and stepped out of them.
It was a stare-down to end all stare-downs; neither one of them blinking, 
flinching, or even breathing for that matter.
Joseph made the first move, startling Tess when he reached out to her. “Coming?"
Practically, Tess thought. She walked toward him, her eyes never wavering from 
his, and stepped into the warm Arkansas River.
She was bathing naked with a man she barely knew and yet desired more than Elvis 
Presley craved peanut butter and banana sandwiches. Neither one of them was 
looking below the other's neck, and Tess felt like a ten-year-old getting her 
first kiss from a boy.
“Need the soap?” Joseph asked.
Was it her imagination or had his voice wavered just the tiniest bit when he'd 
asked that? “No,” she replied. She wasn't interested in lathering up. She wanted 
this over and done with as soon as possible.
“Take the soap."
She gave him a sharp look and replied, curtly, “I don't want it."
“But that doesn't necessarily mean you don'tneed it."
“Are you saying I stink?"
“You smell like sweat and horse."
“No more than you."
He smiled tightly. “That's why I used the soap—"
“I saw that!"
“Saw what?"
“You looked at me!"
“I did not."
“Yes, you did! You looked at me"—she flicked her eyes over him—"Just like that!"
“I didn't dothat .” He flicked his eyes over her.
“Stop it!"
“You stop it!"
“Can't take it, can you, Maguire?” she taunted. “You can't even stand next to me 
for two minutes without running your eyes all over my body!"
He moved a step closer in the knee-deep water. “If I couldn't take it, lady, I'd 
be running more than my eyes all over your body. And while we're talking about 
lookin', who was it who couldn't keep their eyes off my ass a few minutes ago?"
She clenched her teeth and glared at him. “How could I not stare at it when it's 
so damn wide it takes up my entire view. I'm surprised you can squeeze that 
thing into a saddle, Maguire!"
“Getcha a little hot and bothered, did it?"
“Oh, shut up!” She lifted her hands and shoved against his chest as hard as she 
could, making him stumble slightly.
And then the man had the nerve to push her back, almost toppling her into the 
water.
“Don't touch me!” she snapped moving out of his reach.
“Then I suggest you keep your hands off me."
“I will, when you keep your eyes to yourself,” she retorted.
“I didn't—” he began furiously. But his gaze had moved downward again, this time 
in a much more obvious motion than before, and his attention latched onto her 
bare breasts. His eyes rounded slightly, and even from where Tess was standing 
three feet away, she could see his stare glaze over, could see his breathing 
pick up.
When his hands raised slowly toward her, she moved a hasty step back. “Don't you 
dare!"
He swallowed. “You're—"
“Off-limits. Remember? Or were you planning on forfeiting the contest?"
“Looking isn't against the rules,” he replied, his voice deep and husky. 
“Unless, of course, you don't think you can take it."
She certainly had more control than he did! To prove that fact she set her hands 
on her hips and silently dared him to give her his best shot. And he did, 
standing back and letting his eyes wander up and down, over and across, taking 
in every square, bare, inch of her skin.
She wanted to run for cover, but she refused to be embarrassed byhis lack of 
control. Besides, it wasn't as if he were actually touching her—although it 
certainly felt that way.
“What happened?” he asked softly, pointing at her abdomen.
She didn't have to look to know he was referring to the three-inch scar over her 
right hip bone. “Appendix."
“And there?"
“Fell on a pair of scissors when I was seven.” It had taken both Mrs. Smalls and 
the housekeeper to pull those damn things out of her upper thigh. And Tess now 
had a nice permanent scar to show for it.
“You're a natural blonde."
“How nice of you to point that out."
“You don't eat much, do ya?"
“If you're finished—"
“Beautiful,” she heard him whisper. “Absolutely beautiful."
She was so stunned by his compliment that at first she doubted she'd heard it. 
“Well, you're—you're not so bad yourself."
He grinned. “Afraid to take a good look?"
“Not at all. Despite what you might be thinking, Maguire, I'm not some vestal 
virgin who's never seen a man naked before."
He held his arms out at his sides. “Then help yourself."
He was challenging her again, the bastard. So she took a deep breath, lifted her 
chin and started at the sculpted ridges of his broad shoulders.
He was a powerful man, no doubt about it. She let her eyes graze over the bulges 
along his thick arms. He was tapered nicely at the waist, hard as nails in the 
stomach, and well defined and slightly hairy in the thighs.
Go ahead, Tess,her mind prodded.Go ahead and look at it. It can't possibly be as 
gigantic as you first thought .
Her mouth was going dry with indecision, and then Joseph moved closer and turned 
to the side. He lifted his left arm. “That's my scar."
Her eyes skipped to a spot halfway down his ribs where a six-inch-long scar cut 
at an angle toward his back. She stared at it, imagining how painful the wound 
must have been. “How did it happen?"
“One of the deputies who captured me got a little zealous with his buffalo 
knife."
“Were you trying to get away?"
“I was cuffed to a tree at the time."
She gasped. “That son of a bitch."
“It took fifty-three stitches to sew it up."
“Jesus, Maguire. You're lucky you survived.” She looked up into his face and was 
instantly caught in the web of his magnetic gaze.
“Yeah, I...” His warm breath brushed over her face. “...I guess I am."
He was standing so close she could see flecks of blue in his green eyes. Her 
attention slipped down to his mouth, remembering how good it felt to be kissed 
by him, and her heart kicked.
He wasn't moving away and she realized she had her fingers pressed to the scar 
on his ribs. She slowly pulled back her hand. “We should get dressed,” she said 
softly. “Before we catch colds."
“Before we both end up losing?” he asked huskily.
Tess moved away from him toward the bank, feeling the heat of his stare on her 
back.
“However,” she heard him add softly, “settling a draw might be sorta 
interesting."
He couldn't get the image of her naked, wet body out of his mind. And having her 
riding silently beside him all morning long, within reach, hadn't done much for 
his composure. What he needed, Joseph realized, was for her to turn on him 
again, lash out the way she usually did and make him forget all about what she 
looked like beneath those tight clothes of hers.
No, his mind argued, what he really needed was to lay her down on a soft pile of 
spring grass and make sweet love to her till the cows came home. Then maybe he 
could get on with his life and forget this crazy woman who'd blown into his 
life, turning everything upside down like a Kansas City twister.
“When we get to Dodge, I want you to keep your mouth shut and stay close,” he 
told her.
“All right,” Tess agreed. Too readily, in Joseph's point of view.
He gave her a sharp look. “Whaddaya mean all right?"
“I mean I'll keep my mouth shut and stay close to you."
“Since when do you do a damn thing I say?” he demanded.
She gave him a baffled stare, her blue eyes squinting in the sunlight. “Since 
I've never been to Dodge and assume you know what you're doing."
He studied her face for a moment, thinking she had to be the most confusing 
woman in the world, and then turned his attention to the road ahead of them.
“And how far is it to the mine from Dodge?” she asked.
Joseph got a stomach turning flash of her following him up the mountain to 
confront Ulyss. “You're not going with me to the mine, Tess."
“Yes I am."
“No you're not, God damn it, and don't start arguing with me now."
“Why can't I go?” she persisted.
“Because I plan to deposit you in a hotel room with a sturdy lock on the door, 
and take care of this matter by myself."
“And give you the chance to run off again?” she asked. “I don't think so."
“This isn't a game, lady,” he said through his teeth. “And I'm not going to let 
that pride of yours get you killed!"
“Damn it, Joseph,” she shouted back at him. “Don't you even care what your 
leaving will do to Holly and Sissy! You are all they have!"
His heart tugged at the mention of his nieces. But he'd promised Matthew he'd do 
what was best for them, and he knew that leaving was best. “Once we're finished 
in Dodge I'll see that you get back to them."
“And then you'll kiss them good-bye and ride off into the sunset? Leave them in 
the hands of some unknown fate?"
He turned and gave her a steady look. “I'll be leaving them with you."
“With me!” she cried. “I don't know any more than you do about taking care of 
two young girls!"
He gave her a wry smile. “You'll adjust."
She reached out and took hold of his horse's bridle, jerking him to a stop. “I 
can't keep them with me, Joseph. I can't even take care of myself at the 
moment."
“If you don't take them in,” he told her, “they'll end up in an orphanage. Is 
that what you want, Tess?"
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Don't try to pin this on me, Maguire. Those girls 
are your nieces, your responsibility, and if they wind up in an orphanage then 
it will beyour fault. They will never forgive you—and neither will I!"
“You're what they need."
“Youare what they need! Don't you understand that? No matter what you are or 
once were,you are their family."
“The town won't let me forget—"
“Youwon't let you forget! Who gives a damn what that town or half the world 
thinks? In the end, your opinion of yourself is the only one that matters! 
Forgive yourself, for God's sake—and to hell with the rest of them!"
Joseph looked away, his patience with her stubbornness in this matter growing 
thin. “I guess we have a problem, don't we?"
“Not if you'd own up to your responsibilities as your brother expected you to 
do."
He grit his teeth: Damn if she didn't cut right to the heart of a matter. “I 
promised my brother I'd do what was best for his children and that is exactly 
what I intend to do."
She gave him the fiercest look of disgust he'd ever seen, and then kicked her 
horse and rode off up the road.
Joseph knew he was pushing her to the end of her rope, but he couldn't afford to 
give in on this matter. He could understand her frustration with him, knowing 
that she just didn't understand. It wasn't that he wanted to leave his nieces. 
It was that he loved them too damn much to stay.
16
Joseph rode hard and fastthat second day, but Tess managed to follow as he 
trailed the Arkansas River west, deeper into the hills of what he called the 
Osage Plains. She was dusty and tired by the time they paused at the top of a 
weed-choked rise and looked down over the sprawling town of Dodge City, Kansas.
The sun was a huge golden ball hanging over the mountains, bathing the cow-town 
in the brilliant orange glow of sunset, and leaving Tess with the unsettling 
impression that she'd come to the edge of the world.
A sound rose up to her, faint but distinct: The unmistakable clamor of shouting 
and boisterous laughter, and she gave Joseph a questioning look.
“Stay close,” he reminded her softly.
She nodded, and watched as he took off his gun belt, tucked his pistol into his 
right boot, and then folded the belt up into his saddlebag.
“I want you in a hotel before dark,” he added.
He kicked his horse forward, and Tess watched him descend the hill. Well, she'd 
asked to come along, insisted, in fact, and certainly couldn't turn back now. 
She urged her mount forward and followed Joseph, toward the wildest city the 
west had ever known.
The tidy, orderly streets of a quiet community like Sweet Briar had done little 
to prepare Tess for the crowded, unkempt main drag of the infamous town of Dodge 
City. It was lined with tents and flimsy shacks that were interspersed with 
loud, raucous saloons and crowded brothels. Men of every breed packed the 
streets, some of them already so drunk they could barely stay on their feet.
The smell was outrageous, making Joseph's farm seem like a perfume factory in 
Paris. Piles of rotting garbage littered the wide, unpaved road, scattered 
mounds of animal dung were constantly being trodden on by unmindful people 
walking through. The odor of the men's bodies alone was enough to make Tess's 
eyes water whenever one wandered too close to her.
She leaned toward Joseph. “Where is this hotel you've been telling me so much 
about?"
“Dodge not as pretty as you expected?” A drunk man stumbled against his leg and 
Joseph shoved him away with his foot. “It gets even prettier after nightfall."
Tess spotted a fight breaking out in the doorway of a nearby saloon. “I can 
imagine.” She kept close to Joseph as they continued to ride slowly up the 
street.
“Hey, purty lady."
Tess looked down to find a scrawny, bewhiskered man walking along beside her. He 
had a tiny canvas bag in one hand and a half empty bottle of tequila in the 
other.
“I got the gold if'n you got the time,” he said loudly, grinning up at her.
Tess took a lesson from Joseph and pushed the man away with her foot. He let out 
a startled “Oof,” tripped over his own shoelace and fell sideways into the road. 
Tess continued onward, but stared back at the laughing man, wondering if he ever 
planned to get up—or if anybody would notice if he didn't.
She stole a quick glance at Joseph and found him sitting tall in the saddle, his 
eyes sharp and watchful, his expression grim and unapproachable. The very 
picture of fierceness.
Tess lifted her chin and joined him in his “dare-you-to-touch-me” stance. She 
wasn't sure what she'd do if somebody did dare to touch her, but she had to 
believe that Joseph would protect her. A risky guarantee at best.
She spotted a large white sign with red lettering and let out an audible sigh of 
relief as a large,clean -looking hotel came into view. “How about the Royal?” 
she said to Joseph.
“Amply named,” he replied. “Only a king can afford to stay there.” He pointed to 
a small two-story building across the street. “That one'll do."
Tess wrinkled her nose at the unsophisticated looking green structure that 
desperately needed a new coat of paint. “The Vagabond?"
“It's got soft beds, clean sheets, and sturdy locks on the doors.” He pulled up 
in front of the hotel's hitching post and swung down from his horse.
“Sounds like your second home, Maguire. Come to Dodge often, do you?"
He loosened the cinch on his saddle. “Can't beat the down-home atmosphere."
Tess glanced back for another look at the gauntlet she'd just traversed, the 
saloons and dance halls, and then swung down from her horse. “This place is a 
low-life's amusement park."
“A hard-workin’ man's heaven,” Joseph corrected. He was eyeing the brothel next 
door.
“You haven't been workingthat hard, Maguire."
He gave her a sideways look and hauled the saddlebags off her horse, tossing 
them over his shoulder along with his own. “A man's gotta take his pleasure 
where he can find it."
“It's nice to know you're so discriminating."
He stepped up beside her onto the boardwalk. “Lucky for you I'm not all that 
discriminating,” he said, giving her a direct look. “Or you'd still be sitting 
in that cell in Sweet Briar."
Tess clenched her teeth, resisting the urge to slug him. “And you'd have nobody 
to foist your nieces off onto,” she retorted.
The responding stare he gave her was so black, so dangerous, that Tess moved a 
step back from him.
“You best get yourself inside,” he told her.
Before what? she wondered. Before he strangled her with his bare hands? She gave 
him a final cautious glance and scooted past into the lobby of the Vagabond 
Hotel.
Joseph only rented one room, claiming one was all they'd need, and since he was 
now carrying all their money, Tess didn't exactly have the clout to argue with 
him.
He ordered her a bath, and she was grateful to him for that. At least she'd have 
a chance to clean up and relax a little before starting in on him again about 
leaving his nieces—and with her for crying out loud!
He sat in a chair with his back to her, looking out their second-story window, 
as she sat in a brass tub filled with hot water and scrubbed herself from head 
to toe.
The sun disappeared, leaving an already dangerous town pitched into inky 
blackness, and the noise level outside rose to a feverish pitch. But Tess and 
Joseph were locked safe and sound behind a sturdy oak door.
She splashed her face, and then slipped down into the soapy water to her chin. 
Joseph hadn't said two words to her since they'd settled into the room, and she 
wondered if his confrontation with Ulyss Coltrain was weighing heavily on his 
mind. Or maybe he was finally starting to consider her arguments about staying 
in Sweet Briar with his nieces?
“See anything interesting out there?” she asked.
His shoulders twitched beneath the material of his shirt. “'Pends on what you're 
after."
“You know: Blood, death, mayhem?"
“Peculiar things for a woman to be interested in."
She scrunched her chin and concentrated on dribbling water down her arm. “I 
guess I'm a peculiar woman."
He pivoted slowly in the chair to look back at her. “You're gonna be stew if you 
stay in there much longer."
She leaned back her head and stretched her feet out onto the far edge of the 
tub. “Stew or no stew, this is the cleanest I've felt in days."
His eyes were intent on the surface of the water and she wondered if the lit 
lamp on the dresser beside her was highlighting more than she cared to have him 
see. “It's thedirtiest I've felt,” he said.
“Then maybe you need this bath more than I do."
“Only if the water's cold."
“If you turn back around I'll get out,” she offered. He was getting too serious 
for her peace of mind.
“You've grown something new since this morning?"
Her face heated. He was right; he'd certainly seen all there was to see of her 
earlier that day. “I'm not interested in staging peep shows, Maguire."
He slipped out of his chair and knelt down beside the tub. “Then exactly what is 
it you're interested in?"
“Getting out of this town alive is sort of tops on my list at the moment."
He dipped his fingers into her bath water and began drawing them, warm and damp, 
up her arm. “How ‘bout we stick with what I'm interested in right now?"
She cleared her throat, feeling nervous as hell. “How about a towel?"
“Have you wondered about us?” he asked softly, his eyes gazing into hers.
“Wondered?” She was being drawn in by his intent stare, like a fish following a 
lure.
“Wondered what it would be like between us."
“You mean ... sexually?"
“That's right,” he said. “Us ... You and me together.” He slipped his hand below 
the surface of the water and her breath caught as his fingers grazed the side of 
her breast. “I think it'd be like nothin’ else,” he finished in a hoarse 
whisper.
Like nothing else? She couldn't speak—she couldn't breathe. She couldn't 
remember her name. Her heart was hammering so fast she thought it would explode. 
He flicked her nipple with his finger, sending a shock wave of sensations 
through her stomach. He leaned toward her, his mouth poised over hers, his hand 
skimming silkenly down her body, past her ribs, down her hip, across her 
stomach—
A sharp knock at the door sent Tess splashing and Joseph back on his heels. 
“What is it?” he hollered.
“It's the sheriff! Open up, Maguire!"
The sheriff? Tess thought frantically. As Joseph rose for the door she snatched 
her towel off the dresser, holding it out in front of her as she climbed from 
the tub. She was trembling, and she quickly dried herself, and then reached for 
her clothes.
“C'mon, Maguire,” came the deep voice from the hallway. “Open up."
“Hold it a goddamn minute,” Joseph called back.
He kept his back to Tess while she pulled on her jeans and shirt. “You 
finished?” he asked her.
She worked the last button on her pants. “Yes."
“Then get back against the wall there and let me do all the talkin'."
She did as she was told, wondering why the sheriff was knocking on their door, 
and how in the world he'd known that Joseph was even in town in the first place.
Joseph pulled open the door and standing there was a man in his mid-twenties, of 
average height. He was wearing a black tailored suit, complete with fobbed 
watch, and an English-style bowler hat with a high, curled brim. His neat 
mustache twitched as his attention lit on Joseph.
“I was wondering at your intentions in Dodge, Maguire,” he said. “You cookin’ up 
something I should know about?"
For crying out loud, Tess thought to herself. The man couldn't even ride into a 
town without being suspected of something?
“Just a little business between me and an old friend, Sheriff."
The sheriff's gaze skittered past Joseph and settled on Tess. He studied her for 
a moment and then tugged the brim of his squatty hat, “Ma'am.” Then he returned 
his attention to Joseph. “Got a gun?"
Joseph shook his head and Tess bit her tongue.
“Got a gun ordinance here, ya know. Any firearms are to be checked in the 
marshal's office."
“I understand,” Joseph replied.
The sheriff studied him for a moment longer and then nodded. “Got an all-night 
monte game startin’ up in a few minutes if you're interested."
“At the Long Branch?"
“That's right."
“Count me in."
The sheriff seemed extremely pleased with this response and smiled broadly. 
“Then we'll see ya in a few.” He tugged his hat at Tess a final time and left.
“What was that all about?” Tess asked once Joseph had shut the door.
“That was about a nervous sheriff who wants to keep a good eye on me while I'm 
in town.” He scooped her saddlebags up from the floor and pulled out the stacks 
of money Tess had brought from the bank in Sweet Briar. “Will you be all right 
for a few hours alone?” he asked.
“Alone? Wait a minute. You're not really going to that game, are you?"
“I have to."
“Or what!"
He gave her an impatient look. “Or they'll come lookin’ for me, Tess. It doesn't 
do to piss off the local authorities in this town. I'll only stay a little 
while. Just long enough to give the good sheriff some peace of mind."
She followed him to the dresser where he tucked the emptied saddlebags into a 
drawer. “You said it wasn't safe to go out after dark,” she reminded him.
“It isn't."
“But there's a gun ordinance in this town, Maguire. How dangerous could it 
really be if nobody's carrying a gun?"
He faced her. “Just like I'm not carrying a gun?"
“Then you said so yourself, it's too dangerous to leave the room. For either of 
us."
Without warning, he slipped his arm around her back and scooped her up close to 
him. “You best kiss me good-bye or you might regret it later."
Tess knew she wasn't going to be able to stop him from leaving, and the idea of 
him getting hurt made all the blood drain from her face. “Don't you get shot, 
Maguire—or ... or I'll come looking for you and kill you myself!"
“Shut up and kiss me, woman,” he whispered.
She slipped her arms around his neck and pulled his head to hers. The kiss was 
deep and hard, and he groaned, taking a grip on her backside and pulling her up 
tighter against him. Their tongues met and teased, until Tess thought she'd die 
with wanting him. And then he pulled away. Before Tess could say another word, 
he was heading for the door.
“Lock it,” he said on his way out, “and don't open it for anybody but me."
She locked the door behind him and then dropped down on the bed to stare at the 
knob for a while. A loud shout came from the street below the window and hot 
tears sprang to her eyes. She wasn't sure what she'd do if anything happened to 
the blasted man.
He'd been gone for well over three hours. Tess couldn't shake the image of him 
laid out bloody in the street, right beside that stupid drunk who hadn't had the 
sense to get up.
What would she tell Holly and Sissy?
She should have known better than to ever come to Dodge. She should have found 
Joseph and forced him to go back and enlist the help of Sheriff Wilson. Then she 
snorted. As if she could have ever forced Joseph Maguire to do a damn thing.
She covered her face with her hands and cursed the nineteenth century under her 
breath. “They're all animals, trudging around with guns, maiming and killing 
each other at will—"
Then she laughed, realizing she'd just described the twentieth century to a T. 
“Civilized” was a word bandied about like “food,” or “air,” but in reality 
mankind would never really achieve it.
She shook her head and looked up at the ceiling. “Joseph Maguire may not be a 
saint, but he sure the hell deserves better than to be gunned down in a filthy 
street for bumping elbows with the wrong man."
The clock on the night table struck midnight and Tess knew what she had to do. 
She stood and untied her shirt, letting the tails hang free down to her 
midthighs. Then she buttoned the front all the way to her chin and unrolled the 
cuffs to cover most of her hands. She pulled her hair back in a tight braid, and 
then put on Joseph's hat.
She slinked out of her hotel room and into a narrow hallway illuminated only by 
a few tiny candles resting on stands against the wall. They lit the floor just 
enough to see the nearby stairway.
She'd taken only a few steps when a man came bursting out of the room next door 
and crashed into her. “Watch it, sonny!” he shouted, laughing, and then darted 
back into his room.
Tess adjusted Joseph's big hat lower over her eyes, and took a deep breath. She 
descended the stairs slowly, one at a time, while smashing herself flat against 
the wall. She was relieved that the men traveling past her completely ignored 
her presence. But when she reached the lobby she was faced with a whole new 
dilemma. In the dark, dressed as she was, she was easily mistaken for a boy, but 
in the well-lit lobby of the Vagabond, she doubted she'd be that lucky. The desk 
clerk was bound to recognize her. What she needed was something bulkier to hide 
her thin body, something to—
Her prayers were answered by a coat rack resting just at the base of the stairs. 
There was a big, bulky buckskin jacket hanging there that she knew would reach 
past her knees.
She watched carefully from the shadows until the clerk was occupied with a 
customer, and then reached out and snatched the coat from the wooden arm it was 
hanging on. She grunted under the strain, not having planned on the damn coat 
being so heavy. She wrinkled her nose. The jacket looked like a dead animal and 
smelled even worse. Breathing tremulously, she pulled it on, fastened the metal 
buttons on the front, hiked up the stiff collar to cover her ears, and adjusted 
the bottom panel until she felt satisfied that she was adequately covered.
Then, taking a deep breath, she tucked her hands into the front pockets, 
directed her stare out the door, and started walking—fast.
“Hey!” the clerk called.
She froze. Then she buried her chin down into the collar and turned, slowly, to 
look back, imagining all the heinous things that were about to happen to her for 
wandering out of her room and then stealing some poor man's coat.
The clerk smiled at her. “Did you remember to bring along your room key, sir?"
Tess nodded curtly, and then spun around and darted from the hotel.
The street outside was a madhouse: Sleazy, half-dressed women crowded the 
boardwalks; fistfights were breaking out every other second; drunken men were 
stumbling around in the road or passing out against the outside walls of the 
buildings.
“Good God,” Tess whispered to herself. “It's Sunset Boulevard."
Unlike L.A., however, there were no streetlights to see by, only the glow of the 
stars and a pale crescent moon. Tess wasn't sure where to start looking for 
Joseph. She hadn't noticed a sign reading the Long Branch Saloon when the two of 
them had first ridden into town, and she doubted she was going to be able to 
spot it now—unless somebody invented the neon sign within the next few seconds 
and was kind enough to hang it for her.
She decided to take a chance on the local yokels, and turned to a woman standing 
in the shadows of a dimly-lit doorway. “Pardon me,” Tess said. “I'm looking for 
a Long Branch Sa—?"
Feathers bobbed, sickly sweet perfume wafted, and a husky voice meant to be 
seductive replied, “So am I, sweet thing. You got one for me?"
A shadowy hand reached out to her and Tess jumped back. “The saloon,” she 
explained. “I'm looking for the Long Branch Saloon."
“Why? When all the fun you need is right here, tied up in one neat,hot, 
package?"
“That's been unwrapped again and again and again,” Tess replied under her 
breath. “I'm interested in a card game,” she told the woman.
“What's in it for me, big guy?"
Tess rolled her eyes. “Tell ya what,sweet thing ,” she replied in a deepened 
voice. “You tell me where the Long Branch is, and I'll be sure to bring my 
winnings right back here."
The prostitute practically purred, and Tess found herself wondering if this was 
the kind of woman Joseph liked: Painted, smelly, and raw. “Five doors down,” the 
woman said. “The one with the big Injun statue guardin’ the door."
Tess turned to leave, but a hand fell onto her shoulder. “Don't forget me, now, 
sonny, ya hear? I'll show that little pecker a yours a reeeal good time."
Tess shuddered all the way to the next building.
By some miracle, she made it to the Long Branch saloon without being shot, 
stabbed, or bludgeoned. She peeked over the double swinging doors, and looked 
out over the long mahogany bar and the dozens of game tables scattered around 
the room. Then she saw a familiar back sitting at a table against the far wall.
Her relief that Joseph was alive and well was quickly squelched by a fury caused 
by the fact that he'd left her for hours to worry in that hotel room, and that 
she was now risking her life for absolutely no reason.
She opened her mouth to call out his name when a barrage of gunshots exploded in 
the air behind her. Out of pure instinct, she dove for cover behind the 
life-size wooden Indian.
People began running in every direction, trampling over each other to avoid 
being shot by the two men riding their horses recklessly in the street. A 
commotion sounded behind her, and Tess was knocked against the wall as a group 
of men, guns drawn, came charging from the Long Branch Saloon. As they hit the 
street, a man sitting on the edge of a roof nearby decided to join in on the 
fray and began firing his gun in the air as well. The sounds were deafening.
The group of men who'd come running from the saloon fired back at the two 
obviously drunken cowboys, and the ruffians sobered up quick enough to turn 
their horses toward the outskirts of town. One of the escaping cowboys was hit, 
however. He did a somersault with a half-twist out of his saddle and hit the 
ground hard.
Tess let out a gasp and poked her head out from behind the Indian to get a 
better look. A firm hand on her head pushed her back behind the Indian.
“Don't stick your nose out just yet, sonny. You're liable to get it shot off."
Tess recognized Joseph's voice immediately and slumped back against the wall. 
For the first time she considered what he might do if he found out she'd 
disobeyed him and left their room.
The group of armed men came back toward the saloon and Tess recognized the 
sheriff in the moonlight. “I think Ted got him,” he was saying.
“Naw,” one of the tall men with him said. “It was Pete. He's the only one to 
have shootin’ luck like that in the pitch a night."
They went back into the saloon, apparently, Tess assumed, to get back to their 
card game. “They aren't even going to check to see if he's dead or alive,” she 
whispered aloud.
“That's the doctor's job."
She froze at the sound of Joseph's voice. She had assumed that he had followed 
the sheriff and his men back inside the Long Branch.
“The doctor patches up the wounded.” He leaned closer to her, until she could 
feel his warm breath on her neck. “But you won't need to worry about that, Miss 
Harper, because when I'm through with you there'll be nothin’ left to fix."
17
Joseph couldn't believe his eyes. The person he'd first mistaken for a boy was 
none other than the woman he'd expressly ordered to stay put in their hotel 
room.
But why the hell was he so surprised? Tess Harper did exactly what she wanted, 
exactly when she wanted to do it. Only this time she was lucky her streak of 
stubbornness hadn't gotten her killed.
The buckskin jacket she was wearing smelled suspiciously like women and whiskey, 
and he resisted imagining where she might have gotten it from. She'd gone 
deathly still when he'd said her name, and the fact that she feared the 
ramifications of her little sojourn into the night gave him no small measure of 
satisfaction. She had every reason to be afraid.
“Maguire?” a deep voice called.
He looked up to see the assistant marshal of Dodge standing in the Long Branch 
doorway, a thin froth of beer glistening along the edges of his long mustache. 
“You in?” the lawman asked.
Joseph had been a bit wary when he'd arrived earlier and seen two lawmen and a 
noted gunfighter sitting around a table waiting for him like three cats 
anticipating the arrival of a mouse. But the card game had gone on amiably, 
enjoyably in fact, and had kept him longer than he'd intended to stay.
Now, with Tess standing so close, mucking up his mind once again, he knew it was 
pointless to stay any longer. She'd been a fool to wander outside of their room, 
and he would be an even bigger fool to let her wander back alone.
“A matter's come up,” he told the man. “I'd appreciate it if you'd thank the 
others for their hospitality."
The lawman took one keen look at Tess and nodded. “Those eyes of hers are a dead 
giveaway. Could use a little work in therear end department, too."
Tess, who up to that point had been huddled behind the wooden Indian, 
straightened instantly. Joseph knew what was coming and closed his eyes.
“I wouldn't be offering any advice on appearance if I were you, fur-face!” she 
snapped. “I've seen better mustaches on walruses!"
When Joseph opened his eyes, the assistant marshal's expression had gone as 
blank as a half-penny check. “Interesting mouth she's got there,” the lawman 
said in a low voice. “Oughta plug it up with something before it gets you 
killed, Maguire."
“The lady has a definite way with words.” Joseph clamped his hand around Tess's 
upper arm and began hauling her back to the hotel.
"Fur-face?"he said tightly. “Why didn't ya just kick him in the balls?"
She paused on the boardwalk and actually had the nerve to fight him. “I would 
have if he hadn't been standing on the other side of that door!"
He wanted to strangle her. Hell, he wanted to sling her over his shoulder like a 
sack of potatoes and dump her in the nearest horse trough!
Instead, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and wedged her squirming body 
up against his side. “Don't be an idiot,” he whispered as she tried to stamp on 
his foot. “Or would you rather I left you to the riffraff roaming the street?"
She quieted, and began to walk willingly, but stiffly, beside him. They entered 
the lobby of the Vagabond and almost fell over a man and woman who were necking 
at the foot of the stairs. Joseph plowed forward and the couple quickly moved 
aside so he could pull Tess up the steps to the second floor.
When they entered their room, he slammed the door shut and locked it, throwing 
the key into the corner. Then he followed Tess to the bed. “What the hell did 
you think you were doing!"
She blanched, leaning back against the spiraled post.
“Do you have any idea how lucky you are that you survived not only the walk to 
the Long Branch, but that damnhurrah you sashayed into the middle of?"
“Stop yelling at me,” she said tightly.
Not for all the tea in China, Joseph thought furiously. He'd been working up 
this head of steam since day one with little Miss Contrary, here, and he'd be 
damned if he wasn't going to get it all out of his system once and for all!
He grabbed hold of the smelly buckskin coat she was wearing and wrenched it off 
her. “Do youever use that sack of air above your shoulders you mistakenly call a 
brain?” he went on, flinging the coat onto the dresser. “Have you ever listened 
to a single thing someone else has told you to do? Is there one God damn 
smidgeon of sense in you, woman?"
“Stop it!” she shouted. “Stop yelling at me this instant!” She came at him with 
her fists clenched. “Who the hell do you think you are, telling me what to do? I 
don't have to listen to you! And Idid stay here like you told me to! But when 
you didn't come back I thought something had happened!"
“Oh, please. You just couldn't stand the idea of doing what you were told!"
Someone in the next room pounded on the wall, and a deep, muffled voice shouted 
for them to be quiet. Tess set her hands against Joseph's chest and tried to 
shove him away. Why was it that whenever the two of them argued she always 
seemed to find it necessary to match physical strengths with him?
Joseph barely felt her effort, but he did retaliate with a faint push of his own 
that jostled her off balance and sent her careening back onto the bed.
She lay there panting and he pointed a rigid finger at her. “I told you to stay 
in the room. Did you think I said that for my own good health?"
She scrambled to her knees. “You sound like an old woman, Maguire.” She threw a 
pillow at his head, which he deflected with his forearm. “And Iwould have stayed 
put if you'd been back in an hour like you promised!"
“So you got a little bored and thought you'd go sightseeing? Thought you'd check 
out the local scenery!"
“I thought something had happened to you.” She leaned forward on her knees and 
shouted, “I Was Worried!"
Joseph fell silent. Damn if she didn't seem sincere in that claim. He frowned at 
her. The wall pounded again and the muffled voice from the next room 
shouted,"She was worried, already!"
Joseph shook his head. What possible reason could she have to concern herself 
about him? It was just an excuse for disobeying his direct order.
“I should have tied you to that bed,” he muttered.
Her blue eyes narrowed. “And you would have regretted it severely."
Holding her stare, he leaned over her. “It could have been your limp, lifeless 
body I dragged back to this room tonight, Miss Harper. I have a feelingyou would 
have regrettedthat ."
“And it would have been all your fault, Maguire. Your fault for staying out late 
to play with your friends and leaving me here to worry myself sick!"
Joseph frowned at her again, baffled by her continued insistence that she'd 
fretted over him while he'd been gone. “I can take care of myself,” he responded 
gruffly.
“Yeah? So could Jimmy Hoffa,” she countered.
Hoffa? She'd said the name as if he should recognize it, but he'd never heard of 
the man.
Slowly but surely his anger was beginning to fizzle. Before he'd left, he'd told 
her he'd be back in an hour, but he hadn't watched the clock, thinking she 
wouldn't notice if he'd stayed out all night long, would probably welcome it, in 
fact.
But she had noticed, quite vigorously it seemed, and that left Joseph wondering 
all kinds of interesting things.
He crossed his arms and stared down at her. “This Hoffa fella ... He get himself 
inta trouble after leavin’ you alone in a hotel room all night?"
“I waited until he fell asleep and then glued his nostrils shut."
Joseph broke into laughter. Actually, he didn't put something like that past 
her. “Could I get by with just a spanking this time?"
“You can get by with just a promise that you'll never scare me like that again. 
I don't know what I would have done if you'd—"
He noticed that she'd cut herself off just when her response had been getting 
interesting. Her chin went up again in that normal stubborn stance of hers and 
she looked at him unflinchingly.
“Just promise, Maguire."
Lord help him, it seemed she really had been afraid for him, and the realization 
left him stunned. It meant she cared.
He bent down to the bed and braced himself on his hands. “I promise ... And now 
what do you owe me for leaving this room when I told you not to?"
She rolled her eyes at him. “I'm not some child you can punish on a whim."
His attention lowered to where her nipples were pressing against the front of 
her thin white shirt, and he felt himself go hard. No, she was definitely not a 
child. “A kiss,” he whispered, knowing that if she turned him down he'd damn 
well take what he wanted.
She gave him a startled look and then turned her face away. “I'm not interested 
in forgiving you that quickly."
He lowered himself down next to her on the bed. “Then permit me to make my 
apology more clear."
Tess scooted back against the headboard, resisting the urge to fall into 
Joseph's arms and melt against him like an ice cube on a steamy summer day. 
“Exactly what are you intending?” she asked him.
He smiled crookedly and her. “What I'm intending, Miss Harper, is to take those 
damn pants off your shapely little bottom and find a tiny slice of heaven in 
your arms.” He crawled over her and stopped. “You wouldn't be interested in 
somethin’ like that, now, would you?"
That exact scenario was all Tess had thought about for days. Just the slightest 
glance from him was enough to send her pulse racing. “Wh-what about our contest 
of self-restraint?"
He broke into gentle laughter. “You lost that fight earlier tonight when you 
practically ate my tongue kissing me good-bye."
“I did not lose!” she shouted. “Youasked me to kiss you! And look at you now, 
climbing all over me like a bull in rut. It's laughable how unrestrained you 
are!"
He straddled her thighs and considered her while playing with the top button on 
her shirt. “You know, the way I figure it, lady, I'll be losin’ at the same time 
I'm winnin'.” His gaze collided with hers. “Sounds like a fair enough trade to 
me."
She arched a brow, trying to ignore the rapid pattering of her heart. “So you're 
willing to lose intentionally?"
The playful glint in his eyes turned serious. “Why am I beginning to get the 
impression that you plan to demand a colossal prize?"
“Is that apprehension I hear in your voice, Maguire?” He reached out as if to 
straighten the collar on her shirt but his fingers went on a warm, lazy path 
along her cheek and up to her ear.
“Maybe we should call it a draw and get down to business,” he said.
Tess's own desire was beginning to thrum loudly in her ears, but Holly's and 
Sissy's futures, not to mention her own, were far too important to be thrown 
away in a brief moment of unbridled lust. She gave him an adamant shake of her 
head.
Joseph sighed and began carefully undoing the buttons on the front of her shirt. 
“Stubborn and irresistible,” he whispered. “Just my luck."
“That's not to say your offer isn't tempting,” she admitted breathlessly, 
realizing they were both acting as though he wasn't calmly taking off her shirt.
He was still staring deeply into her eyes, and she could feel her palms 
beginning to dampen. “That's very kind of you to say,” he muttered.
“Don't mention it,” she whispered. She arched her back so he could slip the 
shirt from her arms and toss it to the floor.
His gaze left her face and traveled a hot trail over her bare breasts. “Cold?” 
he asked.
“Not at all,” she replied before thinking.
His slow smile was enough to bring a blush racing up her neck. He came toward 
her, his eyes hooded, his expression intent, and she held her breath. “I lose,” 
he stated, his voice nothing but a rasp in a room shimmering with tension.
Tess leaned up to his waiting lips and whispered, “I'll be sure to make it worth 
your while."
With a low groan, his mouth came crashing down over hers. Tess wound her arms 
around his neck and pulled him closer. She lurched upward as his hands slipped 
around her back, and he pressed his tongue deeply into her mouth. She wanted him 
to touch her everywhere at the same time, with his hands, his mouth, until there 
wasn't a single inch of her body he didn't know.
When he bent his head and took one swollen nipple into his mouth, his tongue hot 
and rough, she let out a sharp cry of need and moved her hands down to hook her 
fingers into the belt loops of his jeans. She was prepared to hold on for dear 
life.
They both tugged off his shirt, and it went the way of her own, in a pile on the 
floor. His broad, tanned back was there for her to enjoy and she ran her 
fingernails along the curve of his spine, feeling the textures of the tight 
muscles. He let out a deep contented sound and curled into her.
“You're a witch, Tess,” he whispered. “A witch I want so bad I could die."
She nibbled the edge of his jaw as his deft fingers worked the buttons on her 
pants, until they joined the rest of their clothing. Then he ran a callused hand 
down the smooth skin of her ribs, into the valley of her waist, over the mound 
of her hip, and down the curve of her thigh. When he parted the crisp hair 
between her legs, giving her a smooth stroke with his broad finger, she pushed 
back into the pillow beneath her head and moaned his name. His finger slipped 
deep inside and she lost all sense of the tangible world around her.
She was turning to jelly in his hands. He was making love to her breasts while 
building a gigantic wave of sensations deep within that couldn't help but 
devastate once it came crashing back to shore.
But she didn't stop him. In fact, she anticipated the fall, hoped for it, prayed 
for it, until she was practically weeping from the fleeting fear that it might 
not occur.
He kissed her belly and called her name, a soft caress in the silent room. He 
moved lower, and she could feel him posing himself between her thighs. She held 
her breath, feeling the first faint tremors of ecstasy as he tasted her.
That one erotic sensation was all it took. The wave came crashing over the 
rocks, pounding at Tess's body in great throbbing surges that made her shout 
with rapture and moan with exquisite pain. It was more than she'd ever known. 
More than she'd ever imagined.
He moved over her, whispering her name, telling her how much she pleased him, 
and she parted her thighs to cradle his weight. He kissed her then and slipped 
himself inside.
Tess gasped, feeling how very large he was, and suddenly growing afraid of 
everything she was feeling: the tenderness, the passion, the incredible grace.
He must have felt her go tense. As his broad, hard body fitted over her small 
one he whispered, “Don't be afraid, Tess. Just let me love you for a while."
He eased out of her then and quickly slipped back inside, stroking her from 
within, deep and strong, making the breath float from her lungs on a passionate 
sigh.
Her body adjusted to the size of him, stretched as if it had been made for his 
since the dawn of time, and he reached down to guide her legs around his hips. 
The deeper penetration made them both groan with pleasure.
He began to thrust hard and steady, bringing her back to the point of no return. 
She felt herself cresting and begged him to join her this time as the first 
faint tremors brought her perilously near the edge.
Joseph let himself go and stiffened above her. She stared at him in wonder. Then 
the tide broke over them both, a rhythm older than time itself, sending them 
surging together and arching apart, until they finally lay replete in each 
other's arms.
Minutes later, she whispered his name, wondering if he'd felt the magic between 
them or if she'd only just imagined it.
He pulled her closer, curving her into his warm body, and brushed his lips 
across her forehead. “Go to sleep, Tess,” he said softly to her. “Tomorrow's 
soon enough to start worryin’ again."
18
Tess was slowly working her wayinto his heart. She was soft and warm in Joseph's 
arms, a perfect fit, and he was beginning to wonder how he'd ever be able to let 
her go in the end. But her place was with Holly and Sissy.
She moaned in her sleep, whispered something strange about a “trusty little 
car,” and then burrowed her face against his chest. She was an amazing woman; 
had more intelligence than most men he'd known, and more guts then all of them 
put together. He just wished he could stick around long enough to see where it 
all got her in life.
“Joseph?” she whispered, groggily.
“Hmmm?” He brushed the hair from her blue eyes and smoothed his fingers over her 
cheek.
“Is it morning yet?"
“Not yet."
She frowned. “Then why aren't you asleep?"
He smiled and bent to place a lingering kiss in the crook of her neck. “Maybe I 
was hoping for an encore."
She laughed huskily as he cupped her bare bottom and pressed her against his 
erection. “How long have you had this problem?” she asked.
“'Bout an hour.” He ran his tongue along the silken ridge of her shoulder.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she answered, and then let out a soft gasp as his 
tongue entered her ear.
He slipped his hand between her thighs and lifted one of her long, sleek legs 
over his hip. “That's all right,” he whispered back. “You'll make it up to me."
With a slow, easy motion, he pressed his hips forward, arching, and slipped into 
her tight slickness. She groaned, clamping her leg around him, pulling him in 
further, body and soul.
They kissed, long and deep, and he wished he could lie there beside her forever, 
enveloped in her sweetness. But, despite the passion, the amazing heat between 
them, a future for them could never be.
“I didn't know it could be like this, Joseph,” she whispered, gasping as he 
continued his slow, steady rhythm.
He'd never known it could be like this either. And now he was going to have to 
give it all up, give her up. Three long years he'd spent in prison for robbing 
that bank, and he was only now just beginning to pay the real price.
He made love to Tess until the small hours of the morning, whispering and 
touching her in the darkness, until she once again fell asleep in his arms. But 
he lay awake, watching her, memorizing each angle of her beautiful face.
When Tess opened her eyes in the morning Joseph was gone. She told herself not 
to panic, not to think the worst, but what would pull him from bed so early 
after they'd spent the entire night making love?
The usual muffled shouts and curses came from the street below and she sat up in 
the bed to clear the sleep from her mind. She was being silly. For all she knew, 
Joseph could be off using the outhouse.
The sharp crack of a gunshot echoed from beyond the window and she let out a 
startled cry.
“Damn it,” she muttered. “He promised me he wouldn't do this again!"
What if he wasn't out seeing to his basic needs? What if he'd made passionate 
love to her all night so she'd pass out from exhaustion and give him a prime 
opportunity to sneak out of town?
Cursing, she threw aside the covers, climbed out of bed, and checked under the 
soft feather mattress. The money was still there, but she knew that didn't mean 
a thing. Joseph hadn't wanted to give it to Ulyss in the first place.
She pulled on the clothes that had been so passionately stripped from her the 
night before: She was going to have to go out looking for the damn man again. 
This was not the way she usually liked to start her mornings.
Tess went down to the hotel lobby. Men stopped to stare, some even had the nerve 
to throw out a few lewd offers, but she ignored them all and strode out to the 
street.
The sun was shining brightly, marking the beginning of another hot Kansas day, 
and Joseph was nowhere in sight. She pursed her lips and stared off in the only 
direction she recognized, the way of Dodge City's Long Branch Saloon. She was 
unwilling to consider that he might have ridden off for Arizona hours before—the 
very idea of him slinking out of her life so easily made her heart squeeze. He 
had to be somewhere in town.
The boardwalk leading to the Long Branch wasn't quite as crowded with drunks as 
it had been the night before. The prostitutes had all gone inside, probably to 
sleep off the frivolity of the evening before, and the dance halls were all 
deserted and quiet. Tess kept her eyes open though, and didn't relax until she'd 
reached the tall wooden Indian outside the Long Branch's swinging doors.
“Well, hello there, little missy."
Tess had run smack dab into a wall. A human wall, with a width to match his 
height, and a smell to match King Kong's. She stared longingly at the doors of 
the Long Branch, knowing she'd been so close, and that she'd have to get past 
The Incredible Hulk, here, to get safely inside. “Where are you goink in such a 
hurry?” he asked with a heavy European accent.
Tess took a deep breath and decided to try sweetness for a change. Maybe the 
mammoth would take pity on her pathetic innocence and let her go on her way. “I 
was lookin’ for my brother big Jim,” she replied. “You haven't seen him, have 
ya? He's about two feet taller than you and carries a really long knife."
The man laughed, moving dangerously closer to her, and Tess realized that 
sweetness wasn't going to cut it with this particular guy.
“Listen, buffalo man!” she shouted up into his face. “You best get your hefty 
self out of my way, before I call the twinkie police and tell them we have a 
major violator!"
The man's bushy brows dropped into a frown, and the next thing Tess knew, she 
had a rawhide whip wrapped around her chest and was being dragged toward a wagon 
parked in the street. So much for her confidence, which did little good when a 
person was being led about by someone who could eat that person's weight in 
food.
She was yanked to stop beside a pair of large black oxen. The whip was removed. 
Then the man pulled off his shirt, and Tess was treated to the oddest display 
she'd ever seen. He posed every way he could, to show her every muscle he could, 
grunting and smiling all the while. She nodded a lot, acted impressed a lot, 
hoping that when he was finished she could toss him a cookie and he'd let her 
go.
It wasn't going to be that easy however. Another burly man, with another burly 
whip, came strolling up and smacked Tess's muscle bound hero on the arm—hard.
“Whatcha got there, Beevo?"
“A woman,” Beevo answered, thickly. “She says I am hefty and twinkly.” He winked 
at the other man. “Thought I would give her a look at my other attributes."
“What's ‘twinkly'?” the other man asked.
“I am not sure.” Beevo smiled. “But it makes me a major violator."
The other man snorted and reached for Tess. “She's an American, Beevo my friend. 
How many times I got ta tell ya, ya need ta stick with yer own kind?"
Beevo reacted quickly, knocking the other man's hand away and stepping in front 
of Tess. “I saw her first, Richards,” he warned.
“And that's the only glimpse yer gonna get,” the other man responded, squaring 
off.
Tess didn't have the time to watch, nor was she interested in a contest with her 
as the prize. “Boys—” Beevo slammed her back against the wagon with an 
unintentional thrust of his elbow, knocking the wind from her lungs and the 
words from her throat in a sharp gasp of air.
The next thing Tess knew the two men were drawing guns from their boots and 
firing, standing not three feet apart.
She covered her head with her arms and ducked down beside the wagon and oxen, 
holding her breath as the air filled with whizzing bullets. She heard someone 
screaming, and then realized it was her.
Seconds, that seemed like hours, later the gunfight was over, and Tess opened 
her eyes into a stinging cloud of acrid black smoke. She coughed, watching as 
the two huge men, amazingly uninjured, were walked off toward the jail down the 
street. And then a familiar pair of green eyes was staring at her through the 
smoke, narrowing on her.
She smiled hesitantly. But nothing could have softened the dark scowl on Joseph 
Maguire's grim face.
He took her by the arm and hauled her along beside him as he strode back toward 
their hotel. Well, she told herself as she stumbled along, trying to keep up 
with his pace, at least she knew he hadn't left town.
The lobby clerk barely looked up when Joseph pulled her past the front desk for 
the stairs. When they reached their room, the door was thrown open and Tess was 
tossed toward the bed. “Thatwas where I left you when I went for breakfast!” he 
bellowed, slamming the door behind him. “Andthat was where I expected to find 
you when I got back!"
Good Lord, she thought in a panic. He'd only gone for breakfast? “Are we going 
to go through all of this again, Maguire?” she asked, trying to cover up her 
anxiety with a show of impatience. The fury in his eyes had her just a little 
worried. “I woke up and you were gone. End of story."
He went rigid in front of her, his jaw clenched so tight she wondered if he'd 
have any teeth left.
“Come on, Maguire. I'm here. You're here. No harm done."
He studied her for a long furious moment, and then strode forward and took her 
by the arm again. “It's not gonna be that simple this time, lady."
She didn't have a chance to ask him where he was taking her as he pulled her 
back out of the room, down the stairs and through the lobby. The sun blinded her 
as they hit the boardwalk at a fast pace, and she noticed she was being taken in 
the direction opposite the Long Branch Saloon.
“Where are we going?” she finally demanded.
“To the only place I know that can hold you.” When they stopped in front of the 
Dodge City jail Tess gave him a cautious look. He wouldn't dare. Would he?
She began to struggle against the hand clamped around her wrist. “Let me go, 
Maguire! You're not putting me back in jail!"
He pulled her up tight against him and entered the front office. The assistant 
marshal with the handlebar mustache was sitting behind the desk, and sat up at 
attention when they entered.
“Got a problem there, Maguire?” he asked.
“The lady tried to steal my wallet,” Joseph said.
“That's a lie!” Tess cried.
“Give her some food, would ya? And keep her overnight as a proper lesson for her 
wicked ways."
The lawman stood to retrieve his keys from the nail on the wall above his head 
and Tess was too shocked to move. “What are you doing?” she asked Joseph 
breathlessly.
He looked at her, and all at once his expression softened. “Saving your fool 
neck,” he replied. “I have no intention of taking you with me to the mine, Tess. 
And I have no doubt that you would try to follow."
“Only because—"
“Because I'll ride off for Arizona when I'm finished. I'm doing it for them, 
Tess, don't you understand that? Things will go easier for them without me 
around."
“No!” she shouted as he turned for the door. She tried to go after him but the 
assistant marshal took her by the arm and held her back. “You can't leave, 
Joseph!” she cried frantically. “Holly and Sissy need you! What about the 
contest? I won! And I say you have to stay with your nieces!"
“I'll never forget you, Tess Harper,” he said, his eyes glittering brilliant 
green. “Don't try too hard to forget me."
“They need yooou!” Tess screamed as the door closed behind him. And then he was 
gone.
Tears slipped from her eyes as she stared expectantly at the door, refusing to 
believe that Joseph would leave her just like that. The deputy tried to lead her 
back to a cell, but she threw off his hands.
Seconds passed, long painful seconds, as she stared at the door, but Joseph 
didn't return. He'd left, and she felt as if her whole world was crashing down 
around her feet. “I need you, Joseph,” she finally whispered. “I need you too."
19
Tess valued her life too muchto consume the slop that was given to her to eat 
that day. Her stomach was so upset, she doubted she could keep a decent meal 
down anyway.
Joseph had left her. He'd made love to her like a man possessed and then tossed 
her in a cell and walked away. She couldn't believe it. But the metal cage 
surrounding her kept her mind planted firmly in reality. He was gone, and he 
wasn't coming back.
Damn the man. Maybe Holly and Sissywere better off without him. Maybe they would 
have happier childhoods if they weren't raised by someone so unreasonable and 
unreliable as their Uncle Joseph. Maybe they'd all be better off if she just 
left them with Doc Nathan and his wife.
She was being kept in a cell beside the two men who had practically killed each 
other over her that morning, but neither one seemed particularly interested in 
speaking with her or with each other. Tess was just fine with that, though. She 
considered it their fault that she was in this predicament in the first place. 
If the big jerks had left her alone that morning, instead of vying for her 
attentions in such a ridiculous manner, she'd probably still be at Joseph's 
side—or at least close enough to be keeping an eye on him.
She got furious every time she realized how hopeless her situation was. She was 
stuck in this damn cell until morning, and by then Joseph could be anywhere.
When she caught Beevo staring at her again, her nerves finally snapped. “This is 
all your fault, you know,” she said, practically steaming with anger.
His expression was somber. “I am sorry if my foolish actions have caused you 
grievance, dear lady,” he said in a monotone, accented voice. “You are very 
pretty, and I am a giant loaf."
She stared at him for a moment before realizing what he'd meant. “You are a 
giant oaf."
“Yes, that. Your man seemed very angry with you."
“He isn't my man,” she responded. But he had been for a few glorious hours the 
night before.
“Will he come back for you?"
“I highly doubt it."
“Then he is a fool."
She wanted to think that was true, and almost believed it as Beevo continued to 
look at her steadily. Then he broke into a wide grin. “Is he as twinkly as me?"
Despite her irritation, Tess's lips twitched.
“Hey, lady,” the lawman sitting at the desk up front called. “You need ta use 
the outhouse?"
“No, I don't need to use the outhouse,” she snapped. “What I need is to be let 
out of here. How in thehell did I get myself in this situation again?” she 
grumbled to herself.
“'Pears ya exasperated yer man,” the lawman called back.
“Joseph Maguire is not my man!” she shouted. “And for your information, I didn't 
touch his wallet!"
The assistant marshal shrugged. “Don't matter none ta me. Yer in there till 
mornin'."
Tess gritted her teeth, realizing she wasn't going to be getting any sympathy 
from her jailer. She glanced back at Beevo, who was snuggling down into his cot 
in the other cell. “'Night, pretty lady,” he said softly.
“Goodnight, Beevo,” she responded without thinking. Seconds later the jail was 
filled with the snores of two huge men.
Tess looked over at the barred window to her right. Darkness was falling over 
Dodge City once again. Crickets were beginning to chirp, and the sounds of men 
indulging in typical Dodge City activities were beginning to roar up and down 
the streets.
She sat back on her cot, leaning against the masonry wall behind her and managed 
to hold in a sudden bout of tears. She'd failed. She hadn't been able to keep 
Joseph from leaving Holly and Sissy and now they would be raised by strangers 
and she would never be going home.
“It wasn't my fault,” she whispered into the dimming light of the cell. “I did 
everything I could. Everything I could.” And she'd only ended up right back 
where she'd started: in a ten by six cell. “Please, someone get me out of here,” 
she whispered.
Suddenly, the door to the front office burst open, and the sheriff came barging 
in with two half-conscious men in tow. “Got a fight bubblin’ out in front of 
Molly Kay's, Jim! Take yer club and see how many you can bring in—” The sheriff 
stopped short. “What in the hell's that woman doing back there?"
Jim was on his feet. “Joseph Maguire brought her in this morning. Said he caught 
her tryin’ ta steal his wallet—"
“Ah, get her outta here,” the sheriff said with disgust. “This ain't some 
halfway house for wayward lovers. Make some room for the twenty or so men we got 
comin’ in."
Amazed at her luck, Tess stood at her cell door and waited for the assistant 
marshal to let her out. Once free, she thanked the sheriff, left the office, and 
rushed straight for the Vagabond Hotel. When she discovered that the room was 
still being rented in Joseph's name, she couldn't climb the stairs to the second 
floor fast enough.
Upstairs, she threw open the door and her heart dropped. In a tiny place in the 
back of her mind she'd been hoping to find Joseph sitting on the bed, waiting 
for her. But the room was empty.
She dropped down into the small wooden chair in front of the window and let 
herself sink into a brief moment of self-pity, not sure what to do now. She had 
no friends. No family. No money—
Suddenly she lunged up from the chair and fell to her knees beside the bed. She 
closed her eyes, said a silent prayer, and slipped her hand beneath the 
mattress. When she pulled back, she had a wad of twenty-dollar bills clutched in 
her fingers.
Astounded, she shoved the mattress aside and scooped up every dollar she'd 
brought with her in her saddlebags the day before. Joseph hadn't taken a cent 
with him. She had all the money she needed. Enough to feed herself. Enough to 
get her safely back to Sweet Briar. Enough to—
She paused and sat back on her heels, realizing the ramifications of what she'd 
discovered. The money was still here. And that could only mean one thing: Joseph 
was going to kill Ulyss Coltrain.
Joseph hobbled his horse just below Sheer Rock Mountain, and started to climb. 
The sun was low in the sky, casting deep shadows over the landscape, over the 
scrub and loose rock, but he kept his footing and safely reached the top.
He spotted the campfire immediately, a glow of orange in the distance, and 
unholstered his gun. Ulyss Coltrain had cost him everything in life that was 
dear, and damned if the man wasn't going to pay.
It was easy enough to sneak up on Ulyss—he'd never been good on watch. Joseph 
set the barrel of his pistol up against the side of the man's neck and cocked 
the hammer. “Evenin', Ulyss."
Ulyss stopped cold, and then slowly set down his tin cup of coffee. “Evenin', 
Joseph. Should known you'd pull somethin’ like this."
“Really? I'd say it's more your style than mine. Take the gun out of your 
holster and hand it back to me, butt first."
Ulyss snorted. “Come on now, Joseph. We both know you ain't gonna shoot me—"
Joseph took a handful of Ulyss's greasy dark hair and wrenched his head back, 
shoving his gun harder into the soft flesh of his neck. “Do it,” he gritted out.
“Damn! All right, all right!” Ulyss slowly eased his gun out of its holster, 
flipped it until he was holding the barrel, and then handed it back over his 
shoulder. “This ain't gonna do much but getcha inta more trouble, Joseph. You 
ain't gonna shoot me."
Joseph stuck the man's gun into his own empty holster. “Don't count on that. Now 
stand up."
It wasn't until Ulyss stood and turned that Joseph saw the twisted smile on his 
face. Once he did, he wanted to pummel the man to a bloody pulp.
“You ain't got it in ya, Joseph. I was there, remember? You hesitated over that 
guard. That's how come we didn't get clean away. ‘Cause you couldn't kill him."
“He'd done everything we'd asked him."
Ulyss snorted. “But he was a loose end, Joseph. Kinda like you are for me,” he 
added, smiling.
“You always were a son of a bitch, Ulyss."
“Ah, but that's what you liked about me. Always pulling you inta one scrap after 
a next. It was excitin'!"
“It was stupid. And we're both lucky to be alive."
Ulyss looked at the ground and shook his head. “You always were too sensible. 
Listened too close to that righteous brother a yours instead a doin’ what I told 
ya. We could be rich men now, Joseph. Livin’ high on the hog with wine and women 
at our beck and call. But when you let that guard live, you threw it all away!"
“No, Ulyss! I threw it all away when I joined up with the likes of you! Matthew 
kept tellin’ me you'd bring nothin’ but trouble, that a man like you with 
nothin’ to his name was bound to get into more messes than he knew what to do 
with.” Joseph smiled cynically. “And you know when I realized he was right? The 
moment you told me to shoot that guard. What a time for a rehabilitation, eh, 
Ulyss? When the money bags are in my hand and I'm headin’ for the door."
“It woulda all been worth it—"
“Worth killing a man for? We weren't prospectin’ for gold, Ulyss, we were 
robbin’ a bank! If I'd killed that guard we would have hanged!"
“If you'd killed him we woulda never gotten caught,” Ulyss said tightly.
“And maybe that would have been the worst thing that could've happened."
Ulyss clenched his jaw and raised his hand to point a rigid finger at Joseph. “I 
spent four long years in that stinkin’ prison before finally escapin'. I want my 
money, damn it!"
“Your moneyis back in the bank where it belongs."
“I trusted you. When we decided ta split up I trusted you to hide it!"
Joseph smiled. “A pretty iffy thing, trustin’ an outlaw."
Ulyss lunged at him, but Joseph raised the gun, reminding the man of its 
presence. Ulyss stopped cold, and then broke inta laughter. “You couldn't even 
shoot a perfect stranger, boy. There ain't no way in hell you could look me in 
the eye and pull that trigger. You just don't have it in ya. You can't shoot a 
man in cold blood."
The statement had been meant as a taunt, and something Tess had said came 
drifting back to Joseph.In the end, your opinion of yourself is the only one 
that matters . His hand tightened around the pistol. What would his opinion be 
of himself if he killed this unarmed man? Despite all the rumors, Joseph Maguire 
wasn't a killer, and no amount of belief on anyone's part was going to make him 
into one. Damn if it wasn't high time he started realizing that fact.
“Where's your horse, Ulyss? I'm takin’ you in."
The last thing he expected was for Ulyss to make a break for it in the dark. The 
campfire illuminated the tall man's form as he darted for the mine entrance and 
disappeared inside.
Joseph chased after him, knowing Holly and Sissy would be looking over their 
shoulders for the rest of their lives if the man got away. He charged into the 
mine entrance and stopped short. Thick, cloying darkness reached out and stole 
away his sight. “Ulyss, don't make this harder than it has to be!” he shouted. 
His own voice echoed back to him. “You know I can't let you go free!"
Maniacal laughter floated back to him. “Give it your best shot, Joseph!"
He strode further into the yawning black chasm and almost fell on his face when 
his foot connected with the mining car trestle. He walked a few careful steps 
further before realizing that he'd never find Ulyss in the dark. His best bet 
was to wait at the entrance until the man decided to come out. He would have to 
eventually.
When he turned to leave, a weight greater than his own slammed into his back. He 
fell, face first, onto the rocky ground, landing hard over the metal trestle 
which forced the air from his lungs.
He scrambled to hang onto the gun, but dropped it in the end. He brought his 
elbow back sharply into Ulyss's midsection, and then slammed his fist back into 
his face. He was fighting an unseen enemy, relying on his wits to know where to 
strike.
Joseph managed to get on top of the bigger man, and bring his forearm firmly 
against his throat. Ulyss made a strangling sound, but Joseph took a deep breath 
and pressed all his weight down. He might not kill men in cold blood, but he'd 
damn sure defend his own life.
He froze when he heard the hammer on the gun click. The cold sting of metal 
pressed against the side of his face and he let up on the pressure of his arm.
“Looks like I win, Joseph old pal,” Ulyss said softly.
With death staring him in the face, Joseph thought of Tess, the way her blue 
eyes lit up when she laughed. If only they'd had a chance, but he'd thrown it 
all away four years before without even realizing it.
God damn it, he'd live to see her again!
With a sudden burst of speed, Joseph rolled to the side and brought himself up 
tight against the mine's damp wall: What Ulyss couldn't see, Ulyss couldn't 
shoot.
Ulyss laughed. “Very clever, Joseph. Unfortunately the flash from the first shot 
is all I'll need to hit you with the second."
The echo of the gun being fired was deafening. The sound raced down the tunnel, 
bounced off the walls and came back again and again and again. Like a fool, 
Ulyss had fired into the dirt-and-beam ceiling.
Before he could get off the second shot, a low rumble sounded over their heads.
“What's that?” Ulyss whispered.
A shower of grit and loose rock began to sift down from the ceiling, filling the 
air with silt and dust so thick it was hard to breathe. “Cave-in!” Joseph 
shouted.
He covered his head with his arms and hunched into the wall as the debris became 
thicker and heavier, pounding at his back and shoulders. He struggled to 
breathe, fought for a chest full of clean air amidst the sound of Ulyss's 
screams. Timbers groaned, straining to hold back the rest of the mine, and then 
Joseph was struck on the back of the head and knocked unconscious.
20
Beevo Larsen was an enormous man,with an enormous heart, and an enormous smile. 
But when Tess spotted him coming up behind her on the road outside of Dodge, 
astride his wagon pulled by two lumbering black oxen, she seriously contemplated 
putting her heels to her horse and ducking for cover.
He spotted her right away, though, and urged his team toward her. “Pretty lady!” 
he called, grinning broadly. “So good to see you again!"
Tess placed a protective hand over her saddlebags stuffed full of money and 
smiled hesitantly as Beevo rolled up beside her, his oxen snorting and swirling 
up dust. Joseph could be anywhere in the mountains surrounding Dodge and she 
didn't have a lot of time to waste.
“I thought you would—” He paused, glancing around, looking perplexed. “Where is 
your man?"
“He, uh, he's waiting for me at the mine.” Big heart or not, she wasn't anxious 
to find out what Beevo would do if he thought she was unattached.
“The old Maguire mine?"
Tess's heart almost stopped beating. “Yes, yes, that's right. The Maguire mine. 
But, you know ... he wrote the directions out on a piece of paper for me last 
night before he left, and I went and lost them. Can you believe that?"
Beevo grinned. “Yes I do believe that, lady. Women have no brain for such 
things. But why is it that he would want to meet you in such a dangerous place?"
“He, um ... he thought it would be a nice place for a tryst?"
The large man's dark bushy brows came together. “What is this ... twist?"
Twist? Okay. “Something very American,” Tess replied. “But never discussed with 
others."
“Ah,” Beevo said, nodding seriously. “A lover's secret."
“That's right. And when you find your own American love, she will explain it all 
to you. Now could you possibly tell me the way to the mine?"
Tess almost died on the spot when he shook his head no.
“Why not?” she demanded.
“Too dangerous. Many wild things. Not a good place for a woman."
“But my man—the man I'm meeting will see to my safety, I'm sure."
“He left you in the jail."
Tess chewed her lip. “That's, uh, that's just a game we like to play. It makes 
thetwist more exciting."
“I like games,” Beevo said, smiling slyly.
“Then you'll understand why I hate to keep my man waiting."
He considered her for a long moment, and then finally gave a firm nod of his 
head. “All right. But no telling the way. I will take you there myself."
Before Tess could protest, Beevo had cracked his long whip and sent his oxen on 
their way up the road. She knew it was going to be hard enough forher to sneak 
up on Joseph, let alone this lumbering giant, but she consoled herself with the 
idea that Beevo might come in handy if she ended up having to tie Joseph up and 
drag him back to Sweet Briar.
They rode for two hours, along cliff sides, down gullies, through meadows of 
wildflowers, and past towering groves of trees. Finally Beevo pulled his oxen 
team up short at the base of a tall rise. There was a horse tethered there, and 
Tess recognized it right away as the one Joseph had rented from the livery in 
Sweet Briar.
She wanted to throw her arms around the lumbering man's neck and kiss him 
senseless. Instead she met him at the back of his wagon and held out her hand. 
“Thanks for your help."
He grinned down at her hand, and then pulled her into a rib-cracking hug, 
pounding her on the back as if she were a side of beef. “You ride well for a 
woman,” he said.
“Thank you,” she managed to strangle out. He released her and she staggered back 
a step. “I'm sorry if you've had to come far out of your way,” she added.
“This thing I do for you,” he replied. He looked behind him at the steep rise. 
“And now we go up."
“Up?” she practically squeaked, and then added, “Us?"
“Your legs are too skinny to take you up the mountain without Beevo's help. 
Come.” He took her by the arm. “I am very strong."
And twinkly, she wanted to add. What was Joseph going to think when she came 
barging toward the mine with this herculean foreigner on her heels? But she 
couldn't worry about that now. She could only hope Joseph was safe, and that he 
hadn't done anything foolish to Ulyss Coltrain.
The side of the hill was steep, and the loose dirt was slippery, but Tess 
managed to make it to the top by gaining hand and footholds on scrub brush and 
sturdy weeds. Beevo was right behind her as they reached the site of the mine 
where the smoky remains of a campfire greeted them. There was no sign of either 
Joseph or Ulyss.
“Please, God,” she whispered. “Please don't let him have already come and gone."
“He has not gone,” Beevo answered. “He would not leave his horse."
“Then where is he?” Tess spun around in a circle, looking all around her, and 
then shouted, “Joooseeeph!"
When she looked back at Beevo the blood froze in her veins. He was looking 
toward the mine and his expression was chilling. “Cave-in,” he whispered 
ominously.
Tess's gaze flew to the mine entrance, which was barely distinguishable beneath 
all the rock and rubble blocking it, and a sob caught in her throat. “He 
wouldn't have gone in there ... would he?” she asked weakly.
Beevo gave her a steady look. “I do not know."
“He wouldn't have. Joseph!” Tess shouted. She ran to the mine entrance. “Joseph! 
Joseph are you in there?” There wasn't even a pinprick of an opening in the 
collapse, but she started clawing at the stones and gravel, shouting his name.
Finally, Beevo took her by the shoulders and pulled her back. “It will take us 
days to dig through that, lady."
“But we have to do something! He could be in there! Dying!"
“I know of another way in."
She grabbed the big man by the front of his shirt. “Where?"
He pointed to a thick tangle of brambles to their right. “Through that."
Tess wasted no time in running to the place he'd indicated and shoving aside 
prickly bushes and tangles of overgrown vines. Beevo worked beside her, almost 
as anxious as she to free a man he didn't know.
When Tess shoved aside the last tumbleweed, she spotted a hole in the side of 
the hill.
“There,” Beevo said. “There it is."
Tess's eyes widened. The passage was only about four feet in diameter. “That's 
it?” She looked back at the big man. “But you can't fit in there."
“No.” He shook his head and jabbed her in the chest. “You can."
All thoughts of Joseph injured and maybe even dying inside were forgotten and 
Tess backed away. Her heart was pounding in quick jerking movements as she broke 
out in a cold sweat. “I can't go in there."
“I have matches and candles. There is nothing there in the dark—"
“It's not the dark!” she shouted. “I—I won't be able to breathe in that hole.” 
Terror was rising up to choke her even as she spoke. She could feel her lungs 
struggling for breath, as if a heavy weight were already pressing down over her.
“There is air. And this tunnel leads to the caved-in entrance."
“Tunnel? This is a tunnel!” It wouldn't be one, small tight squeeze? she thought 
frantically. She would enter, and then have to go on and on through the 
squeezing inky black.
Beevo took her by the shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. “Lady, if he is 
in there, you must do it. You must go to him and lead him out of the darkness."
“I can't,” she choked out, her eyes wandering back to that ominous hole.
“Then he will die."
The words, spoken so surely and so distinctly, filtered through Tess's panic and 
tore a sob from her throat. He might not even be in there, but could she take 
the chance? Was she going to let this irrational fear keep her from saving the 
man she loved?
Yes, she loved him. And the realization of that sent a surge of protective 
instinct through her trembling body. She wouldn't—she couldn't let him die.
Taking two gasping breaths, she walked on shaking legs toward the small back 
entrance to the mine. Beevo handed her a small box of matches and some candles, 
which she immediately stuffed into the front pockets on her jeans.
“How—how long is it?"
“I am not knowing. But these tunnels are built for this purpose, so it will be 
unblocked I am sure. But it might get smaller."
Smaller? The very idea sent Tess stumbling back a step. She had a mental image 
of the walls squeezing against her shoulders and jamming her into place, not 
allowing her to move forward, and not releasing her to move back. She would be 
trapped there in the dark, not able to move—
“Lady?"
Beevo's heavily accented voice broke through her thoughts of terror and reminded 
her of the present, of the man she loved and was trying to save. She looked at 
the opening to the tunnel, which had become the greatest obstacle of her life, 
and moved toward it. Her mind screamed, sending messages to her muscles to lock 
up, to not move another inch, but Tess forced back the impulses and crouched 
unsteadily at the tunnel's opening.
She saw nothing but chilling blackness in front of her, but before the fear had 
a chance to take a hold of her again, to wrap itself around her in a freezing 
moment of panic, she crawled inside just past her shoulders. The strong smell of 
sulfur filled her nostrils as her hands connected with the damp, smooth rock of 
the carved tunnel. She commanded her legs to move, to follow her inside, but her 
feet remained firmly planted on the security of the ground outside.
She thought of Joseph, of his flashing green eyes and charming, crooked smile. 
She thought of Sissy and Holly, and of how badly they would need their uncle in 
the years to come, of how devastated they would be if they lost yet another 
member of their family.
Tears streamed from her eyes and splashed on numb hands that were shaking so 
badly they were barely supporting her weight. “Joseph,” she whispered.
With one mighty surge of will, she brought one knee inside and placed it beneath 
her. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and pulled in the other knee. “Joseph, I'm 
coming."
The darkness was all around him, and he squeezed his eyes shut twice just to 
prove to himself that they were actually open. He pulled in a long deep breath, 
and then coughed: the air was thick and hard to breathe—probably filled with 
silt and dust from the cave-in.
The back of his head and neck were throbbing, a leftover gift from the rotting 
timber that had smashed down over him in the end. He wondered about Ulyss, and 
listened carefully for any sound, any hint of movement around him.
“Ulyss?” he rasped. He coughed again. “Ulyss?"
He sat up and groped in front of him with his hands. He felt coarse, heavy rock 
and splintered pieces of wood. There was no light coming from his left, the 
direction of the tunnel entrance, and he knew then that he'd been buried alive.
If the back access had been blocked off as well, he'd be out of air in a few 
hours. He had to start digging if he ever hoped to survive.
He rose carefully, mindful of the ache in his shoulders, and stumbled to his 
right, holding out his hands and feeling his way in the darkness. Once he 
reached a point where he could go forward no further, then he would put his back 
to the task of saving his own miserable life.
A sound came from behind him, a faint scratching, and he whirled, expecting to 
see Ulyss standing behind him. Nothing but inky blackness greeted him, and he 
stood very still, slowing his breathing, listening.
The sound came again, this time louder, and he crouched and peered hard into the 
darkness. And then a soft, trembling voice, so familiar it made his heart ache, 
came echoing toward him, singing of all things.
“There was a farmer in a cave and Joseph was his name, oh, J-O-S ... E-P-H, 
J-O-S ... E-P-H, J-O-S ... E-P-H, and Joseph was his name, oh."
“Tess.” The name fluttered from his lips like a sweet sigh, and he closed his 
eyes in desperation, his greatest fear coming true. What was she doing in the 
mine?
“J-O-S ... E-P-H,” she went on singing, her voice shaking with each note.
“Tess?” he called out to her.
The singing stopped abruptly. “Joseph!” The frantic, hoarse cry echoed hollow in 
the air around him, and Joseph was unable to get a bead on where she was. 
“Joseph, I'm coming! I'm coming to save you!"
“Where are you?” he called softly, trying to minimize the echo.
“I'm ... I'm trying hard not to think about that right now,” came her shaky 
reply. “J-O-S ... E-P-H,” she went on falteringly.
“Are you hurt?” he called back.
“N-no. I'm ... I'm just fine, thank you. I-I've got candles, and matches, and 
... and I'll be right there!"
Candles and matches? “Were you in the mine during the cave-in?” he asked, 
perplexed.
“If I had been in the mine I certainly wouldn't be crawling through this 
tight..."
Her voice stopped suddenly, and Joseph felt a moment of helpless panic. “Tess!” 
Her name echoed through the countless tunnels and then returned, ringing ten 
times over in his ears. “Tess, are you all right?"
He heard a whimper, faint but distinct, and tried to move toward it. Stumbling 
several times, he kept his ears alert, trying desperately to find her in the 
dark. It was a hopeless endeavor. “Where are you, damn it!” he shouted, 
frustration putting a growl in his voice.
“I can't move,” he heard her reply, so close it was almost a whisper in his ear.
He continued to grope until he found a smooth rock wall, and then his hand 
slipped inside, into cool moist air. It was the back entrance to the mine. And a 
narrow one at that, he guessed, feeling its rounded edges. He leaned his face 
forward and said softly, “Tess? Are you in there?"
“Joseph?” came her weak reply. “Joseph, I'm coming to ... to save you."
“Come forward a little more,” he coaxed gently, remembering her fear of small 
spaces.
“I ... I can't move. I ... I can't—"
“Just a few more inches, Tess, and it opens up into a huge room, with ceilings 
so high you could grow a redwood tree."
“Joseph.” His name was nothing but a sob and the sound of it just about yanked 
his heart out of his chest.
“I'm coming in."
“No!” she screamed frantically. “You'll block my way!"
“I'll lead you out."
“Please,” came her pleading whisper. “Please don't come in."
He reached his hand inside the tunnel as far as it would go, straining his 
already sore shoulder, but he was determined to give her some sort of lifeline. 
Their fingers touched. Hers were ice cold.
“Feel me, Tess,” he said soft and low. “Listen to my voice. It's only a little 
further and you'll be in my arms."
He felt her shuffle and edge forward just an inch or so more. “That's right,” he 
whispered. “Just a little more. A little more."
With a frantic cry, she lunged forward, scrambling the rest of the way and 
vaulting out against his chest. Her arms went around his neck, clutching 
desperately, and her heavy sobs were muffled against his shirtfront as he held 
her to him and rocked her gently. “It's all right,” he whispered into her ear. 
“Shh,” he said, hoping to quiet her tears. “It's all right now."
He pushed the hair back from her face and found her lips in the darkness. His 
mouth slid over hers, absorbing her trembles and the bittersweet salt of her 
tears. She'd faced her greatest fear, come through a mental terror that he could 
only imagine, and she'd done it all for him.
Her hands fell upon his face, breaking their kiss. Questing fingers slipped over 
his jaw and down his neck, feeling, seeking. “Are you all right?” she finally 
asked, the words quivering. “Are you all right, Joseph?"
God, how he wanted to see her face, to look into her eyes, to witness firsthand 
what he was hearing in her voice. The tenderness. The concern.
“I'm all right,” he answered, hoarsely. “You said you had matches and candles."
There was a moment's pause as she fumbled with something, and then he felt the 
cool wax and a box of matches pressed in his hand.
He struck a match and lit one of the candles. Wide blue eyes, the color of a 
warm summer sky, appeared before him, swimming with tears, and he smiled 
reassuringly. “Tess,” he whispered, reaching out to run his fingers along her 
jaw. “A little pixy come out of the darkness to save my life."
And to steal his soul.
“The—the tunnel will lead you outside."
“Us,” he said softly. “It will lead us outside."
She moved her head in a jerky motion. “I'm not going back. Not that way."
“Tess, there's no other way out. I've checked."
“I don't care,” she replied furiously. “I'd rather die in here than go back 
through that tunnel!"
Joseph may have done a lot of stupid things in his life, but there was one thing 
he knew for sure: He could never, ever leave her behind.
He took her face in his free hand, holding the candle up so that he could look 
deeply into her eyes. “I'm not leaving without you, Tess. We both go. Or we both 
stay. It's your choice."
Tess pressed her face into Joseph's warm neck. She'd risked her life to save 
him. Now she couldn't let him die for her.
“Don't be stupid,” she said, her body still trembling from her harrowing 
experience in the narrow tunnel. “Now's not the time to get chivalrous on me."
He held the candle higher, until it illuminated his handsome features. “I'm not 
leaving you, Tess. We'll go whenever you're ready."
But she'd never be ready.
She reached out to brush the hair away from the small bloody cut on his 
forehead. He was scratched up and filthy, but seemed to have come through the 
cave-in in one piece. Soon he'd be out in the fresh air and the sunlight, and 
she'd have the contentment of knowing that he'd survived as she slowly succumbed 
to the darkness.
A rise of panic sifted through her, making her muscles clench, but she fought it 
down, wanting Joseph to remember only the cool, collected side of her. Once 
she'd convinced him to leave without her, then would be soon enough to give into 
the spasms of fear that were even now trying to grip her body and her mental 
faculties.
She'd almost lost her mind crawling through that narrow expanse of solid rock. 
The tunnel had started out small, but it had narrowed the closer she'd gotten to 
the main entrance, squeezing her shoulders, making it harder and harder for her 
to move her arms and legs. But she'd made it, by some omnipotent being's grace 
perhaps, and had shown Joseph the way out. Now if he would only take it.
“Go,” she told him, tears streaming from her eyes. “But promise me you'll return 
to Holly and Sissy, Joseph. Promise me you won't let them be raised by 
strangers. No matter what you've done in your past, no matter what you might do 
in your future, they need you."
His hand cupped her face as his thumb brushed a single tear from her cheek. “I 
was only trying to do what was best for them, Tess. I swear to God I was."
“I know,” she whispered back. “But you can't let other people dictate what you 
do with your life or you'll never stop running."
He leaned his forehead against hers. How the hell did you get so smart?” he 
asked with a faint laugh.
“I met you.” A shiver racked through her and he pulled her closer.
“I'll go back to them, Tess. I'll make things work. But you're coming with me."
She shook her head frantically. “I can't, I can't—you don't know what you're 
asking!"
He cupped her face in both of his hands and kissed her sweetly. “I'll help you. 
Trust me. I'll do anything you want—everything you ask—but I will not leave here 
without you."
“Damn it, Joseph! Get in that tunnel and get out of here!"
“Tell me what the fear is?” he urged. “Explain to me how it feels."
“I'll be trapped,” she practically wailed. “I won't be able to move, to 
breathe!"
“You've gone through it once already, Tess. You weren't trapped, you had enough 
air, nothing will change on the way back."
“I barely made it. If you hadn't been here—"
“And I'll be right there with you on the way out. You'll be safe. I swear it."
She needed to believe him. The last thing she wanted was to die down here in a 
cold, dark cavern. But the panic had a will of its own. She could sense it 
dancing along the periphery of her courage, trying to undermine her will.
“Don't think about it, Tess,” he whispered. “The best way to do these things is 
to just jump in. Think about the sun on your face, the smell of clean fresh air 
... Holly and Sissy's smiles when we come riding down the road toward home."
She gazed at him in the wavering candlelight. “To stay?"
He smiled, infusing her with his quiet strength. “To stay."
Tess glanced toward the tunnel, seeing only a yawning chasm of blackness. He was 
right. She'd done it once before, she could do it again. She could. Unbeknownst 
to her, the tune of “Bingo” began humming on her lips once again, giving her 
mind something besides the fear to concentrate on. “Should I go first?” Joseph 
asked softly at her shoulder.
“No,” she said hoarsely. “And don't block my escape. Don't follow too close."
Before her mind could question what her body was doing, she crawled into the 
narrow tunnel and began moving as fast as she could to the light she knew waited 
on the other side.
She could hear Joseph moving behind her, could feel the brush of fresh air on 
her face from up ahead, but without warning a flash of alarm seized hold of her, 
freezing her in her tracks and refusing to let her go.
Joseph came up behind her, and she cried out in panic. “Back up! I have to get 
out!"
“Tess, listen to me, sweetheart. I want you to close your eyes."
She was gasping for air, sensing that it was dissipating and feeling her chest 
heave with the pressure. “Joseph!” she gasped.
“Close your eyes and imagine the wide open prairie, with flowers blowing in the 
breeze, and trees growing tall and wide beside a deep sparkling stream. Can you 
hear the birds, Tess?"
She allowed her eyes to slide closed. Her teeth were beginning to rattle along 
with the quaking of every muscle in her body. She shut off her senses, using her 
tortured mind instead and did her best to imagine Joseph's prairie.
“There's Sissy over by the tree. Do you see her?"
Joseph's little niece appeared in Tess's imagination and smiled at her, her big 
green eyes shining in the sun.
“What's Sissy wearing, Tess? Is that a new dress?"
“It's ... it's green, like the grass, with bunched lace around the sleeves."
“Move closer to her, sweetheart."
Tess focused on Sissy's smile, on the love glittering in her eyes, and slowly 
edged her body a little further down the tunnel.
“That's it,” Joseph said softly from behind her. “Go all the way to Sissy. The 
sun is so warm it's heating the top of your head, Tess. I told you to wear that 
bonnet. Do you feel that breeze on your face?"
Tess could feel it, sweet and cool. Somewhere in the recesses of her 
consciousness she knew the breeze was coming from the other end of the tunnel 
she was crawling through, but she smiled and let herself believe it was the same 
breeze sifting though the leafy trees in her mind.
“You've almost reached her, Tess. Sissy is holding out her arms to you."
Suddenly a pair of strong hands took Tess by the shoulders and pulled her into 
the very real heat of an afternoon sun. She opened her eyes, letting the image 
of Sissy disappear, and found herself staring at the broad chest of Beevo 
Larsen.
“You are all right, lady?"
Tess collapsed against the big man. He patted her on the back, harder than she 
would have liked, and she sobbed and laughed into his shirt, giddy with the joy 
of simply being alive.
“How ‘bout some for me?"
She turned and flew into Joseph's outstretched arms. “We're alive, Joseph,” she 
whispered, hoarse with emotion. “We're alive."
“Thanks to you, Tess. The bravest lady I know,” he said.
She took his face in her hands and kissed him, hard.
“Pardon me,” Beevo broke in with his thick accented voice.
Tess pulled away from Joseph. The big Austrian was looking disconcerted by her 
and Joseph's display of affection.
“Is, uh, is dair anybody else inside?” he asked.
“No,” Joseph answered.
Remembering Ulyss, Tess searched Joseph's expression for an explanation.
“Ulyss got caught in the center of the cave-in,” he told her. “He didn't make 
it."
Tess looked away, uncomfortable that she didn't feel an inkling of sadness for 
that one lost life. Joseph's was the only one that had mattered to her. He 
gathered her in his arms, supporting her weight and she realized it was over. 
Ulyss was gone. The man she loved was safe. And Holly and Sissy would have their 
happily ever after.
21
She came to him, dressed onlyin the glow of the fire, and knelt down beside 
where he lay naked on the blanket. He'd never seen anyone so beautiful, or felt 
such a reverence in the presence of another. She'd come to him in the darkness, 
a beacon guiding his way, his own sweet, guardian angel, and now she was 
offering him more than just his life.
He reached out and gently pulled her to him, letting his hand linger over the 
silken texture of her bare arm. His gaze roamed her face, drinking in the angles 
and the hollows, and he was mesmerized by the graceful slope of her pale brows 
and the seductive curve of her pink lips.
She touched him. Gliding her fingers over the ridge of his hard stomach, making 
the muscles tense in reflex, and slipped her hand over his hip. Her head bent 
and he leaned up to catch her kiss, groaning as her small tongue slipped between 
his parted lips.
A coyote howled, and she tensed and pulled back. He moved his hands up her back, 
holding her tenderly in place. “It's just the night sounds,” he whispered, 
tasting the curve of her neck. “Nothing can harm you when you're with me, Tess."
She leaned close again, content to let his lips roam her throat, her shoulder, 
the upper curves of her firm breasts. The crest of one rosy nipple called to him 
and he touched it tentatively with the tip of his tongue. A gasp pulled from her 
throat as she pushed her fingers into his hair to hold him in place. He licked 
at her, teased at her, and then covered her with his warm mouth.
“Oh, Joseph, yes,” she whispered, arching closer. Her hands clutched at his 
shoulders, her legs moved restlessly beside his, and he moved on to the other 
tempting peak.
The campfire popped as Joseph rolled Tess beneath him, covering her soft, warm 
body with his. He kissed her, long and deep, taking his leisure with her mouth, 
until he felt her growing urgency.
The smooth skin of her hip was his guide and he curled his fingers beneath one 
of her thighs and parted her long, slender legs. She adjusted herself willingly 
for him, and he sighed as his lower body settled against her welcoming warmth.
Her fingernails blazed a trail down his back until she was kneading the hard 
curves of his backside, starting him on the rhythm that would take them to the 
stars.
He entered her, but only minutely, wanting to treasure every moment, every tiny 
sensation to the end. She wasn't satisfied with that, however, and pressed her 
hips up toward him in an attempt to embed him more deeply inside her.
“Don't toy with me, Joseph,” she whispered. She let out a passionate cry as he 
slipped in a little further. “I need you. I need you now!"
He gave her a little more and she pressed her head back into the blanket, into 
the soft grass cushioning their bodies, and arched her hips upward. It was a 
welcome no sane man could resist. He pulled himself up to rest on his hands and 
thrust into her in one broad stroke. She climaxed immediately, and Joseph had to 
fight to keep his control as tiny female muscles massaged and squeezed at him, 
prodding his steely flesh to follow their lead.
It was her impassioned look that did him in. Her eyes opened, glazed and hooded, 
and he realized that he had put that hunger there. With a maddening groan, he 
threw back his head and plunged into the well of her desire, exploding into a 
thousand sparkling stars that brought relief and gave new life with merely a few 
uncontrollable thrusts.
He leaned over her and kissed her full lips, felt her will to surrender even 
now, after she'd been fully satisfied. And he knew that he could never let her 
go. This woman was his. Mind, body, and soul.
Tess was so close to tears she could barely speak. Joseph had made love to her 
in the night with a tenderness she'd never before experienced, and now, much to 
her amazement, she was terrified at the thought of returning to the twentieth 
century.
How could she leave him when she loved him so very much? He turned in his saddle 
and looked back at where she rode behind him, no doubt wondering at her silence 
all morning long. But how could she explain? How could she tell him that despite 
everything she'd gone through to convince him not to abandon his nieces that 
she, in the end, would be doing exactly that?
She knew what her life was going to be like without the three of them: Lonely 
and without purpose. The same as it had been before. Only now she would know 
what it really felt like to be loved, and she wasn't sure she could live with 
the memory.
Joseph reined in his horse, allowing her to ride up beside him, and she quickly 
dashed at the tears standing in her eyes. She had to keep her emotions hidden 
from him, to prevent him from asking questions that she would be unable to 
answer.
His attention lingered on her as she pulled up next to him. She gave him a warm 
smile, hoping to cover the misery she was feeling.
“You're distracted,” he said. “What's bothering you?"
She shook her head, but the hot tears that filled her eyes betrayed her. “It's 
nothing, Joseph. I just ... I just miss Holly and Sissy."
He reached out and lifted her chin so he could look deeply into her eyes. A 
single tear drizzled down her cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb. “This 
doesn't have anything to do with last night, does it?"
“No, no, absolutely not. Last night was...” A smile crept its way to her lips. 
“Last night was wonderful."
He grinned back. “You keep smiling like that and half the town is gonna know how 
wonderful."
“Well"—she stifled a sudden yawn—"don't care what half the town knows."
His expression turned admiring. “You know, you've gotta teach me that trick 
sometime."
“What trick is that?"
“The one where you don't let other people's opinions of you interfere in your 
life."
“Priorities,” she responded.
“Priorities?"
“About the only good thing my nanny ever taught me while I was growing up was to 
set priorities. Decide what is most important to you and give it precedence. You 
focus on that one special thing, Joseph, and you won't care if the rest of the 
world goes to hell in a handbasket."
He smiled, faintly at first, thoughtfully, and then broke into a broad grin. 
Then, without warning, he leaned over and lifted her out of her saddle. Tess 
gasped as he placed her across his lap, and she wrapped her arms around his neck 
to steady herself. “What are you doing?” she asked, laughing.
“I know you didn't get much sleep last night,” he whispered against the top of 
her head, and she squeezed her eyes shut, glad he wasn't aware of the concerns 
that had kept her awake. “This way you can take a nap before we get there.” With 
Joseph's strong arm around her waist, Tess settled against his hard, warm chest 
with a contented sigh. “And I hope you're not worryin’ again, Tess,” he added. 
“Because, the way I see it"—she smiled when he kissed the top of her head—"there 
is nothin’ on God's great earth to concern yourself with now."
Joseph's horse moved forward again, its steadyclop clop mingling with the sound 
of the other horse that followed along dutifully. The sun was warm on her head 
as she settled in alongside Joseph's steady heartbeat, listening to him breathe, 
feeling his strength wrapped securely around her. He made her feel safe, loved. 
But she'd completed her mission. She'd kept the Maguire family together, and now 
she doubted there was anything on God's great earth that could stop her from 
being sent back home.
They rode throughout the morning and afternoon, Tess sleeping off and on, and 
turned onto the quiet, clean main street of Sweet Briar, Kansas just before 
dusk. The town looked the same as the day they'd left, and Tess felt relieved to 
be back where she didn't have to worry about simply walking down the street in 
broad daylight.
Instead of riding toward Doc Nathan's, though, where Holly and Sissy were 
staying, Joseph pulled up short in front of the wood mill. “I'll just be a 
minute” he whispered to her, and left her sitting in his saddle.
Her eyes still drooping, Tess watched as he strode into the mill office, 
wondering what was so important that it couldn't wait until the next day. A few 
minutes later she heard him shouting.
“What the hell do you mean you refuse!” his bellow echoed from within the 
weathered, clapboard building. “How ‘bout if I refuse to let you live another 
five seconds!"
Tess scrambled down from the horse and hurried into the mill office. Joseph had 
the proprietor by the shirtfront and was holding him up against the wall, two 
inches off the ground.
“Joseph!” She dashed forward and took hold of his flexed arm. “What are you 
doing!"
“Just gettin’ a little respect, honey. Somethin’ I should done a long time ago. 
Now are you gonna build it, Anderson, or do I give my business to somebody 
else?"
“But ... but I thought you'd left!” the man choked out. “Left for good!"
“I changed my mind,” Joseph replied darkly.
“Joseph, put the man down,” Tess said. She wasn't sure what was going on, but 
the sight of him attacking this pitiful man was disconcerting.
Mr. Anderson's heels dropped back to the floor, and the man tugged at the bottom 
of his vest to straighten his clothing. “I could have you arrested for 
manhandling me like that, Maguire,” he said.
“Yes or no, Anderson,” Joseph persisted.
The man gave him a stubborn look and demanded, “Where you gonna get the money?"
“I'll sell some of the animals to get you a down payment, and I'm willin’ to 
work off the rest helpin’ you around the mill."
Mr. Anderson's expression turned incredulous. “The last thing I need around here 
is a known criminal stealin’ from my cash box."
Joseph stiffened, and Tess decided that if he took the man by the shirtfront 
again she'd allow it; the little weasel was really asking for it, as far as she 
was concerned. “I paid for my crime, Anderson,” Joseph grit out. “And it's about 
time folks in this town started realizin’ that. I've never so much as stepped on 
a toe in the respectable streets of Sweet Briar for the entire year I've lived 
here, and I think it's time I gained just a little more respect because of it. 
Now, I know you've been shorthanded since Todd McFeeney moved to Wichita. And 
I'm offering you two strong arms and a steady pair of hands."
The mill owner didn't respond, and Tess couldn't stand to watch any longer. The 
people of Sweet Briar were fools not to realize what a wonderful man Joseph 
Maguire was. “I'll give you whatever money you need, Joseph, from what we got 
for the candleholder."
“No,” he replied sharply. “Is it a deal, Anderson? Or do I try your competition 
at the other end of the block?"
Tess held her breath.
At the mention of the man's competition, Mr. Anderson's hard expression melted 
just a little. “All right, Maguire,” he finally said. “I'll take you on for a 
month. But I don't want no problems from you!"
Joseph pumped the man's hand. “And you won't get any."
“I'll have a crew out to your place first thing in the morning,” Anderson added.
Joseph nodded curtly. “I appreciate this, Mr. Anderson. And you will not regret 
this decision.” He turned and pushed Tess out of the office.
When the two of them got outside, however, Joseph let out a whoop and swung her 
up into his arms.
“What was that all about?” Tess asked, laughing as he set her back on her feet.
“That, my sweet, was about me and my priorities.” He gave her a quick kiss, and 
then lifted her up onto her horse. “And,” he continued, climbing up into his own 
saddle, “thanks to you, I know exactly what they are."
She gave him a bemused look, liking this carefree side of him that she'd caught 
only glimpses of before.
“Well?” he asked, reining his horse away from the hitching post. “What are we 
waiting for? We've got a date with two young beauties at the doctor's house."
When Tess and Joseph rode up to Doctor Nathan's house, Holly and Sissy ran out 
to greet them, Sissy carrying a small, pink fuzzy quilt. Tess hugged both girls 
tightly to her, almost afraid to let them go. She and Joseph were both tired and 
dirty, and Alice Nathan insisted that the two of them stay the night after a 
healthy dinner of beef stew and hot rolls.
Later, after Tess had seen the girls tucked snugly in their beds, and had said a 
lingering goodnight to Joseph as he went outside to clean up in the creek out 
back, she climbed the long staircase to her assigned room where a hot bath 
waited her, compliments of Alice Nathan. She spent only enough time in the 
wooden tub to wash the trail dust off. As she was combing out the wet tangles in 
her hair, she noticed a remarkable woman staring back at her in the dresser 
mirror. And it surprised her to realize that that remarkable woman was her. 
She'd changed. She was no longer that same selfish, narrow-minded society queen. 
And it was more than just the extra freckles on her nose or the new golden cast 
to her skin that made it seem so. The blue eyes looking back at her were filled 
with life, love, and a genuine sense of well-being.
Joseph had done these things for her. Holly and Sissy had done them. She'd 
finally found the family she'd always wanted. And it wasn't hers to keep.
22
Joseph crept up the stairsof the Nathan home, hoping there wasn't a soul still 
awake. He'd finished with his bath out back in the creek, and was now interested 
in other pursuits. The last thing he needed at the moment, however, was to be 
caught sneaking into Tess's room, by either his nieces or the doctor and his 
wife.
He reached the room at the top of the stairs and turned the knob. The door 
opened soundlessly, and he slipped inside and closed it quietly behind him.
She was already in bed: The glow from the moon outside shone pale yellow through 
the window and illuminated her shape beneath the blankets. Without a word, he 
stripped off his clothes and slipped in beside her.
She mumbled contentedly in her sleep, and pressed her warm back against him. He 
touched her bare, silken skin, sliding his hand over her hip, and smiled into 
her hair when she sighed and nestled her soft bottom against the hardness 
between his legs.
The scent of her skin filled his senses, warming his heart, and he found himself 
wondering how he'd ever lived without her. Barely, he supposed was the only 
answer. But now that she was his, he would never let her go.
He moved his hand around her narrow waist, up the smooth slope of her back where 
he cupped one creamy shoulder in his big hand. She slept on, her breath a 
whisper in the still room as he placed a leisurely kiss in the crook of her 
neck.
“Mmmm,” she murmured, unconsciously tilting her head to give him better access.
“Tessss,” he whispered in her ear, biting at the delicate lobe. “Are you 
dreamin’ about me?"
She nestled closer and pressed her head back against his shoulder. “Don't wake 
me up,” she said back in a soft, raspy voice.
He slipped his hand down her shapely thigh. “Lift your leg for me a little, 
honey.
She did and he moved her knee back to hook behind his, placing her in position 
to receive him. He could feel her warmth, her dampness against the broad tip of 
him, and he groaned, knowing the ecstasy he was about to find within her.
“Tess,” he whispered as he flexed upward, entering her only enough to make his 
intentions very clear. “This isn't a dream."
She let out a little gasp and reached back to take hold of his neck, placing 
them cheek to cheek. “You'll always be a dream for me Joseph,” she whispered 
back.
Permission granted, he placed his hand flat against her smooth stomach and held 
her in place as he pressed his entire length inside her. Her fingernails dug 
into the back of his neck but he barely felt it compared to the intense pleasure 
of having her wrapped all around him. She was slickness and heat, and he had to 
bury his face in her hair to keep from shouting out in pure male satisfaction.
He was setting a slow, steady pace, moving in and out of her, and her tiny 
little cries of pleasure were growing louder and louder. When she started to 
climax, emitting a sharp cry in the still room, he pressed his hand over her 
mouth to keep her from having to face inquiring looks in the morning. But when 
her tiny muscles clenched around him and he found himself thrusting into her 
like a wild man, he was the one who wound up making all the noise.
Joseph wasn't himself.
After the night they'd shared, Tess would have expected Joseph to be charming 
and doting, as he had been on the other “mornings after.” But on this particular 
morning he was quiet, thoughtful, almost timid—if she could believe that.
Her time with him and the girls was short at best, and she wanted to take him by 
the shoulders and shake him, tell him not to waste a second of it on uncertainty 
or unvoiced complaints. She supposed she'd only added to the problem, though, by 
letting him get away with his odd mood throughout the early morning and during 
their ride back to the farm.
However, when he rode his horse right up to the barn and then right past it she 
wasn't about to let him get away with it for another second. “Where the hell are 
you going?” she demanded from astride her own horse.
He looked back at her, and then at Holly and Sissy as they drove the wagon into 
the yard. “Holly, you and your sister unhitch the horses, and then join me and 
Miss Harper in the north pasture."
“Yes, Uncle Joseph,” the girls called in unison.
Tess stared in bewilderment at the man in front of her. “I really don't care to 
visit the dogs this morning, Joseph."
He turned his horse back and reached for Tess's reins. “This is one kennel 
you'll need to see."
Her hands resting on her saddle horn, Tess allowed Joseph to lead her and her 
horse up to the north pasture, a place she'd never felt the need to go before. 
She couldn't imagine why he was taking her there, or why he was acting so 
strange, but it all began to fall into place when they topped the crest of a 
rise.
There, in front of them, were over twenty men, digging, mixing cement, pounding 
boards together. Tess remembered Joseph's odd conversation with Mr. Anderson at 
the mill the day before, and realized now what it had all meant.
“A house?” she whispered.
Joseph swung down from his horse and stood beside her, looking up into her face. 
“A real house, Tess. With wooden floors and wooden walls. With a real shingle 
roof and more than one room. All it needs now is you."
Her chest tightened. Please God, don't let him ask, she prayed silently. Don't 
make me hurt him this way.
He took her hand and her heart nearly stopped. “Marry me, Tess,” he said 
intently. “I love you more than the sky, than my very next breath. Say you'll be 
my wife."
Tears filled Tess's eyes and spilled down onto her cheeks. She wanted to throw 
herself into his arms and shout “yes!” to the tops of the heavens. But how could 
she marry a man who lived in the past when she was bound to the future?
He saw the hesitation in her face and a little bit of the joy she'd seen in his 
eyes slipped away. “What is it?” he asked, dread heavy in his voice. He tried to 
move back from her, sensing that she was about to refuse, but she held tight to 
his hand.
“I love you,” she said, managing to get the words past her breaking heart. “More 
than you could ever know."
“But."
She sniffed and smiled past her tears. “All this ... the farm, the new house, 
the way you plan to devote yourself to your family, it's all so wonderful."
“And I want to give it to you. All of it, including the devotion."
“But I can't take it."
He shook his head, worked his hand free from hers, and turned away. “I don't 
understand. I know things were tough for you at first, but I thought you'd 
become happy here."
Tess slipped off her horse and went to him. “I've never been so happy."
“Then it's your family. They wouldn't want you marryin’ a convicted outlaw—"
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “You and the girls are the only family I've 
ever really had."
“Then stay with us,” he pleaded in a broken whisper.
“Yes, Miss Harper, why not stay?"
Tess pulled back in shock at the sight of the little woman appearing just beyond 
Joseph's right shoulder. Joseph read her expression and whirled around, probably 
expecting to find a wild Indian by the look on her face, but when he turned back 
to her she could tell by his expression that he couldn't see the woman Tess had 
been dreading meeting up with again.
“What is it?” he asked, reaching for her. “You're as pale as a ghost."
“What did you say?” she responded to the woman.
Joseph thought she was speaking to him. “I said, you're as pale as a ghost."
“I was inquiring as to why you don't simply stay here with Mr. Maguire and the 
girls,” the woman answered.
“Is that possible?” Tess asked, hope worming its way into her heart.
“Sure, if all the blood drains out of your face,” Joseph answered. “Come over 
here and sit down."
“No...” Tess wasn't taking her eyes off the woman behind him. “No, I'm fine, 
Joseph, really."
“You've completed your mission, Miss Harper. And, I must say, I am quite 
impressed with your progress."
“Thank you,” Tess answered in a daze.
Joseph was still concerned. “Are you sure you don't wanna sit?"
“Holly and Sissy Maguire will now go on to lead very happy, fruitful lives 
because of your efforts. You have every reason to be proud."
“And Joseph?"
“What?” he responded.
“That all depends on you."
“Me?"
“Tess you get your butt over here and sit the hell down,” Joseph finally 
demanded. She allowed him to lead her over to an old rotted out tree stump where 
he sat her down and then crouched in front of her. “This is what you get for not 
wearin’ that damn bonnet."
The woman was smiling at him. “He loves you,” she told Tess.
“Yes.” Tess smiled at the man in front of her. “Yes, I suppose he does."
“Surprised?"
Tess grunted. “Aren't you?"
“Not at all. He has always loved you, Miss Harper. Even before he consciously 
realized that you even existed. This is the man you were meant to spend your 
life with. If you had met as children, as originally planned, he would have 
never gotten into the trouble he had. Your devotion would have guided him away 
from Ulyss Coltrain."
Tess gazed at the man she loved as he brushed the hair out of her eyes and felt 
her forehead. “You don't feel warm,” he muttered.
“Then I'm meant to be here, with him?"
The woman smiled and nodded.
“Tess, are you just talkin’ to yourself? ‘Cause you're startin’ to make me 
really nervous."
“Would you like to stay?” the woman offered.
Tess jumped up from where she was sitting, and Joseph stumbled backward in 
shock. “More than anything!” she cried, tears of joy spilling down her cheeks. 
“I want to stay more than anything,” she repeated fiercely.
“But you must understand that you can never change your mind again. If you make 
this decision, here is where you will always stay."
A bright smile filled Tess's face. “That is the most wonderful thing anybody has 
ever said to me."
“Then it's decided?” the woman pressed.
Tess looked at Joseph, at his very confused face and didn't hesitate with her 
answer this time. “It's decided."
“What's decided?” he asked cautiously. “What's the most wonderful thing anybody 
has ever said to you?"
She threw herself against him and slipped her arms around his neck. “That you 
love me. That you want to marry me.” She kissed him and it took only a moment 
for his shock to wear off enough for him to kiss her back.
“Wait a minute,” he finally said, pushing her back. “Did I miss something here? 
A minute ago youcouldn't say yes."
Tess smiled and gave him a good-natured smack on the chest. “Why, Joseph 
Maguire. Don't you know that you can't ask a woman something like that without 
knocking her clean off her feet? You've got to give a girl some time to adjust."
“Adjust?"
She grinned at him. “I've adjusted."
“You have?"
“I'll marry you on one condition."
His charming smile came back as he hooked his arm around her waist and pulled 
her up against him. “Which is?"
“I never have to feed another piglet as long as I live."
His kiss melted into her lips, drifted down her whole body, and heated her down 
to her toes. She sank into his embrace, basking in the joyous knowledge that she 
would do it again and again a million times over.
The sound of Sissy and Holly laughing as they came into the pasture pulled the 
two of them apart. Joseph whirled around and shouted, “There's gonna be a 
wedding!” and the girls broke into shouts of excitement.
The four of them came together in one gigantic hug, a family at last, a family 
forever.
The guide wiped at the tears in the corner of her eyes and let out a husky 
laugh. “I'm going soggy down here again,” she called up to the sky above her 
head. She sighed, watching the newly formed Maguire family walk off through the 
meadow. “It's a tough job, but satisfaction is definitely guaranteed."




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