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Liability
by N.C. Anderson
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Copyright (c)1999 by N.C. Anderson
First published by The Fiction Works, July 2004

The Fiction Works
www.fictionworks.com

Thriller


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         *Chapter 1*
         Sunnyville, California
       Heartsick and frustrated, Maggie Rand watched her friend Sue as she climbed into her car and headed for her own home down the street. She hadn't wanted to hurt Sue's feelings, but there hadn't seemed any way around it. Her friend just didn't understand how unbearable the situation had become, and though Maggie had tried, she couldn't make Sue understand that she no longer trusted Kenneth Remley. Her friend saw Ken as a hero, a real trooper. But it was Ken's constant prodding, accusations, and cryptic demands that were driving Maggie away from this house, this town.
       Maggie couldn't tell her friend how much she desperately needed to change her life now, or Sue would still be standing in the kitchen, arguing, and would probably tell Ken. The last person Maggie wanted knowing about her plans was the man she no longer considered sincere.
       She touched the rounded swell of her belly and felt the movement within. If things would just go right, she could have everything perfect and waiting for the baby. A new life, a new outlook, and the healing she needed.
       She glanced around the bare living room. She had to leave this house if she wanted to survive this nightmare. First she'd had to accept separation from Josh several months ago -- Maggie stifled a sob -- then she'd had to face the sudden deaths of everyone she had ever loved. It was ripping the heart from her chest; it was as if she were bleeding to death. She had found herself lying awake every night, listening for the boys -- for their sweet laughter.
       And she couldn't bare hearing Ken maligning Josh or breathing down her neck for even one more day.
       Maggie went to the coat closet near the front door, opened it and removed a suitcase, thankful Sue hadn't seen her put it there. Sue and Jacob Campbell, were the best friends she'd ever known, but they would try and change her mind about the choice she had made. She knew that an argument with them would drain the last of her energy.
       Her two dogs, Shane and Cricket, danced around her as she reached for the front door knob. "This is the last of it," she told them. "We'll be on the road in an hour."
       After placing the suitcase in her small utility trailer, she returned to the house and reached to open the front door. Shane, the biggest of the two dogs, began growling. Maggie turned to find out why.
       Muscular arms wrapped around her, and she found herself clamped tightly against Ken. The air whooshed from her lungs, forced from her body by the sudden collision with his broad chest and because he'd startled her. Not bothering to struggle against his superior strength, she rested against him until he relaxed his hold.
       Ken grinned amiably. "Why don't you put that ugly mutt somewhere so we can talk?" His voice was pleasant, but then, it always was. Maggie realized he wasn't asking, he was telling, and at that point Shane reacted to Ken as the animal always did, curling her lip and emitting a deep growl.
       You're so darned smart, Shane, Maggie thought, and you can see right to the heart of people. It had taken a while, but Maggie finally realized Shane was telling her something about Ken that she had avoided listening to even when she started experiencing an eerie, bone-chilling dread of him. Well, she was listening now. That chill was all around her.
       "What do you want, Ken? And by the way, this mutt stays with me all the time," Maggie said softly, sweetly. "But, you already knew that."
       Ken's face registered an impatience she'd witnessed twice before. His caring act slipped more with each of his visits to her. With one hand clasped firmly on her arm, he wrenched the knob, opened the door, and guided her inside.
       "I said we need to talk, and I don't have much time."
       To Maggie's surprise, his voice was almost as much a growl as Shane's, who was right on his heels, plainly waiting for him to get out of line just a little more.
       Maggie shook his hand away and stepped beyond his reach. "All right, Ken, what is it you want?"
       He leaned against the door, his facade congenial again. "I have an important appointment in a few minutes. I stopped to let you know that I'll be picking you up about seven for dinner."
       His face appeared unemotional, yet his frosty, steel-gray eyes looked hard, and she knew he would never accept the no she intended to give him for an answer.
       He moved from the entryway toward her. "Tonight we have a client to impress," he said. "Josh owed this client money. I need your help persuading him not to collect, but to make investments. We, you and I, are going to be extremely nice to him."
       Maggie turned her head quickly in an attempt to cover her real thoughts. The hell she was! She couldn't prove Ken was doing anything underhanded; but he was always evasive, and she didn't trust him any more than Shane did. This would be the second dinner he had arranged. The first one was shock enough as he wined and dined and persuaded a couple to extend the holdings of a trust instead of taking it to a different law firm for another opinion.
       Maggie had already given him a wealth of funds to cover what she and Josh owed jointly in their marriage. That was as far as she would take her responsibilities. If Josh actually had other debts, he had made them alone. Ken took the insurance money, she sold her home, her friends wouldn't listen to her doubts about Ken, and now -- now she'd had enough.
       "Seven o'clock did you say?" She forced what she hoped was an innocent expression as she faced him.
       The look Ken turned on her said he thought she was a total idiot. She would be one too, if she allowed him to manipulate her any longer. She'd fallen for his act of friendship too easily. He had been Josh's boss, but Josh was dead.
       "Yes -- and, Maggie, we're going to discuss the future. You obviously need my help to get some purpose back into your life. You've been muddling around in a dream-cloud for more than six months." Ken seized both of her upper arms, and Maggie sensed a desperation in his grip and voice that she hadn't noticed before. "We have serious business to clear up, and it won't happen until you wake up."
       He suddenly released her. "You're nearly out of money. Some of the people Joshua became indebted to are thinking they should start some litigation against you." Ken shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. "All you need to do is sign some papers, and I can probably stop their initiative. I certainly wouldn't want to see your pretty little ass in jail."
       Maggie subdued the nervous fear his words created as once again he tried to shove her into a proverbial box; a cage that contained absolute destitution if she submitted. He would get no more of her money, because she would fight him. And the fight would take every last dime she had, every last dime she needed for her child. "Why would I go to prison for anything?" she asked, trying for the umpteenth time to force him to explain. "I don't know about Josh having other bills, or using anyone's money. Why don't you just clarify what you're talking about?"
       "People generally don't take it kindly when their money disappears. Separated or not, Josh was your husband and your name is on the investments. Now that he's gone, they have become your problem." Ken's mouth narrowed in a grim line. "I think you should be more grateful for all the things I've done for you."
       Maggie ignored his last words. "If my name is on investment documents, then someone else put it there," she said, gritting her teeth so tightly her jaw hurt.
       His expression was one of angry shock. He has to be lying she thought. His gestures and words were adding fuel to her suspicions. Ken had lived around the law since birth, and if anyone was clever enough to twist the system it was Ken. But the cost of an attorney, one honest and competent enough to prove her suspicions, would leave her in poverty. Maggie had made her choice; her child came first no matter what.
       Ken rubbed his index finger across his nose then dropped his hand to his side, visibly softening, then smiled and took her hand gently in his. "I apologize, Maggie, I shouldn't have said that. I was wrong. You haven't had enough time to recover. We have some complicated business investments to go over so you'll understand the seriousness of your predicament, and the whys and hows." He moved forward. "We can talk about this when you're more relaxed and ready to understand the details."
       Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pulled her closer, his arrogant mouth coming toward her cheek. Maggie felt her ability to handle the situation slipping from her like a wet, squirming fish. With immense self-control, she swallowed the rage bubbling in her at his continued evasiveness. Questioning him further would gain nothing, and she might alert him to her plans if she spouted off in anger. She'd given him his last chance -- enough was enough.
       He always wore expensive clothes and expensive cologne, but the scent burned inside her nose, and she hated the smell of it. Maggie couldn't stand the idea of his touching her and jerked away just as Ken bellowed a yelp of surprise. He stepped back and Maggie saw the reason; Shane's teeth firmly gripped the calf of his leg.
       Maggie knelt and, after a touch from her, Shane released Ken. She rose to her feet quickly, wondering what Ken would do next. If he tried the slightest violence, Shane would have hold of something much more vital than his leg. Although Shane had sound guard training, if she thought Maggie was in certain danger it might take a bit more than a touch from her to make the dog release him.
       "That damn dog will be out of here tomorrow. I'll see to it personally." He was practically screaming with rage, and his face changed to a blotchy, dark red.
       "You!" he demanded, shaking his finger near her face, "be ready by seven o'clock." He turned and strode to the door, yanked it open, and slammed it behind him.
       After waiting five minutes Maggie lifted her purse from the kitchen counter, called the dogs, closed and locked the door to the place she'd called home for most of her adult life. She got into the car and pointed it eastward.
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         *Chapter 2*
         Three weeks later, La Vista, Arizona
       The oaths Benjamin Karr ground out were exclusively Yank-Military as he leaned with his horse, swerving sharply to cut off the cow sprinting for freedom in front of them.
       "Hey, Boss, you're too darned old for this. When you going to hog-tie a wife and let us young'ens handle the simple stuff?" Cliff bantered, laughing. Dirt and rock showered Ben as Cliff spurred his horse around him and drove the white-faced heifer back amongst the tightly bunched herd near the river.
       Ben shifted his horse out of the dirt cloud and onto the grass that lined the riverbank. "Mind your own business, Cliff," Ben yelled back, grinning. "Marriage and doctoring don't mix -- like I've told you before." He knew Cliff was joking, and like all his men, loved needling him about being an ol' man.
       Sometimes, at the ripe end of thirty-seven, he even felt antique. However, he meant what he said, even though there were times when not having found a wife to share everything with, not having children to love and be a continuance of his life did troubled him. But, regretfully, and with the exception of his psyche-matched parents, from what he'd observed, oil and water mixed better than doctors managed to combine the commitments of marriage and vocation.
       So what if his life had its lonely moments, it was running smoothly and exactly the way he wanted it.
       Ben urged his horse away from the river; guiding him toward the foothills they were working. He took a deep breath, enjoying the combined, zesty fragrances from the sagebrush and pines growing along the water's sloping banks.
       "Hey, Boss," his ranch foreman yelled, shaking Ben from his thoughts. Joe Webb rode toward him with a serious frown that increased the various wrinkles in his normally craggy face.
       Ben checked the large, black stallion to a standstill and waited. "Easy, Shadow," he murmured, brushing the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. The Arizona sun smoldered over the land with its usual mid-summer gusto, and the gentle, steady movement of the clear, clean water in the shallow river exuded more invitations by the minute. If he gave an order for the men to have a swim and a lunch break before crossing the river, they would leap at it with lusty approval.
       Ben turned and faced the bigger man as he stopped beside him. "What's up, Joe?" Ben smiled. Joe didn't carry an ounce of spare flesh, and at times his six-foot-plus frame seemed built with the endurance of steel.
       "It's a strange thing, Doc, but you have to come and decide about this one." Joe shook his head and gestured behind him. "I found tire tracks over there about a hundred yards. I know by the tread marks and tire size they don't belong to the ranch pickup, and it's the only vehicle we ever bring up here." He hesitated. "Tracks have been there a while, too, because they're only visible in the bare dirt."
       Ben raised his eyebrows. "Cattle thief?" They'd managed more than once to deal with thieves.
       "I don't think so," Joe answered, lifting his Stetson from his head and wiping his face with a faded-blue bandanna. "The tracks are far too narrow for anything a cattle thief might use -- unless he's small-time and only wants one or two."
       "We'll investigate after I tell the men what we're doing." Ben touched Shadow into a lope and headed toward the two men circling the forty-head of beef near the river. They'd only been here a few minutes and were fortunate to find most of the fugitive livestock grazing in the open land near the river.
       A brown cloud billowed behind the ranch pickup as it rattled away from the river and headed for the damaged fence line he'd ordered Kyle to repair.
       With the fence patched, they could soon end their hunt for strays. My backside already feels thankful that this is the last area, Ben thought, shifting to relieve the stiffness in his spine. He'd been in the saddle so many hours the past two weeks any groundwork around the ranch house sounded like a reprieve.
       A few yards away, Ben reined Shadow to a stop, waved his arm and whistled. Cliff turned his mount and raised his hand in response.
       "You and Tim hold them there, Cliff, until I'm finished helping Joe." When Cliff nodded, Ben whirled Shadow and loped in Joe's direction.
       A deep, frenzied barking reverberated through the hills. Ben twisted in the saddle, swinging his gaze toward the boulder and brush filled foothills. A massive, red-gold dog barreled down the hill, zeroing in on the herd. Turning his horse without breaking stride, he galloped back the way he'd come with Joe right behind him.
       What the bloody hell was a dog doing out here? If it reached those Herefords they would scatter in forty different directions.
         * * * *
       Eight minutes earlier in the foothills, two hundred yards above the river valley and hidden from sight in a secluded cave, Maggie blinked her eyes as she strained to focus them. She bemoaned that her whole body felt weak and useless from the fever that had sickened her the week before. It didn't matter; she had to get moving. She'd already stayed here too long.
       She wiggled into a sitting position, then reached for the small, gold frame lying beside her pillow. Slowly, tenderly, she traced a finger around each smiling face. It seemed utterly impossible to accept that they were gone -- never coming back. Rocking back and forth, Maggie clasped the frame firmly against her chest and closed her eyes tightly.
       The photograph instantly brought to mind the vivid nightmare that had just awakened her, and nausea tugged at her stomach. Her little boys, reaching out to her, but she couldn't -- Stop it! she told herself forcefully. Remembering merely nurtured the persistent emptiness she struggled daily to overcome. If she could keep it pushed from her mind -- maybe -- maybe, she could persuade the dream to leave her in peace.
       Maggie set the photo on her pile of blankets, and settled back against her pillow as she glanced at the timeworn, honey-colored stone that surrounded her. Loneliness was something she was learning to live with. She'd had a year and a half to get used to marital separation; only then, she could still hope that Josh would come home. Only then, she still had her boys as the sunshine of her life ... no more laughter and games and touching, no more debating on homework, no more weekend camping and hunting trips ... no more family....
       It didn't prove healthy for her to love anyone -- not healthy for the other person anyway. Starting with her mother and father and ending with Josh, little Joe, and Todd, her love had to be the jinx that snatched them away from her forever.
       She skimmed her hand across the swollen mound of her abdomen. She just couldn't lose this tiny life as well. In the beginning, in an attempt to protect herself from further shattered emotions, Maggie had avoided thinking about the infant growing in her womb, though it never worked as each movement of the little arms and legs made her crave to nestle her child to her breast. The child she and Josh had long ago given up having; the child she never had the chance to tell him about.
       Resolving to concentrate on the future, Maggie shook her head slightly and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She had intended to pack and leave before noon, to drive to a town -- a town big enough to get lost in -- a place where she could breathe.
       Maggie rolled over, pushing up on one elbow. As she shoved the blankets away, a fuzzy warmth pressed against her, and a coarse tongue grazed across her hand. The little silver-gray poodle snuggled closer, whining softly.
       "I've got to find enough energy to get out of here, Cricket," Maggie whispered, running her fingers over the dog's cottony fur. She wasn't a novice at roughing it. If her state of affairs were normal, she would love being here. Nothing was normal. The only term she could think of that fit her situation was Lying Low, and it certainly wasn't normal. She hadn't counted on getting sick, hadn't counted on staying this long. At least the flu, or whatever, was over now, except for feeling as frail as a noodle.
       First a large paw, then a wide black nose appeared beside her on the stone mantle that served as her bed. "Shane," she murmured, caressing the red-gold head nudging her hand. The dog's burnt-sienna eyes gazed steadily at her with a confidence Maggie wished she could feel.
       Eight hundred miles from home just wasn't far enough. Three weeks ago she had left California determined to patch her life back together and get far away from Ken.
       But, while having a flat tire repaired in Vail, Arizona, Maggie had overheard a sheriff inquiring to the garage attendant about her car. He'd stared right at Maggie when he described her as a missing person, seemed to know she was the one he was looking for, but he'd tipped his hat and walked away. The moment the garage attendant finished with the repairs, Maggie drove straight for the mountains, looking for a secluded place to relax for a while, and believing that if no one found her in a day or two, Ken would suspend his search for her. It had to be him; no one else would have the police looking for her.
       Her friends Jacob and Sue might hunt for her, however Jacob Tyler Campbell didn't need any police department when he wanted to locate someone.
       Ignoring her weak limbs, Maggie pushed her legs over the side of her rock bed and scooted to the edge. After straightening her over-sized shirt, and rolling up the bulky sleeves, she shoved her feet into cowhide riding boots.
       Though she hadn't been hungry for several days, she was hungry now.
       "Glory." Maggie smoothed her hair away from her face while her stomach murmured its resentment. "We'll eat, then we're out of here," she mumbled to the dogs, weaving her way to the cave's entrance, and to the food safely stored in a large cooler.
       "The baby -- " She didn't have a spare moment to feel like an overcooked noodle. Not when she desperately needed a place to live and a job to survive. Seven, maybe eight weeks -- there wasn't much time left.
       Shane suddenly growled low and deep in her throat. The powerful Akita's sienna eyes flashed; her red-gold coat rose slightly on the entire length of her spine.
       "Oh Heavens," Maggie whispered, touching the dog's back as she reached the cave entrance. "Now what?"
       Maggie lifted her head and listened to distinctly male voices in boisterous, aggressive shouting that mixed with bellowing cattle and the rumbling vibrations of a truck. She turned and grabbed the shotgun propped against the cooler behind her. Hoisting its solid weight against her, Maggie remembered the first time she fired it; its kick had nearly jarred her off her feet. Josh had warned her how a twelve-gage could push over a five-foot-two lightweight.
       She hurried outside, leaned the gun against the fort-like mass of boulders guarding her shelter and blocking the view of the valley below. She began climbing. Her foot slipped and she latched on to the scraggly brush growing outward from the deep crevasses in the stone. Hampered by rubbery legs, she inched high enough to get her chin past the lowest rock formation. Her heart thundered in her ears, nearly drowning out the noises coming from below the jutting ledge.
       The lovely valley, which had been serene since Maggie arrived, now teemed with activity. She counted four men, one driving a pickup truck and three riding horseback. The men on horses were across the open area below, much closer to her than the one in the truck headed away from the river.
       Two of the mounted men rode back and forth, keeping a herd of cattle together, while the third man rode more slowly and watched from a distance. Precariously leaning over the boulder, she watched as another rider joined the seemingly idle one. That changed her count to five, and the one who had seemed to be resting, now acted like their leader. He rode a black horse in the direction of the other men, waved his arms and appeared to give them orders. Then he disappeared behind immense rocks and thick clumps of brush.
       Because of her altitude, Maggie could hear the rich, deep resonance of his voice but couldn't make out his words. She was alone in the wilderness, and those were the toughest looking men she had ever seen off the TV screen. All she had between them and her were her trusty canines and the damn shotgun that felt as if it weighed as much as she did.
       Maggie slid down from the top of her lookout and peered around the side of the boulder. At least I can still see them, she thought, marveling how the excitement promptly dissolved any frailty she'd been feeling.
       What breed of men would these be? Upright citizens or ruthless thieves? Maybe they were stealing those cattle.
       And, good God, if they were, what would they do to her if they found her? Chills made a round trip on Maggie's spine while her imagination flashed images through her mind. Images she didn't relish -- not one damn bit.
       Too much television, she decided, bolstering her courage. She'd been watching too darned much television. But the thought didn't stop her suspicious foreboding. She would simply stay hidden until they went away.
       Shane snarled, then leaped forward. Maggie made a grab for her collar and missed. The Akita propelled herself down the steep, rocky grade toward the men. Maggie pressed her hand firmly against her lips to keep from yelling at Shane. The dog would have returned immediately on command, but brought with her the handful of men Maggie had no desire to deal with at the moment.
       She sucked in a deep breath and held it. All four riders spotted the dog and headed their horses in her direction. The truck looped into a circle with its tires spinning, then it, as well, raced toward the foothill.
       Shane's bark sounded vicious, but Maggie knew differently.
       Turmoil drove her as she grabbed for the gun. They might think Shane was a wild dog and shoot her.
       "I have to do something and quick," Maggie exclaimed, her voice cracking through her tense vocal cords.
       The confusion and panic made it difficult for her to think straight -- but Shane had rescued her several times -- she had to save Shane.
       There was nothing for it, and it was probably a futile hope, yet she had to try something -- anything -- to stop the men's advance and keep them from hurting Shane. Maggie's stomach muscles gathered into a tight knot as she pulled the heavy shotgun up, then squeezed her eyes tightly shut and fired at the sky overhead.
       The roar of the gun slammed into her eardrums while its thrust drove her forcefully against the wall of the cave. As the vibrating noise in her head subsided, she realized the men's shouting was louder and closer than before.
       Maggie scrambled to her lookout position and climbed upward a couple of feet beside the big boulder.
       After barely registering the roar of another gun, Maggie heard a loud shattering noise, and something smashed into her left shoulder. She squeezed her eyes closed, feeling her body lift from the perch. Just as suddenly her back slapped against the stonewall behind her and air whooshed from her lungs. Opening her eyes and sucking in deep breaths, Maggie struggled to think.
       Her legs stretched out in front of her and she was sitting on the ground. In her attempt to inhale again she discovered it hurt to breathe. Maggie glanced down at the blood oozing through her torn shirt. "This can't be happening." She strained to move, finding her arms and legs useless, lethargically ignoring her commands.
       A man hurried around the dense bushes at the side of the cave and dropped to one knee beside her. His sweat-stained Stetson hat concealed his eyes, but she watched his lips move as he spoke in a soft, deep voice.
       "My, God," he groaned, yanking his hat from his head and tossing it on the ground.
       He must be feeling pain too, she thought dazedly. It seemed as if his remarkable black eyes slowly drew her into their depths.
       Glory. The man, the rocks and trees, everything, spun madly -- Maggie blinked. Everything looked shadowy, getting dark....
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         *Chapter 3*
       Ben Karr knelt beside the injured woman. Not for the first time in his life, he craved to spin the hands of a clock backwards, permitting time an instant replay. The last five minutes had culminated in a full-blown nightmare that shouldn't have happened.
       Her confused hazel eyes searched his face for a moment, her hand lifting, reaching out to him. Ben clasped her hand in his, and when her eyes closed, he slipped his fingers down to locate the pulse in her wrist.
       He shook his head. It was difficult to believe Kyle had caused this much damage in only a matter of seconds; all because he allowed physical reaction to seize command instead of his brain. The young man had leaped from the truck with the rifle, sprinted up the hill, stopped, raised the rifle to his shoulder and fired. Ben had shouted, but he'd been too far away to stop him.
       The horrible result of these grizzly few seconds, was lying half-sprawled on the ground, half leaning against a cold stone wall, and bleeding -- thankfully, not profusely.
       Her pain-filled hazel eyes opened again and studied him as he gently grasped her hand. "Please," she said, her words a gravelly whisper. "Leave me alone -- let me be."
       The terror, which mingled with the suffering in her eyes, was unnerving. "I'm not going to harm you," he said, moving closer to her. I can't do much more damage to you than what's been done already he added to himself, fervently. If he'd been able to move faster, maybe he could have stopped this senselessness.
       The red and blue plaid shirt she wore seemed to engulf her. It had to be a man's; she had large lumps of sleeve rolled to her wrists. He undid three buttons of the shirt and eased it from her wounds while assessing her condition. Quickly stripping off his shirt, he folded it into a thick square, settled it against the woman's shoulder, and applied pressure. Ben cursed himself for not bringing better equipment when he knew he would be several miles from the homestead.
       A deep menacing growl broke the silence. Ben twisted sideways and watched the big dog race toward him with its lip curled back, exposing sharp fangs.
       "That's one ticked-off dog. Should I shoot her?" a voice clipped out from somewhere behind him.
       "No, just wait." Ben talked to the dog, keeping his speech steady, his hands firmly on the woman's shoulder. Closing fast, the dog's obvious intent was to force him to withdraw from the woman. Nevertheless, if he didn't stand or shift suddenly in defense, she might quit, and it was a gamble Ben intended to take.
       A small, gray poodle crawled from the interior of the shadowy cave and onto the woman's out-flung legs, whining mournfully. All of this was getting beyond Ben, and he wondered what else might emerge from the deep recess of the cave.
       The mahogany-colored dog, now only five feet from her target, expelled another loud growl.
       "Shane," the woman said huskily. "No!"
       When Shane slowed her pace instantly, Ben clipped out orders. "Get clean bandages and the medical kit from the truck, Joe. Hurry!"
       "Right, Doc," Joe said, as he vaulted onto his horse, sending it sprinting down the steep, rock-strewn foothill toward the truck.
       The dog stopped three feet from them and dropped to the ground in the tall weeds. She obeyed her mistress, but her muscles remained taunt for attack. Ben released a pent-up breath, relaxing his shoulders as Shane began crawling slowly forward on her belly.
       "Anything you need, boss, just rasp it out," Tim said, as he stopped near Ben and glanced at the injured woman.
       Her expression held a strange peacefulness, while a gentle breeze stirred the strands of auburn hair that curled against her forehead. Ben suspected that at this moment she most likely felt suspended between consciousness and oblivion.
       He looked over his shoulder at Kyle Lockwood, who stood thirty-feet away with his hat smashed against his chest as he stared downward, transfixed. His body stood rigidly, and a rifle drooped toward the ground from his left hand. Ben fought the impulse to seize the rifle and shatter it against a boulder, then start on the man.
       Time spiraled away; time that meant the difference between life and death. Impatience gnawed at Ben by the time he heard Joe's horse come to a sliding stop behind him.
       Joe dismounted quickly, knelt beside Ben and placed two bags of medical supplies on the ground within reach.
       "Got everything here, Doc. What's your plan?" Joe asked, panting.
       "Stop this bleeding and transfer her to the truck," Ben answered softly, letting Joe know it would be a while. With his free hand, Ben rummaged through the kit for thick, sterile-wrapped bandages. He withdrew a package, then yanked a stethoscope from the side pocket and snapped it around his neck.
       "What an incredible mess," Ben mumbled, ripping the package open with his teeth. He replaced his shirt with a sterile bandage.
       He speculated that a large fragment of bullet or rock ricocheted from a stone near her then entered her shoulder, breaking her clavicle, and knocking her backwards. Several shattered particles of rock had pierced her shoulder and breast with force. Some of the fragments had hit her face. Miraculously, he observed, neither eye had an injury.
       Ben nudged the remains of her shirt aside while he moved his hand over her other shoulder, intending to make certain he hadn't missed any injuries.
       "Oh right!" he hissed, running his hand gently across her swollen abdomen. "She's pregnant -- grand, that is just what I needed. Joe," he ordered, keeping his voice low so as not to frighten the woman. "Get Kyle to bring the truck as close as he can. We have to transport her out of here now."
       Ben moved the stethoscope slowly over her abdomen until he found the tiny heartbeat. He breathed easier when he heard it, vigorous, flawless.
       Joe jogged toward the young man who still appeared caught in a trance. "Kyle, haul your butt down there and get the truck," Joe snapped in a low growl. Then he trotted back to Ben, scooped the miniature dog from the woman's legs, and stepped to the cave entrance.
       "I'll check the cave, Doc -- see if I can find out who she is."
       Ben nodded his approval while ripping open another heavy-dressing package. Pregnant -- very pregnant. He hated to even consider what else could happen today.
       Maggie stared groggily at the man, ripping a package open with his teeth. His lean, strong features looked strained.
       "I'm sorry," she murmured, glancing down at Shane who was silently lying near her and almost against the thigh of the man leaning across her.
       "So am I," he answered, as he placed a thick bandage against her shoulder.
       He was close enough she could see the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and breathe in the subtle spicy scent of him. Maggie wanted to touch him, or say something that would remove the anxiety from his expression.
       "I'll be okay -- you know," she said shakily. "It hurts, but not very much -- "
       "Sweetheart," Ben interrupted, "I know better than that. I need to know if you're allergic to anything, then I can give you something to make you feel better." He shifted closer and secured her bandage with tape.
       She attempted not to flinch, but failed. Maggie shook her head slightly. "No, I don't have any allergies."
       "Good," he said. "I'll do my best not to hurt you, but I have to place another bandage across your shoulder to restrict its movement, and I'll have to shift you to do it." His tone lower, deeper than a moment ago, seemed to bolster her courage, and she wished he would just keep talking. At least he was being honest, but she wasn't at all positive she wanted him saying what he planned to do to her.
       "Could you keep talking to me while you do it?" she asked, and watched his lips quirk to one side in a grim smile.
       "Maybe," he said, "it would be better if you talked to me. Tell me about this dog that would give about anything to sink her lovely sharp teeth into me."
       He didn't appear quite as tough or dangerous anymore, instead his eyes emanated gentle compassion, and Maggie tried to return his smile. "Shane is my friend. I've -- Oh glory," she moaned feebly as he secured bandages around her shoulder, while alongside her, Shane growled impressively.
       "Easy, sweetheart -- I'm sorry." Ben touched her cheek. "When I get you all better, I'll allow you to get even with me -- deal?"
       Maggie heard the heavy regret that filled his words, and felt his tenderness as he touched her, but she couldn't answer him; pain had taken her breath away so she nodded slightly. If he wasn't careful, Shane would be the one retaliating, and she might not be capable of speaking loud enough to stop her.
       When he got her all better? Was he a doctor?
       "Why would a doctor be chasing cattle around?" Maggie groaned out weakly. Doctors didn't steal cattle -- did they?
       "It's a good thing I was," Ben muttered, securing another strip of tape.
       While she caught her breath, he reached into the duffel bag beside him, pulled out a bottle of something, and a syringe. It seemed that before she could blink twice, he'd given her a shot she didn't have time to feel.
       Get up. She had to get on her feet. "My baby," she cried. "I can't let anything happen to my baby." Maggie pushed at the man with her right arm, fighting him. He had to go away and leave her alone. If she could just manage to get to her car....
       Ben grasped her hand. "Your baby seems to be doing fine -- right now. The best way for you to help keep it that way is to lie still and let me take care of you." He swallowed down the emotional lump that clogged his throat and added, "You and I, together, can provide safety for the baby."
       His tone hadn't changed, but the look he gave her was uncompromising. The meaning of his words seeped through her frantic anxiety. Did she just imagine he didn't appear tough or dangerous? His dark eyes seemed to penetrate to her soul. Pain seemed to be everywhere. Her entire body hurt, and she didn't have the strength to fight him. She had to explain to him -- "Please," Maggie panted, "just take care of my baby."
       "Both of you," Ben stressed, watching her eyes close. "I'll take care of both of you."
       She was unconscious, finally reacting to the medication he'd given her. Ben understood perfectly what her message was: at all cost, the baby should come first -- but he meant what he told her. He would apply all the skills he had to fulfill his promise.
       "What would the filly be doing here, Boss?" Tim asked softly, shuffling his foot in the dirt.
       Running the same question through his mind for the tenth time, Ben grunted and shook his head. He sure as hell didn't know, but he meant to find out. The only reason anyone other than a ranch employee would have for being here would be stealing cattle. He looked at her slight figure heavy with child. And she certainly didn't qualify.
       "I found a station wagon down there, Boss, and a utility trailer. Keys are in the vehicle. They've been there so long that the tracks in the weeds leading to'em are hard to find," Cliff said, coming to stand beside Ben. "Car plates say California."
       "Thanks, Cliff," Ben said, feeling more confused than ever. "Help Joe search the cave. We need to know who she is."
       Ben turned his head toward the another man. "Tim, see what you can do about these dogs."
       He shifted back to the injured woman and peered closely at her delicate, white face. Lord, how beguiling and child-like she looked, with her long lashes resting on her flushed cheeks, and not at all resembling anyone he would find in the middle of extremely rough country. Who was she, and why was she here? They were at least fifteen miles from what he would term a municipal roadway. La Vista didn't get much tourism, neither did their back roads.
       More unanswered questions filled his mind as he reached out to touch her. His heart thumped strongly against his chest. The only experience in his thirty-seven years that surpassed what he felt this minute, was his stint in the special forces. The afternoon's sudden events were undeniably battle fatigue material. The domino theory in its full, chain-reacting glory, he thought, brushing the thick, auburn curls away from her cheek.
       Ben had stuffed the last of his equipment into his medical kit when Joe wandered out of the cave and knelt alongside him.
       "I found a purse inside, Doc." He motioned at the woman loosely with his hand. "All I located with a possible name for her, is a key chain with 'Maggie' written on it. I also found a small photo of a man and a couple of boys laying on some blankets. That was it. No drivers license, no credit cards -- hardly anything but the keys and what looks to be a lot of money." With a heavy grunt, Joe stood up, seized his hat from his head and dusted it against his knee. "Cliff wants to search the area some more. Says he'll rummage through the car next, then he'll drive it back to the ranch." Joe's voice sounded tired, as if he had worked to his limit.
       Ben thrust his hands through his hair and groaned inwardly. Yeah, well -- he could sympathize; he was feeling pressure tantamount to five straight hours of surgery. "Thanks, Joe. I'm ready to transfer her to the truck, so let's do it."
       Maggie, he thought, as he carefully lifted her into his arms and shoved to his feet. The name had a delicate sound he liked; he liked it very much.
       The warmth and softness of her little body pressed closely against his bare chest released the fiercely protective instinct Ben always felt for the injured, human or otherwise, and he tightened his grip. Digging his boot heels in solidly with each step, he moved ahead down the steep incline.
       If he'd just had an IV with him -- it was essential -- Hell, he hated it when hindsight seemed clearer than foresight.
       And the baby.... It already seemed like an awfully long drive to his clinic. "Blazes," Ben blurted, as his foot slipped sideways.
       "Easy, Doc, just take it slow and easy," Joe said calmly from close behind as he flattened his hand on Ben's back supportively.
       Curious cattle surrounded the pickup. They milled nervously when Ben walked past a boulder and suddenly into their sight. Give him a helicopter; decidedly, the only way to travel in an emergency. If he had his chopper right now, they would be at the hospital in half the time.
       Joe hurried to get around Ben as they approached the truck and opened the door. "Doc, the ears for the truck didn't get fixed. Sure could have used it," he said anxiously.
       A rotund cow scrambled out of his way when Ben stepped closer to the truck. "It's okay, Joe. We can't expect everything to go our way," he said, trying to reassure Joe. The truck's radio was the least of his worries. Since the radio wasn't working, the sheriff knew to come after him in a helicopter if any emergency arose at the small clinic/hospital. With his partner on vacation, Ben made certain someone could always reach him -- one way or another.
       "You'll have to hold her until I'm in." Ben gently transferred Maggie to Joe's arms.
       He studied Joe's face as he climbed into the truck and breathed a relieved sigh. Because Joe's wife Cheryl worked as the hospital's head nurse, and because of Joe's exposure to hospital routine, he'd seen enough to be an old hand at observing injuries. At least Ben didn't have to worry about his driver feeling faint on the way to the hospital.
       When Ben signaled his readiness, Joe eased Maggie onto his lap. "Get us going, Joe. We're wasting precious time," Ben warned quietly. He moved his fingers across Maggie's cheek and felt the cold dampness of her skin.
       Joe climbed into the truck, slammed the door, and gunned the engine. "We got company in the back, Doc."
       Shane shoved her heavy body against the rear window of the truck. Her golden eyes seemed to blaze holes right through Ben. "Forget her, Joe, and get going." Somehow Shane had escaped from Tim; he hoped it wasn't by the forceful application of her teeth.
       Joe tromped the gas pedal. "Hang on, Doc. We'll be there in a jiffy." The truck jerked forward immediately as Joe sent it cutting across the rocky ground in the direction of town.
       Ben settled himself back, trying to cushion Maggie from the rough jaunt. She stirred slightly while a feeble moan vibrated from deep within her. When Ben lifted his glance, he found her beautiful hazel eyes, swimming with tears and watching him closely. They seemed to plead with him, and her lips trembled.
       Where is this man taking me? He was probably dragging her to a town. "I -- I must get out of here," Maggie whispered, bringing her right arm forward until her palm was resting on his bare chest. "Ken -- I don't want him to fi...." Maggie words faded out as she realized he would never understand. "Please -- leave me alone...."
       "Easy, sweetheart, I want to help. Tell me where you came from and why you're here -- the name of a relative."
       His tone was restful, and his dark eyes serious as he clasped her fingers loosely in his. She allowed him to position her hand back against his chest and gently, soothingly, massage her fingers.
       "Oh, no," Maggie said shakily. "Ken would find out -- " She tried to squirm away from him, remembering she shouldn't talk about Ken, and the thought of seeing him again adding strength to her desperation.
       Lying low, she thought, and said the best word she could come up with, "Camping -- I was camping."
       Ben touched her cheek softly, attempting to soothe her apparent anxiety. "Okay, Maggie, it's okay. We won't report anything to Ken." Whoever the hell that was.
       She stared at him. Did he mean that? -- or was he merely placating her? He didn't look as if he were lying. If anything, he had warm, trustworthy eyes.
       Glory, she wanted to forget everything, to sleep. As Maggie's eyes slipped shut, she snuggled closer to Ben.
       Her shoulder length hair lay tangled against his arm, her face scraped and bruised on one side and dirt smudged across the other, but being able to watch the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed was the most comforting sight Ben had seen in a long time.
       She clearly appeared agitated, maybe scared to death covered it better, with the idea he might summon this Ken person. Whoever he was, she seemed determined to keep him away. Even in her state of shock and pain, Ken caused her grave concern, and her word "camping" sounded like a last-ditch attempt to convince Ben that he should leave her alone.
       Ben rested his head back against the seat, closed his eyes, and stifled a yawn. When they reached the hospital, he would have to ignore the tiredness which seeped heavily through his bones. He would need every ounce of energy he could come up with.
       Twenty minutes later Joe throttled the truck down, and Ben glanced out the windshield to find out why. The red-tiled roof of the Spanish-style clinic was visible as they skidded around the corner.
       Ben's adrenaline started pumping anew.
       "Good work, Joe," he said, sitting up straighter. At least now he would have the equipment and extra pairs of hands he needed.
       "Never been happier to see this place," Joe said, guiding the truck onto the circular drive at the hospital's emergency entrance.
       "You and me, both," Ben agreed meaningfully, as he knocked the latch on the door with his elbow. "When we get inside, Joe, find Cheryl, and fill her in on what happened while she pulls two other nurses from the floor. I want them in surgery, STAT."
       With Maggie held securely against him, Ben swung his legs out of the truck before it stopped rolling. When his feet hit the ground, he turned toward the dog in the back of the truck precisely as she settled her front paws on the top edge of the truck bed. "Stay!" he commanded, and the dog backed up and sat down. He swung around and advanced quickly toward the cream-colored adobe arch which shaded the emergency entrance.
       As he shouldered through the inner doors, he thought of his partner James, whose special love was obstetrics and gynecology. "Really wish you were here, good buddy, instead of off fishing somewhere," he muttered, adjusting Maggie more comfortably in his arms. When Ben left on vacation things ran normally, but the hospital always seemed to escalate into fourth-gear action the minute James went beyond reach.
--------
         *Chapter 4*
       The haze heavily veiled everything, but Maggie heard a rustling sound somewhere on the other side of the curtain, and she had to find out what was causing it.
       As she turned her head slightly a piercing spasm of pain forced a cry through her parched throat. This couldn't be heaven. There wouldn't be all this hurting in heaven ... would there? Nor would there be the sharp aroma of disinfectant that assailed her nostrils.
       The hurt had struck with such suddenness that now she didn't want to open her eyes, but there didn't seem to be a choice. The need to know what was happening overcame her desire for unconsciousness, and Maggie opened her eyes to slits. Like a sentinel, a plastic bag hung above with a tube weaving crookedly down toward her.
       Maggie lay the back of her hand on her forehead and concentrated on breathing. Since she'd awakened gulping in air, the harsh movement of her chest added considerably to the pain. The noise of her heart in her ears sounded like a whooshing, thudding, tidal wave hitting a steep cliff on the California coast.
       Count slowly, she instructed herself. Take one little breath at a time. She glanced upward and looked at a tall man with dark eyes who seemed vaguely familiar.
       Concentrating seemed impossible. Truthfully, she didn't want to concentrate.
       What Maggie wanted was to remove the heavy weight on her left shoulder where the agony increased with each breath, then return to the sweet, dark oblivion. What could be pressing on her like that? She moved her hand, inching her fingers toward her shoulder until her fingers came in contact with a chunky dressing. Well, at least now she knew what the weight was, though she couldn't remember why.
       The tall man was filling a syringe -- his handsome face didn't look very happy. Deep lines etched near his mouth and a grave expression filled his eyes. He pivoted as a nurse entered the room and handed him something before she walked to the other side of the bed and out of Maggie's sight.
       She should ask, who are you? -- what's happening to me? But it would mean opening her mouth to talk. It would also involve taking a deep breath -- no way. She really should take the risk. Maybe it wouldn't be as unpleasant as she thought it would.
       As if he could read her mind, he leaned slightly toward her and said, "Don't try to talk, Maggie. I am going to give you something to ease your pain."
       The deepness of the voice slipped pleasantly through her, soothing, and somehow giving her strength.
       Maggie concentrated on the man's movements and what he was doing. It was very restful to watch his smooth, efficient actions, and although his hands looked big, they moved gracefully, and without hesitation. Those hands know exactly what they need to do, she decided groggily.
       She wanted, somehow, to lighten the tension surrounding him. "You truly need to smile ... someone ought to make you smile," she murmured thickly.
         * * * *
       Do I really look that bad? he thought dubiously.
       Ben complied, smiling at her. "By ancient rule of decree, but mostly behind my back, I'm called ol' Stony Face," he informed her. "But, for you, I'll ruin my reputation and break the rule." In his peripheral vision, he could see Cheryl nod her head with a wicked grin on her face. He would talk to her later.
       When he'd heard Maggie's cry and realized she was conscious, the tenseness that always knotted in him during emergency situations slackened. Reason number one why he never had the slightest desire to be an emergency room doctor; he would have an ulcer in a week. One thing for certain, he couldn't seem to learn the antidote for the subjective involvement that constantly snared him into trouble. Nor could Ben find "just say no" in his vocabulary.
       Ben shifted his position closer to Maggie. Her eyes sparkled with tears, and her expression told him of her misery. Even at that, her small chin conveyed a posture of determination and bravery he found impressive.
       Her wounds were familiar to him. He understood what she had to be feeling physically, knew intimately the apprehension that went with those feelings, but being so slight, so feminine, and so very pregnant had to be adding emotions he couldn't begin to fathom.
       A few minutes ago the La Vista sheriff called and said he'd used the plates from her car to come up with a little more information: Maggie Rand, thirty-two years old, and an address in Sunnyville, California. It was unfortunate her husband's name hadn't been on the information, but at least it shouldn't be long before they would notify him. Then her family could come to support her through the suffering and anxiety period.
       The photograph album he found in her utility trailer suggested that Maggie had a husband and two sons somewhere in California. The man in the photos looked familiar; however, Ben couldn't imagine where he might have met him.
       What they had found in that trailer was meager. The camping equipment went with her explanation for being on his land, but the typewriter, dishes and other things confused him. She was pregnant; yet there were only a few maternity clothes, and the other clothing appeared more fitting for a woman going to work in an office than an outdoor vacation.
       Camping might have been what she said, but Ben didn't believe for oneminute that Maggie really planned to be there. There had to be another reason -- 
       "What the hell was she doing there?" Ben muttered as he took her blood pressure and added pain medication to the IV. He found nothing in her possessions about anyone named Ken, and nothing that could be a rationale for hiding in a cave.
       He stared with interest at her left hand. She wore no rings; only the faded white line on her finger indicated it wasn't that long ago she'd removed them. A pregnant woman, and he didn't consider that to be a disability or degenerative disease, alone in a remote cave in the mountains with two dogs, a shotgun -- a typewriter and dishes for Pete's sake. For now, his over-active curiosity and the pride he had in his ability to assess a situation correctly took a considerable licking; however, he wasn't one to surrender easily.
       Pacing back and forth, Ben shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. It was just too blasted bad the dogs couldn't talk. It would all be perfectly elementary. He would give them each a beer, they would sit down in front of a good football game, and by halftime they would have this whole, riddle-filled predicament straightened out.
       He glanced across the bed at Cheryl who was eyeing him with one eyebrow lifted.
       Cheryl spoke calmly. "Ben, if you don't stop that pacing, we'll have to replace the floor in here."
       Ben smiled and shrugged as he lifted the stethoscope from his neck and stuffed it in the pocket of his white jacket.
       "Ben," Cheryl said softly, waiting until his attention was on her again before she went on, "I need to complete rounds and finish the charting on the other patients."
       Ben waved his hand in dismissal. "Go ahead. There isn't any more for you to do in here for awhile."
       She headed for the door.
       "Oh, and please check on the little one in the nursery. Tell Carole that I want an hourly update on him."
       Cheryl nodded and withdrew from the room.
         * * * *
       Because she was unable to keep track of the two people who kept wandering around her room and because she felt miserably uncomfortable, Maggie wiggled, bending her knees and moaning faintly.
       "Take it easy, sweetheart. Maggie, you're in the La Vista hospital," Ben explained, trying to orient her to her surroundings. "You've had surgery and everything is progressing well. Right now, we need you to help us, help you." Leaning closer, he continued. "You are going to need several weeks of mending, but you'll get better much faster if we work together."
       She just had to be in the middle of a horrible fantasy. "Yes -- No! I don't want to be here. Please -- " She couldn't tell from his appearance whether or not this man could understand. Her mouth felt as dry as a hundred-year-old marshmallow and the words sounded garbled to her own ears.
       With sheer willpower, she focused on a watercolor painting that hung against the light-blue walls behind the man, inhaled slowly, and tried again. "Who are you?"
       "I'm Doctor Ben Karr, Maggie, but some of my patients call me 'Medicine man.'"
       He sat down on the edge of her bed. "Is your husband's name Ken, Maggie?"
       "No!" she exclaimed hoarsely. Tears penetrated her eyes as a sharpness stabbed in her shoulder. The last time she saw Ken, he'd gone from charming and sympathetic to insinuating that she could go to prison if she didn't do exactly what he wanted. She didn't want to hear his name, and she didn't want to see his face.
       "Where is your husband, Maggie? We would like to call him for you -- "
       "Please, stop," she blurted, interrupting him. "You have to stop." Maggie pinched her eyes shut and turned her head away from the voice and the man who sat beside her on the bed. She would ignore him -- if he would just leave her alone.
       Josh is gone, she wanted to scream at him. He deserted me and took my babies along with him. She'd wrapped her life around them so totally that when they died, the purpose for her existence tumbled into a vacuum. Sue and J.T. had given support the best they could, although they seemed completely blinded by Ken's charm. Nevertheless, not having any other living relatives made her world falling apart harder to bear. It was the flicker of another life nestled in her womb that gave her the strength and resolve to climb above the emptiness.
       Ben stood up. "All right, Maggie. Rest," he said. "I've given you medication to relax you. We'll discuss this later when pain isn't making it difficult for you."
       "Thank you," she mumbled, closing her eyes. She was aware of him being close by, though she was too tired to care.
         * * * *
       After studying Maggie's pale features, assuring himself that she was resting as comfortably as possible, Ben sat down in a cushioned, high-backed chair situated a few feet away from the bed.
       "Lord," he sighed huskily. Maggie's surgery had taken several hours. But he felt pleased with the primary repairs he accomplished. Later, if she wanted, a specialist could eliminate her scars.
       He leaned his head back on the chair. Outside, a large helicopter flew over the top of the hospital. Probably military, he thought, rubbing his left shoulder. Dammit, every time he heard a chopper that big, his shoulder ached, and he could almost hear the guns and mortars blasting -- feel the vibrating impact.
       "Lord," he mumbled again, closing his eyes. It took exactly six months of military hospitals for him to create a strict ruling that when he became a doctor, he would never push, prod, or play psychological games with his patients. He'd seen too many men become totally incoherent from similar experimentation. The power of suggestion was too explosive to gamble with. Individuals of science had a way of never knowing when to leave well enough alone; the same people would have the temerity to look astonished when a man picked up a gun and started shooting everything in sight. The mental experiments used on the Nam vets was the reason his father had turned away from medicine and back to his heritage of ranching.
       A sudden beep from the monitoring machine brought Ben's sober reflections back to the case at hand.
       He got up to check the equipment attached to Maggie's abdomen. He worried about the baby. The danger was in the shock Maggie had experienced; however, the fetus sounded strong and healthy.
       This wasn't the only infant he worried about. The future didn't look very bright for the tiny little orphan in the nursery.
         * * * *
       Maggie kept her eyes closed, but she could hear all that went on around her. That voice spoke intently a couple of times, and it seemed to be calling on the Lord a lot.
       Was she dying?
       She opened her eyes and saw the Medicine Man, flicking and twisting knobs and switches on the equipment near the bed. After studying him for a moment, she looked at the small photo on the bed stand and wanted to reach for it, touch it. Josh and the boys smiled at her, and she could feel their presence. They were giving her comfort and telling her everything would be okay. "I know you're here," she murmured.
       This has to be a dream -- but the way her shoulder and chest throbbed, it was awfully real. Glory to heaven! If the pain comes with the dream, please let me wake up.
       She couldn't stand the withered dryness in her mouth any longer, and the painting on the wall pictured a parched desert that wasn't helping a bit. Would they let her drink anything? "Please," she slurred, her tongue catching at the roof of her mouth. "I'm so thirsty."
       Ben scooped some ice chips from a cup on the bed stand and placed them between her lips. "I can't give you much yet, sweetheart, but you can suck on ice as long as it agrees with you."
       She sighed her thanks and watched as he flipped a couple of switches on the machine. "My baby?" she asked, struggling to concentrate. "How is my baby?"
       "So far, everything about the baby is excellent." He gestured toward the large, square machine near her bed. "We are keeping your little one monitored, and this equipment lets us know the baby's heartbeat is strong and normal."
       With slow jerky movements, she skimmed her hand slowly across her abdomen until her fingers touched the monitor leads attached to a wide strap fastened around her. She had started her trip with enough money to cover the cost of a place to live for several months and to have the baby. She'd counted on finding employment, only with all this happening -- "Please," she said hopelessly. "Please, leave me alone -- let me die." Her last three words were a habit she'd developed and used whenever frustration got the better of her. She had no idea of the effect they would have on her listener.
       Maggie sighed weakly, shaking her head. "I have to get out of here," she whispered, closing her eyes.
       As Ben watched Maggie Rand surrender completely to the medication, her emotionally breathed words carved through him like a well-honed scalpel. It was the look in her eyes that was the shocker, the not wanting or caring to live that had flashed in her eyes.
       No wonder he had such a fight getting her to respond to treatment. She wasn't helping him. She wasn't fighting for life, and the child she carried was most likely the only part of her determined to survive.
       But -- she asked about the baby. Maggie had been distraught until he'd reassured her that the little one was okay. If she wanted to die, why would she care about the baby? Each time one of his questions appeared explained at least one of her actions seemed to negate it.
       Ben listened as one of the nurses called his name over the PA system with a request for him to come to the front desk, then headed for the door.
       He walked quickly down the hall while more baffling thoughts twisted around in his mind. Had Maggie been running from her husband? Definitely, if his name were Ken. Except, she denied that.
       Maggie Rand needed her family; and the way things looked he might have to call every police department in the midsection of California to locate them.
--------
         *Chapter 5*
       Ten minutes later Ben stopped at the nursing station and plunked two charts down in front of Cheryl Webb, who was leaning against the elongated counter.
       Cheryl straightened. "Doctor," she said, impaling him with her green-eyed stare, "do you want to discuss anything before you explode?"
       Head nurse stuck out all over her. Ben deliberately quirked one eyebrow upward, hoping to look intimidating. "Do you consider your new nurses to be in some sort of imminent danger?"
       "Well," she drew out, and her expression wasn't the least bit daunted. "In evaluating how you've been stomping around here, and," she glanced purposefully at his head, "from the way you've been treating your hair, I would say there might be a possibility you could scare my nurses out the front door screaming in terror."
       "We wouldn't want that, now would we?" he growled, eyeing her with his best boss expression, but he was fully aware it wouldn't work.
       "Not unless you would relish helping to empty bedpans or taking temperatures. The list is extensive, do you want me to elaborate on it?"
       "You certainly know how to define a point with finesse, Mrs. Webb," he said, shaking his head. "How did I get saddled with such a mouthy nurse?"
       "Watch it, Doctor," Cheryl warned, moving away from the desk. "Remember, you depend on my husband to work for you."
       He chuckled. "That, nurse, is leaning toward high-pressure tactics," he said to her back as she hurried away to answer the phone in his office. The place would be a definite disaster if Cheryl weren't there to keep the peace and motivate the troops.
       "You're probably right," she said over her shoulder as she disappeared through the doorway.
       He was turning to go in the direction of the nursery when Cheryl rushed out of the office.
       "Phone, Ben. There's a woman on the line who says she knows Maggie Rand."
       "Keep watch on her, Cheryl." Ben gestured toward Maggie's room three doors down the hall. "I don't think she's fighting for life. Her behavior indicates a need to monitor her every half hour."
       Nodding, Cheryl picked up her stethoscope from the counter and hurried across the hall as Ben stepped into his office.
       With any luck, this would be a family member. He picked up the receiver. "Doctor Karr here," he said quietly. The woman's voice on the other end sounded upset. She introduced herself as Sue Campbell.
       "Yes, Mrs. Campbell, what can I do to help you?" he asked, pacing to the end of the phone cord.
       "The police were here asking about Maggie, Doctor Karr. They gave me your name and phone number. They said you have her.
       "What on earth is going on? She has been missing for almost a month, and we've been frantic with worry." Mrs. Campbell sounded anxiously concerned yet restrained as if she were weary.
       Ben walked around the desk to his chair, sat down, and pulled a sheet of paper in front of him. "Mrs. Campbell, are you a member of Maggie's family?"
       "No. I'm a close friend."
       "We need to reach her family as soon as possible. Along with her injuries, Maggie appears depressed, giving up, and family support is usually the best medicine."
       He heard only silence on the phone for a moment. "Mrs. Campbell if -- "
       "At the beginning of the year, Maggie had a terrible loss, Doctor," Sue interrupted him in a choked whisper. "But she seemed to be handling it well after the first weeks of shock. She wasn't afraid to show grief, or say what she intended to do about it. You must be mistaken. I can't imagine her giving up -- she has always been strong-willed."
       "What kind of loss?" Ben asked, stifling his impatience. He hoped Sue Campbell's words were accurate, and Maggie really harbored a strong-will underneath the anguish she'd shown him. Only time would tell, and he didn't want to waste any on speculation.
       "It's painful to talk about, but I'll try." Sue cleared her throat. "Maggie and her husband Josh separated a year and a half ago. It wasn't Maggie's idea, and I don't think she thought the separation would last as long as it did. Anyway, Josh would come on weekends and take the boys out. That last weekend -- That last weekend in January he took them camping, and he and the boys all died in an accident on their way home," Sue finished with a rush. "Josh had asked Maggie to go along," she added quickly. "But, she wasn't feeling well, and, thank God, she didn't go or we would have lost her too."
       "Does she have any other relatives?" Ben asked, the impact of Sue's words piercing his mind.
       "I'm fairly certain she has no other relatives, and neither did Josh. When Maggie discovered she was pregnant, she started building all her hopes for the future around the baby." Sue's voice lifted to panicky wail. "Oh, Doctor, is the baby -- ?"
       "It's all right, Mrs. Campbell, Maggie's still carrying her child." Ben stood up and rubbed the back of his neck as he paced back and forth in front of the large windows behind his desk. At present, Maggie's life swung in a delicate balance with her injuries and shock; now that he'd learned the depth of her mental pain, his ability to help her seemed likened to an artist carving on a brittle stone: make one mistake and everything could crumble.
       He stopped pacing. "Have you any idea how or why Maggie ended up here?"
       When Sue didn't answer straight away, Ben prompted her as he dropped onto his chair and rested his elbows on the polished surface of the desk. "You said Josh was Maggie's husband, yet Maggie has called the name Ken when she was both conscious and unconscious, and each time she sounded frightened of him."
       Ben listened while Sue explained that Kenneth Remley was a lawyer and Joshua Rand's boss. Sue didn't know him well herself, but she knew that Remley had taken most of Maggie's money to pay some sort of debts her husband had accrued. However, Maggie couldn't understand how Josh could have been heavily in debt and her not know anything about it.
       "Then a few weeks ago, Maggie became angry with Remley," Sue continued. "Although it wouldn't be typical of Maggie, Jacob and I thought maybe she was taking her distress out on Ken. He wasn't the one who left her with the financial burdens, and tragedy can make people behave differently. Anyway, I stopped by her house and asked her if she and Remley were getting along better. Maggie started to say something, then became short fused with me so I left."
       "Go on, please," Ben urged as he heard Sue taking in a deep, steadying breath.
       "When I finally realized how foolishly I had let a stranger come between us, let him interfere with our trust and friendship, I went back to apologize and listen. But Maggie was gone. I have no idea why Maggie is there, Doctor. I only know something was off kilter, and I didn't listen. It all seems impossible. Maggie has never lied to me, yet she told me she had arranged to move into an apartment, but after she vanished, I found out she really hadn't."
         * * * *
       In Sunnyville, California, Sue Campbell rested the receiver back in its cradle, wondering for the hundredth time how she could have been so dense with Maggie. Perhaps the death of Maggie's family had affected them both so severely it blocked their ability to communicate.
       But something was absolutely crazy!
       "Maggie is in Arizona, Jacob," she said, turning toward him. "She was shot by some cowboy out in the boonies. Can you believe that? And, why would she go to Arizona?" She drew a deep breath. "Anyway, according to Doctor Karr, Maggie's not doing well."
       Tears trickled over her cheeks as Jacob crossed the living room to join her. "Why couldn't you have found her before all this happened? None of this seems possible -- it's darned confusing and not at all like Maggie."
       "She must have been remotely hidden," Jacob said, pulling Sue to rest against his broad chest, and she welcomed the way his large hands rotated comfortingly on her spine. "You know I would have found her if she'd stayed around people. But you're smack on target, Babe. With her house sold she had to move, but Maggie is too intelligent to leave town without a really good reason. I know she's always loved the outdoors, but I can't believe she would choose isolation for the hell of it. She'd have told us. Something or someone pushed her all the way to Arizona."
       Sue tipped her head back and looked up into his deep-blue eyes. "The doctor said she's been saying Ken Remley's name and that she was afraid of him. What could he have done to her?" Sue never liked the man, and wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I thought from the suave way he solaced and sympathized and arranged financially for her after Josh died that he was her friend. Plus, he's been calling here every few days to ask if we've heard from her." Sue pushed away a few inches as she realized Ken Remley might not be the scrupulous lawyer he wanted everyone to believe. "He always sounds deeply concerned on the phone."
       Maybe her practice of being a sounding board for Jacob was making her unduly suspicious. But now that she thought about it, when it had come time to make funeral arrangements while Maggie remained in the hospital, the charming, chivalrous Kenneth Remley had stayed totally out of sight.
       Jacob kissed the tears from Sue's eyes, and her pulse surged at his gentleness as his deep intonation rumbled against the palms of her hands. "Didn't you tell me Maggie felt confused about ol' Ken and how he was handling her affairs?" As he continued, Sue nodded and accepted the handkerchief he'd slipped from his pocket and held out to her. "I know we thought Maggie's stress was making her behave strangely, but concern may have kept us from understanding what was actually happening."
       Jacob rubbed a hand across his chin, then tugged Sue closer to him, resting the side of his face against her hair. "I believe it's time I initiate a sleuth job on Mr. Remley, because my gut instinct tells me that if I wait for Maggie to ask, I'll have waited too long."
       Sue nestled her forehead on his chest, reveling in the strength of his arms enveloping her. At five-foot-one, her head barely reached its resting place on his six-four stature. "You're probably right," she said. "Your 'gut instinct' has a perfect record." She whispered, "I'm so worried about her."
       "Maybe you'd better go see her," Jacob said, nuzzling her neck with warm, inviting kisses.
       Sue trembled, enjoying the promise in his touch. "Doctor Karr asked me to wait until she's improved some. He promised to call and give us reports on how she's doing."
       "Whenever you're ready, Babe, just let me know. Meanwhile, if Remley calls, do your damnedest to keep him uninformed about Maggie. I need a little more time before he discovers where she is. You know I care about Maggie as much as you do, so do me a favor and try to relax. We'll help her."
       "Thank you," she murmured, standing on her toes and gliding her hands upward until they met and clasped behind Jacob's neck. His hands moved, too, disposing of the pins that were holding her waist-length hair in its French knot.
       "Where are the kids?" he groaned against her mouth.
       Sue unbuttoned his shirt and slid her hand inside next to his heart. "They walked up to your mom's house to make cookies." Jacob's mother was a miracle of love and faith, and after she managed living two years longer than the six doctors had predicted, Abby Campbell dedicated herself to seeing that Jacob and Sue got back together.
       Jacob lifted Sue into his arms and sauntered toward the hallway and their bedroom. "When do you expect them home?"
       "We've got a couple of hours for a serious family discussion," Sue said, lowering her tone in anticipation. A look, a touch, and he could create a potent hunger in her every time. It was hard to remember one day of the eighteen months' she'd foolishly tried to live without him.
       "Good," Jacob said, kicking the door shut. "Serious discussions need at least a couple of hours."
         * * * *
       After getting Sue Campbell's phone number and promising to call her with reports on Maggie's progress, Ben hung up the receiver, slowly pushed himself back in his chair, and lit one of the three cigarettes he allowed himself.
       Maggie Rand had been through plenty of hell before she came here to experience more.
       Would the loss of her family be the reason she was lying there, willing her heart to stop?
       Probably. He answered his own question and crushed out his cigarette.
       He had to do something, and it had best be soon.
       What? At this time in his life he still wasn't any more tolerant of unsolved questions than he'd been as a five-year old. He wanted answers. When he met with a challenge, he always felt compelled to tackle it, and this encounter was no different.
       The only decent idea he had, was to have Doctor Clive take over Maggie's care until James returned. That way he would be free to be a friend instead of a physician. He wouldn't have a choice about being surgical consultant, but Maggie Rand needed a friend, and he liked the idea of filling that position. Plus, with Clive and Cheryl setting up medical action for Maggie, he could concentrate more on the tiny orphan in the incubator.
       Every time he held that baby, and visualized what the future might be for him, Ben longed for someone other than a housekeeper to go home to. Someone who would talk and listen; someone to share lows and highs with. There was always the beautiful Victoria. They were going out to dinner tonight -- hell, if he talked to her about patients, she would most likely stuff him in the nearest trashcan.
       Still uneasy about his decisions, he lifted the phone receiver. And after conferring with Doctor Clive and establishing temporary care for Maggie, Ben entered the nursing desk area and fingered through the charts. The small hospital had forty beds, and about one-third of them were occupied. In the nearest rooms were a couple of appendectomies, a cowboy supporting a broken leg, and they all required a visit. At the other end of the corridor were two children with the flu, one with a concussion from a fall out of a tree, and four new mothers with their babies.
       He would start with the cowhand and face the new mothers last. Maybe by the time he got around to them he would be calmer and more controlled and the gruffness would be gone from his voice.
         * * * *
       When Ben returned to his office an hour later, Kyle Lockwood was waiting for him. Kyle brushed his hat back and forth against his jeans as he looked at the floor.
       "Hello Kyle -- are you okay?" The words came out sharper and with more anger than Ben meant to sound. The young man's trigger finger provoked many emotions in Ben; mostly furious ones that he had to keep in check.
       "Yeah, Boss, I'm fine. I came to see how the lady is doing," Kyle said in an easy drawl.
       Clearly, Kyle was suffering. He wasn't insensitive; he just didn't think before acting. Ben hoped the incident would add some maturity and wisdom to his age. Evidently, since it took courage for Kyle to come today, he'd learned something important already.
       Ben motioned for Kyle to come into the office. "I'm considering her to be in critical condition, Kyle. Her body has reacted to her wounds with shock and imbalance, plus there are emotional stresses we're just discovering. Wanting to get better is a major necessity in the healing process. We're doing our best to keep her and the baby alive." Ben couldn't pull any punches with the facts, but he didn't want to cause a breakdown in Kyle by allowing his own emotions to interfere.
       "Baby!" Kyle exclaimed as he jerked his head upward and twisted his hat nervously between his hands.
       Kyle's eyes were red; his young face pinched and pale under his tan; his mouth tightly compressed, trembling. Ben shoved a hand in his pocket; he was right about not being overly hard on this young man.
       "Baby," Kyle said again, his voice cracking as he breathed the word. His eyes filled with tears, and he spun away from Ben. "I didn't even know. I didn't even know."
       Ben had considered firing Kyle, even discussed it with Joe, but he decided to follow an unwritten code: a man could make a mistake, as long as he didn't repeat it. Kyle Lockwood straddled a thin line.
       "So far, the baby appears to be strong, but it has taken a beating," Ben said quietly, walking to the side of his desk.
       Kyle's pallor heightened significantly, and Ben took action. "Sit down, Kyle, before you fall down."
       Kyle dropped onto the chair closest to him. "This here boy is twenty-one, boss -- but about as smart as twelve. When I heard that gun blast, I figured someone was shooting at us, and I just blasted back. No thought, all pure reaction," Kyle explained sadly.
       "I know," Ben said gently. "Even though Mrs. Rand fired at the sky, the sheriff and the judge are letting it go for now as self-defense." He put his hand on Kyle's shoulder. "You'll just have to wait and see if Mrs. Rand files any charges. For now, the main concern here is keeping her alive."
       "Please, Boss, don't let her die. I could never live with it if she died," Kyle choked out, wiping a sleeve across his eyes. "Such a little thing -- she's such a little thing."
       "Relax here for a few minutes, Kyle, then I want you to go back to the ranch and get to work. I will keep you posted, and the work will help time pass."
       "Yes, sir," Kyle said, as he heaved himself up from the chair. "Thanks for listening, Boss. I'd just a'soon go ahead and leave now. I'm okay."
       Ben nodded his approval and watched Kyle walk out of the office. From the way Kyle looked, Ben hoped Maggie would get better fast or he would have another patient on his hands.
       "Doctor Gray, please come to room 103." Cheryl's familiar tones crackled over the hospital PA system and echoed through the corridor.
       Without hesitation, Ben sprinted down the hall. Doctor Gray named the code for a critical situation, and 103 was Maggie's room.
       This could turn out to be a remarkably long day.
--------
         *Chapter 6*
       Ben plummeted through the door marked 103 and headed for Maggie's bed as he listened to Cheryl rasp out blood pressure, pulse and respiration information.
       "All of her vital signs changed in a five-minute period," Cheryl continued. "Her skin color became bluish around her mouth and fingers, and I put her on oxygen."
       Ben flipped his stethoscope to his ears and made a quick examination. Maggie's heart beat rapidly but it sounded strong. He turned to the monitor read-out and clasped the computer paper, which was tapping out the side. He snapped out directions to Cheryl, who was already halfway to the door.
       As Cheryl reached the door, she turned to him. "I can't be positive, Ben, but seconds before things started going wrong I think Maggie murmured something about wanting to die. Her words were muffled and unclear. Because of what you've told me, I could be hearing things."
       Ben turned the volume up on the console, filling the room with the wondrous sounds of the beating heart and swishing movements of the infant it monitored. "Maybe, but I imagine you heard right. Just call Doc Clive, then hurry with the medication. We'll discuss it later." He hadn't had a chance to say anything to Cheryl about his conversation with Sue. When he did, it would be where they could sit and work out solutions.
       Maggie uttered a soft cry that sounded miles away, and it chilled through his body.
       As unethical as it was, Ben wanted to shake her until she opened her lovely hazel eyes. Instead, he caressed her cheek and brushed at a stray lock of auburn hair, tucking it behind her ear. Her color looked cold, her skin drawn, making her appear almost lifeless. Maggie moved her cheek against his hand.
       Come on, baby, he urged her silently. Come to me. Something inside Ben flared savagely. He had to prevent her from slipping into the unknown dimensions of death -- there had been too much death the past two days -- he had to keep her here.
       Maggie's eyelids fluttered. "Maggie, I know you can hear me," Ben coaxed, drawing his fingers along her jaw line.
       All right, Maggie, this has gone on long enough, he thought as he mentally crossed his fingers and forged ahead in his most demanding voice. "I want you to look at me. Talk to me."
       Maggie heard the deep male voice demanding her response, but her eyelids felt like hefty weights, and she couldn't lift them. She didn't want to open them anyway, and he would have to understand she was busy looking for her sons. He would just have to go away until she found them.
       At first the voice coaxed, now, it demanded. It repeatedly expressed what she wanted to ignore; "look at me, talk to me." Maggie didn't want to obey it. She liked the sweet darkness; the quiet, peaceful place. Besides, its seclusion alleviated the agony -- but the voice -- it felt good, too. It was becoming necessary to listen. NO!
       "Please, go away," Maggie said, frustrated, appealing to the voice while shifting to her side in an attempt to discourage it. "Let me be."
       "No way, Maggie, I want you now. I want you to pay attention to me."
       Who did he think he was, yelling and giving her orders, making her conscious of all her pain -- all of it? "No." He just wouldn't leave her alone.
       The boys were right around the corner, and if the darned voice would leave her alone long enough for her to talk to them, she would listen to it and find out why it kept bothering her.
       Maggie's heart twisted as she peered through the darkness. They had been close by a minute ago; now all she could see was empty space. Todd had just said, "Mommy, be careful," and Josh had appeared behind him with, "He's right, Maggie. Watch yourself, because he is coming, and -- " Then they disappeared, the voice chasing them away.
       Being a lawyer had meant everything to Josh. He'd always been too occupied with his work-a-holic efforts to pay much daily attention to the boys. But he had them beside him now, and she just wanted to see them and make certain they didn't miss her too much -- instead they warned her about someone coming.
       The voice had chased them away; now she would have to start the search all over again and find out who was coming.
       Ben could see he was getting to her. After her defiant whispers while he was taking her blood pressure, she could definitely hear him. Her pressure was up -- now, baby, the pressure will be on. Ahh ... being congenial to her wouldn't work, but the reverse created reaction.
       Maggie Rand wanted to die, no doubt about it, but anger forced her body to react to survival whether she agreed with it or not. Ben reached down and gently shook her good arm; she tried to yank it from him.
       Hostility was better than nothing -- although, just a short while ago it hadn't been resentment Maggie had shown when he'd touched her cheek and soothed back her hair.
       "Now, Maggie," Ben ordered firmly. "Open your eyes. I want to see those beautiful eyes when you speak to me."
       She obeyed.
       Defiant, glazed, and pain-filled eyes targeted him as he gently dabbed away the perspiration on her forehead with the washcloth from the bed stand. Ben had her attention, and he wasn't about to lose it, so he did the only thing he could think of, he sat on the bed beside her and caressed her cheek with the merest touch. He brushed his fingers across her lips and talked to her; insisting she pay attention to every word.
       Maggie came awake a little more with every demanding whisper, with every touch of his fingers despite her unmistakable desire to avoid him.
       After methodically moving up to touch her eyelids, and leaving soft caresses on both of them, Ben quickly realized the profound mistake he'd made as he felt an undeniable bond with her. Physical or spiritual he wasn't sure, but it startled him nonetheless.
       Ben studied her eyes. They held an expression of confusion and pain, but only for a second as their brilliance shifted to defiance again.
       Good. Anger seemed to be breathing life into her, and she was coming out of shock. His heart lurched as her tear-filled eyes changed to an amazing sea green. Color was returning to her cheeks in a delicate flush, but if he continued provoking her, they would soon be blazing with heat. The little lady had a temper.
       "Why?" she asked huskily. She raised her hand and skimmed her lips with shaking fingers. "Why can't you let me be?"
       The sound of her slightly gravelly voice was so sweet Ben nearly forgot that his objective was to irritate her. He'd almost lost her; but right now, Maggie Rand was becoming awake, aware, and madder than hell at him.
       "There are two answers, Maggie. I haven't left you alone because I'm a doctor who never gives up easily. And," Ben added, touching her lips where her fingers had been, "I plan on annoying you until you've quit trying to skip out on the living. I have no intentions of allowing you to leave, Maggie."
       He sat up straighter. "It'll be real stormy around here for you, because every minute you use to work on leaving, you're going to find me working like an Archangel to bring you back. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you and your baby around." Ben shoved a hand through his hair. "You're so out of it, you probably won't remember anything -- but give it some effort anyway, sweetheart."
       Under normal circumstances he would never speak to a patient or friend like this -- but he didn't feel normal. Nothing about her or the predicament felt normal.
       One thing was positive; Maggie and the baby she carried would not quit without a fight from him. It couldn't be any other way.
       Ben took Maggie's wrist in his hand. Her pulse was strong, and she felt warm to his touch. At least for now, she was with him more mentally and physically than a few minutes ago. Just stay with me little one -- just stay with me.
       This man was impossible!
       He sat beside her and held her hand with a definite purpose in every touch as his dark eyes mirrored his words. He made her aware of time and space, and she didn't want to be conscious of anything.
       He shook his head slightly. "Fate brought you to me, Maggie. You know that don't you," he mumbled, rising from his position on the bed.
       The warmth of his presence went with him as he shifted to his feet. The compassion in his light touch and spirited strength had become a necessity, and a sense of being abandoned seized her now that he was standing so far away.
       What did he mean, fate? Being only half conscious, Maggie had a hard time digesting his words. "Then fate gave you a raw deal," she whispered. "Now you're stuck with the problem of getting rid of me."
       He said she was trying to leave. She glanced at the bottle hanging above her head. Where the heck could she go?
       He had her struggling to stay awake, and it was infuriating that nothing she'd tried had worked to keep him out of her mind. Her lips still felt warm and tingled from his faint caresses -- along with the other places he'd scarcely touched.
       Ben chuckled softly. "I never try to get rid of what fate brings me," he said, moving closer to the bed. "I don't think the powers-that-be would be pleased."
       "Give yourself a couple of days," Maggie murmured through clenched teeth as her shoulder throbbed unmercifully. "You may not feel pleased with the powers."
       Just as Ben chuckled again, a nurse pushed the door open with her shoulder because she was juggling a stack of bundles. "Doctor Clive is on his way," she said, bumping the door closed with her elbow. She glanced at Maggie, then eyed Ben questioningly. "What's going on, Ben?"
       He gave Cheryl a warning look. "Maggie has decided to stay with us for a while, Cheryl, but to make absolutely certain, let's get to work."
       He was fiddling with the things Cheryl brought, and Maggie wondered why it sounded as if he were about to do something which would fuse her to him forever. She watched as they worked together to administer the medication. They appeared so strange -- it was as though she was sitting on a cloud, and they were working on someone else.
       She closed her eyes. All of this was simply a dream. These people were part of a dream, and she would be exceptionally happy when she could wake up.
       Maggie's face appeared relaxed, her skin color slightly pink, and no longer tinged a bluish green. "She's asleep now, Cheryl," Ben said quietly. "Hopefully, she'll get enough rest to make her stronger tomorrow."
       Cheryl looked puzzled. "What happened in here, Ben? I couldn't believe it when I came in here and saw the pink flush in Maggie's cheeks, let alone the big change in her vital signs."
       He brushed a hand tiredly across his eyes. "We'll discuss it in my office before we go home." He walked toward the door. "I have to get over to the nursery and check on my little buddy, so use the intercom when Clive arrives. After I'm finished with him, we'll talk," Ben said, glancing at his watch. "It's five-fifteen now, let's plan to meet at six."
       Cheryl sighed as she straightened up the equipment they'd been using. "Right, six."
       Ben nodded at Cheryl and pushed the door open.
       One of his most serious faults was, he'd never been especially patient in a crisis, and he wanted his orders carried out with as much speed as humanly possible. This fault had crushed the tender nerves of a few rookie nurses, but Cheryl had worked with him long enough to keep up with his pace. He smiled. Sometimes she was way ahead of him. They made a good team.
         * * * *
       In less than ten minutes Ben was standing beside a wall mural of a smiling cartoon mouse and staring down into the incubator at a dark-headed little infant who was crying lustily. Ben rubbed the stiffness at the back of his neck as he thought about the babe's immediate situation. Two nights ago at almost the same second he came into the world, his mother abandoned living; anyway that was what it seemed like to Ben since he could find no medical cause.
       The authorities were searching for any relatives who might exist, but so far, no luck. The young woman had walked into the hospital out of nowhere; she arrived with no car, no one with her, and experiencing labor seven weeks too early. Her name, she'd said, was Kara Lowe, and she "came from nowhere and was going nowhere." How right she had been. Her heart merely stopped as if she told it to stop and it obeyed.
       And he was very sick of mysteries.
       Ben opened the glass case and gently lifted the not-very-happy, too small, too early, and doing just great bundle-of-energy. He could almost hold him in one hand; four pounds were so meager there wasn't much little person to hang on to.
       The baby kicked his feet, threw his arms, and cried even harder. Ben smiled as he walked toward the examining table. "Easy, little man, I promise I only came for a visit."
       He heard a bubbly laughter next to him. "Carole, I believe this man is hungry."
       "You came just in time, Doctor Ben." Carole's gray eyes danced as she handed him a diaper. "If you want to take charge of that," she said pointedly, "I'll warm his dinner."
       She must be kidding he thought, eyeing the softhearted and slightly spherical nurse standing beside him. Nope, she meant it. "It's been a while since I tackled the backside of this job," he said, trying to remember how long ago it was since his sister decided he should learn the skill on his niece. She survived.
       Carole gave him a wicked grin. "If you put it on the end that isn't crying, you can't go wrong. Be back in a minute," Carole said, backing away from him. She laughed as she disappeared behind a partition, and Ben was positive she was enjoying the situation much too much.
       "All right, amigo," Ben murmured, laying the baby on the table, "we have to muddle through the basic stuff first." The baby stopped crying and looked at Ben. "See, I'm being good. I haven't even touched you with a stethoscope or a tongue-depressor." The baby blinked and put his fist in his mouth.
       Carole reappeared and handed Ben a small baby bottle. "I have it, Carole. Nicholas. Yep, Nick it is. I mean -- we can't keep calling him 'the baby.' It's cold-hearted, and down-right disrespectful to -- "
       "Doctor Ben," Carole interrupted him, "you are simply amazing. Nicholas is the perfect name for him." She wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes with her fingers. "I'm sorry, Ben, but sometimes you are incredible."
       "Now, Carole -- "
       She waved a hand at him. "Don't pay any attention to me, just go ahead and feed our little imp. I have to go and see how the other babies are doing with their dinners."
       When she disappeared behind the partition again, Ben carried Nick across the room and eased onto the rocking chair near the wide viewing window, after he made sure the curtain was secure and not gaping open. No sense in the whole blasted place knowing what he was doing. "Okay, good buddy," Ben said, as Nicholas latched onto the nipple. "Enjoy."
         * * * *
       It was three hours later when Ben finally relaxed and sipped an after-dinner brandy in the bar at the Family Tree restaurant, La Vista's finest, and listened to Victoria Nelson tell him about her latest trip to the Caribbean. With her bright-blue eyes flashing, along with the diamond choker decorating her neck, and wearing an exclusive-designer dress, she appeared completely out of place in La Vista's best, and only, relax-with-the-family watering hole.
       "Nassau was beautiful, darling. Especially Paradise Island, and you wouldn't believe the amount I won at the tables." Victoria checked the polish on her lengthy, perfectly manicured fingernails and continued. "The casino was fabulous and the shows were the best I've seen in a long while."
       Ben smiled and grabbed a handful of popcorn. "How did prince What's-His-Name do?" Victoria had a new escort every time she departed on one of her frolics, and as he watched her lovely animated face, he thought about his luck -- or hers. If she hadn't changed her mind three years ago, they would now be man and wife -- and miserable. As friends, they were very successful.
       Victoria wrinkled her nose and sipped her Ruffino. "Oh, he didn't gamble. The poor man didn't have enough time, what with all the dignitaries constantly hounding him."
       She raked her long, rose-colored fingernails lightly across his arm. "We could get out of here, darling. My family took off to spend a few days in Tucson, and we can have that big ranch house all to ourselves."
       Ben took a slow sip of brandy. A sense of tiredness moved within him, reaching to his soul. Victoria's spirited loveliness wasn't what he needed. However, he didn't want to be alone tonight, and he'd already tried everything he could think of to leave the hospital behind and simply enjoy Victoria's company, but a pair of hazel eyes and an infant scarcely big enough to find, distracted his thoughts with unmitigated tenacity.
       Being honest with himself was the best place to start. Why not admit it? What he needed was what he had decided he could live without -- that second commitment. The covenant which allowed a man to sit quietly with the woman he loved, a woman who would share ideas, a woman who wouldn't mind, once in a while, hearing about the frustrations that could twist a man's gut into a square knot. He wanted love and marriage; however, if he tossed such an idea at Victoria now she would laugh him right out of La Vista's finest bar-and-dinner establishment. Ben shook his head. What was he thinking about? Remember the oil-and-water concept, old man, he told himself determinedly, and stick to what you understand. But somehow, unexpectedly, ideas swayed, and he wasn't so certain he even understood that anymore.
       Ben finished his drink and raised to his feet. "They're playing some good music for a change, Vic, let's dance."
       Victoria accepted his outstretched hand immediately, but her expression was quizzical. "If you're certain, darling, it's all right with me."
       "I'm sure," he said, pulling her into his arms. Now what he needed was to forget about today. He smiled inwardly. Maybe he needed to see a good doctor, because his body didn't give a damn that Vic was brushing her firm, rounded breasts against his chest and inviting him to share a whole lot more. A week ago he probably would have accepted, after all he was a healthy, red-blooded yank, but today -- today, what she offered wasn't enough -- 
       He remembered how his body reacted while he touched Maggie Rand's satiny cheek and inhaled the delicate womanly scent that surrounded her.
       What he needed was to go home and get some sleep.
--------
         *Chapter 7*
       Instinctively Maggie's eyes clamped back shut as the bright light from the window stung them.
       She opened them again, hesitantly. The nightmare must still be going on, because this was unquestionably the room she'd been dreaming about all night. Good Lord, what was happening?
       Get hold of yourself, Rand, she thought. All it requires is a little concentration -- like recalling a pair of ebony eyes and a soothing, coaxing, deep-timbered voice. It was also arrogant, demanding, maddening, and always disturbing the peace she craved by refusing to let her rest.
       A slight swishing noise shifted her attention toward the door. No, the man with the black velvet eyes existed and was not a dream. They looked at her from the darkly tanned and ruggedly handsome face approaching her.
       "I see you have decided to rejoin us," the man drawled, taking in everything about her as his long strides carried him across the room. He took a familiar looking photo album from under his arm and placed it on her bed stand.
       The voice wasn't a fantasy either, Maggie thought, bemused, staring at him. Doctor Ben I presume, she decided, as he drew closer. Just relax, keep cool; the determined look on his face couldn't be all that dangerous. Long-limbed and energetic, he moved toward her as lithe as an athlete, and with shoulders designed to carry more than his share of trouble.
       He wore a dull-blue hospital shirt with a V-neck that revealed a tangle of dark curling hair on his chest. Maggie raised her glance to his face and took in his tired appearance and disheveled coffee-brown hair.
       "Yes," Maggie answered huskily. Her throat was dry, hampering her ability to speak, and her mind was flitting around like a new baby chick struggling to get loose from its shell. Sorting out the tangible from the dreams wasn't going to be especially easy.
       Had this doctor touched her cheek and her eyes and murmured demands to her the way she was remembering?
       What really happened? -- and what hadn't?
       Reaching across her, Ben gave her a sip of water, and Maggie savored it, letting the cool wetness trickle slowly down her throat. There were definite possibilities that this man was too intuitive.
       His hands felt gentle as he clasped her wrist to register her pulse. Ignoring the warmth she could feel from his dark gaze as he inspected her, wasn't working, and her awareness of his intense scrutiny set her cheeks flaming. Maggie took a deep breath and looked away to conceal her unexpected and confusing emotions. His touch on her arm was so pleasurable that her heart was thudding solidly against her chest, and since she couldn't do a thing about it, he was going to notice her reaction because he still had her wrist between his fingers.
       This was ridiculous. Medication -- that was it -- medication could do all sorts of strange things to people.
       When he leaned forward to touch her with the stethoscope, her nostrils picked up a faint, pleasing musk scent. Yes, positively, he was the constant irritation that invaded her tranquility. This doctor undoubtedly took his occupation seriously; however, it would be most agreeable with her if he would go practice it on someone else.
       Ben gently nudged the hospital gown from her shoulder. "How is the pain this morning?" he asked, checking the heavy bandages.
       Maggie moved her right hand to her abdomen. The IV tubing didn't permit her bearable freedom, and she stilled the impulse to rip it from her wrist and hand it to him. She wasn't in the mood for ridiculous questions. "Not exactly tickling," Maggie muttered, lowering her eyes to her hand where the IV needle was an annoying restriction.
       "Doctor Clive will order the IV removed today, Maggie, if you drink lots of fluid," Ben said, giving her another sip of icy liquid. "Do this right, and tomorrow morning you can enjoy breakfast while sitting in this." He spun a chair away from the wall, settling it beside the bed and sat down, straddling it.
       She saw his forehead wrinkle with a frown as his eyes leveled on her. -- here come the questions I don't want to answer. "I can't remember who I am. I don't remember why I'm here, and I'm mildly allergic to aspirin," she lied, looking toward the window and praying he would go away.
       He didn't take the hint.
       "Will you talk to me about the cave, Maggie?" Ben asked, and deliberately ignored every word she'd said. He had to know.
       After quickly searching for a credible excuse, she came up with nothing useful. "There just isn't anything to tell you, Doctor, except that I was camping." It was, most likely, fruitless not revealing more. The police would discover everything anyway because of Ken, and this doctor knew her name and, no doubt, where she came from. All her plans seemed doomed to failure.
       "If you won't explain why or how you came to be in the cave, how about telling me about your family?"
       When he touched her arm, the warmth in his hand softened her mood despite herself. For a moment she felt tempted to divulge everything, but she couldn't do it. "There isn't any family," she said. "They're all gone." Maggie's hand rotated absently on her abdomen. But not quite, there is one I'm waiting for. "My husband and my babies were my family." She took in a slow, shaky breath. "They left me behind one day, and it was the last time I -- " Lord, she couldn't say it. It hadn't been this hard to talk about it before; she'd gotten over all the rough places. "I don't have anyone else," she said finally.
       His fingers were gently massaging her hand, and she recognized the tender compassion in his touch. Maybe he understood the bleak ache in her heart, maybe he didn't, but in her frustration, understanding wasn't what she wanted. What she wanted was to get on with her life, despite the complications that were too astonishing to overlook.
       "How about any friends to notify? We can advise them as to where you are," he offered. With ease, she maneuvered away from any direction Ben took. Somehow, he would get her to trust him.
       As his gaze caught hers, a muscle twitching along his rigid jaw line was the only signal Maggie could detect that implied her story didn't please him. He didn't betray any emotions in the seemingly infinite depth of his black eyes. She could confide in him, could tell him about Sue and Jacob. No, it wouldn't be a good idea, because Ken was probably calling them for information. Sue believed Ken was the generous, compassionate friend-of-all-friends and would give her location to him without a thought.
       "None," she replied.
       She'd made an effort to tell Sue about her suspicions regarding Ken; only Sue thought she was being hormonal and in need of more rest. The lack of communication stressed their friendship, but didn't sever it. Maybe she would call them once she found a place to settle and started living again. Once she felt certain Kenneth Remley would leave her alone.
       Having come with more than one tactic in mind, Ben lifted the photo album from the table and placed it beside her on the bed. "I thought you might enjoy having this with you."
       Maggie fingered the album cover. "Thank you," she said huskily. She hadn't been able to look inside since the accident, and she couldn't do it in front of this man who watched her so perceptively. She flicked a glance at the photo beside her bed. That was the only one she could handle. A studio picture with nothing concerning their home or the tense friction in their lives evident in the background.
       Remembering Ken and his constant intrusion into her life was suddenly more than she could handle. "Why didn't you leave me be on that mountain?" she asked desperately. "Why -- why didn't you just leave me alone!"
       He tried not to show his disappointment. So much for believing her emotions had changed, Ben thought, hanging on to his patience. When Maggie touched her abdomen, love radiated from her eyes. He'd felt certain she'd decided life was what she wanted. Now she had the identical expression she had when she implored him to let her to die.
       He clasped her chin loosely so she would have to look at him. Maybe her sudden fear had something to do with the photo album.
       Maggie instinctively flinched and cried out in pain from his abrupt movement.
       "I didn't mean to startle you," he said hoarsely, softening his hold to a mere touch. "Look at me."
       "I am looking," she said defiantly between clenched teeth.
       "I had hoped you would remember what I told you. Since you don't seem to, I'll go through it again. I'm a doctor, and you were in my care. You managed to get injured on my property." He sucked in a deep breath and lowered his voice. "I don't understand what the hell you were doing there, but I wasn't about to leave you bleeding to death. I realize you're miserable in your condition, nevertheless you need to savvy that I have no intention of letting you die -- or allowing you to will yourself to die. You belong here with me, and among the living."
       He hadn't meant to say that. It sounded bizarre and autocratic and he'd better reword it, because the heat of her anger was winding through his fingers and up his arm. But Ben couldn't release the frustration and anger in his own mind. "We have one orphan to many around here, and I sure as hell don't need you to purposely leave another one."
       "What! How could you say -- Why, you don't even know me," Maggie sputtered, her voice a rasping whisper as she tried to turn her head and escape his hand. "And what do you mean willing myself to d -- "
       He released her chin, backing away. "Oh yes, Maggie, I know you," he interrupted, flinging his hand in exasperation. "I've held you, felt your blood on my skin." He heaved a sigh. "I was there when gunshots blasted all over the place, and I was the one who performed surgery on you." He lowered his tone sensuously. "Oh yes, my lovely Maggie, I know you. I -- "
       This had to stop. What for Pete's-sake was he doing?
       No matter what the circumstances, he'd never allowed himself to lose control with his or anyone else's patient before. He wanted to shake her. There had to be another way to reach her besides making an ass of himself. Turning on his heels, he made for the door, but it swung open before his hand reached the handle and a short, slightly balding man walked in.
       "Ahh," Doctor Clive said. "I see our patient is wide awake this morning."
       Ben stepped into the open doorway and turned toward Maggie. "Maggie, can you recall meeting Doctor Clive?"
       She was shaking her head slightly with a confused expression on her face. He had a feeling the confusion didn't stem from thinking about Clive. "He will be your medical doctor until our obstetrician returns from his vacation. Doctor Clive will answer the questions you have." He grabbed the door handle. "Now, if you'll both excuse me, I have rounds to make." Not waiting for an answer, he pulled the door shut behind him.
       He would send Cheryl in to watch her when Clive left, and he would stay away until he could control himself. Sit down with a cup of coffee, drag on a cigarette, cool off and think reasonably, rationally -- maybe, just maybe figure out why this woman could scare the hell out of him. He might as well admit it; he was ready to pounce on her if she so much as sneezed.
       Cheryl was coming along the corridor toward him. When she reached him, he put his hand up to stop the questions she was about to ask. He gestured down the hall. "I'm going into my office to drink coffee and possibly pace a few holes in the floor. When I get finished with that, you'll find me in the nursery checking on the babes." He paused as he saw the astonished look on Cheryl's face. "Any questions?"
       She shook her head. "None coming from me, Doctor," she said, looking at him as if he were carrying a heavy bullwhip and a chair.
       "Good. Then you can check with Doc Clive for orders on Maggie while I get busy."
         * * * *
       Maggie stared at the door as it closed behind the gentle old doctor. She still tried to digest what had happened before he arrived. Doctor Clive had come and gone and she'd hardly been able to listen to a word he said. The throbbing in her shoulder was making it difficult for her to think; plus the dark-eyed doctor had spoken rapidly, and so emotionally she couldn't remember it all.
       Orphans and dying?
       She wanted to ask him why he thought she wanted to die. As she remembered his words about surgery, about knowing her, and the tone of voice he used, she flushed at how vulnerable her position seemed. She wasn't even sure what her condition was. The pain seemed constant and she was weak -- 
       Interrupting her thoughts, the nurse from her nightmare hastened through the door with a tray in her arms.
       "I'm Cheryl, Maggie. I've been your nurse for the last couple of days. Do you remember any of it?" Cheryl asked cheerfully, as she crossed the room. Her uniform was making light, wispy sounds as she moved, and her dimpled smile was contagious.
       "Yes," Maggie said, striving not to take in a deep breath, "some of it."
       Maggie concentrated on inhaling slowly, easing the pain in her chest and shoulder. The encounter with the vibrant doctor Ben still wreaked havoc with her entire body, and there wasn't one feature of it that felt able to relax.
       Maggie took in a shallow breath. Maybe this nurse would tell her what was happening. "I remember -- everything was muddled when I first woke up, but it is becoming clearer by the minute. The doctor refreshed much of my memory while he was here."
       Glory, now she could recall the dream that wasn't a dream, still feel his light caresses on her face, and smell his maleness. It came as a vivid picture and definitely not an apparition.
       "Please, Cheryl, could you tell me about my injuries and how I'm doing?" Confusion had kept her from remembering to ask either doctor.
       "Doctor Clive will have to be the one who explains your condition to you, Maggie. But after lookingat you, and hearing you speak, I think you're making reasonable progress. You really look much better this morning."
       Maggie sighed. Maybe that meant she wouldn't have more conversations with the angry doctor. Somehow, she didn't believe that for a moment. "How long have I been here?" Maggie asked, yanking at the tubing on her wrist.
       Cheryl moved close to the bed and patted Maggie's hand. "Technically, this is your third day, although it hasn't been that many hours. If you'll down the liquids I brought you, you can get the IV out of your sight this afternoon." Cheryl chuckled softly as she placed the food tray on an over-the-bed table. She gestured at the tubing. "Getting rid of that IV will make you feel better because you won't have to keep fighting with it."
       Maggie looked at the bag, looming above her. It seemed like a monster, and it commanded the power to keep her chained to the bed. Then she eyed the food warily as Cheryl elevated the head of her bed by pushing some buttons on a box attached to the handrail.
       "This food isn't as bad as it looks," Cheryl said, helping Maggie to get comfortable by placing a pillow behind her injured shoulder. "Would you like me to help you, or would you rather attempt it alone?"
       "I'd like to try it by myself." Maggie glanced at the call button hooked on the bed stand. She wanted very much to be alone. "I'll push on this thing if I can't do it," she promised, brushing a shaky hand across her forehead.
       "Okay, but you push that call light if you need something." Cheryl put the cord and button close to Maggie's hand. "That is what it's for, and I'm always here to help."
       Cheryl's smile was so genuine that Maggie decided she was worthy of trust.
       "I'll see you in a few minutes then," Cheryl said, walking toward the door. "Just take it slow and relax."
       After Cheryl left the room, Maggie looked at the unusual array of food on the tray: grape gelatin, apple juice, and soup. For breakfast? Yuck. Maneuvering the spoon carefully, she tried to scoop up some gelatin. It slipped off the spoon, ricocheted from the tray, hit the side of the mattress, and bounced across the floor.
       Maggie stared at it. What could make it do that? She'd made gelatin for the kids; however, this had to be some mystical formula. Hers could never accomplish such a feat.
       Maggie laid the spoon on the tray and sighed. She wasn't at all hungry, yet if she didn't eat, that shackling bag would still be hanging there, and the doctor would be blazing at her with caustic words. Or, had he handed her over to the other doctor so he wouldn't have to deal with her? Fat chance. The pushy type never gave up.
       The worst punishment was her restriction to the bed. She couldn't stand it. If I could just crawl out of here, Maggie thought bleakly. I don't want Ken to discover me here helpless, and he could show up any moment.
       What would Ken do with her when he found her? He insisted she had an obligation to pay Josh's debts. But he wouldn't explain, and she wasn't about to be responsible for them: firstly, because she knew nothing about them, and, secondly, although Ken insisted her signature was important on who-knew-what documents, she had never signed any papers for Josh or the Remley office.
       She could work a million years and not have the kind of money Ken talked about.
       Before Ken's polished surface chipped away, and he revealed the impatience, which aroused her distrust, he'd told her he felt attracted to her and wanted to help her get through her pain and loss. Perhaps later she would consider allowing them to get to know each other better. Then he started pushing. She would never consider a relationship with him. Glory, she couldn't stand the sight of him.
       "He's just too strange for words," Maggie breathed, blinking her eyes and staring at the desert painting on the hospital room wall. No, she thought, strange wasn't it, scary fit better. If she just could have gotten into his office and gone through the papers -- but he wouldn't let her, kept putting her off. She wouldn't stand for any more pretentiousness from Ken. And Joshua's errors couldn't be vitally important, or Ken wouldn't have kept evading the issues. She'd already made her choice and her plans to leave. Ken's last visit merely rushed her timing. She'd hustled the dogs into the car and driven away without the slightest idea where she wanted to go -- except, to travel east until she found a town clean enough and friendly enough to call home.
       It was Ken's fault she didn't reach that town. He forced her into seclusion. Though it wasn't the perfect niche, it was a lovely, quiet cave -- only it didn't stay quiet long enough.
       Maggie gazed around the small room. If only she hadn't gotten sick, and if this hadn't happened, she would be miles from here finding employment and getting ready for the baby.
       After two years of schooling and helping Josh research for the past six years, she'd become a proficient paralegal. It shouldn't be that difficult to find a lawyer in need of a researcher, or, for that matter, a secretary. She'd worked two jobs while getting her education; now the opportunity had come to use what she'd worked hard to achieve.
       Instead of doing what she needed to do, here she sat feeling groggy, confused, and shackled to a bed with a dark-eyed rogue lurking somewhere in the hall outside her door.
       Doctor Ben -- yes, that was what Cheryl and the voice had called him. In her dark retreat, liberated from pain and filled with dreams and fantasy, the voice and the body it came from had seemed to be totally different entities.
       I liked the voice; no, I loved the voice. It sounded trustworthy, gave her a sense of well-being, and freed her from loneliness -- but Doctor Ben? He was impatient, and he pushed at her like Ken.
       The way he spoke to her was outrageous. She darned well couldn't stay here and listen any more.
       She shoved back the sheet and struggled to sit up. Maggie sucked in a sharp breath, the pain piercing her shoulder forcefully. She tried again and found by moving one inch at a time she could endure it.
       No -- she wouldn't listen to Doctor Ben anymore -- and Ken could arrive. Ken's behavior seemed desperate enough to resort to anything to drag her back to California. Well, she was desperate too, desperate to keep her remaining resources for her baby.
       She pushed one foot at a time over the side of the bed, wiggled her fanny to the edge, and slid off onto her feet. "I am getting out of here," she muttered, tightly clenching her teeth against the agony as she realized that Ken had to be the one Todd and Josh warned her about in her dream.
       Two steps, that's two steps. She closed her eyes as dizziness won control and blackness tried to overcome her determination. Maggie opened her eyes when she heard the earsplitting crash of breaking glass come from behind her. The hated IV system she'd completely forgotten had come off the pole, snagged a bottle of medicine Cheryl had hung with the bag, and glass shattered across the floor.
       "Glory. The room won't stand still," she groaned, dazedly aware that she'd failed again to gain her freedom.
--------
         *Chapter 8*
       I can't achieve a blasted thing this way, Ben thought, as he emerged from his office. He would stop wasting his gray-matter energy getting absolutely nowhere, change direction for a while, visit the little people, and see how ol' Nick was getting along.
       Ben closed the door and advanced down the hall. When he heard the sound of shattering glass, it didn't take much for him to realize the noise came from Maggie's room. With a deep groan, he headed toward the noise.
       "Bloody hell, Maggie, now what," he hissed tersely, skidding to a halt in front of room 103. When he swung open the door and watched in shock as Maggie collapsed to the floor, he believed, without doubt, she would manage to age him fifty years before she was well enough to leave the hospital. In two strides he reached her side, dropped to one knee, and scooped her into his arms.
       "You're amazing, do you know that?" Irritation soared through him, and his heart slammed forcefully against his chest.
       "I'm sorry," Maggie whispered, turning her head into his shoulder, a slight shudder running through her.
       He carried her toward the bed, stepping over the broken glass "Sorry!" His voice ricocheted against the walls of the room, slamming back against his eardrums. Ben sucked in a deep breath, bridling the thousand other words itching to blast loose, let alone the colossal urge he was resisting to keep from dumping her on the mattress.
       After gently lying her down, Ben slipped the needle from her arm and examined her bandages. He cursed under his breath at the dark-red stain spreading beneath the thick pad on her shoulder.
       Maggie giggled, and Ben heard the confused hysteria behind it, but it burned at him anyway.
       He grabbed the call-light cord hooked across her handrail. "You ruin five hours of work and endanger yourself with a fall, and you believe it's funny? You have to slow down and start thinking before launching into activity. Most likely it was this kind of behavior that got you into this mess in the first place."
       Unable to control her feelings about the mess of her situation, and with tears spilling onto her cheeks, Maggie shifted her hand to her mouth, stifling another giggle. Dizziness still made it hard to focus and it seemed there were at least three of him.
       Ben kicked a large piece of glass out of the way and sat on the sheets beside her.
       He dropped the signal cord and cupped her delicate chin in his hand. "Where did you imagine you were going?" Acutely aware of her pain, Ben curbed his need to yell. "What will have to happen before I can reach you?" God, she could torment him.
       The sight of her tear-shimmering eyes, and the determined pout of her lips, twisted something loose in Ben, and he kissed her, whispering his lips against hers, tasting her. She was going to give him nightmares if she didn't knock off the....
       He became quickly aware of two things -- her soft lips moving under his, and his heart pounding with a deafening sound in his ears. The taste of her tears was salty, yet against the sweetness of her skin, they affected him in a way he'd never before known, and exasperation left him like air leaving an inflated balloon. Whatever he was feeling, it was sweet enough to relish hanging onto.
       "Oh, God," she moaned breathlessly against his mouth. It was impossible to withdraw and avoid him. Maggie struggled to ignore the delicious taste of him and searched for an excuse to tell him why she was out of bed. Clearly, he was angry; still, he was tender, and it was difficult for her to justify anything, fact or fabrication.
       His kiss barely touched her. She was utterly unprepared for the warm desire drifting through her. Even more unexpected was the need to forget time and space, and her mind rapidly became as worthless as the gelatin that went bouncing off the tray earlier.
       Her physical condition left her weakened -- right this second, it didn't matter. The only thing on earth she wanted to be aware of was the joy of his touch. His hands assuaged her tense muscles; abruptly, mystically, they absorbed the soreness that filled her body.
       As Ben drew back slowly, his incredibly dark gaze zeroed in on hers. For a moment his expression looked like one of satisfaction, but it abruptly changed to reflect her own confusion. And when he spoke, his voice became husky and low.
       "Maybe you do belong with me. Maybe you're here because fate meant it to happen this way."
       The quietly spoken comment instantly brought Maggie's haggard mind back toward reality, wondering if it was possible to stop the chaotic way her heart sent blood rushing through her body.
       And the way he studied her did nothing to help still the furor she sought to quell. His gaze softened. He cared -- she could see it easily in the compassionate way his eyes seemed to caress her -- but Ben couldn't know what happened to people who cared for her, and she couldn't allow the jinx that seemed to surround her to destroy anyone else.
       "When can I leave here?" Maggie asked, her voice unfamiliar and gravelly as she tried to look away and failed.
       She would simply ignore what he said. It didn't work. This whole dilemma was astonishing. "He has got to be crazy." She shook her head slowly. Be honest, you know darned truly and well you kissed him back. So who's amok, him or you?
       He seemed to be studying her as if trying to read her mind.
       "You're probably right," he drawled, leaning closer, "Maybe I am a little crazy, still, it doesn't change how I believe that is the sweetest kiss I've ever tasted." Ben reached out, gently lifted the hair away from her cheek, tucked it behind her ear, and kissed her again, softly.
       Glory. Sweet, she thought, was a mild word for what they'd just shared.
       Ben breathed against the corner of her lips, "Don't get up again or it will force us to put restraints on you. I do mean what I'm saying. We have some restraints Houdini couldn't have escaped from on his greatest day." He stood up, activating the call button as he straightened.
       A slight smile pushed at the corners of his lips, but Maggie realized he wasn't kidding.
       Cheryl opened the door and peered in, her eyes opening wide at the glass and water spread all over the room. She turned her questioning glance to Ben.
       "Get Doc Clive, Cheryl," Ben ordered, wanting to leave. "He has some work to do." Ben needed time to think, to evaluate what had just happened. Seeing Maggie fall had frightened him, angered him, and he'd allowed his actions to get ahead of his mind. But, hell, that was the sweetest kiss he'd ever tasted. Friendship, he reminded himself firmly, was his objective.
       Cheryl shook her head. "He just went into surgery with one of his elderly patients. What next?"
       "Then get the medical cart," he replied. "I have some dressings to change. Then call Eddy to get in here and clean up this mess."
       While Ben spoke, he jabbed a piece of gelatin with a fork from the food tray and stuck it in Maggie's open mouth.
       Instinctively her jaw closed over it, and she rolled the rubber-like substance around on her tongue. Maggie propped the back of her hand against her forehead. The mouse could very well feel like this after the cat finished playing with it, she fantasized, weary from the trauma of her fall and his unexpected cure for her conduct. Only -- all his actions were serious, and she didn't believe for a moment Ben was amusing himself. The energy and self-confidence which surrounded him, even when against her will, encouraged her, bolstering her spirit to persevere.
       She expelled a slow, deep sigh. You must stop his caring, she ordered herself. He saved your life. He was intending to help her, and she fully realized he would do his work expertly, and the situation didn't matter. However, he could get himself destroyed in the process. It was essential to get better, quickly, and remove herself from Ben Karr's life before the fascination growing between them could gather any more momentum, placing him in certain danger.
       Worn out, and only vaguely aware of Ben changing her bandages, Maggie thought about Joey and Todd. Josh could take care of them now because his obsession with climbing to the top of his profession no longer stood in his way.
       She touched the swell of her abdomen. New Years Eve was when loneliness, along with misreading Josh's attentive behavior, had penetrated the numbness she felt for him, and they'd made love. He wasn't involved with other women just dueling with his own inner conflicts. Conflicts he wouldn't or couldn't explain. For better or worse, were the vows she'd taken, and she had intended to live up to them. The boys had gone to sleep, a fire crackled invitingly in the fireplace, and because hope for a new beginning seemed present in his words and actions, Maggie had allowed him past her protective barriers. Despite the love she'd entrusted to him, before he left Josh had apologized, saying he hadn't meant to hurt her, but nothing had changed. He needed more time to understand where his life was leading. He died not knowing about their baby. Even though their marriage hadn't been perfect, and even though he'd closed her out of his heart in his mission to "find himself," Maggie had missed him.
       He and the boys were the only people in the world she knew intimately, and she needed them desperately. Only they couldn't come, and it felt totally alien to be alone. No family -- her friends, significantly far away -- 
       Maggie turned her head and looked at the photo of Josh and the boys on the stand near her head. Oh, how she missed their laughter and constant new ideas. When the boys started their inventive plotting and scheming, they soon maneuvered to get her involved, then the three of them would end up laughing until their sides ached.
       If she closed her eyes, she could see them. No -- No, no, no! They wouldn't be here any moment to take her home, and she could never again listen to their enjoyment of each other.
       Maggie pushed her fingers against her eyelids to ease the pressure behind them.
       Ben didn't miss the unhappiness which crossed Maggie's features. He could guess pretty much what she was thinking. Thanks to a person named Sue Campbell.
       Sue had indicated that although Maggie was miserable and she never gave up, her marriage to Josh Rand was over. A year ago Josh had told Sue's husband Jacob that he wanted a divorce, but he hadn't had the courage to face Maggie with it. The Campbell's had kept quiet because it wasn't their business; however, they knew about Maggie's hope filled perseverance and felt guilty when she discovered she was pregnant.
       Now what Ben needed to figure out was, how could he help Maggie fight her ghosts? Ghosts that were cutting her heart to pieces and leaving invisible wounds -- wounds he wanted to help her heal.
       Was it even possible? As her friend, maybe he would have a chance.
       He understood the cause as well as he understood himself; but the knowledge didn't help much, because the cure was non-material -- no laboratory medicines could treat a virus of the soul.
       Ben thought about Nicholas; about the reality surrounding his birth that he would have to learn to live with. Ben wondered if anyone would be responsible enough to instruct him. Death was a segment of life everyone had to contend with as much as breathing. The profound human problem of loneliness was the hardest to surmount. Even without any help from a tangible disease, loneliness had the power to destroy.
         * * * *
       At that same moment, Sue Campbell glared at the phone receiver in her hand before she pushed it back against her ear. "Mr. Remley, I will say this again, slowly. I have not heard from Maggie."
       "Is your husband in, Mrs. Campbell?" Kenneth Remley asked, and obviously ignoring what she'd just told him. "I would like to speak with him."
       "No he isn't, but I'll be happy to take a message if you would care to leave one."
       "I need to know if Mr. Campbell is available for hire."
       Sue cleared her throat. "I usually act as his secretary, Mr. Remley," Sue lied, holding her fingers crossed behind her back, delighted her children weren't nearby listening to her break the hardest rule in the world to teach. "Would you like me to check his appointment book?"
       "Yes. I would need him to start immediately."
       Sue picked up the phone book, thumbed it back, and let the pages flip next to the receiver. Then she waited ten seconds. "My husband has an opening in two weeks. Would you like me to schedule you then?" A tapping sound came from behind her, and Sue whirled around, hanging on to the phone to keep it from flying off the table.
       Jacob was leaning against the archway to the kitchen, signaling her with his hand, and she realized he'd been listening to, and watching, the entire conversation. Well, he couldn't be too annoyed with her; after all, he taught her everything she knew.
       "Two weeks won't do." Ken sounded as if he were grinding his teeth. "Are you sure that is the earliest possible time?"
       "If you'll hold on a moment, I'll check his other calendar." Sue listened while Ken agreed before she punched the hold button, then she put the phone down, and walked over to Jacob.
       "Our friend Remley again?" Jacob asked, his eyes sparkling devilishly.
       "Yes. This time he wants to hire you. He hasn't said why, but most likely to find Maggie. I thought he already had someone looking for her."
       "He did, but they must be amateurs. The police knew where Maggie was the same day she was shot, and Remley's hirelings should have found her just like that." Jacob snapped his fingers and cleared his throat. "Anyway, that was what the police told me."
       "Jacob Tyler Campbell, you didn't -- "
       He sliced her words off with a kiss. "Ah now, Amanda Susan Campbell, you know I never interfere with the competition." Jacob planted another kiss on her mouth before she could voice what she was thinking. "Have Remley give you his office address and tell him I can be there Thursday afternoon. That will give me three days, and by then I'll want to see his office." Jacob leaned forward and nibbled at her lower lip. "This man's techniques as an attorney gets more interesting by the minute."
       Sue backed away from him. "Do you expect me to believe you haven't already seen the inside of his office?" She watched Jacob's rugged-steel expression change to boyish innocence.
       "Ahh, Babe, would I ever do anything as clandestine as your tone implies?"
       "Never," she answered, turning back toward the phone. "Never, never, never."
         * * * *
       Maggie shifted her glance from the book she held, but couldn't concentrate on, pulled on her new arm sling until it felt comfortable, then gazed out the window. It had been two days since she shattered the medicine bottle and Ben's patience, and her shoulder felt better. Though dizziness often overwhelmed her, at least now she could move from the bed to the chair without wanting to scream, but normally she stayed busy, and the idleness was driving her crazy.
       She hadn't seen much of Ben, and when he did come in, he was no longer asking questions. Did it mean he'd found out everything he wanted to know? If that were true, he was keeping it to himself.
       She closed her eyes. Ken still lurked out there somewhere, and coming with that thought the inexplicable fear she always felt toward him sent an ice-cold shiver down her spine. Maggie could practically feel him advancing on her -- but would he still be looking for her?
       Of course -- he had the coherence of Super Glue to human skin when it came to something he wanted. She shivered again.
       "Feeling cold?" the low voice asked.
       Maggie drew in a sharp breath. No man should be allowed to have a voice like that. It could make a susceptible woman forget anything else existed.
       "No," she answered, turning her head to look at him. "I'm not cold. I was just watching the sun come up." He wore the shapeless dull-blue outfit which implied he was either going or had just come from surgery again, and his potent masculinity invoked a sudden weakness in her limbs. She said a quick prayer that he couldn't see the affect he was having on her.
       However, from the look on Ben's face, he understood perfectly. If eyes could melt a person, she would be hot liquid by now.
       Ben sat down on the corner of the bed beside her chair and glanced out the window where the light was dim and the sky was multi-shades of pinks and grays. "Are you ready to tell me what you were doing in the cave?" he asked quietly.
       Maggie caught a steeliness behind his tone. His entire expression looked impassive, but he wasn't really asking; he'd come with a purpose. So much for thinking he'd given up. "I'm not certain what it is you want to hear. I told you I was camping. I just want to leave here. I have unfinished business to take care of -- very important business." She dropped her gaze to below his chin and concentrated on the dark hairs which curled thickly around the V-shaped opening of his shirt.
       "Really," he said flatly. "Now, just what kind of business is it?" he added, leaning closer to her.
       Why couldn't he leave this alone? She couldn't tell him anything -- not yet, and perhaps never. "I have my life to get on with, Doctor. Why don't you leave me alone? Me and my life are not your concern." Because I'm too dangerous for you to become involved with, she added to herself bleakly.
       The whole thing was getting out of hand, and she couldn't do anything about it. Her cheeks burned, and he watched her so carefully he'd have to be blind not to pick up on her vulnerability. Without her permission, her body practically cried out for him to hold her, to love her, to cushion her within the benevolence and self-reliance that encompassed him.
       "I have made it my business." Ben paused, studying her confused yet stubborn expression. "You'll never be a stranger to me, Maggie, never."
       His voice, deeper than before, seemed to electrify the air, and Maggie realized her words provoked him, instantly shoving her into trouble with him again. One more step, and she'd be off the cliff. His frustration with her seemed to come out only one way, and she wanted to avoid it.
       Maggie, however, wasn't in the mood to be cautious, and her own frustration, anxiety for him and herself, and the seemingly long confinement within four walls, was more than she could stand. "I want out of here, and I want you to leave me alone -- please. Please -- just leave me alone."
       "Not today, sweetheart," he said heavily. Resting a hand on either side of her head against the chair, he shifted toward her. "Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?" he murmured. "I'm a good listener."
       His breath felt warm and moist on her cheek. He left light kisses on the tip of her nose, her ear. The tender message he was giving her was overcoming her ability to think.
       "I -- I told you, I want to leave here," she faltered, struggling to keep her mind on the subject. She couldn't fight the sensations his nearness awakened.
       "I wonder what it's going to take for you to trust me," he groaned huskily near the corner of her mouth. "We need to get acquainted with each other, and it's damned impossible to do when you won't discuss what's happening to you." He ran his finger lightly down her cheek. "Don't talk anymore about leaving, or you might snap the precarious hold I have on my patience."
       The more Ben thought about his new idea, the better he liked it. "I could take you to my ranch in a few days. With a private nurse and my housekeeper, it would be easier to keep an eye on you."
       There was a determination on his face Maggie had witnessed before, and although she wasn't certain what he was talking about, she was sure he meant what he was saying.
       "I will, if you keep pushing me with your ideas of leaving before you're ready."
       Pushing him. Her ability to control her temper was disintegrating like snow touching ground in the California desert.
       Pushing him!
       Hold it! Cool down, relax, she thought. The man is wonderful, but crazy, so change the subject -- humor him -- anything. Maggie bit unwisely hard on her lip for control.
       She tried to back away from him, of course there wasn't any place to go, and the most she could do, was pull in her chin. It didn't help because he'd moved much too close. He already knew her heart was thudding heavily because he had his hand on her wrist. She yanked it away from him.
       He would never stop asking questions, and she couldn't tell him about Ken. Ben would possibly leave her alone if she told him everything -- she felt doomed if she did and damned if she didn't. She was in a huge labyrinth with no way out -- damn -- double-damn!
       Taking in a shuddering breath, Maggie grabbed at the only subject she could think of and asked, "How are my dogs?" She strove for calm coolness, but her voice quavered and ruined it. No one had said much about her devoted friends, except once, when she'd been extremely weak. The voice had told her he was taking care of them at his ranch.
       Ben sat back and smiled, but it was a smile that said he understood exactly what she was doing. His gaze seemed to slide slowly over her body, and she expected him to comment on how underweight she was. Then Ben shoved a hand through his dark, coffee-colored hair the way she'd noticed he did every time he seemed frustrated.
       "Since my housekeeper has used every method known to man in persuading the dogs to eat, so they finally are. Joe, my foreman, makes sure they get their exercise." He hesitated. "So do I, if I get home at a decent hour. They miss you, Maggie. They did greet me last night for the first time, so I'm taking it as a sign that they'll make it okay."
       I'll bet they did, she thought, you've probably gotten them wrapped around your little finger. "Please," she said, wadding the corner of her hospital bathrobe nervously, "tell your housekeeper and Joe 'thank you' for me." She was quiet for a moment. "I'm truly sorry we're so much trouble for you." Maggie gestured at her bed. "But there doesn't seem to be much I can do to help it."
       Maggie raised her glance to Ben. "There is another big problem, Doctor Karr." It was more than that; it was enormous.
       "It's Ben, Maggie," he said quietly. "What is the big problem?"
       "You must have found my purse and keys or my photo album wouldn't be sitting here." Unless of course, he was into breaking an entering. "Did you find the money in it?"
       "Yes, it's in the office safe. What about it?" he asked, leaning forward curiously.
       "I don't have any insurance, Doctor -- er -- Ben," she stuttered, flushing self-consciously. "All this," she swept her arm at the private room, "must cost a fortune. I know what I have, and if I stay here much longer I won't have any money left."
       Ben reached over and touched her cheek, turning her face until her gaze met his. "Maggie, you were injured on my property and by the hand of my employee. Don't worry about this, it's my responsibility."
       "That's not true -- you're fully aware that I was trespassing." As she spoke, he dropped his hand away, and the smile he imparted to her reached deep into the loneliness of her heart.
       "Did you know you were?"
       "No ... but -- "
       "Right now," he interrupted her, "your prime concern is to heal, and worrying about this won't help. I'm taking care of it." He paused, wanting her to understand, wanting her to trust him. "If you have a problem with that -- let's discuss it when you're ready to take it on and do something about it. Okay?"
       " -- all right," she agreed skeptically. Well, what he said sounded reasonable, but she didn't want him paying her bills. Five-place figures fluttered in front of her eyes; swiftly wiping out the rent and birth money she'd budgeted. She would need a superior job to do anything. Supporting her baby.... He's right. If she continued thinking about this when she couldn't rectify her situation, her hair would turn gray before the day was over.
       It was remarkably difficult to keep from staring at him. Just looking at him created an unbearable need to touch him. Instead, Maggie gave way to fantasy. She would slowly slide her trembling fingers across his cheek and into the dark silkiness of his hair, while his strong arms encircled her, easing her forward until her breasts pressed against the hard, powerful muscles of his chest. Ben's sensuously full mouth would find hers. Then he would tell her in that low, sultry voice of his, what he wanted while she caressed....
       That's it, Rand. Knock it off.
       The unexpected jump from worrying to enticing fantasy was unnerving. There couldn't be any permanence in what she was visualizing. It was merely an intriguing physical attraction -- wasn't it? It could happen to anyone. She may have only known one man, but Maggie had learned early in life that sexual awareness for itself had a potency which could bend and break the strongest spirit if a person didn't hang on tightly.
       Suddenly, the truth was clear. No, it wasn't just physical. It wasn't only Ben's intelligently clear eyes, easily changing from humorous to sultry, that were drawing her to him; or his dark hair, slightly long, brushing his collar, and shining healthily; or his large hands, firm but gentle. All it took was seeing this man. He handed her friendship and encouragement so generously, he was becoming more necessary in her life by the minute. But though she never wanted to believe it, knew how improbable it sounded, something dreadful could happen to him if she cared too much -- something always happened to the people she valued.
       I have to get away from here.
       At least she was talking openly to him, and that was definite progress. Ben observed her closely as a stream of emotions flickered crossed her face. His eyes may have been playing tricks on him, or merely letting him see what he wanted to see, because he could have sworn her eyes had darkened with the desire of a woman ready for love. However, it had vanished as suddenly as it appeared, and the last glance she flashed at him most likely meant trouble. She had looked like that just before the little walk she'd tried to take.
       It was time for a closer watch over her. She was at it again, wanting to leave -- not that she'd ever stopped. Ben shook his head. She was eluding someone or something. So far, all he could pinpoint was Kenneth Remley. He hadn't been able to prompt her to mention Remley since she'd regained full consciousness. If Maggie had enough moxie to leave, she might risk her safety to do it.
       "An emergency has Doctor Clive tied up this morning," Ben said. He shifted to his feet and switched the controls on the monitor. "Since he'll be busy until late, I need to listen to the little person under your heart. If you'll give me your hand, I'll help you back to the bed."
       She placed her hand in his, and her expression seemed filled with a trust that made him swallow, hard.
       After getting Maggie settled, then with his stethoscope hearing the little heart beating strong and regular, he connected the leads to Maggie and flipped the volume up so she would have to listen.
       Ben wanted to see her reaction to hearing the wonders of the life nestled in her. He had to be certain she'd given up her ridiculous death wish. If her response was negative, he wasn't at all sure what he would do.
       Ahh, yes, there was tenderness in her eyes. But the emotion disappeared as fast as it had come. It seemed she deliberately pushed away the reality that her baby existed. Bloody damn, what could he do to get inside this woman's head? He burrowed his fingers violently through his hair.
       "What did you think about hearing the little one's heart beat?" he asked, while decreasing the monitor volume. He had to hear her talk about it and attempt to discover what really went on beneath her beautiful facade.
       Her cheeks flushed delicately, and her expression turned thoughtful as she looked up at him. "It's more fantastic each time I hear it." She touched her abdomen. "I -- I'm amazed at some of the equipment you have here." She sighed. "You are asking me to explain something language has no words for. How does one describe a miracle?" Maggie brushed the hair from the side of her face. "Sometimes I know whether it's a little fist or foot moving inside. Everything about this," Maggie nodded at the machine, "is fascinating." She laughed. "Just don't tell me what sex it is because I want it to be a surprise." She shook her head. "Sorry, Ben, but I can't think of any earthly words to describe the wonders of pregnancy."
       "Women are lucky in a special way, feeling and carrying life. Men get the job of fighting a whopping dose of frustration while waiting and pacing aimlessly." He smiled, shrugged mentally, and let his body release the tenseness he'd built up while waiting for her response. The beauty of her expression as she tried to describe what she felt sparkled in a way he couldn't find words to describe. Every time he was with her, she managed to snag a larger piece of his heart. The more Maggie revealed her gentle yet stubbornly determined inner strength the more Ben wanted to discover.
       He twisted the volume off and turned back to her. "We'll be getting you moving down the halls today, Maggie. You've been up a little, now it's time to work on it seriously. If you take it slowly, you'll be fine. I don't want you trying it on your own." Her bouts of dizziness bothered him, and he wanted to make sure she didn't suffer another fall.
       He slid one finger down the side of her neck until he reached the "V" of the gown's neckline. "I love seeing your beautiful chest ... but I'd rather it wasn't in surgery."
       She watched him, saying nothing, but fire was building in the crimson of her cheeks. He'd better leave before it blazed out of control. "Cheryl will be here in a minute to help you." He walked toward the door. "I'll be back to check on you later if Doctor Clive isn't available."
         * * * *
       When Cheryl walked in a few moments later, Maggie latched onto stubborn determination like lint on a black sweater.
       The only way she could leave this hospital was on her two feet, and she would have to be able to stand up straight.
       It took all of her concentration to get across the room without stumbling, but, wobbly knees and all, she made it. Sharp pain shot through her shoulder. She couldn't give in to it -- never.
       "Ahh," Cheryl said gently, steadying Maggie with one arm and holding the chair in place with the other. "You're doing very well. Just go slowly, and if you become dizzy, stop and take a breather until it clears up. You've made it twice around the room, next time we'll go past the door."
       "Will this ever be easy again?" Maggie asked breathlessly, easing herself onto the chair. "It's hard to believe simply walking around a room could make a person this tired. I've gone through most of my life taking for granted that I can take care of myself. I can't even wash my hair without someone's help."
       "Try not to get depressed about it, Maggie. You're getting stronger each day, and now that you'll be getting up more often, your strength will return quickly, you'll see. It's just in the movies that people leap from their bed after being shot, so allow yourself to adjust patiently. And keep in mind, the baby weighs, too, so you have a little more to carry around than you would otherwise."
       After Cheryl had helped her back to her bed and left the room, Maggie remembered Ben's strange threat to commandeer her to his ranch. She'd thought about the fact she couldn't stay here until she was completely well. Doctor Clive had mentioned she would need several weeks of physical therapy to build back the damaged muscles in her shoulder. Every time she tried to figure out where she could go after she left the hospital, the problem gave her a monstrous headache. It would be logical to call Sue, but she would be right back where she started. There didn't seem to be any other way, and she sure as heck didn't want to go to Ben's ranch.
       No, she wouldn't call Sue. She'd made her choice to leave the old life behind when she left California. She couldn't fail -- she just couldn't. If she just got in her car and drove away, maybe she could go to another town -- 
       Cheryl had said, "take it slowly," but she didn't have time for that -- no time at all. She would have to work harder and faster at getting out of this damn bed, and if it were possible to manage the rest of her life without sleeping, she would never even sit on one again.
       She'd been stuck here less than a week, but it seemed much, much longer. Maggie sighed, looking at the chair now placed across the room instead of beside the bed. "I'll try again tonight and see if I can walk over there alone," she said to the empty room, trying her utmost to forget Ben's orders.
       At least she didn't have an IV tube and pole to knock over. Maybe she could get away with it this time without causing trouble and disturbing the peace.
--------
         *Chapter 9*
       Kenneth Remley sat back in his gray-and-magenta tweed office chair and watched the door close behind J. T. Campbell. After hearing it click shut he slammed his fist against the plush Mahogany finish of his desk.
       "Campbell had best be real careful," Ken muttered to himself forcefully. He hated Campbell already, but he needed him. Campbell refused to start working for him until the weekend, and time was running out. He thought he'd nicely covered the possibility that Josh could die by adding Maggie's signature for security. She was smart, but she'd always been so affably trusting he couldn't think of a better person to use. If he didn't locate Maggie within the next three weeks, so he could maneuver funds, and that was pushing his luck, all his shrewd management of the past two years could collapse, leaving him dangerously exposed. His whole life would disintegrate; his old man would disinherit him in an instant; his old man with his heavy-handed rigidity and hard-boiled principles would then make certain when they took him to prison no one ever found the key.
       Well, there was no way he would allow any of that to happen. Campbell was one of the most impressive detectives in the business, and once he located Maggie, Ken would make certain Maggie Rand either returned and did exactly what he wanted, or make certain she never interfered.
       Before she left, her reasoning had reverted to its usual sharpness -- with something new. Maggie had started to demand full explanations for his actions, no longer just going with what he told her. But her knowledge of law was amateur at best, and he now had reasonably competent paperwork to show her -- though he still needed several months to polish them, making certain their credibility would hold water if examined by an experienced, outside investigation.
       He was through playing games and trying to seduce her into complying. It hadn't worked. Maggie had rejected him at every turn, and any open intimidation on his part would send her running to the authorities he didn't want snooping into office affairs. He almost blew it the last time he visited her, losing it when her idiotic dog took a bite out of him. When Maggie disappeared that same day, he'd half expected the police to visit his office.
       Instead, he got lucky. It was so easy to have the police looking for a missing person. Especially a totally confused, overwrought, pregnant woman, who, by her uncustomary actions, and what he'd so tactfully implied to the police, definitely needed professional help.
       Maggie's state of grief and shock had made her a cinch to control. After Josh's death, he'd moved on Maggie quickly and handled all the details she was unable to manage. It hadn't been difficult to convince her to sell the house and most of her possessions, because she hardly understood anything that went on around her. Even taking the insurance money from her had proved to be simple. However, it wasn't enough.
       Ken walked across lavishly thick, gray carpet to the large bay window in his office. Fresno's noon traffic was passing bumper-to-bumper two stories below on Valencia Boulevard. They added their odorous excretions to the smog enshrouding the chiseled mountains barley visible East of the city. Suddenly the shroud appeared to be an uninvited omen, but Ken ignored the macabre warning. He controlled his own fate; no thing or no person would interfere.
       When he found Maggie, he would try one last time to convince her to return and expedite the legalities Josh was no longer around to carry out -- trusting fool that he had been.
       If not -- well, there were other ways to resolve the problems. With Maggie out of the picture, he wouldn't need to worry about anyone investigating for a long time. His signature was next in line as Trustee; and although removing Maggie's involvement would place him in a limelight he didn't want, his documents would soon be credible enough to risk it.
       Ken grabbed his blue-pinstripe suit jacket from the back of his chair and shoved his arms in the sleeves. He would pay a surprise visit to Campbell's house tomorrow morning. It could be Campbell was hiding something, even though it didn't appear so from the interview they'd just had. Campbell was an old hand at contrived deception. He may have agreed to search for Maggie, but it wouldn't be prudent to forget he was a close friend of hers. However, it was also the plus Ken was looking for -- Campbell would want to find Maggie too.
       There was substantial time wasted already, and he didn't like trouble, breathing down his neck. Ken walked toward the door, adjusting the sleeves of his imported Mishka Ranada shirt. He wouldn't be losing this one -- the stakes were too high.
       None of this would be happening if Rand had merely done what Ken told him to do; if he hadn't started snooping. But, stupidly, Joshua Rand got nosy, and then made his unfortunate choice. He never should have gotten nosy -- he never should have made that appointment with my father.
         * * * *
       Well, it's time, Maggie decided as she glanced up at the clock over the door. It was eleven-thirty and late enough for everyone except a couple of night nurses to have gone home. She scooted to the side of her bed, then sat quietly for a moment while she dangled her feet over the edge.
       The only lights in the room dimly illuminated a few inches from the floor. Night-lights, which allowed nurses to walk in and peek at her without bumping into anything. It seemed like ample light. She could see the cushioned captain's chair without any problem, and there weren't any obstacles on the cool, bluish tile floor.
       "Okay, Rand," she mumbled. "Go for it." Setting her teeth tightly, Maggie rose from the bed.
       Oh glory, her shoulder ached, and right now it didn't seem as if she would ever heal. The hospital was beginning to seem like home. What a disgusting idea. She had to get her derriere out of low gear and walk away from here.
       Ben told her that he agreed with Doctor Clive about the time and exercises it would take for her muscles to work normally again. He'd also thought she might want to call on a specialist to repair the scars on her shoulder. She didn't care what it looked like. What she cared about was that it functioned properly. With a new baby, she would need both arms.
       Maggie rubbed her fingertips nervously across her eyes. Besides ... she hadn't seen the wound yet, hadn't wanted to see it -- Be honest, Rand, you haven't had the nerve to look at yourself.
       "Stop thinking about other things," she told herself bluntly, "and get your concentration on that chair."
       Maggie counted her steps for willpower as she carefully shuffled forward. Cheryl had said, "Keep your back straight -- don't hunch over or you'll lose your balance." Gently as possible, Maggie sat down on the seat and sucked in a deep breath.
       How could a chair seem so darned far away at only about eight feet?
       Well, getting there had dissipated every ounce of her energy, and if she didn't rest for several minutes, she would never manage the return trip to that bed. She leaned back in the chair and tried to get comfortable. It wasn't working. The seat seemed to have lumps in all the places she didn't.
       She flicked a glance across the room to the bed and its soft pillows and comfortably firm mattress.
       Right now, that bed looked perfectly lovely and exactly where she'd rather be. It totally escaped Maggie that only a few hours ago she'd wished never to so much as sit on one again.
       If she didn't move soon, it wasn't hard to imagine what the headlines would read ... Injured Pregnant Woman Found in Hospital Fused to Chair.... It would probably continue with darkly captioned words about her being Beaten by Enraged Doctor.
         * * * *
       Enough is enough, Ben thought as he flipped the patient chart in front of him closed and yawned. He glanced at his watch, pushed away from the massive, walnut desk, and shifted to his feet. God, he couldn't keep this up. Arriving here at seven in the morning and not leaving until almost midnight was making him feel old real fast. His schedule was becoming old for the nurses, too; they were getting sick of seeing him.
       He shrugged out of his white hospital jacket and hung it on the oak coat tree near the window. After he turned the key to lock the office, he signaled good night to the nurse seated at the nurses' station. As he walked along the hall, a strong pull he couldn't identify compelled him to brake in front of Maggie's door.
       He hadn't returned to her room today, and although Doctor Clive and Cheryl had read the monitor earlier and given him a full report, maybe he'd better check on it himself. If he didn't, it would predictably nag him like a person trying to remember if he put out the cat after leaving on vacation.
       Maggie was most likely dreaming happily by now, so he would do his best not to disturb her.
       When Ben pushed the door open, the light from the hall flared into her startled eyes. Why had he thought she would be asleep? This woman never did what he expected.
       "What are you up to now?" he demanded roughly, stepping into the room. When he saw the apprehensive look in her eyes, he changed tactics. It didn't matter how he was feeling about finding her exactly where he'd ordered her not to be, he didn't need to scare her. She had enough problems. He knelt beside her chair and looked into her startled, pale features. "Well?"
       "I -- I needed to move," Maggie stuttered, her right hand twisting her hospital robe into a wrinkled disaster. She took in a deep breath and stared at him. "Being in that bed is driving me crazy. I -- I wasn't up to anything, except moving around."
       It was easy for Ben to understand her feelings; he'd been there, and he'd been a lousy patient.
       Lord, Maggie thought. He'd scared her when he came into the room so unexpectedly. Her heart was still pounding like a snare drum on the roll. She'd been sitting for a half hour, and the stiff soreness in her body made her restless and her stomach queasy. Then she'd tried standing up, but her limbs were stiff and wobbly, and with dizziness added, she was certain of a fall. If she fell -- Glory. She couldn't face the consequences.
       Maggie looked at him, the consequences, kneeling by her chair. She couldn't tell him about it -- he would really start on her.
       "Okay, so now that you're up," Ben said, clasping her hand lightly, "how does it feel?"
       "It hurts," she muttered, deciding to take a chance on telling him how she was feeling. "But I'm too tired to go back yet. I -- I thought I'd simply rest here for a while." She was being perfectly honest for a change. Well ... almost. Maggie glanced away from him and gripped the corner of her lower lip with her teeth.
       He stood up, leaned over, and scooped her into his arms. "See how simple it can be to get back to your bed? You didn't have to do a thing, aside from look at me with eyes that can melt some portions of a man and -- scorch others -- "
       '"Thank you," she said weakly. The feel of rippling muscles under her cheek aroused heat she would do well to ignore. Maggie hoped he would think her cheeks were flaming because she'd been sitting longer than she should have. It was a long shot. He was too perceptive for her own good.
       After he laid her on the bed, Maggie nestled into her pillow. It had to be the world's softest cushion, and she'd been away from it entirely too long.
       She has a miraculous way of finding my weak spots, Ben decided. Because of the stubborn tilt of her chin and total lack of need-for-protection he saw in her eyes, a desire to do just that ate like strong acid into the barrier Ben had purposely built. He had to keep any involvements from progressing beyond friendship. The barrier, which concealed and protected him from commitments that didn't mesh successfully in real life, parted like the Red Sea, exposing potent new possibilities for the future and beckoning him forward.
       Ben no longer tried to restrain himself. He leaned over and stroked her pouting lower lip lightly with the tip of his tongue, tasting it, relishing it. She was fighting within herself, but he felt her capitulation when her lips softened and opened to his.
       Maggie brought her hand up and touched him gently on the side of his face near his ear, and he closed his eyes as her slender fingers slid into his hair.
       A pleasurable excitement kindled, then spread through his body, brought on by her sweet response to the caress of his lips. He caressed her tummy lightly, taking pleasure from the delicate roundness against his palm.
       He realized she had overexerted herself -- he must stop this. He forced himself to move back slightly.
       Maggie's hand slipped away from his face and lay against his chest. Her smile gently creased the corners of her contoured lips, her eyes luminous, but she said nothing.
       Ben relaxed his palm across her swollen abdomen no harder than the down of a feather.
       The infant who nestled there kicked his hand. Ben leaned over and kissed the spot of motion while a sudden and almost painful sensation tugged at his heart, seeming to grab a tight hold that couldn't let go.
       "He objects to being in bed so long, too." His voice sounded rough with the sudden emotion still gripping his spirit solid and fierce. Ben nuzzled the corner of her lips, barely touching her. He wanted her, wanted this child he'd watched on the scope and listened to so many times, but to want a woman such as Maggie would take them on a road pitted with frustrations and dead-ends. Unless it was paved with togetherness and promises -- 
       Exactly the kind of road he'd avoided all his adult life.
       The brush of his lips on her abdomen was the most erotically sensual experience Maggie had ever had. "Yes, or the baby feels my frustration," she managed through her taut throat.
       She didn't want him to stop kissing her.
       If he backed away from her now, she would feel desolate. She was no longer alone; and he made her feel alive and fascinated and sensitive to everything surrounding her.
       A raging tide of longing, washed over her. The nagging discomfort she suffered before he lifted her back to bed was receding, assuaged by his gentle caresses. And the baby's reaction to him had coursed through her, straight to her soul.
       "Hummm, this could become delightfully habit forming," he groaned against her lips.
       Every new discovery about this man was compelling her to love him. But, disaster would happen to him. Maggie could feel panic rise like bile in her throat. She had no right to endanger him, or foist her maze of problems on him.
       Maggie turned her head away from him. "No, please -- please, go away." Her voice grew irritated, more angry because she had to drive him out of her heart. "Just go away." She couldn't read his expression, but the look in his eyes was as soft as black velvet.
       Ben trailed a finger across her cheek. "Okay, Maggie, you are calling the shots."
       He touched her mouth with a final kiss, and pulled himself to his feet, smiling. "Good night, sweetheart, dream of me," he said quietly, as he walked toward the door.
       "Dream of him." Every segment of her body was jangling, alive with feeling for him. His deep, rich voice vibrated through her -- 
       "Please, don't go," she whispered.
       "Did you say something?" He stopped with his hand on the door.
       "No," she croaked gravely. She moaned dejectedly, staring at the door as it closed behind him.
       "You have to sleep to dream don't you?" Maggie punched the pillow with her right hand.
       How on earth would she be able to sleep?
       Well, she'd wanted him to leave, hadn't she?
       Sure -- his going relieves the way my body aches under the bandages, she thought, taunting herself, and cures the way I miss the companionship that just walked out the door.
       When he'd moved away she'd felt deserted again, totally alone again, and the intangible ache of aloneness made her head throb. She placed her hand to her eyes and massaged between them with her fingertips.
       If only he would have allowed her the circle of his strength a little longer.... Selfish, that was what she was, otherwise she wouldn't be wanting him to risk his safety by being too close to her. The constant contradictions of her thoughts were a chaos she could do nicely without. It was quickly driving her crazy.
       She hadn't taken any pain or sleeping medicines for a couple of days. Maggie looked over at the call light. Maybe she would call a nurse and ask for something -- anything, to block out the hopelessness rioting through her.
       Did he realize the state he just left me in?
       "Probably not," Maggie answered her own question. She had, after all, pulled away from him -- hadn't said aloud what anxieties tugged at her mind. Maggie dropped her hand away from her eyes.
       Self-pity settled over Maggie like a thundercloud as she released the well of tears in her eyes, and with them, painful uncontrollable sobs. Oh Lord, how that hurt. She was suddenly aware she couldn't do anything to make it stop. She'd cried self-pityingly only once since her family's fatal accident on a steep mountain road, and she'd vowed never to allow it to happen again. So much for vows, she couldn't do anything about it. The release she needed was turning into a dam.
       "How could he do this to me?" she gasped out between shuddering sobs. He'd done nothing to her; she efficiently managed to get herself into this all by herself. She wanted to scream at the walls just to relieve tension; only she couldn't catch a breath between the sobs that racked out of control.
         * * * *
       Ben hesitated outside Maggie's room and listened to the pain-filled sounds of her crying. He reached out to open her door, stopped midway, and dropped his arm heavily. He leaned his shoulder against the wall and his forehead against the door jam.
       No, he had to leave her alone. He would have one of the nurses check on her in a little while, but he would leave her alone. If he went back in, he would make her feel worse. They needed to talk. Maybe by tomorrow she would open up to him and allow him to understand what gnawed at her so arduously.
       He had to leave. He couldn't stand listening to her; it was tearing his heart out. He pulled himself away from the wall. The persistent sound vibrating from inside the room molded a tight band around his chest, and his eyes ached with pressure.
       He walked down the hall fully aware that going home wasn't going to make any difference; he would hear her all night. She filled his mind....
         * * * *
       The following morning he found that trying to read Maggie's chart through bloodshot eyes was fruitless. Ben couldn't see the blurred words. He wanted to know what kind of night she had before he made his rounds and spoke with Doc Clive.
       Ben glanced up and saw Cheryl approaching him. There was a definite stiffness in her carriage; her glower was clearly one of disapproval.
       "What did you do to poor Maggie last night?" Cheryl demanded impatiently. "She is feeling absolutely miserable this morning, and is behaving totally dejected. Also, she is running a low-grade fever, and the new lab report says her electrolytes are still imbalanced."
       Ben turned toward Cheryl. Why bother to deny it? He couldn't hide the guilt that had to be written all over his face. He wasn't going to get any sympathy from Cheryl. She was madder than hell and tapping her toe impatiently. Not a good sign.
       He reached in his pocket for a pen and wrote down medication orders for correcting Maggie's electrolyte problem. "Yeah," he said gruffly, "you're right. Maggie's frame of mind this morning could have a lot to do with a visit from me last night. I stopped to see her, and she was sitting in a chair across the room. Somehow she managed to get there alone, so I've a feeling she's working toward sneaking out of here."
       The expression on Cheryl's face changed swiftly to skepticism, which let Ben know she wasn't at all satisfied with his words. "Okay! Okay, I admit I jangled some of her buried emotions to the surface. Getting her mad at me seems to work very well." Among other things -- things he had no intentions of relating to Cheryl. Like, he'd fallen in love for the first time in his life and would most probably allow it to slide away from him.
       "Well, it isn't 'working' this morning. She won't look at, or speak to, anyone, and she has such a strange look in her eyes. I don't know what's going on in her thoughts, yet I am positive that something is terribly wrong, and I'm powerless to do anything about it." Cheryl's green eyes stabbed at him while she waited for his response. She would never let up until he made a decision.
       "All right -- all right, I will see her, but I'll do it last on my rounds and after I speak with Doc. I have to consider the problems thoroughly before I see her again." He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck.
       Hell. He'd been thinking about it all night.
       Cheryl turned to walk away. "Wait a minute, Cheryl. I told Joe to bring in two horses this morning. You and I will go for our monthly ride today and discuss this again before I see her."
       Cheryl looked at him reflectively for a moment and sighed. "Okay, what time? Or do you want to page me when you're ready?"
       "I'll page you. It will be easiest that way for both of us." Every month they took an afternoon and rode quietly for an hour and talked about difficulties in the clinic/hospital or about specific patients. It was always worth the effort.
       "Cheryl, the only approach that manages to boost her enough to care about life, is to keep her provoked with me. If she would just talk to us. Something scares her, and whatever the hell it is, I believe it forces her to run. If we could -- Never mind, we'll discuss it after rounds. Maybe you'll have ideas I can't come up with, and we'll present them to Doc."
       She nodded and moved down the hall. "I certainly hope you're right, Doctor," she said. "But I wish Doctor James were here. I think if anyone could get through to Maggie it would be him."
       Some vote of confidence -- moreover, she was probably right. James had a way with pregnant women that no one could surpass; however, they didn't have time to wait for James and his charisma. James had another week of playing at which-ever fishing hole he'd entrenched himself, and coming back early wouldn't be in his thoughts.
       The continued electrolyte imbalance the lab report showed would cause some of Maggie's depression and agitation and dizziness. It was proving to be a stubborn condition, but he was getting closer to clearing it up. Even James's charisma couldn't have hurried that.
         * * * *
       This was getting her nowhere. She'd been thinking all morning about Doctor Ben Karr and what happened last night. Maggie tried to forget the episode, but she couldn't, and reviewing it was bruising her emotions even more.
       He deserted her when she needed him. His tender caresses had pulled her from the abyss of loneliness for a few minutes, then he let her tumble back into it without a backward glance.
       But why had she wanted to cling to him? Because the affection that traversed between them was so honest, so naturally real, it was as though she'd already known the texture of him, the smell of him, the spirit of him, for a lifetime.
       It had become so dark and quiet in the room after he left that Maggie felt as if she were suddenly deposited on the moon -- alone -- forever. Even the baby's movements hadn't helped this time. The aloneness hit brutally, slicing at her heart, then became more disturbing than she could tolerate.
       The nurses had helped her up a while before breakfast. Now she was back in bed, feeling dizzy and confused and expended, her chest hurt, and her self-pity was becoming disgusting. She didn't want to surrender to the feelings -- couldn't allow them to reach her. Never!
       With her eyes closed, Maggie rested against her pillow and pushed her fingers against her temple. Oh, God, if she could just speak with Sue. Sue had a way of lifting you up when you were flat on your face, and she could always unearth words with a humor that prevented you from thinking life was nothing but so much bird do-do on a fence post.
       She sighed, closing her eyes, fatigue numbing her, claiming her....
         * * * *
       "I've got to get out of here," she murmured, pushing the sheet back. The illogical but proven likelihood of causing injury to Ben because she cared about him, and the possibilities of Ken walking in any minute, were pressures she could live without.
       She moved slowly off the side of the bed. Thankfully, her robe was already on her right arm, and draped over her left shoulder from being up earlier. Maggie rummaged about in the closet with her foot until she found her shoes and shoved her feet into them.
       She shuffled shakily to the door and leaned on the doorframe while she caught her breath and bolstered her courage. She opened the door and peered down the corridor.
       It was empty.
       She pulled her robe more snugly around her, straightened and made her way across the hall and out a door marked EXIT. For a moment dizziness made the rough, adobe walls turn, but she didn't dare stop to let it pass.
       Maggie expelled a long sigh of relief that she hadn't met up with anyone and pushed open the second set of doors.
       Outside, shaded under a sprawling Oak tree adjacent to the building, she found two horses tethered to a long, weather-beaten hitch-rail. The largest horse ranged tall, a strong-boned, black animal, and fastened to his saddle were a bed roll and saddle bags. He arched his neck proudly, flaring his wide nostrils while gazing at her. Then he nickered to her as if he had asked a question, and stomped a foot because she didn't answer him fast enough.
       Beside him stood a small, liver-chestnut mare with flowing flaxen mane. She regarded Maggie with large, soft brown eyes.
       Maggie edged closer to the mare and touched her satiny muzzle. The horse rubbed gently against her hand and made a low snorting sound. "You're beautiful," Maggie murmured, caressing her silky neck.
       Maggie shivered. The chill of the early morning air filtered through her cotton hospital robe and pajamas as if she were naked.
       Maggie scanned the landscape. The location of the hospital was conspicuously at the edge of the town. She could see the limits of the town clearly defined by the abrupt termination of lush, green trees, while the land beyond was nourishing shorter shrubs and tall, dried what-ever it was growing out there. She would head toward the mountains and away from this place. Away from Ken -- She'd made her choice, and he had the power to block her from looking for the new life she desperately wanted. Nothing was worth subjecting herself to him.
       Awkwardly, she set her left foot in the stirrup, stretched her right arm up and grasped the saddle horn. She needed to use her left arm badly. "You won't believe this, pretty lady, but I truly have ridden before," she said as she hopped clumsily and pulled herself up into the saddle. The mare stood perfectly still as though she were familiar with ungainly riders.
       Tears rolled down Maggie's heated cheeks. The strain on her shoulder and chest settled about her, sharp and excruciating. Maggie placed her hand firmly over her mouth to stifle the moan that pushed against her throat, and blinked her eyes rapidly in an attempt to take away the sudden blurring of her vision.
       There wasn't any alternative; she had to sit still. Her shoulder burned so badly she could hardly breath -- the world was spinning madly. I can't faint now, she bemoaned, fighting off the black-tide flowing behind her eyes. As she waited quietly, her dizziness ebbed slightly, then she turned the mare toward the mountains.
       There was a warm sensation on her left shoulder. Maggie glanced sideways, groaning inwardly when she saw the dark-red stain spreading under the bandages. The sight of it brought a picture of Ben's handsome face to her mind.
       She could clearly see his high-cheek boned features, supporting an angry frown; she could clearly see his straight, well-shaped nose, flaring angrily at her.
       He would swear at her with his wide, seductively defined mouth.
       Then he would kiss her for punishment. Only his choice of punishment delivered a pleasure she couldn't describe.
       "Ben would be so furious if he could see this," she sighed. His eyes would be flashing black as coal ... coal on fire and ready to burn her.
       When I make mistakes, they are darned good ones, Maggie told herself disgustedly. She tried to estimate how long she'd been sitting on the horse; however, time seemed to have escaped her.
       The scorching sun beat down harshly on Maggie's bare head. I must be approaching hell, she decided morosely, and Satan will be poking his head out from behind a boulder any second. Sweat trickled down the side of her face, and her pajama top stuck to her body.
       It didn't help that her stomach tossed in rebellion while her mouth felt as dry as the sand the horse walked in. Maggie pictured a large glass of ice water floating enticingly in front of her face. Then she heard Josh's voice urgently saying, "Don't trust him, Maggie. He will harm you." Then, Josh's voice faded, "He caused...."
       She looked around trying to find Josh. "Where are you?" she called out. He'd sounded as if he were standing nearby. "Who do you mean? What did he cause?" But there was only silence, and no answers to her questions.
       Then, motion stopped.
       The horse stood dead still, and Maggie glanced at her surroundings, trying to straighten up and keep her balance in the saddle. The mountains still looked miles away.
       "Rest. I need some rest," she whispered. "What a day," she sighed, experiencing a wonderful sensation of buoyancy and weightlessness as if she were a feather drifting along on a soft breeze, and the sensations made her forget Josh's warning, forget looking for him.
       What the hell was she doing out here anyway? Oh, yes, getting away from Ken.
       Glory, did pain take your mind and turn it to jelly? Well, she didn't feel any pain right now, and she wanted Ben. It was too bad wanting wouldn't conjure him up, and it was a little late to decide dodging Ken wasn't the answer. If she ever got out of this mess, and right now it didn't appear likely, she was through playing hide-and-seek with Ken. He wasn't going to stop her from doing what she had to do.
       "I wish Ben were here," she mumbled to the mare. The horse snorted and bobbed her head but didn't move forward. "I have to go along with you on that, little mare," Maggie agreed huskily, brushing the hair out of her eyes. Inexplicably, her arm weighed a ton.
       "I think you're right. We could use him right now," she moaned, rubbing her fingers near her eyes. Every thing she tried to think about seemed so confused, so numb, and she couldn't understand why.
       "Only problem with that is -- I think I forgot to tell him I was going anywhere. It seems as though being smart hasn't been on my list of things-to-do for quite a while."
       The mare murmured in response and bobbed her head again.
       Smugness from a horse was a little hard to take.
       "Okay. So, you're right. But what do we do now?" If only she weren't lightheaded, she might think of an answer.
       The mare stepped forward slowly.
--------
         *Chapter 10*
       It was nine-thirty when Ben got up from behind his desk and walked briskly back and forth across the chocolate-colored carpet in his office. He stopped in front of the windows, peering vacantly between the cream-colored blind slats. "I have got to snap out of this." He shoved both hands through his hair, feeling like a damned coward because he still hadn't gone to see Maggie.
       He pivoted, opened his top desk drawer, and pulled out a photo of Maggie and her sons; the wind blew their hair, and broad smiles crinkled their faces as they rode horses in a ranch setting. When he'd gone through her album, he'd taken it out. Although at the time, he had no idea why. The only reason he'd gone through it in the first place was to learn something about her. About the only thing he hadn't discovered was the reason for her being on his ranch.
       "You have the finesse of a damn bull," he grated, his tone savage, disgusted with himself for the way he'd handled things last night.
       He never should have walked away. He should have gone in, comforted her, and somehow eased the heavy emotions that wrenched her so intensely. From now on, he would follow his instinct with Maggie; and to bloody hell with his persistent notion that logic was the best approach to resolve difficulties. Especially since it proved time and time again that humans and logic were not synonymous, that they were not machines, and were not about to be that easy to understand.
       When he had finished rounds an hour ago, he avoided seeing her, putting it off, trying to decipher and shape up his bleary feelings. Everything was wrong, all wrong. He would have to change tactics.
       Maybe if he just relaxed when he came near Maggie, she would trust him enough to talk with him.
       He tried to concentrate on the cool colors in the ocean painting on the office wall. He shifted his focus to the rugged beach house in the scene. "Relax!" It was easy to relax, until he came close to Maggie. The minute he was in range of her hazel eyes, emotions mobilized within him that provoked ideas far removed from relaxation and being uninvolved. A secluded candle-lit dinner, accompanied by a crackling fire, intimate music and fine wine, all combined with naked bodies and murmured passionate words couldn't have drawn him to her with near the potency of how she could tantalize him. Tantalize him, with her gentle touch, with her soft, slightly gravelly voice, with her vital strength and determination to realize the independent mission she'd set for herself and her child. Then she could irritate him to distraction with her persistent distrust.
       Ben tossed the photo back in the long, heavy drawer and slammed it shut. He would page Cheryl and they would go for their ride; then he would see Maggie.
         * * * *
       As Ben pulled his horse to a walk near her, Maggie felt his presence. He had come to her. She needed him, and he'd come. When he mumbled something about not wanting to spook the other horse, Maggie was hunching forward with the reins hanging loosely, and she tried to straighten up. If he did scare her horse, Maggie knew she would surely get dumped onto the sharp rocks.
       The mare gave him a whistled, high-pitched welcome as he rode closer, crooning softly until he was directly beside her. Ben leaned sideways, plucked Maggie from the saddle, swinging her into his arms, and turning her body until she was resting snugly against him. The breath Ben sucked in when he saw the blood saturated left side of her robe sounded raw and hard.
       "Hang on, sweetheart. Hang on," he murmured to her and turned his horse in the direction of the hospital.
       Feeling weak, Maggie tried to open her eyes, tried to lick cracked, dry lips. Her eyelids flickered slightly when he caressed her cheek with his fingers. It seemed that a forceful tremble coiled through him.
       "Maggie, look at me, sweetheart," he murmured. He talked, telling her he wasn't sure when it happened, or why, but he loved her, and she was killing him along with herself. Somehow she'd stolen his heart, and although he could never ask her to give up the independence she wanted so badly in exchange for the half-shared life he could offer, he would fight and win against her contradictory wish for self-destruction.
       "Ahh, Maggie," he choked, tightening his embrace.
       She forced her eyes open, needing desperately to see him. Ben should be really mad at her for something. What had it been? Oh yes, being outside, leaving, and ruining her bandages again. He doesn't look mad, she thought. The compassion in his eyes as he held her, caressing her cheek, made her heart wrench.
       Her shoulder felt numb, and she had the sensation of floating on a cloud, an air-soft cloud. Her head rested high against his muscled shoulder and the smell of sweat and leather and horses added to the merciful sense of well-being that exquisitely, softly, enveloped her.
       "Ben," she groaned huskily. "I -- I'll be okay you know, now that you're here. Fine -- I'm fine now. Please, a cold drink...." Her voice faded as she drew in a shuddering breath. He leaned slightly and brushed his warm lips across hers. She watched as he balanced his canteen on his chest with his free hand and twisted it open. He moistened a clean cloth from his pack and held it to her lips, allowing her only a few drops of water.
       "Thank you for coming," she whispered, nestling her head closer to him. It didn't seem possible that he was actually here; that now, she could nestle in the cradle of his arms and listen to his heartbeat.
       "Anytime, sweetheart, but," he murmured, his warm breath fanning lightly across her cheek, "I hope you plan on giving up this sort of activity."
       "Oh, yes," she whispered, knowing positively that she would not attempt anything remotely similar again.
       A stiff, strained expression darted across his face, then vanished. "Were you running from me, sweetheart?" he asked quietly, giving her a few more drops of water.
       It was clear to her from the tightness of his voice, and the pain etched in his eyes, that she had distressed him fiercely. Had she been running from him? She wasn't running from anyone.
       "I -- I don't think I would run from anyone. No, avoiding Ken, I think." She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Most of her life she'd been so certain about her decisions, but the past few months just seemed like an out-of-control bad dream, and the last few days were the worst of all. "I'm not certain what I was doing." She groaned. "But I made a choice -- he can't make me change my mind."
       "This Ken, did you see him?"
       Maggie opened her eyes. Did she see him? "No, but he'll come. I know he'll come." Maggie tried to take hold of Ben's shirt. "Please don't tell him where I am," she pleaded. At least not until she could stand up and spit in his eye. Ken wanted to force her into destitution. She couldn't allow it. Providing for her child came first, would always come first.
       Ben tried to calm her. "It's all right, sweetheart, I won't tell him anything." She relaxed against him. He seemed to mean what he was saying; that was all that mattered.
       "No more intimidation," she mumbled with the hope he could hear and understand. "No more avoiding the inevitable, and no more going anywhere until I'm strong enough to get there."
       She glanced toward the northwest and at the mountains. They no longer looked beautiful, or welcoming; they had become shrouded with an eerie shadow as if something were about to happen there, and the soft cloud fell away from her. Maggie could feel Ken's aggressive presence -- he was nearby. Face him, she must face him.
       "The baby -- cramps...."
         * * * *
       Blinking she looked at her hand balanced on the cold wood. Her fingers no longer clutched the soft fabric of Ben's shirt. She opened her eyes wider and found herself leaning against the desk at the nurse's station. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her hospital pajamas clung soggily to her. She turned her head and looked out the window behind the desk. Ben and Cheryl were riding away from the hospital. Ben was astride the big black, and Cheryl was riding the little mare.
       How did she get back to the hospital so quickly? Why were they leaving her when she felt so ill? The cramp began in her back and radiated over her abdomen again.
       Maggie tried hanging onto the nurse's desk, her head swimming, the room tilting. Then darkness came and her legs would no longer support her.
         * * * *
       Ben and Cheryl weren't even off the hospital grounds before his beeper went off and he heard Joe's summons. For some reason he'd felt uneasy when he mounted Shadow, and before Joe spoke, he knew something had happened to Maggie. They raced into the hospital, and as Ben knelt over Maggie, he could feel her distress. It was in the sudden tenseness of her body while he touched her in his examination, and it was present in her barely audible, pain-filled whisper as she slipped into unconsciousness.
       At least she had sounded rational about having cramps, although he felt certain she didn't know what the hell she'd been doing. There was a possibility she wouldn't even remember walking down the hall. The strangest part was she hadn't appeared to have had a hard fall, yet the dressing on her shoulder was dark with blood. Her fever could have caused her profuse perspiring, yet the red tinge on her cheeks looked as if she were sunburned.
       He lifted her shoulders securely in his arms, whispering assurances to her, assurances he wanted to believe. If she lost this child, the problems he'd been having with her would double. She had been in and out of consciousness several times in the few minutes he'd been there. Sweat was trickling down Ben's forehead and into his eyes, causing them to burn harshly. This was all too familiar, cradling an unconscious Maggie; he could have done nicely without a rerun.
       He looked at Cheryl. "We need a gurney from the emergency room." He watched her hurry away.
       "Doc?"
       "Yeah, Joe?" Ben was glad he had had Joe remodeling one of the offices. Though he hadn't been able to stop her fall, he had been close enough to hear her cry.
       "Laural just said Doctor James has come in."
       "He wasn't due back for another week." In his preoccupation Ben hadn't even heard the conversation between Joe and the young secretary.
       Joe nodded in agreement. "While you were examining Mrs. Rand, I took a chance and had the desk secretary call his home. She said he'd just gotten back from his trip.
       "You'll need some help, Doc. Do you suppose it's an omen?"
       "If you mean an answer to a prayer, yes, I think you're right. Maybe I'm getting better in the prayer department."

       Joe grinned. "Practice makes perfect -- so I've been told -- mostly by Cheryl."
       His partner James Rogers, and two nurses, hurried down the long hallway, rolling a surgery stretcher between them. James was three inches shorter than Ben, agile, muscular, and a skilled mountain climber, who was in demand each time some would-be climber found himself, or herself, injured or lost. There would never be another doctor Ben would rather have for a partner and friend than the man who walked forward now to assist him.
       Ben watched the other man swing the gurney to the side. James was in his late thirties, brown hair and blue eyes, a man always serious in his profession and full of humor the rest of the time.
       "I'm sure glad to see you, ol' son," Ben said tiredly, as James and Joe moved Maggie to the gurney.
       After the nurses tucked a light blanket over her, James turned back to Ben. "I bet you are," James agreed. "At least you're consistent and can't be left alone a minute without getting into some sort of bind." James's blue eyes focused hard on Ben. "Dammit, man, you look as if you've been on a ride to Hades and back."
       Ben waved him away. Though it was strange -- ten minutes on his horse and he felt as if he'd been riding for hours. "Have the nurses hurry with her, James. I'm headed to scrub up. We'll take care of her in surgery instead of emergency." The equipment would be better and it would be easier on all of them.
       After James dropped back to instruct the nurses, he hurriedly caught up with Ben as he shouldered through the surgery doors.
       "The last coherent thing she said to me was she felt cramping and was connecting it with the baby," Ben explained. "While I examined her, I didn't feel any contractions, but that could mean nothing."
       "I'm the baby doctor here," James stated, giving Ben a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You let me handle my specialty while we're in surgery, that way you'll be free to do yours."
       They entered the surgery area pulling off their shirts. Ben turned toward James. "Maggie's condition doesn't look serious enough to warrant any assistance from the hospital in Safford. Cheryl will call Doc Clive so he'll know you're here to take over Maggie's care."
       James stared at him. "You're involved in this a little deeper than usual," he said heavily. "Is there something I should know about?"
       It wasn't hard for Ben to catch his friend's meaning. "No. You won't have to worry regarding my judgment in there," Ben said, nodding toward surgery as he flipped on the tap, dunking his hands and arms under the rush of water. "I'll discuss all the background when we get finished."
         * * * *
       Earlier that same morning, Sue Campbell stood her ground as Kenneth Remley stood in her living room, eyeing her with speculation, and telling her how much he missed and loved Maggie.
       "Mrs. Campbell, it is imperative that I speak with Maggie right away," he said amiably. "I've been paying her bills, but new problems have cropped up that need Maggie's immediate attention. Now if you'll just let your husband know I'm here, we can get down to business."
       This man had to be lying, and he absolutely wasn't making any sense. "I'm sorry, Mr. Remley, but Jacob isn't here. He won't be back for a couple of hours, and we still haven't heard from Maggie." It wasn't a lie; she hadn't talked to Maggie. "Did you have an appointment?"
       Jacob was still investigating this man, and she wasn't about to divulge anything to him until Jacob said it was okay. And Kenneth Remley was about to learn that Jacob Tyler Campbell could ferret out why a shoestring was in the wrong shoe in a murder case.
       Ken withdrew a business card from his suit pocket, handed it toward her, and Sue accepted it, reluctantly. "No, no appointment, but I'll come back this afternoon anyway because I need to speak to him. Your husband already has my card, but if you receive any word from Maggie, please advise me immediately. It is absolutely crucial that I meet with her."
       From behind her, Sue heard her ten-year old say, "Mom, is he from La Vista, Arizona -- Is Mrs. Rand okay? Gee, I really miss -- "
       Sue mentally cringed as her stomach did a sequence of zigzags against the bottom of her rib cage. The child was ulcer material, and he wasn't nicknamed "the talker" for nothing. "Mike," Sue interrupted him quickly, knowing it was already too late. "He's not from the hospital. Now, go out the back door and play." Mike had spent lots of time at Maggie's house. Sue knew how much he cared for her.
       Straightening her spinal column to give herself courage-building height, Sue scrutinized her uninvited guest, noting the frosty, hostile expression in his eyes, and amazed at how all his pretense of friendliness appeared to slither right out of him. A few words from her son, and an entirely transformed man was standing before her. Jacob should be here to see this, Sue thought, then remembered she'd activated the video surveillance camera when she answered the door. It was now sweeping the living room and entryway with its ever-seeing lens. Sue smiled. And to think, just yesterday, she'd hated that camera.
       Well, she might not have any further reasons to muddle through evasiveness, but she didn't have to explain anything to him either. Let the man surmise the details himself.
       "I guess you don't need any more information, Mr. Remley," she said, indicating the door with a swing of her hand.
       "You're correct, Mrs. Campbell. I believe the facts I have just heard are quite sufficient. Thank you, you've most likely saved me a bundle of money," he said, his tone never losing the cordial quality that wasn't reflecting in his eyes; nonetheless inferring that Jacob would have charged him for non-information. "It's been a pleasure," he added, stepping out of the house.
       Sue slammed the door. "Oh joy!" Sue flung out exasperated, talking to the closed door. "I've got to warn Ben Karr that the animal has escaped from the zoo, let out by an over-inquisitive, but loving, ten-year-old chatter box." One whose daddy will predictably have a king-size fit when he finds out.
         * * * *
       It's been one hell of a long day, Ben thought as he watched Cheryl walk toward the table where he and James sat nursing strong coffee.
       "Unless there is something else I need to do for you, Doctors, I'm going home," Cheryl said, pulling off her surgery cap.
       James winked at her and blew her a kiss. "Not a thing, my lady, you may go home and collapse. Doctor's orders."
       Cheryl waved a hand at them and disappeared out the door.
       Ben's eyes felt as if they could literally fall out of his face. "Well, everything went smoothly this evening. Maggie's health seems inherently strong and her pregnancy stable. We'll know for certain by morning," he said wearily, glancing across the table into a pair of blue eyes that looked as miserable as his felt.
       "Right now," James sighed, setting his cup down, "it appears as if the baby is doing excellently. The heart is strong with no distress indicated, and if Maggie had any contractions before you arrived, she hasn't experienced any more." He stretched his arms and tipped his chair back on two legs. "My biggest worry for the little tyke was Maggie's fever. I could have sworn the baby smiled at me on the scope."
       James lifted his coffee cup to his lips. "What we had to do for Maggie was basic, especially in comparison with the last two patients. We'll have to transfer them to Tucson's medical units as soon as it becomes feasible."
       After shoving his chair back, Ben stood up and walked to the window that allowed the doctors and nurses to observe the patients in the recovery room on the other side. Maggie was in her room, but they had two accident victims to watch intensively.
       He looked over his shoulder at James. "Maggie lucked out -- this time. Now if we can just keep her in one place and quiet long enough to heal, we'll luck out." She ripped some tissue loose, but a week's worth of healing had been in her favor.
       James studied him for a moment. "I have a feeling that today's experiences will subdue her roaming ways."
       "Maybe, if she can remember any of it." God, he hoped so, but right now Ben was too bushed to think about it.
       Five minutes after they had Maggie settled comfortably, he and Cheryl received a call out to a remote accident on highway 70 because the La Vista hospital was the closest emergency service with an air ambulance. The injuries were serious, life threatening, and other services too far away. He and Jim worked with the Sheriff's and highway departments on these situations.
       He'd used his helicopter to fly the man and woman in expeditiously. As soon as their conditions became stable, a Life-Flight would come in from Tucson to transport them to a larger facility.
       "Ben, go home and get some sleep. I'll be here to keep an eye on all of them. If there is the slightest change with Maggie, I'll call you."
       James was using his bedside-persuasive voice, and Ben squelched an overwhelming urge to laugh at his friend's diligent efforts. James was Maggie's doctor now; she was in good hands.
       Ben walked back to the table, unbuttoning his hospital jacket. "Okay -- but anything, any little thing, and that phone had better ring."
       Amazed James's eyes zeroed in on Ben. "You're going to leave without a struggle?"
       He tossed his jacket across the room into the hamper beside the door. "Don't look so damned startled. I need some sleep very badly right this minute. I can't afford to make any mistakes, and right now I couldn't doctor a sick cat without killing it."
       "Don't you look so damned frustrated," James returned with equal bluntness. "You've always recognized what you require to be at your best. I'm proud of you, my friend. I have to admit I was a little nervous -- especially with the stress you're under. I should have known better. One of the best surgeons in the country isn't about to slip-up just because of a little emotion."
       Ben downed the rest of his coffee and placed the cup on the table. "I'm counting on you to call me," he said, backing away. He didn't want to tell James that, for a short while, he, too, wondered about his objective ability, and he wasn't ready to talk to him about any "little emotion" until he understood it better himself.
       "I said I would." James's face broke into a wide grin. "Have I ever let you have as much rest as you needed?"
       "Now that you remind me, no, I can't say I remember any time during this partnership when you've been particularly merciful," Ben said, walking toward the door. "Let's just say I have some getting even to do -- if I ever get rested enough to get even." He continued out the door and headed for the outside exit.
       I'll get some sleep, he thought, as he climbed into his Jeep. It might not be very good sleep, but anything would help at this point. He would have to return here in three hours to relieve James, and he'd better find some energy.
--------
         *Chapter 11*
       Twenty minutes later Ben stopped the Jeep near the back entrance of his massive, Spanish-styled ranch house. It was a strange phenomenon to realize he wasn't at all aware of how he'd gotten there.
       "I'll put it away later," he muttered, cutting the ignition and jamming the keys in his pocket. Tiredness must really be getting to him; he was constantly talking out loud to himself lately.
       He was almost to the back door when a low, intimidating growl came out of the darkness. A whine, then Shane leaped up on him, trying energetically to lick his face. She jumped around with excitement as Cricket barreled around a bush and joined in.
       "Well, at least somebody likes me." Ben laughed and ruffled their fur. "Sorry, girls, but I'm too tired for a wrestling match."
       The dogs followed him through the back door and into the wide, fully equipped kitchen.
       "Ahh, Ben, you look as if you've had a truly rough day." Sarah, Ben's housekeeper, stood in the middle of the kitchen beside the walnut center console. She was stirring something on the stovetop that was flooding the room with a delicious aroma, and looking at him with sympathy and understanding. Sarah was in her early sixties and the spice of life around the ranch. "I've seen you tired before, but this looks serious."
       "Yeah." He yawned. "It's been a lively day, Sarah. I'm a little desperate to sleep for a couple of hours."
       "Sit down and have some milk and cookies before you go off." She hurried on, "Tell me, was it the little lady Maggie?"
       Ben slumped into a captain's chair, placed his elbows on the round, antique table, and rested his chin against his hands. "Did Joe tell you?"
       "He came through here several hours ago and only took time to say a few words. Said he was on his way to stable Shadow, and that he'd stopped at the house to call the veterinarian. My Tim was helping him. Tim thinks Shadow looks good. You know how terrific Tim is with that horse -- probably took him a basket of carrots. He'd have taken him some chocolate cookies if I would have allowed it." She paused, dusting imaginary crumbs from her apron. "Did you say your patient was okay?" Sarah asked, smiling.
       Sarah had been taking care of Ben since he was a child, and he picked up immediately what she was up to. "Maggie is a beautiful woman, Sarah, who's struggling through some rotten times. James and I have just spent a few hours with her and two other emergencies, all of which are doing fine." Ben glanced around the kitchen, and suddenly he knew what was missing; no matter what else happened he had to see Maggie in this house. "Anyway, you would like her -- but you'll find that out for yourself later."
       He wasn't in the mood for having his brain picked by Sarah -- not about Maggie anyway. He was having enough trouble trying to figure it out alone. He picked up his glass of milk, grabbed a fistful of cookies, then headed for his room. A hot shower and sleep were the only things he planned on thinking about right now.
       Shane and Cricket were right on his heels. Ben looked down at them. "All right, girls, you can come along. I could use the company. You don't demand answers to questions, and you don't talk back -- sounds like a winning combination to me."
       Sarah's husband Tim had been on the ranch as long as Sarah. Besides being the finest cowhand cook on the place, Tim had a golden rapport with animals. He wouldn't have to worry about Shadow's care -- 
       Ben made a sudden U-turn back to the kitchen and stuck his head around the corner. "Why the hell did Joe have to call the Vet?"
       "It seems Shadow didn't wait for Joe to trailer him home, and he came in with a leg cut and some bruises. Joe didn't think they were serious, but he said he wasn't taking any chances."
       Ben nodded his head. "Tell Joe I'll check with him later about Shadow. If that phone rings, and it's James, you wake me immediately."
       "I certainly will," she agreed, wiping her hands on a rose-colored dishtowel.
       When Ben came out of the shower, he found the two dogs getting comfortable. The small one was resting on his king-size bed, and the big one was watching him from close by on the floor. He shoved aside the heavy, cream-and-blue striped comforter on his bed. If their mistress were here, the scene would be complete.
       When he laid his head down on his silk-clad pillow, Sarah came into the room. "While you were showering, there was a phone call. Now don't get all excited," Sarah said quickly, as his feet swung over the side of the bed. "It was that Mrs. Campbell from California. She wants you to return her call after you've rested. I forgot to mention to you that she called you a couple of times today."
       "Thanks, Sarah, please remind me again when I wake up. The way I feel right now, I may have trouble remembering my own name." Which was a lie, with the words "phone call," Sarah had gotten his adrenaline coursing rapidly through him and his heart banging on all four cylinders.
       "Lord," he breathed, settling himself back down between the navy-blue sheets. He wasn't looking forward to an extended talk with Sue. If he told her about Maggie's fall, she and her husband would probably come straight out here. He'd kept his promise to update her on Maggie's condition. And after the conversations they'd had the past few days, they were getting to know each other.
       Ben rolled over, trying to get more comfortable and bashing on his pillow with a fist. Cricket eyed him warily and moved to the foot of the bed where she flopped down with her nose between her front paws.
       Maggie had mumbled about Ken again in the recovery room. It was driving him nuts not knowing what went on in her mind, and Sue said Remley was bugging her on the phone almost daily now about Maggie's whereabouts. This was how Sue found out Remley had the police and a private detective searching for Maggie.
       Remley wasn't volunteering to give Sue any answers; he was too busy trying to persuade her to answer his questions. Well, maybe Sue had more to say about it.
       Ben sat up, reached for the phone on the large, walnut stand by his bed, leaned down, and plugged it in. He might as well call Sue. There didn't seem to be any way around it, since it seemed he couldn't close his eyes until he found out what she wanted.
       Giving in to a wide yawn, Ben dialed the number and waited. He stacked both of his pillows alongside the broad bedstead and pushed himself back against them. "Hello, Sue, it's Ben Karr. What's up?"
       "Oh, Ben, I'm glad you called back. Ken Remley was here early this morning, and I'm afraid he now knows where Maggie is. Mike, one of our sweet, but over-talkative children, spilled his little brains."
       Ben couldn't help smiling at this woman's humor. Maggie couldn't have a better friend. "Okay. I will be looking out for him. Have you discovered any reasons why Maggie would be afraid of him?"
       "He did say one thing while he was standing here glaring at me with his eyes and smiling at me with his lips. It didn't make sense to me because I know it's impossible. He said Maggie had promised to marry him. He said it in the middle of telling me how much he missed her, and how he was busy paying her bills -- I almost let the comment get past me. That was when Mike decided to include himself in the conversation."
       "Thanks for the warning, Sue. I'll talk with Maggie about it later. You take care of yourself, and I'll call you back in a couple of days."
       "He'll definitely arrive impeccably tailored and might even feign a mellowed, sympathetic attitude, but be careful," Sue cautioned. "Today I witnessed a different side of the man."
       After saying good-bye, Ben reached for a cigarette. He had himself down to three a day on his road to quitting -- until yesterday. Tomorrow, he promised himself, he would do better. He sat back comfortably, yawned until his eyes watered, and attempted to digest Sue's information.
       He drew in deeply on his cigarette, expelling the smoke slowly and watching it curling upward toward the vaulted and heavy-beamed ceiling. Marry Remley? If Maggie had any romantic involvement with this Ken, she wouldn't have said his name as though he were a gnarled monster lurking behind a bush.
       Ben smashed out his cigarette. That was it; he couldn't concentrate any longer. He tossed around, beating on the pillow with profound relish this time. Now, ol' man, quit thinking. Go to sleep -- 
       He groaned. Maggie's pale, intriguing face wouldn't go away and let him sleep -- he didn't want it to go away.
         * * * *
       None of it could be possible. Maggie flicked her eyes open and glanced around the shadowy room. She'd had the most incredible nightmare about sand and rocks and heat ... but why was there an IV bag hanging above her head? She'd gotten rid of that monstrous thing, days ago.
       She drew in a sharp breath as she instantly realized there was a man standing beside the window, and he was staring out into the dim light. His profile was barely discernible yet familiar. "Ben? I really hope that's you over there, Ben, because if it isn't, I'm going to scream, and I'm too tired to make the effort."
       He looked over his shoulder at her. "It's me, and I'm too tired to cause any thing that might inspire a scream." He turned toward Maggie and picked up a straight-backed chair. After setting it adjacent to her bed, he straddled it, leaning his elbows on the back.
       He wore the dull-blue outfit she was beginning to imagine he never went without, and a shapeless surgical cap covered the top of his head. Now that he was so much closer, she could see his eyes were moist, and he had grim lines forming around his beautiful mouth. She prayed she wasn't the cause of whatever was moving him so deeply.
       "Is it morning light or sundown?" she asked, glancing at the window.
       He brushed a hand across his eyes, then through his hair. "Dawn," he answered.
       His voice was so low she almost didn't hear him. The heat and sand must have been real -- senselessly real. "I'm sorry, Ben," she whispered, "for causing you so much trouble."
       He drew a heavy, deep breath. "You have nothing to be sorry about. However, your Guardian Angel probably has a mound of gray hair and is putting in for retirement."
       His attempt to lighten his words hadn't changed the expression on his face one bit. "I shouldn't have tried to leave. When Doctor Clive says I'm ready, I'll walk out of here, and not until." He had to believe her. Maggie wasn't certain why she'd believed she could get somewhere in a robe and on a horse, but she wholeheartedly intended for it never to happen again.
       Ben was looking at her strangely as he leaned forward, resting his chin on his fists, his dark gaze never wavering from hers.
       "Having a bad dream, walking in a feverish sleep, and falling wasn't your fault. But I would like you to keep your promise to not walk out of here." Whatever her dream was about, it must have been convincingly real. "You have a new doctor to see later, Maggie. Doc Clive told you about Doctor James Rogers taking over your care when he returned?" At her nod, Ben went on, "We both work in general medicine, but James is our obstetrician and gynecologist. And since he was here when you fell, Doc Clive thought it best if James took over. James will be in to see you after he gets back from an emergency trip to Tucson."
       His words were making her head spin. He said she fell, that she had a bad dream, walked in her sleep. She saw Ben and Cheryl on the horses. How could she dream about horses she'd never seen before? How could she feel as if she'd spent a week in the sun? And now he talked about a doctor named James. Maggie nodded her head again, her concern for Ben outweighing her confusion and curiosity about a new doctor.
       "What's wrong, Ben?" Nothing about his expression had changed. Dream or no dream, when she'd seen his face, when he'd found her, he had been grave and worried, but this -- somehow this was completely different. Something powerful was hurting him, but she felt so gosh-awful groggy, it was completely possible she was imagining it.
       He sat up straight, stretching his back. "We handled an emergency around two this morning." He released a pent-up breath. "It's been an onerous night."
       "I'll listen," she said, not wanting to force him. It was there in his eyes, the need to talk or maybe just be with someone. Ben's velvet-soft gaze roamed over her face, then trailed slowly down across her breasts, and Maggie trembled inwardly when their blackness settled back on her eyes, much warmer than before. She said nothing and waited.
       He cleared his throat. "A local young couple came in this morning right on schedule. The Vegas were an excited and happy couple for nine months. A first child," he said, unable to control the emotion in his voice. "Only the little girl didn't make it longer than an hour. She didn't get put together just right, so the good Lord took her home."
       Ben shoved himself up from the chair and walked back to the window. "Her parents are taking it very badly." He glanced over his shoulder. "Badly, in the respect that they are backing away from each other instead of discussing their grief so they can understand each others feelings." He shook his head. "The husband walked out of here with the facade of a man headed for the nearest bar, and the grieving mother...." His words faded out as he turned back toward her. "Well, we're limited to what we can accomplish," he finished, frustration rich in his tone.
       Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, but she said nothing. Though his expression was shadowed in the dim light, she could hear how deeply he was affected. He was sharing with her a crisis which was deeply concerning him, but she realized, most importantly, he also released some of his own restrained grief. Could there ever be a more special communication? Maggie doubted it. The intimacies between couples could never be anything more than just physical unless they included supportive, personal trust and exposed emotions.
       The words "no man is an island" sprang to her mind, along with "and they two shall be in one flesh" which allowed people to escape the weight of lonely burdens, but too many events in life could manipulate and wallop the hell out of that rapport. The wallop left a pain which wouldn't mend like a physical injury. Instead, with loneliness for fertilizer, the anguish clung and grew and spread like ivy.
       Ben walked to the bed, sat down and clasped her wrist gently in his hand. After a few seconds, he leaned forward and checked the bandages on her shoulder before he took a tissue from the box beside her and gently wiped the tears from her face. "Hell, you're not even awake from surgery, and you have been through enough without my coming in here and unloading my thoughts on you."
       Maggie swallowed the lump in her throat. "Anytime, Ben," she whispered, and gave him back the words he'd used in her dream. "Anytime."
       He shifted to his feet and flipped the chair back to its usual resting place near the wall. "The nurses will be checking on you in a few minutes." He moved toward the door. "Rest, sweetheart, you need it to heal," he said as he disappeared into the hall.
         * * * *
       Ben reached the nursery door just as Cheryl came out. Seeing her face drenched with tears he pulled her against his chest. "You going to be okay?"
       Cheryl sniffled as she pulled a white, facial tissue from her pocket. "Yes. Oh, Ben, it's so sad."
       "I would like to request a favor if you're up to it."
       She looked at him questioningly as he cupped her chin and scanned her jade eyes to make certain she was being honest about how she was holding up. "The new mama needs someone to cry with. Why don't you go in there and share what you're feeling with her?"
       "But, what if I cause her to feel worse?"
       "You can't cause her to feel worse. Her husband is managing to do that, and it's being alone that will make it unbearable for her."
       Cheryl nodded her head and walked down the hall. She stopped and turned back toward him. "Who will you cry with, Ben?"
       Ben gave her a smile. "Don't worry about me. I have a private angel, guaranteed to remove all aches and pains."
       That was an accurate statement, Ben thought, as he pushed the door open to the nursery. His short discussion with Maggie effectively lifted some of the concern he felt for the grief-stricken young parents this morning. For the first time since his parents died, he found himself wanting to share his deeper feelings with someone, and expressing his thoughts to Maggie had come as naturally as expecting the sunrise. He hadn't meant for Maggie to discover him there. After he'd gone in to check her condition, he found he didn't want to leave. It had seemed a tranquilly warm place to be, and just being there had given him the peace of mind he needed to finish out the day. In the space of a few seconds he was relishing the quiet intimacy; if he didn't watch it he was going to find it habit forming. A habit that would easily fill the one empty void in his life.
       Ben leaned over a small bassinet. "Mornin', Nick. You and I need to have a brief talk, little buddy." He cupped his hands, lifting the tiny boy. "Now, don't go screwing your face up like that. I haven't done anything to you yet."
       Carole poked her head around the door. "A woman just called, Doctor. She'll be around some time this morning." Carole sighed. "Wicker is her name, and she's from the Child Service Department in Safford."
       "Dammit. I thought I had those people put off for the time being." Nick weighed almost six pounds now so it would become harder to keep the damned service off his back.
       "This one sounded like one of those bulldog types."
       "Thanks, Carole, I'll be ready for her." Just what he needed added to this day.
       He glanced at Nick as urges to protect the small infant that went well beyond his usual medical instincts swept through him. "Don't worry, ol' son, you aren't going anywhere. I'm just not through with you yet."
         * * * *
       "Maggie." Cheryl's voice sounded far away as it broke into Maggie's thoughts.
       Maggie looked up at Cheryl and watched her unfold a blood pressure cuff. Her eyes were red and puffy. Another victim of an "onerous night," Maggie thought. "I'm sorry I've been such a useless problem, Cheryl. It's too bad I didn't just -- "
       Angry spots appeared on Cheryl's cheeks, and her eyes looked tormented. "We've been through hell with you, Maggie," she interrupted. "Don't you think it's time you should want to live?" Maggie wanted to protest, but now that Cheryl had a good start, it didn't appear she intended to stop until she finished her say. "If you think we are capable of standing by and allowing any patient to die, you'd just better think again." Cheryl pushed her hands against her face, stemming the tears washing down her cheeks.
       "I'm sorry, Maggie," Cheryl choked out, sinking onto a chair. "I don't know why I said that."
       "It's all right, Cheryl. I know a baby died this morning," Maggie interrupted softly, realizing what was bothering Cheryl so forcefully. "I know there isn't a person working here that would let anyone die without doing their best to prevent it. I'm proof of that dedication."
       Cheryl sighed, wiping at her tears. "I don't understand why I came unglued that way. I guess I'm just tired." She cast Maggie a glance. "When you've said you wanted to die -- I just can't fathom it. I guess I thought you were about to repeat it again -- were you?"
       Maggie tucked the stray hair that brushed her cheek behind her ear. "At times I feel as if I got left behind by mistake, and everything that's been happening since January seems like the worst of bad dreams, but I don't want to die. If I've said it, I don't remember." She paused. "I do have a bad habit of saying let me die when I'm frustrated. Guess I've said it for so many years, I don't even notice it."
       Cheryl smiled through her tears. "I'm glad to hear it meant nothing."
       Cheryl's expression looked tired and lost and if there was ever a time for a change of subject, this was it. "When do I get rid of that thing?" Maggie asked, gesturing at the bag above her head.
       Cheryl stood and walked to the bed. She pulled a small gauze-padded tape from her pocket, laid it on the bed table, then headed for the sink across the room. "As soon as I wash my hands, you'll see the last of it. Doctor James wanted it there until we can regulate your electrolytes."
       "Electrolytes?"
       "Umm. They're the little buggers that manage our body's electricity. When they get haywire, it's like a short circuit in an electrical cord. Since yours were short-circuiting, you became agitated and confused enough to walk around the hospital. Anyway, your last lab tests show that your little fellows are finally behaving."
       Maggie smiled. "Thanks for helping me understand." She chuckled. "Tell me about this Doctor James?" Ben had mentioned him, but Cheryl was usually more informative.
       After adjusting Maggie's arm and removing the tape holding the needle in place, Cheryl gently pulled the needle and applied pressure. "He's the other half of the partnership cementing this place together. He's also the expert in the Obstetrics, Gynecology, and Pediatrics Departments. He says women love him so much they labor to get into his office."
       Maggie succeeded in curbing a painful laugh. "Well, I hope he doesn't mind having another patient foisted on him."
       Cheryl stood up. "Never worry, the more patients Doctor James has the happier he is. I have to check another patient, then I'll be back to see you." She walked toward the door. "Thank you, Maggie -- for understanding."
       Maggie nodded and closed her eyes, suddenly tired and aching.
       Short-circuit or not, and even in a dream, how could she have been so anxious to get away from Remley and Ben that she could forget about the baby? Maggie wanted to cry, but refused to give into it, and hiccupped in her strain to gain control. The jerking of the hiccups caused a knife-like aching in her entire left side. She just couldn't handle this right now; her mind wasn't working right, and she felt as though her emotions were being squeezed like garlic in a press.
       Stressed out women were making Ben take a second look at his choice of career; if he saw one more tear, he would vacate this place and spend a week on the range with his cattle. Ben approached the bed, sat down on the edge, and massaged Maggie's back and neck.
       "Easy, sweetheart," he said, feeling a flood of quiet tenderness. "Let yourself get awake before taking on the world." She hiccupped again. That probably hurt like hell.
       Ben reached around her and offered her a drink of water from a straw which she accepted willingly.
       "Thank you," she whispered, trying to push the straw away and hiccupping again.
       "I can understand why you're a doctor," she said, brushing several strands of hair out of her eyes.
       "What do you mean?" He could feel her muscles relax under his palm as he worked his fingers down her spine, savoring the excuse to touch her in this quiet manner.
       "Your hands. They seem to work magic."
       He smiled. "Yep. They are magic ... it might surprise you to know what they can do." Or what they'd like to do.
       "Oh, I wouldn't be surprised," she mumbled.
       He'd come to see if she was okay, and was pleased that she relaxed under his hands and seemed almost asleep. He'd just talked with Cheryl and heard exactly what type of emotions had passed between them. He sent Cheryl home with orders to take two-days off and enjoy her family. He would call Joe after a while, tell him what happened, and have him make sure she did just that. Meanwhile, he would sit here for a minute and enjoy the peacefulness of watching Maggie sleep.
       He shifted his attention toward the door as Carole entered the room. "Ms. Wicker just arrived, Doctor," Carole whispered. "I have her waiting in the nursery office."
       After stretching his arms and awakening his tired muscles, Ben rose to his feet. "Lead the way, Nurse. We have official business to take care of, and if we get lucky, it will last at least a week." If they hadn't found Nick a relative, he wasn't going anywhere.
         * * * *
       An hour later Ben walked into James's office. Wicker hadn't left a happy lady, but he'd managed to convince her how it would be in Nick's best interest to remain under his supervision a while longer. There were no surviving relatives to the woman who gave birth to him. The state orphanage was next in line, and if there was one thing he felt a constant aversion for, it was state-run orphanages.
       James looked up from the chart on his desk, his blue eyes questioning. "You look like you've swallowed the canary. What's up?"
       "I've been busy seeing to our Nick's welfare. How was your trip to Tucson, and how's Mrs. Vega doing?"
       "The trip went smoothly, and Mrs. Vega is resting between bouts of crying and staring into space. We've got a real problem."
       "I agree. Someone needs to shake Vega's teeth loose."
       James nodded as he got up from his chair. "Right. But since we, grand professionals that we are, can't go that route, one of us had better come up with a useful idea. I won't release Tina Vega while she is under the stress she has right now. Her distress is causing other health problems."
       Ben walked toward the door. "I'll go over to their house and have a little 'responsibility' talk with him." At least having a discussion with a distraught male would be an emotional change of pace.
       James came around his desk, shrugging out of his white jacket. "No, Ben, I'll do it. If I get nowhere, it'll be your turn. I'll know by the time I get back if we need a good-guy, bad-guy routine to shake him awake."
       James had a determined look on his face as he hung the jacket on a hook beside the door, and he was probably right, James would never lose his objectivity and yank Bob Vega's chain. Ben wasn't so very certain, after witnessing the man's behavior, he could do the job politely, and, for now, it was the only way. "Let me know how it goes."
--------
         *Chapter 12*
       At least I'm moving much faster than three days ago, Maggie thought as she walked down the corridor and adjusted the wide sling holding her arm. Although she wouldn't win any races today, she felt pretty darned good -- considering what she just finished doing with the physical therapist. Therapy was definitely the pitiless, modern version of the torture chamber. They wanted her body to do things it profoundly objected to, but they said she was making remarkable progress. The only thing that wasn't healing very quickly was the bullet wound itself, and the word time was Doctor James's favorite explanation.
       Maggie walked out onto the shaded patio and sat down on a padded, high-backed bench. The shade felt cool and the tranquil atmosphere made her drowsy. The nights were becoming cool, but the days were still hot.
       It'd been four days since her getaway-dream and fall, and Ben never said anything after he'd said he expected her to keep her word about staying put. Doctor James, one handsome bundle of captivating charm, had come to see her every day.
       Although she hadn't left the hospital, had, instead, experienced a dream, Maggie couldn't stop remembering how real it all seemed, and that she hadn't considered the baby. A tear slid down her cheek. Not remembering the baby brought a painful guilt to mind -- Josh's voice, warning her, so very real -- Well, she was much stronger now, and the panic and pain no longer invaded her ability to think, making her vulnerable.
       What to do about Ben was her newest problem. He was a breath of spirit to her existence, and his deep voice did things to her she couldn't describe -- hypnotic, magnetic...? A touch of his hand, and she did exactly what he wanted with pure delight in pleasing him as if she were a young teenager noticing the opposite sex for the first time. Becoming too fond of him was frightening. If something happened to Ben because of her and all her difficulties, she would never forgive herself.
       Suddenly Ben appeared on the patio and sat down beside her. All she had to do anymore was think about him, and he showed up.
       "You look like you're doing some big thinking. What's so serious?"
       His unfailing perception of her thoughts never ceased to be amazing. Realizing something intangible bothered her, Maggie didn't really want to discuss it, but the rough emotion she heard in his voice tugged at her heart, and she tried to explain. "Actually, I was thinking about my dream." Maggie shook her head slowly. "Real or not, I forgot about the baby -- pushed it right out of my mind. I just had to get out of here."
       He knew what troubling dreams were like, and could sympathize with her. "Did you have any idea where you were going?"
       "I headed toward the mountains." She wasn't sure about anything. She laughed nervously. "I guess I was on my way to find a place to live and a job."
       "Not many opportunities in the foothills, huh?"
       "None," she said.
       He put his arm behind her and brought her gently against his side. "This may be hard to believe, but your body's condition at the time caused your actions. When the body receives an injury, shifting everything off kilter, people can do things they don't even remember later." Ben shrugged. "Feeling guilty about it won't change the fact that our bodies can give us a hell of a time."
       Ben placed a hand under her chin and gently brushed her lips with his, and Maggie felt too startled to resist him, or return his kiss. But the finest wine she'd ever tasted couldn't match the richness of his mouth on hers, or warm her the way his lips were doing right now. And her body could give her a hell of a time in more than one way, because now it was fanning out wondrous sensations of desire for him low and deep and everywhere. She had to do something to stop this.
       Ben caressed her cheek as she backed away, keeping his voice soft, serious. "Did you love him?" He shook his head. "If this isn't the right time or the right place or any of my business, don't answer."
       The unexpected question confused her for a moment, and she turned away, trying to think.
       "I understand if you don't want to talk about your husband."
       His mood sounded contrite. "I want to talk about Josh." She looked at Ben square on. "But I haven't talked about him for so long I'm not certain where to start." It seemed his question was as good a place as any. "Yes," she said. "I loved him."
       Ben gently kneaded her shoulder with his fingers, encouragingly. "What happened to your family, Maggie?"
       "We all loved camping. Up until a year and a half ago when he asked for a separation, we went to the mountains every weekend Josh was free. That last weekend Josh took the boys to the mountains so they could go tobogganing in the snow and camp." Maggie swiped at the tears forming in her eyes. "There was an accident -- " Her voice cracked, cutting off her sentence.
       He might be intruding, but he took the risk and asked anyway. "You say you were separated." He touched her abdomen. "Did he change his mind?"
       A handkerchief appeared in Ben's hand, and she accepted it gratefully. Maggie wiped the tears from her eyes. "One day Josh decided he didn't want to live at home any more," she answered, her voice raspy. "It took several months, but it was like my love for him went numb, like my emotions went on hold and I couldn't get reconnected." Anger shoved hard on the sorrow, anger at Josh for abandoning and closing her out the first time, anger for him taking the boys with him the second time. Anger with herself for feeling guilty for being angry.
       His voice was tight. "Was it because of another woman?"
       "No," she said flatly. "Another woman would have been easier to understand, would have been something physical to see. Josh was fighting some inner problem that he either wouldn't or couldn't tell me about." Maggie slid her hand across her abdomen. "We didn't fight. He wasn't seeing other women. His love for the boys hadn't changed, so I kept hoping sooner or later he would talk to me."
       "He never told you what was happening?" Ben probed gently.
       She shook her head. "New Year's Eve we had dinner out with the boys. Josh wanted to stay and have a glass of wine after Todd and Joey fell asleep. It was cold outside. We had a warm fire inside, and Josh was acting more like his old self. I thought he remembered the importance of staying a family. I was wrong."
       Maggie signed deeply. "Everything turned out so backwards," she said, fighting the lump building in her throat. "He never knew about the baby." I can't go on with this, she thought, and started to move away from Ben. But his hand gently restrained her, and he tucked her head against his shoulder, resting his chin on her hair.
       She could feel his hard swallow. Ben didn't say anything. He didn't need to; the gentle movements of his fingers on her shoulder; the quiet rise and fall of his chest under her cheek; all made his soothing strength come through to her honest and unfailing. And it was amazing how much lighter her heart felt from just talking to him.
       Maggie had no idea how long she rested against him. She moved to sit up just as the hospital doors opened, and a tall, fair-haired man stepped out onto the patio. Maggie stared at him as his cool, gray eyes came to rest on her. All it took was one look into those eyes, and the icy sensation she could never account for crept up her spine.
       "Hello, Maggie," Ken said, his voice warm with affection. "It appears that my timing is perfect, because you seem to be quite well enough to go home now." Ken's saccharine sweetness ground irritatingly into Maggie's ears, and she caught his politely delivered innuendo.
       "No!" She didn't want him here! "How did you find me?" she choked, her throat tightened until she was certain it would strangle her. She glanced at Ben, who was rising to his feet. Had he told Ken where she was?
       Maggie shifted her gaze back to Ken, as his veiled threats came rolling back into her mind in a tumultuous avalanche. "You need me Maggie," he had said. "We have to keep Josh's name and yours from becoming new household words for criminal."
       Ken had started out playing the role of a compassionate friend, however, he suddenly changed to pursuing her openly, but she wanted none of it. When Ken decided courting her wouldn't work, he revealed his true nature, but he did it with such darned finesse she didn't pay attention right away. Which was a lesson she took too damn long learning, and her blindness was still galling. It seemed Shane's perception was right all along, but Maggie hadn't paid attention to her either. But when she finally did, the icy, unexplainable agitation appeared every time she came in contact with him.
       Ken said Josh made bad investments with other peoples money, and that her name was on the documents. He wanted her to sign papers he said she didn't need to read because she wouldn't understand them anyway. But Maggie had worked with Josh long enough to know better because she'd been the one to read all his paperwork. When she balked and backed away from Ken's command, his attitude of friendship and understanding did a disappearing act.
       It still didn't make sense; if he didn't even like her, why did he say he wanted to help her?
       Ben just stood there, silently watching them with one hand jammed in his pocket.
       Ken laughed. "It wasn't all that hard to locate you. It just took a little longer than I expected. But that is beside the point, you're needed at home. I know you've been ill, but your responsibilities have been piling up, and you and I have a lot of paperwork to get straightened out."
       Ken turned toward Ben. "I presume you are Doctor Karr. I'm Kenneth Remley, Maggie's lawyer." He looked at Maggie, his face a picture of sympathetic innocence. "We're also very close friends."
       His trustworthy tone was sending blood-heating anger washing over her. She wanted to slap him -- hard. And if her left arm weren't bound so close to her body she'd use both hands.
       "Yes, I'm Doctor Karr," Ben said, focusing in on Ken. "I'm not certain what's going on here, but Maggie is not ready for release from this hospital, and Doctor Rogers isn't planning on releasing her for at least another week." He shoved both hands deeply into his pockets, trying to control them. "When Maggie is ready to leave here, she will need to make arrangements for continued physical therapy."
       "That will not be a problem," Ken said. "I have already arranged appointments for her with the best doctors in the country. Maggie will have nothing but the best."
       Ken gave Ben what Maggie thought was his most impressive look of concern to date. "Maggie's grief and unstable actions, brought on, I'm sure, by the untimely deaths of her family, have proven that she needs help. So I've made an appointment for her with a top psychiatrist in California. Doctor Borge has assured me that he can help Maggie overcome her tragedy with therapy."
       Maggie shuddered from the pain his words stabbed her with, and for a moment he had her wondering about her mental stability. Then she realized, watching him, that he'd been prodding her emotions for months, and she'd been too trusting to recognize it.
       At first a slight flaring of his nostrils was the only evidence Maggie could see that the conversation was fazing Ben. Now a fire seemed to be developing quickly in Ben's eyes; but then, his expression was one of interest. Glory, did Ben believe the implications of what Ken said?
       Would he believe the suggestion that she and Ken had an intimate relationship and that she was mentally ill?
       She clenched her teeth tightly. Ken sounded very convincing, but she'd be darned if she would defend herself against such blatant lies. Ben would have to make up his own mind.
       She yanked her glance back to Ken. Strange, he just looked like a man who thought much too much of himself and nothing more. Maybe her panic when she found out he was looking for her had been fear of his obstructing her choices. Maybe, but his presence gave her an ominous chill, and it didn't have anything to do being left penniless.
       From the way Ben swiped his fingers through his hair he would be asking a lot of questions when this conversation was over. Only, she didn't have any answers.
       Right this minute her mind and body rebelled against what was happening, and she wanted nothing better than to be away from both of these men. Just looking at them gave her the feeling that she was leaping head first into a gyrating washing machine. Their faces held blank expressions, but a battle could break out any minute. Their eyes sparred like two swordsmen, crossing their blades before the contest was to begin. It must stop, she thought. They have to stop. If they didn't, she would leave.
       All told -- this was a remarkably strange dueling of personalities. Ben didn't understand what the bloody hell was going on, but he intended to get some answers, one way or another. There was one element he was positive of; he didn't trust the man standing in front of him. Sue's information and Maggie's initial reactions were enough for him.
       After turning to the man whose hard-eyed gaze still centered on him, Ben spoke slowly, deliberately, and in deadly quiet tones. "Maggie will not be going anywhere with you when she leaves the hospital. She's going to become my wife." That should slow the well-mannered sonofabitch down, and buy Maggie some time.
       Ben gestured in the direction of the hospital door behind Ken. "Visiting hours start at one o'clock."
       Ken's face contorted with anger, but he recovered so quickly, Ben thought he might have imagined it.
       "You know what this will mean, Maggie." Ken glanced at Maggie as he narrowed his eyes. Ben could feel the man's anger, but he had to hand it to him, except for the slight clenching and relaxing of his hands, it wasn't showing outwardly.
       Ken shifted his attention back to Ben. "Have you a few hundred thousand dollars to satisfy her debts?" Ken asked. His tone revealed the courtroom master he obviously was. "If not, I suggest you reevaluate your intentions, Doctor Karr, or you may discover yourself and your hospital in deeper than you care to be."
       Ben's patience melted away like an ice cube on hot pavement. No one messed with his patients, not welfare bureaurats who thought nothing of throwing children around like so much laundry, or a cold-eyed lawyer who wanted power of another kind.
       "That sounds serious and completely out of my sphere of knowledge, Mr. Remley. You'd better present your information to the hospital's attorney tomorrow, and we will see what can be done about it." He pulled a prescription pad from his pocket and ripped a page off. Writing an address and phone number on the back of it he handed it to Remley before continuing. "Meanwhile -- one o'clock is the rule, and it's one we keep rigidly around here."
       For a moment Ken appeared confused, then he took a step backwards and threw a raking glance at Maggie. "We will talk again later, Maggie," he said quietly. "Perhaps by that time there will be less interruption." Ken gave her a good-bye salute and sauntered back through the patio doors.
       Ben turned to Maggie. Her sensational eyes, now almost completely turquoise, dominated her face. Ben gently pulled her to her feet, bringing her up against him. He folded his arms around her, and brushed his face against her satiny hair.
       Near her ear he said, "Relax, Maggie, he can't hurt you. You're not going anywhere with him." She relaxed against him as Ben closed his eyes and breathed in the sweetly exotic, peach scent that belonged to her alone.
       Ken had finally found her, and Maggie knew she had to face it. But how would she ever begin to assemble anything together well enough in her mind to deal with Ken and his ever-so-polite outrageous words? Maggie had absolutely no intention of going any place with him. It would leave her bankrupt, but she would return to California and get to the bottom of Ken's allegations regarding Josh.
       But, glory, it seemed so overwhelmingly impossible. The time for the baby was only about three weeks away. This being in a hospital and not having the complete ability to care for herself was driving her crazy with impatience.
       Maggie listened to the strong drumming of Ben's heart against her ear. The rhythm seemed to be increasing by the second, and come to think of it, so did hers.
       What was it he said to Ken? -- She's going to become my wife. No, he couldn't have said anything like that -- but he did! -- didn't he?
       Had she missed something when she'd been in such deep thought about Ken?
       Realizing she'd heard perfectly she moved away from Ben, feeling like an animal in a trap. "What made you say a thing like that to him?" she wailed. "He's not going to believe that nonsense about my becoming your wife."
       "He only needs to believe it for a while -- at least until you are ready to take him on."
       Ben's expression was annoyingly unreadable. "Ken can be a ruthless person," she said, and praying he would listen. "You don't want to get involved with me, money ... baby...." Her voice trailed off weakly, as she realized the whole perplexing mess was too impossible for words. And Ben stood there so warm and strong, that, contradictory idea or not, she wanted to move right back into his arms.
       "Ben?"
       "Humm?"
       "Ken said I'm mentally unstable -- did you believe him?" She hoped he wasn't thinking back four days ago or he would probably say yes. Then Ben's chuckle vibrated the air around them.
       "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm your friend, and I'm not easily influenced against friends. But, for a while, it wouldn't hurt Remley to believe that I am. I support the philosophy of believing nothing that I hear and perhaps half of what I see."
       Ben reached out and cupped her chin, gently forcing her to look at him. "Now, back to what I told Remley. We might not have convinced him yet about our relationship, but he will be, so let's just take one day at a time."
       He trailed a finger slowly across her cheek. "Have you thought about why you're here? There happens to be a lot of space on this continent, and you ended up in mine." He gave her a light kiss. "I like you in my space."
       Maggie nodded her head as she stared at him. "Oh, yes," she answered, "I've thought about the reasons for my being here." He was most likely right, with their mysterious ability to share thoughts, they could make Ken believe they were planning marriage. Sometimes she'd catch a loneliness in Ben Karr's eyes that mirrored her own, and there were other times when merely a glance or a touch allowed each of them to recognize what the other was thinking or feeling.
       "It's good to know you've been thinking about it," he whispered. He brushed his lips against hers, probing softly and with a restrained hunger. Ben became certain of his love for Maggie the morning before she fell. He knew it the moment he'd taken the photograph of her and her boys from his desk drawer. He wanted to tell her, but it was too soon.
       A fierce yearning seemed to surge into her blood stream; easily matching the rawness of desire she'd glimpsed in his black eyes and could feel in the way he was caressing her. It was a sensation she'd never before experienced with such sudden intensity, and it made her lightheaded. Her lips softened and parted under the pressure of his subdued demand. She didn't want to ignore her craving to have the fulfillment his body so blatantly promised and she moved closer to savor the bold energy in him.
       But something else was trying to get through to her. Several blunt jabs in her abdomen finally registered through the sensual fog he created, and she moved away from Ben, instantly remembering the baby she carried under her heart.
       "The baby...."
       "I know," he murmured next to her ear, bringing her closer. "I can hardly wait to see her; she'll be as beautiful as her mother."
       Ben Karr was serious. He talked as though it were his child, not someone else's. "You sound as though you love this baby," she said, watching him, captivated by the love and tenderness in his eyes.
       "I happen to love kids." He smiled, then engulfed her in his arms again, liking the way she fit his contour. "I have a special attachment for this one," he said as he ran his fingers lightly across her abdomen. "I've listened to that little heartbeat and watched this little one move and suck its thumb on the scope." He hesitated, then no longer able to withhold his feelings he added, "I love this baby's mother, too."
       "You can't know what you're saying," she said nervously into his shirt. Love! She wanted to believe him, wanted to love him, yet she couldn't allow anything to come of it. If anything happened to Ben Karr, it would be more than she could endure. And all her fault -- it had to stop now.
       Oh, Ben knew what he was saying all right. He also knew she would never have the slightest inkling how much it was going to cost him to walk away from the love he felt for her and the child she carried. Maggie needed a foothold on the life she wanted to lead, and when she was ready, a nine-to-five husband to complement that life with hours of togetherness.
       Ben let out a deep breath. The best thing he could do now was change the subject. "What I said to Remley should discourage him for awhile, Maggie. Are you going to fill me in about Remley's little warning?" Ben asked, resting his chin on her hair. "Several hundred thousand dollar's worth of threat -- and he wasn't threatening me, sweetheart. Everything he said was for your benefit. I didn't miss a thing."
       Maggie tipped her head back, glanced at Ben's face, then at the floor. "I can't tell you about something I don't understand. It's going to take an investment expert to figure it all out. Your marriage ruse won't be necessary, because finding that expert means I don't have any choice but to go back to California. Please, don't ask me anymore now. Please," Maggie implored huskily. She tilted her head to one side and tried to keep from sounding accusing, but failed. "Did you tell him I was here?" His expression made her sorry she'd asked.
       Ben shook his head. It didn't appear she was ever going to trust him. "No, Maggie, this is the first time I've talked with Mr. Remley. Why would I communicate with him?" he asked, quelling the impatience building in him because of her distrust. "If you remember, you have never mentioned his last name." She knew he'd given her his word not to give information to the guy.
       "Someone had to tell him. I suppose the police were the ones who finally reached him."
       "Maybe." He shifted her gently away from him and curved an arm around her waist. He'd tell her later about Remley, and how he'd managed to locate her. "Why did you run from him, Maggie?"
       "I didn't run from Ken," she said tightly. "I needed what money I had left to relocate and to pay for the birth of my baby. I had already given him almost everything. He refused to answer questions and clarify his statements, and since I had more than just myself to consider, I had to make a choice. My baby was my choice." Maggie brushed her hair away from her face, raising her chin stubbornly. "But he'll never leave me alone. I'll just have to risk destitution and go back and fight him."
       He understood how expensive attorneys and courts were, understood the dilemma Remley forced her into. Now he wanted to know why. "Well, you need time to think about it, and you don't need to make any decisions today," he said gently. "Come on, I'll walk you back to your room. I have a few phone calls to make before my rounds. You can try to rest and forget about Remley for awhile."
       He would make a few phone calls all right. He knew several people who could get the answers he needed, and it just might be the time to reel in some favors.
       Maggie needed out from under whatever legalities Remley talked about, and he intended to know everything there was to know about Kenneth Remley. The man was working too damned hard at discrediting Maggie's mental state, and there was no way Ben could leave it alone.
--------
         *Chapter 13*
       Ben settled himself in his office chair and reached for the phone. The perfect place to start would be with his friend Neil Abbott. Neil worked in the DA's office in Sacramento, and knew about most of the law offices in California; plus a few other places. Ben had been trying to reach him for several days; however, no one seemed to know where Neil was. Well, he couldn't hide out forever. Even when they were scruffy-faced young'ens in the Air Force, and Neil had time off, it was impossible to locate him.
       Look out, Ken ol' boy. Neil has strong capabilities, and if you're not as honorable as your profession demands, things won't go very well for you. I promise -- 
       "Neil Abbott here, may I help you?" Neil's familiar low-toned voice whispered across the phone wire, and Ben pushed back against the padding of his tall-backed chair, stretched his legs out, and planted his feet comfortably on the desktop.
       "How is your time set for helping a friend in the outer regions of civilization? And before you answer that, how is it in the big dirty city?" Ben twisted his chair slightly and looked out the window.
       Neil laughed. "It's not too bad, Ben. How is it out there in the hot, dry desert? I always meant to ask if anyone else lives out there besides you?"
       "I'm not altogether alone, there are a few stray cattle around that I sing to at night." He would like to joke a while with his friend, but there just wasn't time. "Listen, Neil, I have a complicated problem, and I need your help to make some elusive pieces fit." Ben swung his legs down, shifted to his feet, and walked to the large bay windows behind his desk.
       "You have my undivided attention. And, believe it or not, I even have a few spare hours coming up. Go ahead tell me about it."
       "I don't know how you could have anymore time off. I've been trying to get a hold of you for days. When you take a vacation you know how to hide from everyone. Even the people in your office had no idea which way you went."
       Neil chuckled. "If you had to put up with some of these people, you would hide, too. Go ahead. What's the story?"
       "The story is about as brief as they come, Neil, so I just hope you can do something with it," Ben said, twisting the phone cord in his hand as he walked back to the desk.
       After Ben related to Neil the limited things he understood about Remley, Maggie, and Joshua Rand, he waited for Neil to pull a file from his office.
       "You might not remember, pal, but you met Rand for about five minutes last January. He was a good man to work with."
       Ben sat down and leaned his elbows on the polished surface of his desk. "Now that you mention it, I thought his photo looked familiar, but I couldn't remember where I might have met him." It was clear now. He'd attended a lawyer/doctor seminar in Los Angeles with Neil, and he'd met dozens of people he would most likely never see again.
       "Anyway," Neil said thoughtfully, "I'm acquainted with the Remley office, but it was his old man I had dealings with. Brooks, Brooks, and Remley have always had an outstanding reputation. I would never question Gerald Remley's integrity. Nevertheless, he retired a couple of years back, and I know next to nothing about his son. It's going to take time to get information. But I know the perfect P.I. in the Fresno area. This man has worked for me in the past with incredible results." Neil's tone carried serious interest, and Ben didn't doubt that his friend would come through.
       "I have to go south tomorrow for a court action, so I'll stop and see J.T. personally. I'll call you, Ben, as soon as I discover anything conclusive or interesting. Remley hasn't been in any trouble that I know about. We'll see." Neil was silent for a moment. "This could cost you, buddy. J.T.'s services don't come cheap."
       "If he's as efficient as you say, you can believe I'll consider his time worth the cost. Call me in a couple of days and tell me his fees."
       "Oh, yeah ... Ben?"
       "What is it, Neil?"
       "When I call you back, you've got to fill me in on just how the hell Maggie Rand came to be in your hospital."
       Ben laughed. "I'll tell you after you've given me some info."
       "Sounds like blackmail to me," Neil stated gruffly. "You know I've been waiting to do something for you since you took that slug for me."
       Ben sat back and grinned. "That wasn't the favor I was calling in, pal."
       "Oh, yeah?"
       "Remember that five-bucks' worth of script you borrowed in Managua?"
       Neil chuckled. "I can forget, you know, because the word classified comes to mind."
         * * * *
       Things were looking up. Ben closed the door of his office and headed for the chart file. It took two hours and five phone calls to give him a reason to feel any better about Remley. Ben walked to the nursing desk, grabbed several patient charts from the rack, and headed toward the hall to make rounds.
       "Ben, before you take off with those charts, could I have a word with you?" James asked, removing his white jacket and tossing it across the nursing desk.
       Ben came to an abrupt halt and swung around. "Here or in my office?"
       "Here is fine. I'm a little baffled, and I wanted to see if you might have answers I can't seem to come up with."
       "James, all I have is confusion, and I'm very short on answers."
       James scratched the top of his head. "I saw Maggie earlier today. She asked me questions that the mother of two should have down pat. She's a very astute lady, and I can't help wondering why she's asking questions the first-time mother's usually throw at me."
       Good grief, he didn't have time to speculate about this right now. "I don't know, James. Did you ask her?"
       James shook his head. "No. I never deliberately say anything that might prevent a patient from asking questions. Hers were very intelligent questions, it's just that most women who have had two kids are way ahead of me."
       Ben shifted away from him toward the hall. "Well, her youngest was about six years old. Maybe she's forgotten some things." If he got the chance, he'd talk with her about it.
       James stepped toward his office. "Maybe you're right. I'll just have to figure out how to ask her without insulting her. It's just not fitting the right pattern."
       Ben stopped moving and watched James disappear. James always orchestrated insight from his patterns, and heaven help him if his patient didn't conform, because James just didn't sleep until he found out why not. But James was usually right when it came to his pregnant ladies, or any other patient he had strong feelings about. He would have to remember to talk with Maggie more about the baby, otherwise he would be subjected to James's sleepless disposition.
         * * * *
       "Darn it," Maggie moaned, squirming around so she could sit up in bed. With her right arm confined in its sling most of the time, it would become stiff. She wiggled her fingers to relieve the pressure that made it ache. The only time her arm was free from its prison was during therapy -- torture time. The therapists might appear pleasant on the outside, even spoke nicely, but they must have evolved from the dungeon masters of medieval times.
       She managed to get into a comfortable sitting position just as her door opened. The wall clock's hands indicated noon, so the man now standing there either couldn't tell time or couldn't hear. The eerie, inexplicable chill seemed to envelop the room.
       "Hello, my love," came the congenial greeting. "You've sure made a real mess of yourself."
       "Yes, I suppose I have. What are you doing here anyway?" she asked, managing to keep her voice calm. I wish Shane were here to unnerve him, she thought tiredly. I don't want to talk to this man.
       "Why -- I'm here to see the woman I cherish most in all the world. I'll get you released by tomorrow." He walked across the room and leaned against her bed. "I had an enlightening visit with a friend in the law-enforcement business. Seems the law about keeping someone against their will, even exists in the boonies." Ken's shrill tone was grating on Maggie's nerves like aluminum foil scrapping on the side of a pan.
       "I suppose," she replied sweetly. "But -- do you know someone imprisoned against their will?"
       "You know damned good and well you are," he ground out, his teeth clenched. He reached out and his fingers closed firmly around her chin. After taking a deep breath, he smiled. "If you don't return to California as soon as possible, and I mean immediately, and we -- you and I, correct our thousand problems, I don't think I can ward-off the hounds. They want your blood, Maggie. Money, and I'm talking about large amounts of lost money, can make people really angry."
       Ken tilted Maggie's chin up higher, and though his gaze was cold and unyielding, his tone remained affable. "If it weren't for the fact your husband worked for my office, I'd make sure you had to handle all this yourself. Our office has a perfect reputation, and I'm obligated to keep it that way."
       Maggie flinched inside, she'd seen him work before and he usually did get precisely his own way. As a courtroom lawyer, he knew exactly how to do his job with such cunning he seldom lost a case. Ken could be the perfect actor, and he always followed the script effortlessly.
       She wanted to scream and yell at him, but nothing she'd ever said to him made a difference; he seemed stone-deaf to everyone's words but his own.
       Josh's personality and work ethics hadn't come close to resembling this man standing before her. How could he have been so blind? Since she was flimflammed by Ken's friendly facade, too, she had no room to judge fault and could ask the same question about herself.
       Maggie tried to push his hand away from her chin, but Ken increased the firmness of his grip and continued, "You and I need a secure partnership, Maggie. Then you'll come out of this absolved and unscathed. It's all so infinitely simple."
       "You don't understand, Ken," Maggie mumbled, unable to open her mouth very far. "I don't owe anyone anything, and I won't go with you." What she wanted, was to get back and have Jacob Campbell get to the bottom of it.
       "No, Maggie, you don't understand. It'll take your signature to straighten out this mess, and my patience is gone. Your behavior the past few months proves you're not mentally responsible." He chuckled. "Even your friends can attest to that. If you don't come back and take care of business, I'll start court proceedings myself on the grounds that you aren't competent. Someone else can then sign the business documents." He hesitated, his eyes brightening. "I don't think that would endorse your position as a mother with a new baby."
       He lowered her chin slightly, and his glacial-gray eyes roamed over her face as he leaned forward and kissed her lightly.
       "You're out of your mind," she sputtered against his lips. Maggie could barely get the words out. If he held her jaw any tighter, she would most likely have bruises in the morning.
       "I think it's your mind that's in question, but what I said, I mean. Now, get yourself discharged tomorrow, or I'll get the steamroller on the move. Fight this, and it becomes your word against mine. I think you know who'll be flattened by it."
       She placed her hand on his, again trying to make him release her, but he tightened the hold. Then he withdrew his hand and gently tucked an errant curl behind her ear.
       Her question of his motive returned to her mind. If he didn't even see her as a friend, why did he bother with her? He said the reputation of his office concerned him; however, it just didn't seem like enough reason ... not nearly enough for all this trouble. No. It still didn't make any sense -- 
       "It would be a good idea if you took yourself out of here, Remley," Ben said, moving into the room. "I can't count as high as three, so you don't have that long."
       When Ben started across the room, Ken stepped back.
       "If my memory serves me right," Ben said quietly. "I believe I explained visiting hours, now get the hell out of here."
       "Sorry, Doctor, but we have important, private business to discuss immediately." Ken's face flamed with anger, but he smiled and backed toward the door. "You remember what I just said, Maggie, there isn't a great deal of time left." He turned quickly as Ben again headed in his direction and left the room.
       Ben walked over to Maggie, gently took her chin in his hands, tipped her face, and examined the light red marks on her skin. "That sonofabi...!" His jaw snapped shut as he jerked around to follow Ken. Then Ben stopped; suddenly, because Maggie was holding a tight fistful of his white coat sleeve.
       "Please," she implored. "Don't leave me right now, please." Her voice cracked, catching his immediate attention.
       "Okay," he said, eyeing her closely. "If you explain what went on in here. Otherwise, I'll just go and impress the hell out of Remley with my ability to discuss this reasonably." I'll probably do that anyway, he mumbled to himself. She could have some bruising around her jaw tomorrow and the shaky influence he had on his temper was slipping fast.
       "Please," she whispered, "would you mind holding me a little while."
       Ben sat down heavily and cradled her gently in his arms. She appeared deep in thought, so he sat quietly, waiting for her to speak.
       She just asked me to hold her.
       Bloody damn! What really went on here? He'd better keep alert; this was not her typical behavior. She may have allowed him to hold her, but she'd never invited it before.
       What was he going to do with this woman?
       Maggie brushed the hair from her forehead. "Ben?"
       "Humm?"
       "Would you please consider discharging me soon?" She exhaled a deep sigh. She'd been holding her breath, her mind searching for the right way to make him listen.
       He pushed her back from him to read her eyes. "What would prompt such a question?" Now maybe he would find out what was going on.
       "I should just go with Ken and get the problems straightened out. I'm confused about the business he wants me to complete, and he says he'll explain it all when we get back. I -- I want to go and learn what it is and have it over with."
       When she gnawed on her lower lip, and her cheeks flushed delicately, Ben ignored her words. "You haven't told me yet what went on in here earlier." He'd been close to her for almost two weeks, and she'd almost killed herself trying to avoid Remley. Now she wanted to leave with him? Pull my other leg, Maggie.
       "Why don't you have a great deal of time left, Maggie? Either you explain why he was using force, or I'll find Mr. Remley and extract it from him."
       "He wasn't using force," she said. "He's mad at me for something I said. He was justified -- I meant to make him angry. I succeeded too well, that's all," she added calmly. "He's an excellent lawyer, and he's been a family friend for years."
       Ben believed her even less when her usually steadfast gaze slid to the middle of his chest. But he didn't try to stop her.
       "Ken says there's no need for us to fight and wants to help me. I must leave with him, Ben. Was he right -- you can't detain me here against my wishes?"
       Did she imagine she could deceive anyone with that series of bull? Resisting the impulse to state what he was honestly thinking, Ben sat back on the bed and folded his arms across his chest. "If he told you we couldn't detain you against your will, he's right, but you're not going anywhere -- not yet. Your shoulder hasn't healed enough for discharge. You're still courting a few stitches, plus you need several hours of physical therapy."
       For a while this morning she had opened up to him and shared her emotions; now she seemed closed-up tighter than a bank vault and wasn't about to reveal anything to him. He'd kept his tone strictly professional, but she wasn't buying it. Just as he didn't believe the garbage she was handing him every time she opened her mouth. He recognized the expression in her eyes.
       He switched strategy.
       "You know how I feel about you," he said, feathering his fingers down her cheek. "We have a little old-fashioned getting-to-know-each-other to do -- "
       "Please," she interjected, nervously twisting her sheet, "just leave me alone. You don't understand."
       No, she didn't understand, and Ben wondered how to delay Remley long enough to get the information he needed. He wanted Maggie to live her life uninterrupted and the way she wanted it.
       He shoved to his feet and watched her mangle the sheet in her hand. Oh hell, now she behaved as if she might be afraid of him. Damn! In about two seconds he would lose his temper, so he'd better just leave before he did, or said, something he would regret. She had enough bruises for one day.
       "We'll talk about this later when you've rested," he said, his voice harsher than he wanted, but frustration was seeping through and taking over. "You don't need to feel concerned about Remley, or debts, or anything else he's spouting off, because I plan on handling everything."
       Where was he going? "But what about releasing me? And what do you mean you'll be taking care of everything? What are you planning to do?" Ken was a rough character when crossed, and what Ben was saying with such determination was frightening.
       "Later." His muffled response came over his shoulder as he rushed out the door.
       She pushed back on her pillows, decidedly out of breath and startled from his sudden departure. He is a completely crazy man. Oh, it would be all her fault if he got himself into trouble over Ken.
       He'd pulled away so suddenly that he left her feeling desolate. Nevertheless, she wanted him away so he wouldn't get hurt -- but he wasn't going to stay away -- she knew it by the uncompromising look he'd shot her on his way out of the room.
       Ben's dark eyes could sparkle with anger or caress her with languid velvety tenderness -- easily become passionate and sultry.
       No mild emotions here -- they were downright unpeaceful ones, and the only single term she could think of was incredible; everything concerning him was beyond the realm of anything in her experience.
       She and Josh married when they were very young; maybe maturity made the world look different. The feelings in their relationship had been comfortable young love -- completely unlike the turbulent depth of what invaded her now.
       She pushed her pillow up and wiggled around to get comfortable. Josh might have become confused about his life and sometimes careless with his professional paperwork, especially after he started relying on her reading it and looking for discrepancies, but he was always honest. He would have liked Ben, and the boys would have loved him. Maggie lifted the photo from the bed table, gazed at the smiling faces, then held it close against her heart. If she allowed herself to love Ben, he would most likely be joining them. The statistics were proof positive.
       Somehow she had to relax and endure one day at a time.
       Glory! The way things happened around here, taking one minute at a time would probably prove to be the easiest. But she must avoid thinking about Ben, start working on getting back to California, and how she would talk Jacob Campbell into investigating Kenneth Remley.
       Suddenly Ken's words exploded into her memory with such force her head ached, and her hands began to shake. If Ken could prove her incompetent, he would have the power to make the court believe she couldn't take care of her baby.
--------
         *Chapter 14*
       Ben walked toward his office, doing his best to fight down his anger. It was a good thing Remley wasn't in the hall, because his fingers itched to yank the man's expensive silk tie snugly against his neck.
       "Ben, amigo, I've been looking all over for you," came an accented voice near his right arm. "Where have you been hiding?"
       Ben jumped. "Give a person a break, Father Paul. You shouldn't sneak up on people like that." The graying priest's height barely made it to Ben's armpit, and yet, at times, he seemed bigger than life.
       Father Paul chuckled. "Sorry, my friend, I thought I was making plenty of noise."
       "You probably were, but my mind was on other things, I guess. Where have you been? It's been a couple of weeks since we've seen you around here." Ben gestured toward his office, and the two men continued down the hall.
       "I left a message for you; but, my new help didn't get it delivered. I had a family emergency that kept me busy in Tucson for two weeks."
       "Well, I'm glad you're back. James and I need you to speak with Bob and Tina Vega. We don't seem to be getting anywhere."
       Father Paul nodded his head. "James was leaving, but he told me about the baby and how the loss is affecting them. I'll visit them later today when everything is quiet. He also suggested I stop and see Maggie Rand. What do you think?"
       Ben answered thoughtfully, "I don't know if she'll talk to you or not, but she has some heavy problems. As her friend, I would like you to talk to her. But James is her doctor, and he is usually always right in his requests."
       "I'll see her then. You know I never force myself on anyone, but I like to visit everyone here."
       "I know exactly how you work." Ben chuckled. "Why else would we turn the difficult problems over to you? Come in my office, and I'll give you the nurses' evaluation on the Vega couple."
         * * * *
       Ben had to come back.
       When Maggie grabbed the signal cord beside her bed and pushed the red button, her hand was shaking. She had to stop Ben from bothering Ken, or he would carry through the threat about the baby.
       A knock on the door made her jump nervously. That was a new one, she thought, no one ever knocked before. "Come in." She hoped Ken wasn't on the other side.
       A middle-aged man with silvery hair, wearing black trousers, a black cardigan sweater over a white shirt, and a Priest's collar, came through the door. His black eyes sparkled, and his smile was warmly inviting. "I'm Father Paul Rodriguez, Mrs. Rand. I'm visiting patients today, but if you're busy, I can come back another time."
       Flipping off the call light, she said, "I'm not busy. Please, come in."
         * * * *
       The following afternoon, Ben waited until Cheryl told him that Maggie was awake before he went to visit her. The nurses had gone in several times during the morning, observing Maggie, making certain nothing untoward was developing in her long sleep. Because she had napped off and on most of the day, James left orders for them to leave her strictly alone; mentally exhausted, she needed the healing rest.
       He watched her as he crossed the room, taking in everything about her, slowly, deliberately, from her pink-tinged cheeks to the fingers of her right hand, twisting the sheet into a knot, and finally, settling his gaze on her dark, not-at-all-happy hazel eyes.
       She hasn't looked like that for days, he thought. Remley would have to pay for this. Somber, stormy, or happy, she was beautiful, and the warmth created by that beauty, invaded him internally, erupting in his chest and then throughout his abdomen. Doing his best to ignore his response, he walked toward her.
       "Good afternoon, Maggie," he said evenly. "Are you feeling okay?" He regarded her carefully, waiting to see if she would give away what thoughts were lying behind the depressed darkness of her eyes. He refused to give up hope that she would confide in him again soon.
       He knew Father Paul Rodriguez had visited with her. Ben remembered Father Paul's appraisal of her anxieties, and right now she appeared to mirror his description perfectly.
       Obviously Remley had pulled a real number on her yesterday. Would she keep it buried within? Or, would she finally trust him enough to tell him about it?
       The good Friar also managed to criticize Ben's initial "rough" treatment of such a delicate patient. Ben shrugged inwardly at the thought. Well, Father Paul wasn't there when she felt determined to die.... Father Paul was probably right, and he was worrying about nothing. After all, she'd given him her word not to leave until James gave his approval, and she seemed much happier the past few days. Until now.
       And, right now he would love to interpret what went on underneath her facade. He put himself on alert. Those darkened eyes and the set of her jaw certainly wore the earmarks of trouble.
       "I'm feeling much better." Her voice was soft and light. "I can't believe I slept ten hours, then half the day."
       Nothing given away there, he thought. "Yes, well, you were exhausted. Doctor James didn't want to bother you while you were resting. But he's away this afternoon. Cheryl will be here in a minute with the dressing cart. We'll be changing your dressings."
       "But -- Cheryl usually does this."
       "I realize that, but I want to examine your wound today."
       "Good afternoon," Cheryl said cheerfully, pushing her cart through the door.
       When she reached the side of Maggie's bed, the intercom phone on the side table rang, and she picked up the receiver. "Nurse Cheryl," she answered. "Please hold on for just a moment."
       "Doctor, I'm needed at the front desk."
       Ben nodded his approval as he pulled the cart to the bed.
       "Be right there." Cheryl hung up the phone and looked at Ben. "Do you want me to send in another nurse?"
       Ben waved the idea away. "No, I can manage this easily myself. Just be sure you leave the chart."
       Maggie's gaze was decidedly wary. Was she going to act afraid of him again?
       Cheryl turned and patted Maggie's hand. "I'll be back in to visit you later."
       "Okay," Maggie said, wadding her sheet tighter, but her gaze never wavered from his.
       He pulled the cart against his side, slipped her arm out of the sling, and clipped away the bandages with blunt scissors. "Have you looked at your injuries?" he asked, stripping away the final covering.
       "Yes," she breathed quietly. "They have an ugly, unique design." Maggie raised a shaky hand and brushed the hair from the side of her face, but she kept her gaze straight ahead on him, not looking at her body.
       He gently caressed her cheek. "You're definitely unique, but nothing about your design is ugly." He remembered the multitude of emotions he'd felt when he saw his own injuries for the first time. She appeared to be taking it much better than he did. "There won't be a great deal of scarring, Maggie. If what remains bothers you, cosmetic surgery can take care of it."
       "Doctor James told me about that," she said, her voice thoughtful. "At this point in time, I'm much more concerned with having a healthy baby, than a perfect body."
       He shifted his attention and examined her damaged shoulder. "We've been bringing this small drainage tube out a little at a time," he explained. "And now, I'm going to take it out completely."
       She drew in a sharp breath, and he touched her hand. "It won't hurt, I promise."
       He chuckled at her expression of disbelief. The healing looked excellent to him, and the scarring diminished. With the help of the tube, the wound healed from the inside out. And although Maggie would have dimpled scars in her soft, peach-tinted skin, they weren't going to be severe.
       "If you say so. I'm certain you won't feel a thing," she snapped. "Isn't that the famous words that you should say next? Maybe I have the timing wrong?"
       She'd been so busy talking, she didn't notice he had snipped and pulled stitches and held the tube securely in his hand. "Yep, come to think of it, you've taken the words right out of my mouth." He couldn't hide his grin.
       Her cheeks flushed a deeper red. "You find your work humorous don't you?" Right away, he picked up on the warning in her tone. She was squeezing her eyes shut as he began replacing the gauze to her shoulder, and he could barely suppress laughing out loud.
       He put the finishing touches on the dressing, slipped her left arm back into its sling, moved up farther on the bed, and captured her lips with his before she could realize what happened.
       Gently, slowly, he tasted her, enjoying her lips moving under his, enjoying her softness, and the delicate peach scent of her. Touching Maggie Rand was becoming as essential as breathing. He had no desire to consider the time when he wouldn't be able to watch her, discuss things with her, listen to her soft gravelly voice, taste the provocative honey of her little mouth.
       Why? Why did he do this to her? Her heart was beating crazily from the suddenness of his attack, and she could trace the feverish veins of excitement spreading out in her abdomen. Her body ached for him. Instinctively she shifted closer to his rugged warmth, which caused a movement in her shoulder that forced her to flinch.
       He drew away from her lips, feathered caresses over her eyes, holding her still until the discomfort subsided.
       The gnawing desire became more intensified. Damned hormones, she thought vaguely, hormones, thirty-two-year-old hormones, pouring into her system in a flash flood of sensuous longing. It had to be that; she'd never before wanted a man with such yearning.
       "Why are you doing this?" she managed against the heated temptation of his mouth.
       "Can't help myself," was his short reply as he switched to enjoy her ear lobe, then left it to ravish whisper-soft kisses down her neck to the pulse pounding erratically near her shoulder. "You taste and smell so good," he murmured, bring his lips back to hers.
       "Please," she tried to plead, but he was already destroying her reason as he kissed her again. This delight could go on forever, as far as she was concerned. The warmth from the palm of his large hand splayed against her arm brought pleasure journeying through every cell he encountered. She wanted to feel him against her. Too many articles of clothing and bandages were in the way.
       "Please what?" he whispered near her mouth, playing with the corner, and running his tongue sensuously across her lower lip.
       Right -- she thought -- please what? -- ooh, all her brain could manage was massive confusion. This had to stop!
       She tried to pull away from him and met with no resistance. The look he gave her was potent, making it hard for her to draw breath. She couldn't remember any man ever looking at her like that. It made very strange sensations flow over every inch of her skin.
       "You -- you're not very fair -- attacking an injured person," she managed to get out. His smile deepened the laugh lines at the corner of his black eyes, and Maggie's breathing stepped up again.
       "Ahh," he drew out. "Perhaps not, but when you're spitting fire at me, I can't seem to help myself."
       Maggie stared at him, suddenly aware that she wanted him -- for however long it could last. It was obvious that happy-ever-after just wasn't one of the gifts in her destiny, in the past or the present or the future, but she didn't want to think about it; she didn't want to care -- 
       "I don't understand," she murmured to herself.
       Ben shook his head. "Maybe someday we'll both understand, Maggie." He rose to his feet and gazed down at her.
       "Sure," she said, trying to hide her bewilderment. She felt so cold now that he was standing away from her -- right where she wanted him to be -- well -- didn't she?
       No. Darn it, she didn't. But she needed to talk to him, needed to stop him from bothering Ken. She stayed awake all night trying to figure out how to convince Ben to leave Ken alone. Her main success for the effort was in getting so tired she slept all day.
       He leaned down and brushed a kiss on her cheek. "I have something serious to talk to you about. So be good and just sit back and listen for a minute."
       What they'd been doing wasn't serious? "What is it? Because when you're finished, I have something serious to discuss too."
       "I need to talk with you about Kyle Lockwood."
       His expression changed from that of an aggressive lover, to one of a concerned doctor and as she watched the amazing transformation, she had to choke back the laugh pushing at her throat. He was getting better at it each time she saw him do it.
       Maggie struggled to follow his lead and forget the fervor he'd just created. It wasn't easy. Her awakened senses were whispering love across her heated skin like gentle ocean breezes on a hot summer night; only they were slamming into the cold panic Ken's threat had aroused, even though Father Paul's words had steadied her considerably.
       "Kyle Lockwood?" she managed to ask, sounding nearly normal.
       "He's the one who pulled the trigger and caused you to be here." Ben thought she still looked tired. "Are you sure you're up to this?" He leaned his thigh against her bed and crossed his arms over the front of his chest.
       "Sure. Is something wrong?" If the frown between his eyes reflected his concern, this was serious.
       "What he did to you is tearing him apart. It's been tearing him apart since it happened, but now, it's worse. You and I, if you want to, can help him." Ben paced back and forth by her bed, pushing his hand through his hair. "Understand, I'm not playing psychiatrist. What happened is in the past and can't be changed. Nevertheless, he's a human in trouble."
       He turned to look her full in the eyes, his voice blunt. "Are you going to file any charges against him?"
       Maggie couldn't detect anything that sounded as though he wanted to protect Kyle. She remembered him. He came to see her once, but Kyle and the police just became cast members of the nightmare she was having.
       "No, I'm not filing any charges against Kyle. The police discussed it with me briefly. Why do you ask?"
       "If you planned to file charges, you wouldn't want to be talking to him about what happened."
       Maggie shook her head. She didn't feel the slightest animosity toward the person who shot her. In truth, she hadn't thought about it at all. When the police had visited her, they'd tried to force her to think about it. At the time, only pain ruled her; later, she just didn't care.
       In her panicked concern for Shane, she had fired a gun, and if anything, they both were equally to blame for the outcome. Although she fired at the sky, she had fired first, activating the whole sequence of turmoil.
       "What is it you think I can do to help?" She certainly couldn't think of anything. "Did you want me to let him know how I feel?"
       "Yes. If you're certain you want to."
       Maggie nodded her head in agreement as she watched him start pacing again. Ben wasn't showing any emotion in his handsome face, but his eyes were shining in such a marvelous way she could almost feel the touch of his hand. Her heart rate increased, and it had just returned to a normal pace.
       "When do you think you would feel up to it?"
       Maggie scooted off the side of the bed, and walked the three feet to the chair beside the window. "Any time you think he can come, I'll talk with him. I just hope I say the right things. I know it's been painful for him ... for both of us."
       Ahh, Maggie, what a tender, forgiving person you are. Before she could sit down, Ben put his arms around her. "Anything you say will be right. I believe what he needs most is to see that you're steadily getting better."
       Ben felt the baby moving against his hip, and his heart lurched. "It's going to be a beautiful baby, sweetheart; bright hazel eyes, auburn hair, turned up nose."
       Love came so strongly his whole body ached with it. Never in his life had any woman caused this innate awareness that he couldn't pull away from or ignore. In the short time he'd known Maggie she'd managed to turn his life inside out. The medical field was demanding, and Maggie was a woman who should have someone constant to share life with. It was what he wanted to be capable of giving.
       But it was the sole element he couldn't offer her.
       The only people he knew who had managed to mix oil and water without conflict, were his parents. They'd had a mystical way of being together even when they were apart.
       Yet, with Maggie, he could almost feel that mysterious element. His senses came alive, and he wanted to explore all of them.
       Her softly rounded figure felt so good against him that when she moved away an elusive part of his spirit left with her.
       He allowed her to move away and watched her sink into the chair. Her movements were slow but graceful -- except for the new depression in her eyes, everything about her appeared so much healthier than a mere four days ago.
       When Sue told him about the tragic losses of her family, he found it easier to understand her death wish.
       Then the mysterious Mr. Remley came. The lawyer was trying all kinds of tactics to pressure Maggie into leaving with him. Would it make her run? If Remley's pressure methods made her head for the door, he would step in and remove Mr. Remley. If he couldn't do anything else, he could see to it she had the chance to make her life the way she wanted it.
       He shook his head. "I'll let you know when Kyle is coming so you can be prepared." He headed for the door.
       He couldn't leave until she finished with him.
       She pushed to her feet. "Wait, please," Maggie blurted out. "I want my chance to request a favor."
       Ben stopped.
       Maggie studied his strong features as he returned to her side. Father Paul advised her to confide in Ben. She would have to swallow her uncertainty and take the gamble; at this point, she didn't have much to lose.
       "Ken told me that if I didn't go home right away," she said, striving to control the shakiness of her voice and failing, "he would prove me incompetent so someone else could sign the documents he's worrying about. I can't allow him to do that -- it would jeopardize my baby -- I won't allow him to make the authorities take my baby. Please, Ben, talk James into releasing me."
       Ben took her face gently between his hands. "Easy, Maggie, just take a deep breath, then try to answer me. Where were you going when you left California, and why did you end up in the cave?"
       Relaxing against his fingers, she could feel the calmness of his voice steadying the erratic beating of her heart. Then she met his gaze and held it as she described to him how after Josh and the boys died, and in a confused haze of pain, she'd sold everything she owned and paid all the debts she and Josh had accumulated between them, then gave the biggest chunk to Ken, including the insurance money.
       "The money in your safe is what I have left," she continued. "It would have been enough until I found employment. Ken wouldn't answer my questions about investments Josh was to have made. He wouldn't let me read any files. I had nothing to do with any investments. I don't feel any responsibilities for them. Why my name would be on any documents, I don't know. I do know I didn't sign anything."
       Maggie shifted away from the secure pressure of Ben's hands. "I wanted a new start in a new place, and I didn't want to spend the last of my money hiring a lawyer to deal with Ken." She cleared her throat. "Does that label me mentally unstable?" she asked, her voice cracking as she remembered Ken's unmerciful words.
       Ben shook his head, pushed her gently into the chair, and knelt beside her. "Why the cave?"
       "I had a flat tire in some little town, I can't remember the name of, just outside of Tucson. I heard the sheriff talking to the station attendant about a missing woman, describing my station wagon and the dogs and me. I believe that sheriff recognized me, only for some reason, he allowed me to hear the warning and pretended he hadn't seen me."
       Ben nodded, his fingers stroking her hand. "Arizona sheriffs don't get excited about missing persons who appear healthy and who don't appear to be missing."
       "Maybe, but that's when I decided to camp out for a couple of days or so, hoping they'd stop looking for me. Only, I got the flu or something and ended up staying much longer than I planned. I was preparing to leave when you and your men arrived." Her voice came out a throaty whisper. "For all I knew you were stealing those cattle, and it scared me to death to think you would discover me. Then Shane broke loose, and I was afraid one of you would shoot her. I don't know what I expected to accomplish by firing that gun, but I know I didn't expect anyone to shoot back."
       Ben covered her shaking hand with his. "That was a shock to all of us, sweetheart." He squeezed her hand gently. "Thank you for telling me, Maggie."
       "You have to get James to release me, Ben. Please let me go," she implored. "I have to get back and find someone to help me go over those documents. I can't live if Ken manages to have someone take this baby -- I couldn't survive it -- I wouldn't want to survive it." The unwanted panic was seeping back.
       Ben rose to his feet. "I promise you, sweetheart, Mr. Remley just doesn't wield that much power. James is influenced by James, Maggie, and he will release you when he feels you're ready. Meanwhile, I have friends in California who can help." His lowered his tone, hoping to soothe her anxiety. "Whatever needs to be done to straighten this out I'll help you with it. But you have to trust me and promise to give me some time."
       After she nodded her agreement, he walked toward the door. "Don't worry, just have a little faith in me."
       Maggie stared at the empty doorway. She wasn't getting through to him. Yes, she trusted him; no, she didn't want him involved. She may have to break her promises about leaving and giving him time.
       It would be better to leave with Ken than allow him to cause the people here the kind of grief he was capable of dealing out. If she refused to go, he would be back with more threats, or worse, the police.
       Ben said "Don't worry" -- ha -- don't worry -- he didn't realize how relentless Ken was. She shivered.
       Attempting to dispel the chill her thinking about Ken brought on, she switched her focus to Kyle Lockwood and what Ben had said about him. She made a promise, and she would keep that promise. But what on earth she could say that would eliminate his guilt, completely eluded her.
       "Help someone else when I can't seem to help myself -- Darnit -- I am going to help myself!" she muttered forcefully.
       She leaned back in the chair and laid a hand on her abdomen. The baby moved, wiggling as though it were trying to get comfortable. "Shh, sweet baby, I'll sing you a lullaby."
       The words came to her mind with ease. She'd always loved to sing, and this evening, to concentrate on the baby was exactly what she needed. Then parts of her very-real dream flashed in her mind -- Ben holding her on the horse, his voice, his words. She remembered the way he'd shared his feelings the morning after her dream escape, and she knew why she trusted him.
         * * * *
       What he was hearing was better than nothing. Ben sat on his desk, breaking pencils with one hand and holding the phone receiver with the other. "Thanks, Neil. I'll talk to you later then." He hung up the receiver and swept four broken pencils into the wastebasket.
       Not much news to get excited about, but Neil did say they were accumulating some rather interesting info on Mr. Remley. Neil wouldn't tell him what it was. He kept saying he would be in touch as soon as he had conclusions and not simply grapevine hearsay.
       Frustrating, bloody damned frustrating. It was strange that Neil's detective didn't want any money. Next time Ben talked to Neil he would remember to find out the reason why. The man undoubtedly knew how to work fast -- 
       There was a tap on his door. "Yeah," he answered absently.
       Cheryl walked into the room with a strange but satisfied look in her eyes. "Guess what I just heard?"
       "Cheryl," Ben muttered, "I'm not in a mood for guessing games."
       "Okay, okay," she said, waving a hand at him. "But I have to tell to you what I heard when I passed Maggie's room just now. Ben, she was singing -- a lullaby. You were aware that Father Paul was in yesterday and visited with her. Don't you think she's been more open since their talk?"
       "Yes," Ben said a little grudgingly. He wanted to be the one who sparked the trust she needed to talk about Remley. Getting up from the desktop, he walked around to his chair and sat down heavily. "Whatever they talked about must have helped her a great deal." He, however, needed more proof that the transformation would last. Granted, she'd taken the first big step when she told him about Remley's threat. The suddenness of her capitulation was still overwhelming.
       "I had hoped my little news would take some of those lines off your forehead. You could be doing permanent damage to your face," Cheryl said, her eyes shining wickedly.
       Ben smiled at her. "If Maggie continues opening up, maybe there'll be time to rescue my face."
       Cheryl stared at him closely, as if trying to diagnose the outcome. "I guess it's possible, but time is of the essence." She laughed as he rose from his chair threateningly. "Well, I do believe I'll just hustle back to work." Cheryl turned to leave.
       "I think that when she was walking around in her feverish delirium, she intended to leave. So keep an eye on her, Cheryl. I hope this change is permanent, but just in case...." Cheryl didn't know about the added pressure Remley applied, or realize the panic Ben detected behind Maggie's renewed depression.
       "I understand. I'll still keep watch. Maggie seems more confident and secure, Ben. I think you're worrying for nothing. Talk to you later."
       After Ben watched Cheryl close the door behind her, he leaned back in his chair, swung it around and gazed out the window. When Maggie had finally talked about Josh, exposing herself, granting Ben a glimpse at her tender, inner spirit, she'd taken his heart. That one candid step secured his love for her like none other could. Still, she seemed to be holding back about Kenneth Remley. Ben slapped his hand against his thigh. Maybe she didn't even realize she was holding back.
       Singing a lullaby. Lord, he wished he could stand by her door and listen.
       Better yet, kneel beside her, rest his hand on her abdomen and share the moment. He wanted to share everything with her.
       She drugged him physically, but he wanted more ... much ... much more. More than one human had a right to desire from another, especially when the time and dedication he would have to offer in return, just weren't good enough.
       Years ago his father told him he would feel like this some day. He hadn't believed it. What did a father know anyway?
       It was a long time coming -- 
       "Yea, Pop. You knew exactly what you were talking about." He smiled, placed his pen in his shirt pocked and stacked the files on his desk. The human insight to intelligence was truly amazing; since the older you were, the smarter your parents managed to be.
       Ben shoved to his feet and headed for the door. He would visit the nursery and get involved with a man-to-man chat with Nick. Maybe, together, they could work out life's complications.
--------
         *Chapter 15*
       Should she go outside, or wait longer and suffer?
       Maggie paced impatiently away from the window and back again. Ben came in early to tell her that Kyle would be coming sometime today.
       She'd waited all morning in her room, and being cooped up was beginning to suffocate her. The clear, sunny beauty of the day beckoned so invitingly she could almost hear it speak.
       The vision of herself, sitting unconfined and comfortably on the patio while drinking up some sunshine, quickly became irresistible.
       Ben could find me easily there, Maggie reasoned.
       When Kyle arrived, it would be a more congenial place to talk anyway. It all sounded like perfect justification to her. What was she waiting for?
       Two steps down the hall, Maggie heard a baby crying and swiftly turned and headed for the sound; the pleasurable noise reeled her in like steel to a strong magnet.
       When she reached the area from which the temptation originated, a sign stood in front of her written in large bold letters, along with arrows that indicated Labor and Delivery one direction and Nursery another. The sign also read, Parents and Grandparents Only.
       She hesitated.
       Since no one was around, she advanced farther, following the Nursery arrow.
       Just a few feet away, a large window took most of the wall space. The brightly colored, striped curtain on the inside hung open. Knowing the subject enticing her was behind the glass, and with curiosity getting the best of her, she had to peek inside. Maggie sucked in a slow, shaky breath, edging closer to see the action going on beyond the glass barrier.
       A nurse's hands moved with precision as she changed a baby in a bassinet, and the baby lustily exercised its lungs while its tiny arms and legs flailed the air.
       Soon it would be Maggie's first chance to mother a newborn baby. When she and Josh adopted the boys, they were one-year and two-years of age with one still in diapers and the other taking the terrible-twos and zestfully giving the idiom new meaning. It had been glorious, hour-filling work, and they had shared much of it. Josh had invested as much time in the boys as his work allowed, which unfortunately, became less and less each year.
       Josh's brother Phil and his wife had left the boys with them to go on a short business trip in their small plane. The plane had crashed just two hours after take off, suddenly leaving her and Josh with the adjustment of becoming the parents to two energy-filled toddlers. It was a challenge they grabbed and cherished, and at first the effort brought them a more positive stability in their own lives. The moment she had heard the news, Joey and Todd became hers so totally she might as well have given birth to them herself. Luckily, she and Josh had participated in their care since their birth, and it helped keep the trauma of change for the boys to a minimum.
       "Oh, what a beautiful little baby," Maggie murmured, sighing. Her right hand felt for the little one under her heart. "It won't be long, sweet one, and you can practice, too." Nine years of marriage and she couldn't conceive a child; when she finally did, there was no one left to share it with. Life was too confusing for -- 
       "No, I don't think it will be all that long either," a familiar voice said next to her ear, interrupting her thoughts that were quickly leading to depression.
       Maggie jumped guiltily. "Glory! You scared me to death! Keep that up, Ben Karr, and this baby could arrive a lot sooner than it's supposed to." She leaned lightly against the wall so she could see him better. Heavens, he'd just lopped ten-years off her life.
       "Aren't you a little off limits?" Ben asked quietly, his eyes probing hers.
       "I know. Are you going to kick me out of here?"
       "I probably will -- in a minute. I don't think you're going to hurt anything immediately." He reached out and gently brushed a stray curl from her forehead. "What made you come in here?"
       Maggie sighed deeply. "I heard a baby crying, and I couldn't help myself. I just had to investigate and see them." Flushing guiltily, she gazed at the floor. "I didn't notice any nurses around -- so -- I just kept coming."
       He made a signal through the glass, and the nurse brought the infant over to the window.
       Maggie turned to get a closer look. "Ooh, it's so delicate and precious. Is it a boy or girl?" she asked, wanting to go inside and cuddle the baby.
       "A boy. He was born yesterday afternoon, and his dad has been popping buttons off his shirt ever since. I practically had to throw the new papa out of here last night." His resonance dropped. "After we brought the baby back to the nursery, he seemed about to burn a hole in this window from staring at his new son -- not that I wouldn't do the same thing."
       Maggie Rand hadn't let him down.
       She was still here, and she was fantastically beautiful, standing there with her eyes shining excitedly.
       He brushed his sleeve across his brow. "I will always be in awe of the process of birth. It never seems to be predictable, because something always comes up that is unique and mind-boggling. The only thing that is the same, is my amazement."
       "Thank you for letting me stay a little while."
       "I've been looking for you. Kyle is on his way. He called me a few minutes ago, so I thought I would let you know." He leaned his hand on the wall behind her. His voice lowered gruffly. "I didn't realize I would have to hunt you down."
       He moved closer. "I had a moment of panic thinking you may have decided it was better to leave than to trust me," Ben added bluntly, while remembering her determined comments. "Don't do that to me again, Maggie." I won't be responsible for my actions if you keep scaring the bloody hell out of me, he thought succinctly. His nervous system was still suffering.
       Her eyes seemed radiant with delight. Her expression one of relaxed happiness, and if he said what he was feeling, that brilliance would disappear. He swallowed down the frustration that had burned all through him when he didn't find her in her room, or the halls, or the patio....
       "I'm sorry," she murmured, moving away from the wall, and trying not to look guilty. Several times she'd stopped herself from checking herself out or just leaving. "I was heading for the patio before I got distracted. Is it okay if I go there now?"
       "Yeah," he said exhausted and stepping back from her. "But do me a favor and leave word at the desk so Kyle can find you." He'd worked all night and most of the day, then not being able to locate her without an extensive search had taken about all the energy he had left.
       Maggie surveyed him closely now, noticing that he was wearing surgical cap, gown and shoes. The tired lines around his eyes and mouth produced a strong desire to settle her arms around him, to gently soothe him.
       Glory, Maggie, shove off and go outside before you make a fool of yourself. "See you later?" she asked, trying to keep the shakiness out of her voice as she turned to walk back the way she had come.
       "Probably a lot later," he answered, pushing open the door to the nursery.
       As Maggie walked back around the sign that pointed to the nursery, she heard a woman sobbing and found herself stopping in front of the door from which the sound emanated. Since the door was slightly ajar, Maggie pushed it open and peered inside. A young woman with long, black hair sat in a chair beside a window; tears streamed down her distressed face.
       Something horrible had to be wrong, Maggie thought, as she crossed the room toward the woman. She eased down on the edge of the bed and rested her hand on her rounded abdomen. "Is there anything I could do to help?" Maggie asked gently.
       The woman looked at her in surprise. "No one can help." She sobbed, swiping a hand across her eyes. Maggie handed her some tissues from the bedside table. It was easy to recognize the hopelessness in the woman's tone -- it mirrored her own devastated feelings of months ago.
       "My name is Maggie. Why don't you try me?" Maggie encouraged. "We might discover that we have a lot in common." She extended her hand in greeting.
       The woman reached out and clasped her fingers. "I'm Tina Vega," she murmured, looking at Maggie's abdomen. "I used to be pregnant, and now I'll never be able to -- " She launched into another bout of sobbing as she released Maggie's hand.
       Maggie instantly realized this had to be one of the parents of the "onerous night" which had upset Ben and Cheryl several days ago. It seemed strange she would still be in the hospital.
       "I used to have a husband and two sons," Maggie said, watching as her words slowly sank into Tina's thoughts. As Maggie explained what had happened in her life the past year, Tina stopped crying and listened. "I still think maybe I'm right," Maggie finished, "and we do have something in common."
       "I don't know how you can stand the pain," Tina whispered.
       "I couldn't for a while, but I was fortunate enough to have good friends who listened and offered me their support."
       Remarkably large tears spilled from Tina's eyes. "I -- I wish my husband didn't think it was all my fault," she said between sobs.
       Maggie stiffened her chin and handed Tina the box of tissue from the bed stand. "Did he say that?"
       Tina clutched the box in one hand, while she blew her nose, then sniffed. "Not in so many words, but -- he's so -- so angry -- there's no other reason I can think of for him to act this way with me."
       Maggie rose to her feet, aware of how poor communication between spouses could cause unthinkable damage, and touched Tina's shoulder gently. "Why don't you ask him instead of trying to analyze his thoughts?"
       "Maybe," Tina mumbled.
       Maggie walked toward the door. "I have to meet someone," she explained. "But I'll come back and see you later."
       Tina nodded as Maggie moved out the door.
       When Maggie entered the hall, she headed back toward the nursery. She had to find Ben and talk to him about Tina. When she reached the large viewing window, the curtain was no longer open, but the curtains didn't overlap, and since she could see light coming through the small slit, she pressed close to the glass and peered inside.
       Ben was sitting in a large, ornate rocking chair feeding a baby. The man was constantly doing something amazing.
       A hand lightly touched her arm, and Maggie was certain her heart stopped. Standing beside her, was the same nurse she'd watched earlier in the nursery. "Sorry," the nurse whispered, "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm Carole, Maggie, is there anything I can do for you?"
       Maggie nodded toward the window. "I was looking for him," she whispered back. "I can't believe what he's doing."
       Carole chuckled softly. "He likes to feed Nick."
       "Nick?"
       While she listened to Carole explain about Nicholas and his situation, a small light bulb came on in the back of Maggie's mind, and the longer Carole talked, the brighter the concept blossomed.
       "So," Maggie said thoughtfully. "You have an orphan who requires parents -- and, so to speak, orphaned parents."
       "What are you thinking, Maggie?"
       "Could we discuss this with Doctor Ben?"
       "I'll put one of our nursery gowns on you, and you can go inside."
         * * * *
       She simply ignored the embarrassed look on Ben's face while she told him her idea. It took twenty minutes for her to talk Ben into at least thinking about it. Carole had looked skeptical, but she thought the idea might be worth a try. Ben had to leave for a while, and all he would say was he would get back to her about it, this afternoon. He shook his head and said that Mr. Vega made it perfectly evident he wanted nothing to do with any alternatives in becoming a parent.
       "He practically kicked me out of there," Maggie grumbled, heading for the patio. If Ben wouldn't agree, she just might have to chance her gambit alone. Someone had to do something, and do it quickly.
       She walked out onto the patio and barely managed to settle herself comfortably at a small table when Kyle came through the double doors and stood before her. After seeing how young and upset he appeared, Maggie had to ward off an intense desire to stand up and hug him. His expression was heartbreaking. No wonder Ben was worrying about him.
       He scuffed the toe of his boot nervously against the cement. "I'm Kyle Lockwood, Ms. Maggie," he said gently. "Do you remember me?"
       "Hello, Kyle," she greeted him, gesturing with a slight swing of her wrist toward a vacant chair nearby. "Yes, I remember. How are you?"
       "I'm fine, Ms. Maggie." He flicked his dusty cowboy hat against his knee. "How are you feeling?" His high-boned cheeks tinged pink as he moved forward, tossed his hat on the table, and folded his lanky, muscular frame onto the padded, metal chair Maggie indicated, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
       "I'm much better now, Kyle. It won't be long and this sling will be a relic-of-the-past." She glanced down at the offending contraption shackling her arm. "The exercises they give me have gotten easier, and it doesn't hurt much at all anymore." She would be completely honest with him, and if she couldn't, skirt around whatever he asked. Anything that would stop him from feeling worse.
       He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the black, wrought iron table. "I'm sure glad." Kyle's voice sounded steady, but his eyes were moist, revealing the depth of his emotion. "I've thought a lot about what happened and been wishing there were some way to help. If only I'd used my head and not my hand -- that there was some way to take back what I done." He shook his head in disgust.
       Maggie gently touched his hand. "I'm honestly much better now, Kyle. I want you to know I don't blame you for what happened to me."
         * * * *
       Their conversation had definitely been worth the time, Maggie thought, as she watched Kyle climb into a pickup in the parking lot. Maggie expelled a contented sigh. They must have talked almost two hours, and she found herself elated, but tired.
       He'd been nervous at first, but he seemed to relax as they talked. She was positive he left feeling much better about himself. There was one other thing she felt certain of; they'd become friends.
       Maggie rose to her feet, then turned to go back to her room. If she didn't get moving right away she would fall asleep right here. "Oh fudge," she groaned as she straightened, annoyed at how stiff her body was from sitting too long.
       The patio door swung open in front of her, and Ken walked outside. Knowing Ben had left the hospital, and the expression on Ken's face, made her tense uneasily.
       "That was an interesting conversation, Maggie. It was touching of you to be so forgiving," Ken drawled, stopping beside her. His set jaw and drawn lips, told her that he intended to have his way, now, and nothing would stop him.
       Ken's reference to her conversation with Kyle startled her. Glory, how long had he been standing in there listening? The self-assured expression on his face made her long to give him a well-placed right hook in the area of his nose. Her hand vibrated with the desire.
       Maggie struggled to regain her composure and wondered how she'd ever thought he was handsome. The creases in his face were harsh with his determination to impress her with whatever purpose he had in mind.
       She shot him an equally stubborn glance, but it wasn't affecting him one bit. "I can't say this is a pleasant surprise, Ken. What do you want?" Now that was assertive -- sounded good to her.
       Ken reached out, clasped a tight hold on her arm, and squeezed his fingers to make certain she wouldn't move. "I'm giving you one last chance to leave with me," he said through his teeth, plainly controlling himself. "It's no longer necessary for you to stick around here, and I've made arrangements for a local doctor to examine you as soon as we return home."
       Maggie winced as his fingers increased their pressure. Clamping her jaws together, she did her best not to allow him the privilege of seeing the discomfort he was creating. "I'll go back," she said. "But I won't travel with you." She shifted sideways. "Now, let go of my arm."
       Ken dropped his hand away from her. "Ah, but no, my darling," he said. "I don't trust you. You either come with me now, or I'll begin preparing an incompetency case the minute I'm back in my office. The choice is yours."
       His chin boosted a little higher. "Come back now, and we can get down to business immediately. After the way I saw you behaving around the good doctor, you obviously don't need any more time to grieve over your lost husband and sons."
       The anguish his words caused blew reason right out of Maggie's mind, and she took a swing at his aggravating face. The anger and hurt swooped through her, making her forget everything.
       Ken grabbed her hand before it could connect and held it rigidly between them, completely ignoring her rage. "The doctor I lined up to see you tomorrow is the best in the country." He pulled her close against him. "Show a little gratitude for my trouble," he murmured, lightly kissing her closed, stiff mouth.
       Slowly, Maggie pushed away from him, and he released her hand. She would resist letting her temper overpower her thoughts. He wasn't about to agree -- it didn't make any difference, she had to take the risk and get herself back to California, alone.
       Maggie smiled as sweetly as she could. "I'm sorry to foul up all your generous arrangements, Ken, but I'm not traveling with you. I told you I'd go back to California, and I will." She hesitated. "And when I get there, I plan to bring as many counsels as I need to get this business straightened out and over with."
       His biggest mistake was implying she stopped thinking about Josh and the boys. Forget her family? Never! They would always be around her, forever. She would not allow him to unnerve her with shock tactics.
       All she ever wanted from life would probably never become reality, but she would work tenaciously with what knowledge she had and build the finest possible life for herself and her child. If Ken wanted to force her into court, then, so be it. With Jacob's help investigating, a good attorney on her side, and her research ability, she would give Ken a fight to remember. Since he refused to leave her alone with the choice she had made, poverty or not, she would see this through if she had to stand on a street corner with a tin cup.
       "Is that your final word on it?" Instead of him releasing the storm of hostility Maggie was expecting, Ken's voice sounded quietly philosophical. And suddenly the wintry chill filled the air around them.
       Maggie controlled the urge to shiver and nodded her head, studying his expression. "That's it, sorry."
       For a moment, he looked almost sad. "I'm sorry, too," he said. "Really sorry. Good-bye, Maggie." Without another word, Ken turned and walked toward the parking lot.
       She could see that there wasn't an ounce of anger or slouch of disappointment detectable in his posture or stride.
       The eerie cold didn't leave with him.
--------
         *Chapter 16*
       Kenneth Remley had given up much too easily. She didn't trust him. What would he attempt next? Maggie watched Ken until he disappeared around the side of the building, then she walked into the hospital. By the time she approached the nursing station she was cursing under her breath.
       Cheryl stood with her hip against the nursing desk. She appeared to be working on a chart, but raised her eyes to look inquiringly at Maggie as she approached. "What happened, Maggie? You don't sound terribly happy."
       "Mr. Remley wanted me to leave with him, right now. He was insistent, but I finally convinced him I wouldn't go." Maggie sighed tiredly. "I know I have to go back to California. Still, I just can't force myself to sit beside him on an airplane or anywhere else."
       "I can certainly understand why. He has used that attorney voice on me a couple of times since he started coming around." Cheryl moved to the front of the desk and leaned back against it. "It's just too bad he always manages to slink into the hospital without our seeing him, or we could detour him. Mr. Remley is one sneaky fellow isn't he?"
       "Ken has several years of practice behind him," Maggie said, positive that if anyone could master the ability of being professionally underhanded, it was Kenneth Remley. However, she would not allow this encounter with him to shake her self-confidence. "I just don't want him to come back."
       Cheryl flipped her stethoscope around her neck and scooped the file from the desk. "I can boot out any visitors you don't want to see. Just say the word."
       "Consider it said," Maggie responded, turning toward her room.
       "You've got it," Cheryl confirmed, moving down the hall in the opposite direction.
       Maggie moved across her room and dropped down on the bed as Ben's face, along with Ken's innuendoes appeared vividly in her mind. She had responded to Ben in a way that would forever amaze her. Touching him physically gave her a feeling of wholeness she never knew existed. She wanted to hear and understand his intimate thoughts and anxieties, and craved the remarkable spirit his strength and vitality for life gave her.
       She thought she'd experienced every emotion possible. Maggie shook her head slowly, smiling -- obviously, not.
       Since the first day, Maggie had wanted to leave, get her life under control, but suddenly she realized that leaving would be one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do.
         * * * *
       Maggie had just about given up hope of hearing from Ben, when at four o'clock she looked up to see Carole opening the door.
       Carole grinned, as an accomplice should, and motioned for Maggie to come. "Doctor Ben says your plan is okay, and he said to tell you Mr. Vega will arrive here in about twenty minutes, so we'll have to get moving. Are you sure you're up to this?"
       Maggie smiled. "Oh, yes." She was most assuredly up to this. "I'll be down to the nursery in a couple of minutes."
       Carole turned around to leave. "Right," Carole said, the closing door muffling her voice.
       Being dressed in real honest-to-goodness clothes was truly giving her soul a lift. Maggie pushed into her slippers and straightened her slightly snug, rose-colored blouse. An hour ago Cheryl had brought in two pairs of maternity slacks and two cotton maternity blouses. Even after their fifteen-minute struggle to adjust it comfortably over her arm and bandages, Maggie wanted to dance with glee and kiss her. If she'd spent one more day in hospital pajamas, she would have become a screaming monster.
       It didn't take her long to reach the nursery door. She slipped inside.
       Carole's grin was contagiously broad. "I can hardly believe you were able to finagle Doctor Ben into this, but I'm glad you did." Carole closed the door and held up a long, blue-gray gown.
       "If it works," Maggie pointed out, shoving her arm into the gown. Getting her other arm in and waiting as Carole adjusted her sling was a slower process. "I don't want to imagine how explosive Ben will be, or what he'll have to say if it doesn't." Ben hadn't exactly agreed to what she'd told Carole. He sort of said she could try and persuade the Vegas to come to the nursery.
       "Think positive, Maggie." Carole patted her on the shoulder. "If it doesn't work, I'll hide you out."
       Maggie laughed. "Thanks a lot."
       She took in a deep breath and walked over to Nick's bassinet. "Oh glory, he's so sweet," Maggie whispered as she watched Nicholas suck on his fist. He gurgled, and she could have sworn he winked at her. Maybe this wasn't his first acting job. Nicholas was about fifteen days old, and, according to Carole, he had been practicing his wiles on Doctor Ben most of that time. "Well, little one, you'd better give your best performance right now, because I'm counting on you."
       Carole lifted him and placed him in Maggie's good arm. She chuckled. "Our Nicholas is a natural. I'm certain he could make a smash in Hollywood by the time he's six months old."
       Maggie snuggled Nick warmly against her breast. How in the world would she ever put him down now that he had her heart wrapped around his little finger?
       "Stick a diaper in my sling, Carole. It might come in handy. How much time do I have left?"
       "You only have about eight minutes. It doesn't seem like near enough time to accomplish what you want to do."
       Maggie went to the door. "I can only hope it's enough, but I won't find out unless I try, huh?" She grinned. "Wish us luck," she added as she pushed open the door.
       Halfway between the nursery and Tina's room, Maggie decided that just speaking with Tina Vega as Ben said she could, would never be enough, so she mustered up a face full of tears. It wasn't difficult, all she had to do, was concentrate on what had been happening to Nicholas, Tina and her husband, and herself. She glanced at Nick's sparkling brown eyes. If this didn't work out, she would have to steal him for real.
       Without hesitating, Maggie pushed into Tina's room, hurried over to the bed, laid Nick down, and, ignoring the sputtering noise Tina made, moved back to the door where she shoved a straight-backed chair under the doorknob. Then she turned around, changing from sniffling tears to sobbing as she walked back to Nick.
       "What are you doing?" Tina whispered, her black eyes huge with confusion.
       "Oh," Maggie wailed, wondering how far she would go and realizing she would do whatever she must to make this succeed. "They want to send -- " She sobbed harder, wiping at her face with her sleeve before trying again. "They want to send this beautiful baby to the state orphanage. It's so dreadful," she moaned. "I couldn't stand it -- so -- so I stole him."
       "You did what!" Tina jumped to her feet, her glance swinging from Maggie to the baby on the bed sucking his fist. After another glance at Maggie, she pulled her frothy, emerald-green robe together and moved closer to Nicholas. "You can't steal a baby! Where can you go with him?"
       "I don't know," Maggie cried hysterically. "Someone was coming so I ducked in here."
       Nick made a nicely timed cry, and Tina lifted him into her arms while Maggie moved to stand beside them. "He's so terrific, I can't let them have him. He'll be so alone!" Maggie sat down on the bed and cried louder. "I know what it's like to be lonely."
       "Oh, Maggie, they'll be looking for him. What will you do?" Tina whispered loudly, her lovely black eyebrows crinkling upward in a frown as she put Nick on her shoulder, patting his back soothingly. "This is just so unfortunate."
       The doorknob rattled, both women stopped breathing, and Maggie said a fast prayer.
       "What the hell's going on in there?" a gruff voice asked. So far, things were going better than expected.
       Tina hissed, frantically flapping her arm at Maggie. "It's my husband Bob."
       "We'd better let him in before he alerts the whole place," Maggie advised, moving quickly to the door.
       Mentally crossing her fingers, she opened the door a crack, and eyed the man outside. Opening it wider, she looked nervously down the hall. His young, handsome face and dark-brown eyes didn't appear gullible, so she prayed for convincing talent. After glancing down the hall again, Maggie grabbed the short sleeve of Bob's blue, silk shirt, pulled him inside, closed the door, and shoved the chair back in place.
       "What?" Bob Vega's expression was an exclusive, and Maggie struggled to stay melancholy as she sagged down on the edge of Tina's bed.
       "Shh," both Tina and Maggie said in unison. It was almost as if Tina understood exactly what Maggie was doing and was aiding and abetting.
       Maggie commenced weeping at mid-volume while Tina was trying to explain to her husband what was happening. The whole time she was speaking, Bob Vega was surveying the tiny infant in Tina's arms; his expressions, bouncing between curiosity and confusion.
       When Tina finished, Bob stared at her. "You'd better explain to Maggie that the baby must go back to the nursery." Bob extended his arms. "Here, let me hold him while you try."
       Maggie subdued the chuckle that pushed at her throat. Bob Vega was awesome, utterly awesome.
       Tina handed Nick over, and Maggie whipped the diaper out of her sling. "Here," she croaked out. Tina took the diaper and handed it to Bob.
       Finding it difficult to concentrate on two things at once, Maggie half listened to Tina's attempt to reason with her as she watched Bob change Nick's diaper. Things were looking positively great. Nicholas was effortlessly climbing right into Bob Vega's heart with his soft cooing and bright-eyed charisma.
       "Did you say he was going to the state orphanage?" Bob Vega asked softly, gently wrapping Nick in his receiving blanket, then tucking him into the curve of his arm.
       Maggie pushed the hair out of her eyes. "Yes," she answered sadly, grabbing a tissue. She blew her nose loudly. "He has no one to love him, and he'll be so lonely!"
       Maggie jumped when she heard a sudden knock on the door.
       "Mrs. Vega?" Ben's low voice vibrated from the hallway, and Maggie's heart throbbed. When Ben found out what she was really doing in here, he was going to hit the ceiling.
       Tina looked worried. "A -- yes. A -- is that you Doctor Ben?"
       "Yes it is. May I come in? I'm looking for one of my patients. Actually, two of them seem to be missing, and one of the nurses thought she saw them come into your room."
       Maggie rose to her feet and put her hand out toward Nick, but Bob stepped back and held him tighter. "You might as well give in, Maggie." Bob glanced meaningfully around the room. "There just isn't any place for you to go."
       "He's right." Tina touched Maggie's arm. "Oh, Maggie, I'm so sorry, but he is right -- you know he's right."
       Maggie nodded her head and dropped her hand to her side. She turned and slowly walked to the door. After she removed the chair, she released a deep sigh and opened it.
       "Okay, Doctor, I give up. What are you going to do to me?" She hiccupped and wiped at the tears with her fingers, aware of how close he came before he stopped, and praying he would go along with her.
       Ben pulled her against his solid chest. To her amazement, he said, "Easy, Mrs. Rand, we'll talk it over and then decide how serious the circumstances are. I understand how you feel about Nick. We all love him, but hospitals just aren't equipped to raise children."
       She could hear the strong beat of his heart and resisted the urge to burrow closer while praying he wouldn't be too angry with her. She pushed back slightly and studied him. So far, so good, he didn't look angry -- yet.
       "Bob," Ben greeted as his dark eyes took in everyone in the room. "I would appreciate it very much if you would bring Nick back to the nursery while I walk with Mrs. Rand."
       Tina moved closer to her husband, her eyes glowing with excitement. "I'll take him back."
       "Come on, honey," Bob said as he took her hand and walked across the room. "We'll take Nicholas back together."
       When Bob reached Maggie's side, he stopped. "I'm sorry, Maggie." She decided he meant that he was sorry because her efforts were futile, but she didn't think so; Bob and Tina Vega were already in love with Nicholas.
       As Maggie pushed the gray gown downward and unthreaded it through her sling, she nodded. "Me too," she lied, watching them go down the hall, hand in hand, with Nicholas the center of their attention.
       She draped the gown over her arm, turned her head to study Ben's bland expression, then winked at him. Unless she missed out on something important, the twinkle in his eyes meant he was silently agreeing with her that she and Nick could be succeeding in their venture.
       "Now, Mrs. Rand, I think you need to go to your room for a rest." He scooped her into his arms and started down the hall.
       "I can walk, Doctor," Maggie protested. Her cheeks were blazing with heat. It wasn't, to her, the greatest idea for him to entertain everyone by carrying her down the hall, but it was no use fighting with him, since they were halfway there already, and three nurses had walked by with revolting grins on their faces.
       He was smiling, too, wickedly, and enjoying it too much. "Ahh, but you can't deprive me of the pleasure of delivering our resident baby-napper back to her room."
       "I can't take all the blame," Maggie muttered. "You had a couple of ideas thrown into this you know."
       "If I remember correctly," he accused thoughtfully. "You didn't mention a thing about pretending to steal Nick, or, for that matter, anything beyond you speaking to the Vegas about him."
       She ignored his words. "Do you suppose it worked?" she whispered.
       "Lord, I hope so. You can't possibly have a tear left in your body. How did you become such an accomplished actress?"
       He laughed, his deep, rich voice bringing pure delight to her ears. "It's top secret info." Maggie rested her head against his shoulder. "But, if you should happen to visit a courtroom sometime, you would soon figure it out." He was right, she didn't have any tears left, but they had been more real than he would ever know.
       This was pleasant, he was warm and strong, and he smelled terrific -- she could easily get used to the feel of his powerful arms enfolding her.
       Reluctantly, Ben set Maggie on her feet inside her room. He studied her excited, yet tired, features. "What made you decide that just speaking with the Vega couple wouldn't be enough?" he asked, watching the pink in her cheeks deepen, her expression serious.
       "When something is brutally hard to come by, like happiness, love and babies, it becomes more profoundly meaningful and cherished," she reasoned.
       Ben couldn't help but smile. He'd never had a woman, other than his mother, candidly reveal their thoughts to him. Maggie Rand would make a terrific hospital advocate. "You know, I could get real used to working with you."
       Hazel gaze met brown and held steadily. "Thank you, Doctor," she said modestly. "It's been a pleasure for me too."
       Ben dropped a kiss on her upturned nose. "Get some rest, sweetheart, and we'll discuss this and a few other things more thoroughly later." They would have to discuss it and a whole lot more. Life without Maggie Rand would be a desolate void Ben didn't have the slightest desire to experience. He wanted to ask her to abandon her 'brutally hard' plans for her future elsewhere and risk the possible heartbreak of an oil-and-water alliance with him -- but was it fair? Perhaps not. Nevertheless, he would ask, plus he wanted to fill her in on how his friends were helping her, and just how much progress they were making.
       For a moment, her eyes saddened, and Ben felt certain Maggie Rand knew exactly what he was thinking.
       "Yes," she agreed. "We need to talk. But I have a feeling neither of us will probably care much for the outcome."
       Understanding her meaning was easy enough, but he didn't want to agree with it, not yet, not until he'd exhausted every available proposal. Ben turned and walked to the door. "We'll see." He gave her a farewell salute then stopped in the middle of the doorway. "By the way," he added, inspecting her. "I like your outfit." She looked wonderful, but the blouse was fitting just a little too snugly around her middle and possibly around the bandages on her shoulder.
       Maggie laughed, holding the tail of her blouse and striking a cocky pose. "It might be a little tight," she pointed out the obvious, yanking on it. "But it beats your homely pajamas any day."
       "Can't disagree with that one," he said, moving out the door. If he worked long hours this evening, he could devote most of tomorrow to Maggie.
         * * * *
       It was early yet, but the morning started with promise.
       Maggie walked to the chair beside the window and sat down with a book in her hand. She chuckled, remembering the morning's activities. James was strongly put-out with her. The first thing he wanted explained when he came barreling in was: "Why didn't you tell me this was your first baby?" She simply told him, he hadn't asked. He'd just received her file from Doctor Baker in California, which filled him in on most of her medical background. James was a sweet man and even more charming when he was sputtering.
       After he examined her, he advised that she should eat more. He didn't believe she had gained enough, but it was difficult to understand what he was talking about because she already waddled when she walked. The baby weighed heaviest straight out in front.
       Doctor James was terrific in his treatment of her. He certainly was full of life -- maybe vinegar would be a better description, but he gave her an understanding and confidence about having this baby that she needed, badly. The first time she'd witnessed him frustrated was this morning, but his temper didn't become involved.
       She picked up the small calendar on the nightstand, making a quick count. Sixteen more days until her due date. Glory, time was creeping up on her.
       Maggie leaned forward to put the calendar back and noticed a very tiny toy mouse with a note attached sitting beside her photo. "Thought this looked like you," the note said in bold, free-swinging curves. "I'll see you around noon." He signed it with a big "B."
       Maggie chuckled as she examined her gift. The little mouse wore a cadmium-red coat and tiny pointed hat of the same color. It was so cute and soft that Maggie hugged it to her; thankful no one was around intruding on her wonderful moment of feeling as free as a child.
       Ten minutes before twelve the door opened, and she glanced up from her book as Ben entered. He wore jeans that rode low on his lean hips and a gray and black striped, western-cut shirt that fit snugly across his broad shoulders. He stopped about a foot from the door.
       She studied him thoroughly. His formidable jaw appeared set in determination, and his rugged good looks made her heart begin its damn thumping. From the glowing look in his eyes, he was about to say something, and was expecting an argument.
       "Cheryl will be in to help you get dressed," he informed her, his voice low and soothing. "You and I are going for a little ride."
       "Oh?" she said sweetly. Not, would you like to go for a ride? Not even, do you feel like going for a ride?
       Watching her through half-closed eyes, he coughed and flexed his dark brows together, then he released a deep sigh as if he'd been holding his breath.
       "Yes, sweetheart, you have fifteen minutes."
       He stepped out of the room before Maggie could come up with a good argument.
--------
         *Chapter 17*
       "If it wouldn't hurt, I'd stamp my foot and scream," Maggie mumbled. She had never stamped her foot in her life.
       "First one man says this is your last chance to go with me or else. Then another barges in and says, 'you have fifteen minutes.' It's all making me just a little crazy."
       Cheryl entered the room cheerfully, obviously catching Maggie's sarcastic mimicking and blurted words. She was carrying a shirt swinging from a hanger. "Now, now, Maggie, you know our Doctor Ben has your health and happiness on his mind." Cheryl laughed. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I think it will be pleasant. He was in a good mood when he arrived."
       "Humph," Maggie grumbled. "He sounded like a dictator."
       "He said something about a ride. It'll do you good to get out of here for a little while." Cheryl laid the shirt on Maggie's bed.
       "Okay. You've convinced me that I would be crazy for not taking him up on the, excuse the expression, invitation. I've just about forgotten what the world beyond this building looks like." Maggie laughed, picking up the large, blue pinstriped shirt. "I'd almost forgotten what it feels like to wear something that buttons, zips, and actually covers the body."
       Dressed in maternity jeans, dug up from Cheryl's cedar chest, and Ben's shirt, which easily covered both her arm and her swollen abdomen, Maggie headed for the door.
       Ben was pacing in front of his office. His limber, almost lazy strides hid the fact he could move as quickly as a cat. He always seemed so positive of everything. Absolutely no sign of weakness was visible in his over six-foot length, or in the set of his broad shoulders. He stopped as she approached, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his fascinating mouth.
       "You truly are drowning in that shirt." He laughed. "Come on, sweetheart," he prompted, placing his hand lightly on her waist. "Let's get going before the day's gone."
       The sound of his laughter was gentle, a silvery rhythm to her ears. He led her out the door toward a low-slung, metallic-black, and probably classic, Stingray. She wondered where the Jeep had disappeared to.
       "Ben, where are we going?" she asked, barely controlling the excitement of actually getting to go somewhere, and the reality that the warmth of his hand resting on her waist was beginning to revolutionize the tempo of her breathing.
       "Not far this time, because I don't want you to get over-tired. We're going on a little picnic." He opened the car door and helped her inside. "Joe's meeting us at the park with a couple of friends of yours."
       Friends? "Oh, Shane and Cricket!" She shifted, almost bouncing in the bucket seat. "I can hardly wait to see them."
       Maggie tried valiantly to keep her thoughts on the scenery as they drove, but the interior of the car positioned her near enough to Ben for her to feel as if he were touching her. Because he concentrated on his driving, she could study his profile at leisure. His usually serious facade seemed different somehow. Whatever it was, he was intent in his thoughts.
       "I guess our working together was the right approach for Kyle" he said. "He's been more like himself most of the time, and all he can do is talk about you. I would say you've made a lifetime friend."
       "I'm glad." She smiled and sighed. "When he arrived, he seemed nervous and unhappy. Then we had a long talk and I let him know I didn't blame him for anything. At least he left with a smile on his face." She brushed a stray hair from her forehead. "I received a boost from our talk too. The whole incident could have happened differently. And I'm just thankful the outcome of that day wasn't any worse than it was," she said with meaning. "Kyle could be handling this better than I would if our situations were reversed. It's in the past, and that's where I want it to stay.
       "Do we have far to go?" she asked, hoping to change the subject. She didn't want anything unpleasantly serious to cloud her happiness, nor did she want to analyze her feelings about anything or anyone.
       "We're here." He pointed to their left, and smiled, wanting her to know he approved the change of subject. "There's Joe over there. It'll just take a minute to drive around to him."
       Maggie stretched up as far as possible to see if she could spot the dogs. They were out in front of the truck Joe was leaning against. After Ben parked the car, she opened her door and tried out her whistle. It still worked. At least she hadn't lost her pucker. She laughed as the two dogs whirled around and made a reckless dash for the car.
       Ben intercepted them with a sharp command, "Hold it! You two, slow down." He turned to look at Maggie. "I don't want them leaping all over you, especially not Shane."
       Unable to wait, Maggie slipped from the car and eased herself down on the blacktop next to the dogs. "Hi, babies," she said softly, "I'm so glad to see you." Shane and Cricket squirmed until both were almost on her lap giving her eager wet kisses.
       She brushed her hand across her face and discovered some of the wetness was her own tears of happiness. "Thank you for doing this." Her voice wavered. "Shane has never jumped on me, not even when she was little. She has always had manners."
       "You're most welcome," he said, his tone slightly gruff. He reached down, offering his hand. "She jumps on me every chance she gets."
       Maggie clasped his hand, allowing him to help her to her feet. Well, she probably thinks you're a pretty good-looking fella, she thought. Shane had always shown a wise preference in the people she liked. Maggie smiled; Shane was right.
       "Joe, where's our picnic?" Ben turned to Joe, who still leaned against the truck, and who looked as if he thoroughly enjoyed watching the reunion.
       "It's here, Doc." Joe twisted, leaning into the truck window and bringing out a wicker basket with a lid. "Sarah said everything you asked for was in here."
       "Good," Ben replied. "Give us forty-five minutes, Joe," he added in hushed tones.
       "Right, Doc, see you later." Joe nodded to Maggie, got in the truck and drove away.
       "Where did you send him?" Maggie asked. She had watched the expressions traded between the two men and felt puzzled.
       Ben reached behind the front seat of the car and grabbed a blanket which he tucked under his arm. "He'll be back in a few minutes. Joe realizes I only intend to keep you out here a short while. You're nearly mended, on the surface anyway. It's going to take some devoted physical therapy to get your muscles back in good working order, but the therapist tells me you've been working overtime." He clasped her hand loosely in his. "Your hard work shows in how well you're healing."
       They walked toward a picnic table several yards away. "It seems to be taking too long," she said, frustration in her words. It seemed like she'd been there for months.
       "If you ever visit a rehabilitation unit of a hospital, you'll find people who have been in the hospital much longer than you. For many, six months would be a short stay, because they've been there for a year or more. As it is, your condition will warrant more work from you -- if you want your body back to normal again."
       He released her hand. "Come on, sweetheart, let's eat. Okay?" He set the basket on the ground. "Table or ground?" he asked, holding the blanket up.
       She chuckled as he fluttered his eyebrows comically. "The ground, and yes to your first question, let's eat." Maggie watched him flip the blanket on the neatly mowed grass and open the basket. The first things he lifted out were two bones which he handed to the two dogs begging in front of him. The dogs grabbed the bones, then raced to the shade under the tree where they dropped down and began to devour them. She couldn't resist laughing. It was like watching the boyfriend hand the little brother a dollar to get lost.
       She seemed like a delicate enchantress. The sun lit the rich auburn color of her hair, and she appeared to be bursting with life. Ben smiled, enjoying the amazed look on her lovely features as he dipped into the basket and pulled out precisely cut little sandwiches, small salads, and a bottle of champagne. Sarah had lived up to the romantic streak she seldom tried to conceal. He would have to remember to give her an extra hug.
       Ben dipped back into the basket and pulled out two long-stemmed glasses with white linen napkins folded in them. "Voila," he strung the word out as he popped the cork on the bottle. "That was for me," he informed her. "Wait a minute." He dug around in the basket and produced a corkscrew and a glass bottle filled with milk.
       "Voila," he emphasized with equal zest, then he poured the milk into the goblet and handed it to her. She seemed to hold back her comment about the milk to the point of not breathing, but she took it gracefully and sat down cross-legged beside him, looking perfectly comfortable, protruding tummy and all.
       After she balanced her milk between her knees, Ben gave her a small sandwich. Then Maggie took a big bite, and her cheeks puffed like a little chipmunk.
       "Humm, this chicken is delicious," she mumbled, devouring the rest of it and licking her fingers. "I guess I was hungrier than I thought. This is fantastic." Maggie loved the way his eyes were laughing. "Who was so thoughtful and made this so lovely?"
       She was struggling very hard to ask this in a normal voice -- did he detect a tinge of jealousy? "Sarah," he answered nonchalantly. "She works at the ranch. That's not a little bit of jealousy I hear in your voice, is it?"
       "Of course not," Maggie retorted.
       Her chin had come up with more than a little defiance in its tilt, and he winced. "Of course not," Ben mimicked. "Let me see." He came closer and clasped her chin. "Humm, I see a mild case of green tinge around the eyes ... and ... oh yes, there's some around the mouth too."
       When her mouth opened to retaliate, it was too tempting to pass up, and kissing her had been the main thought on his mind since she'd walked down the hall to him. Ben explored her lips as he gently pushed her back on the blanket and came down beside her. A minute later he let up enough to realize she had managed to keep her goblet straight in her hand or both of them would have ended up doused. He doubted that he would have felt it; the first taste of her had blurred out everything else.
       He pulled back and looked with satisfaction at the rose pink in her cheeks. The whole idea was for him to keep this an informative but uncomplicated outing. It just wasn't going to be that simple.
       "What happened to your parents, Maggie?" He brushed a stray hairfrom her cheek. Once she had told him that she had no family, but he wanted to learn about her and absorb anything she would share with him. The slightly dreamy expression on her face faded to confusion, then slid to thoughtful as she recognized the fast-paced change he'd pulled on her.
       "My Mother died when I was a small child, and my father five years ago." Maggie struggled back to her cross-legged sitting position and accepted the sandwich he held out in front of her. "My father was a geologist, and since he traveled most of the time, I lived the greater part of my youth with my elderly aunt and uncle. They've been gone a long time."
       He noticed her back stiffen slightly and realized she was telling him something she didn't feel able to discuss easily. Recalling the death of his own parents was painful, but he'd been fortunate enough to experience their love as a child.
       "My aunt and uncle did their best for me, but, since they never had any kids of their own, they didn't have experience in raising a child," Maggie went on. "Sometimes I wished so hard my mother had lived it would make me ill. That sounds pretty silly doesn't it?"
       "Sound silly," he echoed thoughtfully. "No, it doesn't sound silly." He could visualize a little girl, lonely and needing the comfort of a mother. "I believe all children need the touching only mothers can give. If deprived of her, they suffer a loss and space in life impossible to satisfy. It happens, and people learn to live with it, but the empty space is still there. How about brothers and sisters?"
       Maggie took a slow sip of her milk, shaking her head. "No. How about you? What's your family like?" It seemed she'd waited forever for this kind of conversation with him.
       Ben polished off his champagne and leaned back with one arm under his head. "My folks died in an accident four years ago while on a business trip to Tucson. Eight years ago, my father traded doctoring for ranching, and my mother was the queen of motherhood." Ben chuckled, remembering his bright-eyed mother's shrewdness. He could visualize her handling the Vega family and Nick in the same manner Maggie had. "There wasn't anything you could pull on my mom, and she understood every problem. I have one sister, Karen, who is twenty-seven and married with two kids, a boy and a girl. I also have two brothers, both younger than myself. Cooper lives in southern Arizona with his wife and three children. Baby brother Roger is in the Air Force. He says he's going to be a General someday." Ben laughed heartily as he sat up. "When you meet him, you'll understand why I'm laughing. You'll love him, Maggie."
       His voice was warm with feeling, and he was doing strange things to her by talking as though she would be around here forever. She couldn't deny how inviting the prospect was.
       Maggie surveyed her surroundings, noticing that the maple trees had the beginnings of fall in their leaves, and the park was so quiet and so green it was restful. "Have you lived here all your life, Ben?"
       "Well, I've had my travels, but yes, I've spent most of my life here. The family's been on this ground since about six grandfathers ago. They came and fought for the land. After the fighting stopped, they built a cattle ranch which managed to survive good and bad management." Ben finished his salad and poured himself more champagne.
       "What's the occasion for you to have the lovely champagne, and for me to have this?" Maggie wrinkled her nose, holding her glass up in a salute.
       "Why, we're celebrating your escape from the four walls that are driving you crazy, of course. Around here, any excuse for a picnic is a good one."
       Ben voice was deep and potent, and the sound caressed and tingled over her skin. Maggie rolled over onto her back, and chuckled. "Thank you."
       "Oh, sweetheart, it's a real pleasure," he said huskily, moving closer.
       She welcomed his lips when he touched them to hers. His warmth and strength surrounded her. The only vital thing remaining in her mind was touching him. Maggie trailed her fingers on his chest, then she switched to unbuttoning his shirt until she was slipping them inside and settling them against his heart. When her hand reached its destination, she realized his heart was pounding in the same fast-paced tempo as her own. Through the coarse texture of the hair on his chest, heat radiated from his body into her palm.
       When he moved back, Maggie moaned his name in objection to the space now between them which would force her mind to function. She didn't want to reason or judge anything, she just wanted him to stay close to her, and not have to weigh what would happen the next minute, hour, day, or anything else.
       "I'm not going anywhere," he murmured. Barely touching her, he ran the tip of his tongue across her bottom lip and launched a gentle, languid assault. His control was wavering to the impossible as he slid his hand under the oversize shirt and explored her satiny skin. The hunger building in him was for a relationship that he realized neither of them was ready for.
       He would have to call a halt to this -- stop his desire to taste every inch of her. Just the feel of her probing fingers was wreaking havoc on his ability to reason clearly.
       Her exquisite response to him was turning him inside out. "Oh hell," he groaned, pulling away against his will. Temptation was the urge to take her home and keep her there. He didn't want to push her, but Lord ... how he wanted to explore her physically and mentally. There was no way he could keep his hands off her -- no way. She belonged to him. He'd waited a long time for Maggie Rand, and the way his body felt right now it was already too damn long.
       Maybe she deserved better. Oil and water -- yet, the two of them could make it work; he was certain of it.
       If he allowed himself to be completely honest, and he didn't really want to think about it, he was afraid. Afraid that after realizing what living with a doctor was all about, she would walk, no, sprint out the nearest exit. He'd witnessed the subsequent heartbreak and the devastation such broken relationships left behind. If Maggie came to him, he would never let her go.
       Sue told him this morning that she would be here in four days, and he knew there wouldn't be any question that Maggie would want to return to California with her.
       The expression on Maggie's face looked subdued. "You have to know how much I want you close to me," he murmured, trailing his fingers lightly across her breast.
       "I love you, Maggie." How was he going to get any pleasure from life when she walked away from him?
       Maggie glanced away nervously. "I like having you around, too," she admitted, her cheeks flushing.
       Her fingers traced circles of heat on the side of his face. The vision of her lying in his bed with her auburn hair spread across his pillow, and with a tiny infant nestled in her arms, seemed flawless. In an effort to stop the fervor her exquisite fingers aroused he took her hand in his, kissing her palm. He couldn't withstand any more of this torture. A stream of changing emotions seemed to flicker over Maggie's features. Ben wanted to keep her in his arms; understand her every thought; memorize every expression.
       "You're beautiful," he murmured near her ear. Shaking his head, he eased back, grasping her uninjured hand and pulling her gently to a sitting position. Ben kissed her lightly. "We will have to leave here or I'm going to forget where I have to take you back to, Maggie."
       "I understand," she interrupted, wishing she didn't.
       Ben noted that her flush had deepened, and her eyes appeared to mirror his discontent. He could smell the warm, moist heat of her, and it was driving him crazy. And he knew that pregnancy didn't change desire -- if anything, it was enhancing it.
       His pulling away created flawless misery. Regardless, Maggie wouldn't allow herself to feel disappointment; it was exactly what she wanted him to do -- wasn't it? Yes, yes, of course, she answered herself. What possessed her to behave this way? A hungry, potently vibrant, sensuous male who had grabbed her heart -- that's what.
       And his words -- ? Conscientious words he meant right now, but what about an hour from now? And what if he really meant them? And what if he died because he meant them? The affinity she felt for this man was ripping her heart in half ... pull yourself together.
       Roughly clearing her throat, she said, "Did you know I had a visitor yesterday -- besides Kyle, I mean?" He'd left so quickly after her soggy performance yesterday that she didn't have time to enlighten him about Ken. Maggie kept her eyes glued to his chest. If she allowed herself to look into those velvet eyes again, she would be lost. He slowly buttoned his shirt, and her fingers itched to help him.
       Ben leaned closer and gave her a soft, restrained kiss. "Yes," he said huskily. "Cheryl filled me in last night. Your friend Remley has a hard time taking no for an answer." He straightened his collar. "I want to understand exactly what he thinks he's holding over you, Maggie. You said he threatened to prove you incompetent, but there has to be something at stake pushing him." He took her chin gently in his hand. "I have friends getting closer to the answers all the time."
       How could he have enough knowledge about Ken to discover anything? "I don't even know what it's all about -- how can you possibly know where to start? It took me a long time, but believe me, I don't consider him a friend." Maggie shifted her legs, resting her hand on her knee. "Well, after our last conversation, I think Ken has decided to head back to California. He wasn't happy when I refused to go with him, but I gave him my word I would come back."
       Ben picked up his goblet. "Small treat," he said as he poured her one mouthful of champagne and handed it to her. "My friends are experts in the investigation field. They may have to dig deeply, but if there is anything to Remley's threats, other than his imagination, these friends will uncover it."
       "I can't imagine what they would even begin to look for," she said flatly, "except, perhaps, the Trusts he's in charge of outside of court proceedings." Maggie hesitated, concentrating. "The only solution is for me to get back to California and hire a lawyer."
       Ben touched her hand. "All I ask is for you to give me a few more days. Please, give me a little more time."
       Maggie nodded her head, then sipped at the molecule portion of bubbly drink he'd given her. Thank God he'd consented by his actions to forget what just happened between them. No, that wasn't possible. Neither of them would ever forget.
       She handed the goblet to him, and he placed it in the basket. "Ben, do you suppose we could go back now? I'm feeling very tired." Tired and a heart heavy with anguish -- ; loving him was like placing his neck in a guillotine.
       Nothing on this earth would make me bring injury to him. Just as nothing on this earth but his arms and warmth would assuage the longing which encompassed her whole body.
       "Sure, I'll call Joe to pick up the dogs, and we'll be on our way. Relax here, and I'll call him from the car radio." He pulled himself to his feet and headed for the car.
       Maggie called Shane and Cricket to her and hugged them as they tried to kiss away the tears slipping down her cheeks. The two dogs looked so healthy and loved. He was taking such great care of them -- just like his friendship was strengthening and motivating her into healing.
       Perhaps she could get lucky and Ben's friends would actually ferret out something advantageous and free her. Dreaming Maggie ... you're dreaming.
         * * * *
       Maggie hadn't laughed like this for a long time.
       The conversation on the way back to the hospital was humorous and amicable. While she listened to Ben tell her about the incredibly riotous antics he and his brothers pulled as children, she tried to shake off the sensations blitzing her like fire works on the Fourth of July. Thankfully, they'd steered clear of the emotions that had flared between them in the park.
       For his own good nothing could come of a relationship between them. She didn't have any choice but to discourage him, but right now she didn't want to care. She wanted to enjoy being with him until the time came for her to leave. Listen to his voice and touch him and share ideas with him -- and love him.
       "We were always lucky," he finished, "that Dad had a great sense of humor."
       Maggie laughed. "I bet you were. It sounds like you have a wonderful family. Do you get together very often?" Big families had always completely intrigued her. When she was a child, her best friend Sally lived with five brothers and sisters. She spent so many hours at their house that Sally's parents would always just set another place at the dinner table. Sally's family may have been poor, however, they were the happiest, most loving people Maggie had ever encountered.
       "On every major holiday the family converges on the ranch," he answered, and chuckled. "But it's a big place so there's not much chance of stepping on one another."
       It sounded wonderful. Her friend's family had always been happily stepping on each other. "Well," she said as they pulled up to the hospital parking lot, "it's great when families can have the closeness you describe." It was difficult not to envy him -- she might as well admit that she did. Ahh well, she sighed inwardly, tis life.
       "When I've finished with California and Kenneth Remley, I hope I can find my place and create that kind of companionship with my child."
       Ben switched off the engine and turned to her. "Thank you for today, Maggie." She revealed herself more intimately today than he had hoped for. Her last comment being one he hadn't hoped for.
       Maggie closed her eyes for a moment before she looked at him. "I was about to say the same thing to you. I wanted to especially thank you for the care you're giving Shane and Cricket."
       "No problem," he said, pocketing his keys. "I look forward to their greeting when I get home." He opened the door and glanced at her. "I'd better get you inside for a rest." He climbed out and walked unhurriedly around the car. Inside and back to safety before he changed his mind and took her home. The short time she touched him and pressed her body warmly against him, left only a tempting taste of the wonders they could achieve. Wonders that were snaring him with a fascination he couldn't shake loose. Moreover, he didn't want to shake loose. For the first time in his life a whole new set of emotions blazed so intensely that he wanted not only to explore them, but to cultivate them as well.
       All he had to do was open his eyes to understand that any action from him could lead nowhere. Her voice and expression hadn't lost any of her resigned determination to finish doing what she'd started before ending up here. The most reasonable, and the most painful, thing he could do for Maggie was pull back now, and leave her alone.
         * * * *
       It was over before it began, Maggie thought.
       Ben had switched to a strictly professional attitude about ten seconds after he opened the car door, and Maggie didn't have time to get emotionally prepared for the shaft of pain that pierced her heart.
       Back in her room, Maggie lay staring at the ceiling and remembering Ben's expressions as he uttered the last words to her when he left. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said. It wasn't the words themselves; it was how he said them. The way any doctor would say them -- as barren and unexciting as the desert painting on the wall across from her bed.
       A week ago he had questioned how and why she was here. "Providence" he had said once, but she didn't believe in anything called providence. Divine decree, that she could believe in. But it all came down to meaning the identical same thing. She groaned and turned on her side and wished she could muster the energy to pound on her pillow.
       This was what she wanted, wasn't it? Of course it was. Ben was safer this way. Then, glory, why did she feel so damn rotten about it?
       Why did she have this overwhelmingly empty feeling as though the world no longer held anything for her but blank space? Because she couldn't forget his straightforward friendship, the compassion he readily expressed to others, the young, the old, the in-between -- the taste of his mouth on hers, the sweet sensations his long, knowing fingers sparked as he touched her.
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         *Chapter 18*
       At the same moment, in downtown La Vista, Ken Remley sat back and tried to observe the occupants of the El Coctel Grande's dirty, smoke-filled barroom. The only lights with any size or illumination were behind the bar. The booths each had a small, sombrero-shaped candle setting in the middle. There had been a few stares when he first entered, but now the people ignored him; it was most likely because they couldn't see him any better than he could see them.
       He glanced down at the used clothing he was wearing. His jeans and western shirt seemed appropriate, but he couldn't help making a grimace in distaste. It took a visit to a thrift shop to find clothing worn enough so he could blend in as inconspicuously as possible. He hadn't been able to locate a used pair of boots and hoped no one would notice the shine on the new ones he wore.
       There were two bars in this town. The one down the street was a typical, small-town bar that served as a meeting place for families, comfortable and clean and with a restaurant on one side, but the El Coctel embraced the derelict atmosphere he needed. And it was too damn dark to know how much dirt was really there. He heartily preferred his country club, and, with luck now, he'd be back where he belonged by late Friday night.
       He tapped his fingers on the beer glass in front of him. La Vista didn't have much to offer, but he easily found just what he'd been searching for in the two hobo misfits he'd arranged to meet. If they showed up. They were due to meet him a half hour ago.
       He'd worked as a criminal lawyer long enough to identify exactly the type of people he needed for what he wanted done. Last night he found two of them in a drunken stupor, sitting in the squalor of an alley and only about half conscious. Where the hell were they?
       "You the one that talked to us last night?" a rough, gravelly voice asked, slurring each word.
       Ken glanced up into a dirty, bearded face and struggled to keep his expression bland. The filthy hat in the man's hand looked as if something had tried to eat it.
       The man and the moth-eaten hat shifted slightly, revealing another bearded man, taller, and, if possible, dirtier, standing behind him.
       Ken leaned back a little. "Yeah," he acknowledged, motioning them to sit down and join him. The booth was in the rear of the nearly light-less room and less observable than the others. It accorded Ken at least a fragment of the privacy he had to have. Even the barmaid didn't appear anxious to venture back here. He needed as much seclusion as possible for this conversation; but he understood enough about the streets to realize the wisdom of not being totally alone with these two.
       Man, they smelled bad. He forced his expression not to reveal his distaste and possibly insult them. It had been a while since he'd been in the company of this breed of animal. Their appearance helped remind him why he'd traded the criminal element for the corporate in his practice.
       "Jugger here -- he was more sober than me last night. He says you've got money to offer for a job?" The shorter man's voice was gravelly, and his eyes narrowed to slits as he indicated his friend by poking him in the ribs.
       "Well, that's what he said, Ray," whined Jugger, rubbing his sore ribs as he slid into the booth.
       "You understood right," Ken agreed. He leaned forward, smiling patiently, knowing any display of formality would make these men suspicious of him. He grimaced inwardly, as their offensive stench burned his nostrils. "I have a very important job for you and ... the pay is good. It should be enough money to keep you in wine for a long time." He pulled a pipe from his coat pocket and tapped it nervously on his hand. "Are you familiar with the hospital a few blocks from here?"
       "Sure," Ray replied, scratching under his hat. "Jugger and me, we've been here about three weeks, and we've ended up in there about five times already."
       He snickered and again jabbed his friend. "We thought we'd take a little vacation from the rails and visit an ol' buddy. Beginning to get a little boring though."
       "Dammit, Ray, quit that or I ain't gonna have no ribs left." Jugger's voice was getting louder, and Ken reacted quickly.
       "You guys, are going to have to shut up before you have the whole damned bar interested in this conversation," Ken rasped and shifted his weight. "If you don't keep this private, there won't be any deal -- no job -- no booze."
       The man called Ray whistled at the bar maid, a slight sneer on his craggy face. "Buy us a drink, Boss, and we'll be all ears."
       Ken was half way through explaining his plan, when Jugger held up his hand, waving to halt the conversation.
       "Wait a minute," Jugger growled, pointing a finger at Ken. "Ya want us ta tangle with Doc Karr? Ya must be crazy. We ain't been here long, but long enough ta know better'n ta mess with that tough."
       Ray leaned a little closer to Ken. His sour breath gusting into Ken's face as he puffed out his words. "How much did you say this job paid? It will have to be a hell of a lot for us to go anywhere near what belongs to Doc Karr."
       Ken jerked back; a little surprised at the vehemence with which Ray was snarling his feelings. "I'll give you each two thousand dollars to do the job. If it's done right with no slip ups."
       Ray snickered. "Forget it, Boss, you're not coming close."
       "Ya gotta do better'n that or we'll be seein' ya Mr. -- what'a we call ya, anyway?" Jugger frowned.
       "Johnson, Mr. Johnson will be all you need to know. I can give you three thousand a piece for the job. That's it. I won't go any higher." Ken could feel his hands becoming clammy and sweat beading up on his temples. He already laid out the details of what he wanted done ... if these guys didn't go along ... if they talked....
       Jugger gulped a drink of beer, which trickled into his dirty beard. "Okay, Boss, ya got a deal. If ya give us half now. For this kind'a thing, we gotta have at least half now." Jugger's tone conveyed that he meant what he said. He glanced around as if to make certain no one was near enough to overhear them.
       Ray nodded his head in agreement with his friend's words.
       "All right, but not here," Ken said, filling his pipe. "You'll have to meet me, let's say in an hour, in front of the alley where I found you last night." Ken pulled a slim gold lighter from his pocket. The end result would turn out perfectly. He would no longer have to listen to Maggie's invective tongue, nor would he have to placate her into anything. Most importantly, he wouldn't have to worry about her becoming too smart and nosing around like her stupid husband. He wouldn't have to worry about her showing up with counsel who would talk to his father. Ken smiled as he clamped the pipe in his teeth and flicked the lighter.
       Ray riveted Ken with a cold-blooded gaze. "I'm not so sure you're paying enough though. This job could get a person hung."
       Reaching into his shirt pocket, Ken pulled out five photos. "The number one answer to that is, don't get caught. If all goes well, there might even be a bonus." After he took a long draw on his pipe, he let the blue-gray smoke out and watched it curl slowly upward. If they were successful, he would most definitely feel generous.
       "I have five close-up photos of Maggie here," Ken said, tossing them on the table in front of the men. "She may, or may not have a sling on her left arm. She likes to sit on the bench next to the hospital patio, usually twice a day, once at about noon and again in the evening around seven. I've also observed that she takes short walks from the patio to the rear of the hospital and back. It would be wise for you to go and watch her for yourselves. You have two days, that's enough time. It had damn well better be enough."
       Ken rose from the booth bench. "This has to be done Thursday, exactly two days from now, and I'll meet you at Hacienda Motel in Blythe Friday night with the remainder of your money. Any problem with that?"
       Ray looked up at Ken, a crooked grin on his dirty face. "No problem, Boss, just have us half that money in an hour, and we'll take care of the rest."
       "An hour," Ken agreed. He turned to leave the bar.
       "What you think, Jugger? Sounds like pretty good money for a day's work."
       "Yeah." Jugger answered as he shoved his dirty hat tightly down on his head. "Let's get'a bottle and head over ta the alley. We'll make the rest'a the plans later."
       Ken subdued the anger welling in him as he turned back to them. "Just remember, if you get so drunk you can't do the job, there won't be any money." He didn't wait for an answer; he might explode, and he didn't need to display that in public.
         * * * *
       Thursday afternoon Ben sat in the spacious kitchen of his ranch house, and wished he were stone deaf.
       "This certainly isn't like you," Sarah blurted, placing a cup of coffee in front of him while studying his face. "You just look awful. What are you going to do about it?"
       "Sarah, mind your own bloody damn business," Ben growled. His head ached, and he didn't want to discuss this with Sarah. He'd taken Victoria out dancing last night with every intention of enjoying himself, but the only thing he'd succeeded in doing was drinking on an empty stomach. He'd only had a couple of drinks, but since his body knew only the occasional beer on an all-important football afternoon, his head felt as big as a forty-gallon fish tank, and it was sloshing, letting him know positively just how damned foolish he was. The last time a drink affected him this way, was a million years ago when he celebrated getting out of the service and healing from his wounds.
       Sarah clanged a dish, and he grabbed his temples with both hands to stop the vibration.
       He'd promised to take Vic to the harvest festival two months ago, and since there was no possible way out of it -- other than a broken leg -- he deceived himself into thinking he could use the occasion to restore the life he had before Maggie fell into it. Victoria looked as beautiful as always, and his determination was to relax and enjoy her company.
       Only it hadn't worked out that way.
       Instead, the drinks were strong enough that he was definitely feeling-no-pain. Vic offered to drive him to her place for the night, and he'd heard himself refuse. Wrong woman, wrong place, wrong time, every damned thing was wrong, and the pain had returned.
       He must have said it out loud because Victoria had been so angry she practically dumped him on his lawn at 2:00 a.m.. Now he had to put up with Sarah's accusing eyes.
       Sarah put her hand on her hip. "You, young man, had better watch who you're swearing at. You know you're in love with the little lady in the hospital. Why are you punishing yourself with that jet-lag creature next door? And drunk! Why -- I've never seen you in such a state. Just what would your poor mother think if she could have seen you?"
       "That is enough, Sarah." Ben shifted to his feet. "I don't think my behavior is any of your damn business." Had his feelings for Maggie been so blatantly obvious? "And I wasn't drunk." Well, maybe close, but the whole evening he knew where he was, knew who he was with, knew where he'd rather be. And his haggard appearance didn't come from having a few drinks or being out late. His wakeful, dream-filled night, added to the family-verses-medical devotion tug-of-war in his mind, was what brought about the dark lines under his eyes.
       He realized too late that his growl hadn't diminished when he spoke, and Sarah squared around on him. "Say what you will, Doctor, but you had better go in there," she pointed toward his bedroom, "and look in the mirror. You've been barking at people for two days now. And then come dragging in, looking as if you are the one who needs a doctor." She threw up her hands in a gesture of defeat, dumped dishes into the sink, and flipped on the hot water.
       Ben came up behind Sarah, twined his arms around her waist, and gently kissed her cheek. Knowing how right she was he softened his tone. "Okay, Sarah, I'm sorry for taking my feelings out on you." He felt guilty that she had to scream at him for him to realize what she was putting up with.
       But, Lord, how he wished she'd stop banging the damned dishes.
       Stepping back, he brushed both his hands through his hair. "I just seem to be at a dead-end with Maggie, and the frustration is getting the better of me." He might as well admit that his true problem was second-guessing the future in his anxiety about whether or not he could succeed at marriage and still devote himself to medicine. A risk he'd always avoided. A risk he wanted to take with Maggie.
       Sarah turned and looked at him with compassion. "Just slow up, Ben, and be yourself. She'll come around if you are serious and don't scare her to death. And if she doesn't, you'll have to accept it even if it hurts."
       Oh, yes, hurting was exactly what Ben was doing. Sarah didn't understand that dealing with Maggie wasn't the predominant problem that ate at him; it was his own inability to be resolute about his love for her, then let them discover the future together instead of working up a prognosis on it.
       "Thank you, Sarah, for saying how you feel. I'll try harder not to vent my frustrations on you -- I don't think I can declare any promises."
       Sarah smiled at him. "I have known you since you were five years old, and I don't expect any promises. Go grab a little sleep or your patients won't recognize you.
       "By the way," she said, wiping her hands on a towel. "I'm not the only one you've been growling at. I think there are a couple of nurses, who, if they don't get some flowers or a box of candy in a hurry, may quit their jobs. I don't think your patients will be happy people if that happens."
       "You're probably right, Sarah, so I'll arrange something in the morning." He turned to leave the kitchen, determined to get away from her and the racket his vibrating head proclaimed she was making. "Don't let me sleep for more than an hour. I'm swamped with paperwork, and I intend to do late rounds this evening since I didn't make it this morning. I'm also expecting an important phone call from Neil tonight."
       "An hour," she affirmed, as he retreated from the kitchen.
       Ben heaved himself down on his bed and eyed the empty pillow next to him. This morning when he awoke still tired, groggy, blurry-eyed, Ben envisioned Maggie lying cuddled and naked against him. When he reached out to touch her, she vanished like dissipating smoke. It wasn't the first time she appeared to him in such a manner, but this morning she looked so tangible, he almost believed his sweetest fantasy had come true.
       Groaning, Ben turned over and shoved his face in his pillow. When he called in this morning, James read him the riot act for being, what was it he said? -- an asinine nincompoop; James wasn't one for mincing words, especially when he would get stuck with extra hours he didn't deserve. Victoria had called James, giving him an earful of what she thought were Ben's behavioral problems. He could just about hear what she had to say. His ears burned just thinking about it.
       A long, drawn-out whine vibrated near his ear. Ben pulled his head out of his pillow to look for the cause. Shane supplied him with a wet kiss from chin to forehead, and Cricket had her paws on the bed staring at him.
       "Okay, you two, get up here. I could use some sympathetic company," he moaned, digging his face back into the pillow. He had to get a little sleep; he had to eradicate the damned gremlin that was pounding inside his head with a sledgehammer.
         * * * *
       She wouldn't be able to stand this much longer. Maggie sat in her hospital pajamas, staring out the window of her room and watching the hues of pink developing in the evening sky. For two days, ever since Ben quietly left her after their picnic, she had this feeling of being encompassed in a vacuum. He came to see her yesterday morning with James, evaluated her condition from a surgical point of view, said a couple of professional words, and left.
       He didn't come this morning, and Cheryl said he called in sick. The image of him lying sick in bed made her desire to be with him twice as difficult to control. When James showed up to visit her today, he hadn't mentioned Ben at all. Maggie tried to wiggle his name into their conversation, but James managed to whip right around it.
       Pumping Cheryl hadn't worked either; Cheryl was every bit as closed mouthed as James. Cheryl, poor Cheryl. Maggie suddenly realized what she'd been doing to Cheryl. Maggie smiled to herself as she remembered the nurse's surprised expressions. Maggie owed her new friend an apology, probably several, for taking her confusion and frustration out on Cheryl several times in the past twenty-four hours. First thing tomorrow, Maggie would make certain Cheryl received an earned explanation.
       She sighed, squirmed around in her chair, and groaned. Why did she have to miss Ben so very much?
       Just say it and get it over with. "I love him." She shook her head and ran a hand across her eyes. The whole idea was crazy. But she loved him, and it was ridiculous to pretend otherwise.
       Dammit, Maggie Rand, why can't you listen? She was here. He was here. And she wanted to be with him, for a minute, for an hour, forever, for whatever he would allow. The urge to explain her feelings to him gripped her as solidly as the earth held the roots of a mighty oak tree.
       She'd driven almost straight to him like a homing pigeon and picked his land to stay on when a whole chunk of the northern hemisphere was at her disposal. It was conceivable that he might reject her for a lifetime commitment, but maybe he would love her for a little while -- 
       Now what?
       Tell him, that's what. Tell him before it's too late.
       The way he was behaving might be his way of saying that it was already too late. Yesterday there had been nothing in his eyes that revealed he felt anything for her. He had avoided touching her for any reason.
       "A walk ... that's what I need," she decided as she stood up and headed for the closet. She needed a walk and the fresh air and anything that would help her think this out.
       How to approach Ben, and just how she would communicate her love for him. How to tell him about the dread she had of something happening to him. A jinx her aching heart desperately never wanted to believe. But she couldn't help it.
       For a moment Maggie visualized Ben's dark features. She wanted to see the aroused desire in his black eyes that awakened all her senses and sent them blazing skyward.
       Ben had given her the gift of his friendship. But it was more than that -- why hadn't she paid attention to what he was telling her? It was in every touch he gave her, every caressing and compassionate glance, every spoken word. How could she have been so deaf and blind? She wondered if all those delicious emotions would still be there the next time she saw him. There would only be one way to learn the answer.
       With buying chocolate for her sweet-tooth in mind, she grabbed some coins from her purse, opened the closet to search for her shoes, then decided to just leave her slippers on. Cheryl said she would bring her more clothes from the trailer tomorrow and had brought her purse and a fuzzy, rose-colored robe to wear until then. It looked warm out; the robe would be enough for a short walk. She would go halfway around the building, then just sit and relax on the patio and decide what she should do.
       After kicking the vending machine, forcing it to pay up, she pocketed her candy bar and pushed open the exit door. Carole was sitting on a cushioned bench eating a sandwich. "Hello," Maggie greeted her. "How are all those beautiful babies and little Nick?"
       "Everything is fine in nursery land," Carole said, grinning. "It looks as if you're progressing really well."
       Maggie nodded. "It won't be much longer and I'll be able to take on the whole world. It feels as though I've been here a year already. And when I get released from this sling, it will be like having prison bars removed."
       Carole laughed. "I had my arm in a cast once, a long time ago, but I can still remember feeling the same way."
       Carole folded up her sandwich paper and picked up her coffee cup. "It's about time for me to go and change some diapers, but I want to stop by your room before I go home and let you know what has developed for Nick." Carole's eyes were dancing; that had to be a good sign.
       "Great. I'll be waiting," Maggie answered, as she continued down the walk. She shivered. It wasn't quite as warm as she had thought it was, and the smell of fall permeated the evening air.
       Maggie glanced back toward the patio. Carole was still there, finishing the last of her coffee.
         * * * *
       Hunched down in his rental car, Ken peered through the crack in the door as he watched and listened to the two drunken idiots who stood beside the rust-decayed pickup truck. He wanted to be positive they succeeded in their mission before he left town. From the appearance of their truck, he wouldn't have any problem getting miles ahead of them.
       "Ouch! Dammit, Ray, watch what yer doin'. Ya dropped that damned wrench on my foot," Jugger whined.
       "Shut up, and act busy. That woman should be coming out on the patio any minute. It's almost seven, and if we miss this chance to grab her, we don't get paid. It's too damn bad we were getting drunk instead of watching her like that Johnson said. Now we got to rely on them photos." Ray adjusted the hood of the truck in an upright position. "I'm gonna get a blanket from the back of the truck. We'll pretend to use it to keep from getting greasy. When we've nabbed her, we'll use it to throw over her."
       "Sounds okay ta me. I can hardly wait ta see if this is gonna work. Ain't this fun, Ray?" Jugger rocked from heel to toe in his excitement.
       Ray returned to the front of the truck. "What did you say? I couldn't hear you."
       "Never mind, ain't that her comin' down the sidewalk?"
       Ray pulled out the photos from his pocket. "Yeah, I saw her a second ago. That's her all right. But -- galdammit, look at this. Her face may match, but her body sure as hell doesn't. We don't have time to discuss it. Get ready. I'll talk to her." Ray walked away from the truck toward Maggie.
       Jugger shifted to banging something in the engine with a hammer, leaning in under the hood as far as he could.
       "Hey, Lady, do you think you could help us for a minute?"
       Maggie stopped on the walk and looked at the dirty man coming toward her. "I -- I don't know. What could I possibly help you with?" She eyed the truck judiciously and returned her gaze to the man. "I don't know a thing about engines." Her expression remained totally puzzled until Ray was two steps away, then her nose wrinkled in reaction.
       Ken nearly choked while restraining the chuckle pushing at his throat. Ray and Jugger were the worst smelling men he'd ever met. Obviously, Maggie agreed with him about something.
       "Oh, you don't have to do much. We just need someone to hold a flashlight. We've got two wires to put together, and we can't do it and hold the flashlight at the same time." He waved the flashlight in front of her.
       "Well -- all right, but just for a minute," Maggie said, stepping from the sidewalk.
       "Just come over here. I'll show you what I want you to aim at. Jugger and me, we'll have it fixed real quick."
       She wandered close to the hood of the truck, and Ray showed her where he wanted her to stand. "Will this do?" she asked as he backed away. She looked in at the engine, and her questioning expression turned suspicious.
       "It will do just fine." Ray's arm wrapped around her shoulders, and he clamped a rag snugly on her face.
       She took a deep breath to scream.
       Ahh, Ken thought, that was your second mistake, Maggie. The first was being suckered into helping a couple of sleezeballs.
       Maggie tried to struggle, but the grip Ray had on her was solid. Jugger moved in to assist him as Maggie went limp against Ray.
       "Put that blanket over her, Jugger, I'll hold her up. She don't weigh much, it should be easy. Watch it! You're not suppose to put it over me, you idiot, just the lady."
       "Now what, Ray?"
       "You grab her feet, and we'll put her on the floor behind the seats."
       Bending over, Jugger grabbed her ankles, then straightened while lifting her legs. He slipped and almost fell.
       Ray's voice was a low grumble. "Dammit, can't you do anything without botching it up?"
       "Ahh, ca'mon, Ray, lighten up. Good thing this ol' truck has space back there or we'd be sittin' on'er." Jugger was puffing for breath. "You said she was gonna be easy cause she was so small. That Johnson never said she was carryin' a child. We ought'a get more money for this."
       "Hurry up. I seen her talking to a nurse just before she came down that walk, and I want to get out of here." Ray was breathing hard, too, as they put her down. "Come on -- let's go," he rasped, climbing into the driver's seat.
       Jugger had a wide grin on his face. "Damn, Ray, I think we done it."
       "We've just started," Ray said, slamming his foot on the gas and spinning the tires as they roared out of the parking lot.
       Ken watched the nurse on the patio rise from the bench and push something into a trash receptacle. She was watching the pickup as it headed away from the hospital.
       That nurse hadn't witnessed anything; if she had, she would have been screaming her head off by now.
       He waited until she walked away before he sat up and switched on the engine.
--------
         *Chapter 19*
       "Hey, Jugger, not that it'll matter any in the end, but do you suppose you used too much chloroform? There ain't been one movement from under that blanket, and we've been driving more than an hour."
       "Nah, I was real careful when I dipped the rag, Ray. We'll stop here pretty soon and check."
       Ray reached over and snatched the wine bottle from Jugger. "It's my turn. You've been hogging the stuff."
       Maggie hadn't the slightest inkling how long she'd been unconscious, but she wasn't about to move. She'd been prudently watching and listening to her two captors battling over the bottle for a while now. They weren't providing her with enough information to understand the seriousness of her predicament. Their conversation consistently stayed on their bottle and their desire to sleep. She wanted to know what the hell they planned to do with her; not to mention why they grabbed her in the first place. What on earth could they want with her? Would they kill her? People who did things like this, were usually terribly desperate and didn't want to leave any witnesses.
       She could see them through a small hole in the worn wool blanket, but the smell of the filthy thing felt as if it scorched her nose while her stomach performed a pirouette. She wouldn't be able to withstand it much longer.
       Ray yawned. "I sure wish we didn't have so damn far to go to do this. We should have made Johnson meet us some place closer, too."
       Johnson? Who the heck was Johnson? And, 'do this' what?
       Jugger shrugged his shoulders. "We're gonna pull off for a nap when it gets dark. If we ain't there exactly on time, it'll be tough. He'll wait. He sure wants this lit'le lady done with bad," Jugger said, glancing at the lump of blanket. "Johnson'll pay, cause we're gonna prove we done the job with her. He'll hand over the reward. I'm gonna call it a reward, cause we sure as hell earned one."
       Pay for the job? Who for Pete's sake? There had to be some horrible mistake.
       This was the ending, finis, finale, before a new beginning even had a chance. She would never see Ben again; never be able to declare her feelings; never again feel the tenderness of his strong hands or see the luminous blackness of his eyes.
       Get a hold of yourself, Maggie told herself roughly. They don't look dangerous. They might smell horrible, but they don't look like killers.
       Ray laughed, taking a swig from the bottle. "It's just about your turn to drive." Maggie saw a sign whiz past the window. They'd reached a small town, and he swung the truck off the road onto the dirt. "Check on her while I get us a snack from that station across the street. Make sure you don't let her sit up until I'm back and we get down the road."
       "Right," Jugger answered. "We only got about fifteen minutes'a daylight left. I could sure use that nap."
       Jugger turned around and yanked back the heavy cover on Maggie. The sudden movement made Maggie flinch involuntarily. "Well, well, lit'le lady, so yer all right after all. Ya sure been quiet back there."
       Now that he knew she was awake, Maggie could barely control the panic which washed over her.
       "Now, now, ya don't have ta go and look like that. We got no intention'a touchin' ya ... long as ya behave yerself."
       "D -- Do you suppose I could have a drink of water?" Maggie rasped, her dry throat feeling shriveled. Glory, was she ever glad he removed that blanket. About one more minute and she would have died from asphyxiation.
       "Why sure. Maybe ya'd like ta have a nip'a my bottle?" Jugger wiggled the paper bag that held the wine bottle in the air.
       Maggie shook her head and prayed he had some water. She wanted to ask several questions, but she could barely talk. It would depend on the answers whether or not she should give in to her panic at this situation. Except for the fact that they could have killed her with the chloroform, they had to be the most unlikely looking set of kidnappers the world had ever known.
       Jugger's arm came over the seat with a dirty, red thermo cup filled with water clutched in his hand, and Maggie grabbed at it. She gulped it down so fast that drops of liquid overflowed and ran down her chin.
       "I guess ya was pretty thirsty, huh? Kinda hot back there under the cover I suppose." The man's olfactory nerve had to be dead. The heat was bearable. The stench was not.
       Ray returned and opened the door. It provided Maggie with such a sweet surge of cool air that she breathed in deeply. "See you're awake. Now you just stay down like a good girl till we get on the road." After Ray sat down and slammed the door shut, he turned and tossed a chocolate bar on her lap, reminding her of the candy still nestled in her robe pocket.
       "She was guzzlin' some water. Didn't want none'a my wine." Jugger snickered. "She just don't know what's good for'er that's all."
       Maggie felt the tires spin as Ray yanked the wheel and sent the truck back onto the road. "You ... ah ... you wouldn't like to tell me just why I've been chloroformed and stuck back here -- would you?"
       Ray laughed sarcastically. "Sure. You've been kidnapped."
       Jugger joined in, his laughter sounding like a whining child. "Why don't ya tell'er more, Ray?"
       "I'll wait till she asks, dummy." Ray grumbled, and whacked Jugger in the arm.
       "Dammit, Ray, yer always hittin' on me."
       "Well," Maggie began, "I'm a poor person, no money, and I don't have a relative in the world. So, I'm having a little trouble figuring out why me -- unless maybe you took the wrong person?"
       "Oh, ya ain't the wrong person," Jugger clarified seriously. He shoved his fingers into the ripped pocket of his shirt, then tossed some photographs on her lap.
       Maggie picked them up and stared at them. Glory to heaven, the only place they could have gotten these was from Ken. She remembered him clicking away with his camera at the last convention she attended with Josh.
       She gave Jugger the hardest look she could produce. "Where did you get these?"
       Ray chuckled. "I see you recognize them with no problem. Go ahead, Jugger, tell her where we got them."
       "From Mr. Johnson. I guess he wants shuck'a ya mighty bad for somethin'. He didn't bother ta tell us what for." He handed her another drink from the grungy cup.
       Shuck of her? Maggie accepted the drink and sat back against the filthy cab as she glanced around. The floor was greasy, and Cheryl's pretty robe was black from lying in it.
       Almost absently, she unwrapped a portion of the candy bar. She might as well eat the thing; it could possibly be the only food they would give to her, and it looked as if she would require all the energy she could generate. There had to be some way of escaping this mess, and she would need to be alert to every mistake these two jug-heads made.
       The only person "Mr. Johnson" could possibly be, was Ken. She shivered; the Arctic chill that his name, or his presence, brought on, surrounded her. He hadn't been happy that she refused to travel with him, but she'd told him she was going back to California. Why would he be so desperate that he would hire these characters to kidnap her?
       Ten minutes later the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, and it was so dark in the truck she could hardly distinguish the cup in her hand. But she had watched the sun. They had traveled west, then north, then west again. What the hell was she going to do?
       Maybe these men were delivering her to him. Maybe they were taking her back to California. How did Ken think he would actually get away with something as ludicrous as this? Could he somehow be foolish enough to believe she wouldn't scream to the first cop she could find?
       Ken was a dangerous man. He would never put himself in a position to go to jail, and kidnapping was serious stuff. Would he threaten to dispose of her if she told anyone? Glory. Tell anyone -- that was a laugh. The entire staff of the hospital would wonder where she disappeared to -- unless he somehow figured out a way to cover that little detail. Then it hit her. Looks could be deceiving and the cover didn't reveal the contents of the book. How could she be so slow? There wouldn't be any cop to scream at; there wouldn't be anyone to tell. These men planned to make certain she wasn't around anymore to do either.
         * * * *
       Ben yawned as he walked toward the nursing station. His head may have stopped pounding, but the mirror said he supported bags under his eyes the size of lunch sacks. Cheryl looked up as he approached, and her brows came together in a dour frown. "Okay. What's going on? When you look like that something's not going properly on the planet earth," Ben said, keeping his voice serious. He didn't even consider acting lighthearted; when Cheryl scowled like that, you talked with considerable care whether you were the boss or not.
       "I found a note in Maggie's room, Ben. She has left the hospital." Cheryl withdrew a folded piece of yellow legal-sized paper from her pocket, and shoved it toward Ben.
       His heart pounded hard against his chest. After opening the paper quickly, he read the contents out loud. "I'm sorry to leave with such short notice, but I have important business that must be taken care of immediately. Thank you for the special care. Maggie Rand." That was it.
       James approached the desk as Ben read the note, and looked over Ben's shoulder. "That's not Maggie's signature, Ben."
       "What the bloody hell do you mean that's not her signature?" Ben blared, his temper and nervous system shifting into high.
       "Simple. She signed some paperwork for me a few days ago, and that is not Maggie's signature," James repeated, a worried frown pulled his brows together. "Who would leave something like that in Maggie's room?"
       Cheryl moved closer to the counter. "But all her things are gone. I mean, what little she had in the room is gone, except for this," she pulled the photo of Josh and the boys out from under the counter, "and this." Cheryl handed Ben the stuffed mouse he'd given Maggie.
       "Something not very pleasant is happening here. We all know Maggie would never leave without that photo," Ben said huskily as an equally unpleasant shiver ran through him. She wouldn't leave without her dogs either; he had a big idea as to what could be going-down, and it scared hell out of him. Neil had called him earlier. And from all the information he'd gathered, Mr. Remley could just be desperate enough to do something to Maggie.
       "Okay," Ben said. "We split-up and ask every staff member if they've seen her, and if they have, bring them back here to the desk. We need to get to the bottom of this quickly."
       James and Cheryl nodded.
       Fifteen minutes later Ben watched as Cheryl walked quickly up the corridor with Carole in tow.
       "Carole saw Maggie taking her usual walk at about seven this evening," Cheryl said excitedly.
       "What did you see, Carole? Please, try to remember every little detail." Ben asked quietly, keeping his emotions in check. If he upset her, she might not remember anything.
       "Maggie came out for her walk, and we talked for about two minutes. Then she walked on toward the parking lot. She was wearing a rose-colored robe and slippers, Ben. Certainly not dressed for leaving the hospital, and she wasn't carrying anything. She also told me she would be waiting to see me later because I planned to stop and visit her before I left for home this evening."
       "Did you see anything out of the ordinary anywhere around?" Ben prompted. The fear in his heart wouldn't go away.
       "Just a couple of dirty men working on a truck. Come to think of it, one of them did speak to Maggie. I don't know what he said because they were too far away, but he was swinging a flashlight in his hand. I didn't pay anymore attention until the truck pulled out, and only then because it was spinning its wheels and throwing dirt all over the place." Carole looked thoughtful. "I can describe the truck a little. I'm sorry, Ben, I just wasn't paying that much attention."
       "That's okay, Carole, just give us the best description you can, then we'll call the sheriff with what we have."
       "It was really ramshackled, but it wasn't that old because it had a club-cab type of style. Anyway, the front door on the right side was green, and the rest of the truck was a dirty, pale yellow with gray patches here and there."
       "How about the men? Can you remember anything about the men?" James asked, reaching for paper and pencil under the counter.
       "I only saw the one who spoke to Maggie. The other one had most of his body under the hood of the truck." Carole lifted a hand to her forehead nervously. "He was wearing a mangy brown hat. He was skinny, wore a beard, and looked like a bum. That's all I can remember." Carole looked at Ben. "Is Maggie in any danger, Ben?"
       "The possibilities are something I don't even care to think about." He put his arm around her shoulders. "But we are going to find her and have the danger removed -- permanently."
       Carole turned to leave. "You'll tell us when you find her?"
       "I'll let everyone know when we find her."
       Carole nodded and headed back down the hall as Cheryl grabbed her stethoscope from the desk and looped it around her neck. "We'll be waiting to hear." She swept down the hall after Carole.
       Ben nudged James. "He sounds like one of the two wine guzzlers we've had in the emergency room." The two were difficult to forget; their rank smell had stayed in emergency for hours after their visits.
       "Yeah, you're right," James agreed. "I'll get on the phone to the sheriff and give him what information we have."
       "Good," Ben said firmly. "I'm going to call the ranches with helicopters. Then I'll check with you and head for mine. I want to get up in the air as soon as possible. We can only guess she's been gone since seven." Ben checked his watch. "It's a little after ten. We'd better find her, and she'd better be all right," he growled under his breath.
       "James, be sure you make the sheriff understand that they would probably be heading in the direction of California. That's where Remley wanted her to be." Remley needed Maggie to be in California -- unless he'd decided he didn't require her at all. "I'd like nothing better than to have the sonofabitch in my hands right now -- "
       James grabbed Ben's shoulder. "Take it easy, Ben. Save the wrath for later, especially if you're going searching in that windmill of yours," he warned.
       Ben let out a deep breath, striving to control the intensity of his anger. "Yeah, you're right. Let's get moving." Ben entered his office, walked quickly to the phone, and snatched up the receiver.
         * * * *
       Every bone in her body ached. Maggie tried to adjust her position, but the floor was hard, she felt every bump the truck hit, and her stomach whirled like an electric mixer.
       "Hey, Ray, let's pull off for a while. I gotta have a nap cause I can't keep my eyes open," Jugger sniveled loudly. He took another swig from the bottle in the sack. "Ya promised ta stop mor'en an hour ago."
       His voice was so slurred, Maggie wondered if his partner, who acted equally drunk, understood him. She hoped so; her revolving stomach had just about had it.
       "Sure, good bud," Ray mumbled and yanked the steering wheel so hard the truck leaned heavily and bounced off the road onto the rough ground.
       "Dammit, Ray, ya almost spilled my stuff." Jugger tipped the bottle again as the truck jerked and skipped away from the road.
       After a few minutes, Maggie was ready to scream and did. "If you don't want to deliver a baby on top of kidnapping, you'd better stop this damn truck," Maggie hollered, hoping to get through their drunken fog.
       "Do ya hear that, Ray? We ought ta be far enough inta nowhere ta stop and sleep."
       Ray slammed on the brakes, bringing the truck to a jerking halt, knocking Jugger against the side window and Maggie against the solid surface of the cab.
       "If I had the strength, ya bastard, I'd fightcha," Jugger moaned, shoving himself back onto the seat.
       Maggie straightened up and leaned back. She rubbed her forehead, feeling something warm, wet and sticky against her fingers.
       "Les tie up the lady, Jugger, so's we can sleep," Ray slurred.
       Jugger opened the door and fell out. He staggered to his feet and wobbled toward the rear of the truck. When he returned, he had a length of rope in his hand.
       "Should we make her sleep outside, or lay her on the front seat?" Ray moaned, holding his head with both hands.
       "Ah, let'er have the truck. We got'a couple'a blankets in the back I forgot about. We can use'em. Ca'mon, Ray, ya gotta help with this. I can't see good enough ta tie'er up."
       Ray helped Maggie climb from behind the front seat. She was so sore tears washed into her eyes. Maggie had to sit adjacent to the door and wait while Ray stared at her robe, covering the sling, for a minute. Maggie was aware of his dilemma and hoped he wouldn't come up with a solution.
       Unfortunately, he did.
       Although he didn't forceher arm around to the point of discomfort or pain, he did incapacitate it. He tied her right arm behind her back, securing the rope around her waist and knotting it on her right side. When he finished with her arm, he secured her ankles, made her wiggle over toward the middle of the front seat and slammed the door.
       "Now you just stay put like a good girl," he slurred.
       Maggie, however, had no intentions of staying put. With mutiny filling her heart, she pushed and kicked, fiercely attempting to loosen the rope.
       Glory, it's working. His hands must have been unsteady from too much wine, and he did a lousy job of tying her ankles together; her hand was another matter.
       They'd left the headlights on, and Maggie could see them staggering around while trying to put blankets, with huge holes in them, on the ground.
       The drunken kidnappers didn't go to sleep immediately, but they seemed to have forgotten she existed. Shuffling and kicking, she worked at the rope on her ankles. She desperately needed her hands.
       After a few minutes, the rope slithered from her feet and dropped onto the trucks' floor. She had to strangle back the whoop of joy that bubbled in her throat.
       She peered outside to locate the men. They were finally under their blankets, and she heard nothing but silence.
       Silence -- except for the endless noise of the many-legged creatures who walked at night, not one of which she had any desire to meet up with. Goose bumps sprang up on her arms at the thought.
       And it didn't help that her slippers were still laying on the floor behind the front seats. That meant, if she managed to get out of this truck she faced walking barefoot in the Arizona wilderness.
       Fortitude, Rand, you have got to get out of here.
       She leaned on her side and placed her toes on the door handle. Shoving down with her foot, she felt the door give way and pushed gently with her other foot. It opened easily enough, but it also squeaked loudly enough to rouse the dead, and she held her breath.
       Maggie peered out the window, grappling with the urge to vault out of the truck and run. When the two lumps under the blankets didn't move, she exhaled the breath long and slow and quiet. If the noisy door didn't wake them, maybe nothing would.
       She scooted toward the door until her bottom reached the edge of the seat, then she slid forward until her toes reached the ground.
       Her knees wavered, and she wanted nothing better than to scream and cry and give in to panic and run like hell.
       Maggie spotted the jug containing water by the gas pedal. She needed that jug -- supposing she actually pulled this off. Slowly, she backed up to grasp it with her tied hand. It was slippery but she brought the container up and shoved it onto the seat. Then, after several jostles and pushes, she managed to wedge it between her elbow and body. She wondered what ever possessed the company to remove the handles from the darned things. New and modern meant sleek and inconvenient; completely unfair, especially when you were bound-up like an expensive cut of roast beef.
       Maggie edged forward and peered around the front of the truck. The lumps weren't moving, and the sounds of deep, grumbling snores reached her ears.
       Since the headlights were still on, they wouldn't be going anywhere in the morning because the battery would be as dead as the rock she had just stubbed her toe on.
       Okay, Rand, get your buns out of here. She headed for the back of the truck and stopped and listened. Still no sounds of awakening came from her captors.
       She stared in front of her.
       Oh, glory. It was so dark she couldn't see a blasted thing.
       She looked up toward the blackened sky. If there was a moon up there, a cloud cover was taking nice care of it. Her feet were sore already, and she hadn't gone ten feet yet.
       Gritting her teeth, and determined to ignore the terror that lurked in her mind, Maggie moved forward into the pitch-blackness that looked empty -- but she knew damn good and well it wasn't.
         * * * *
       Ray moved his blanket back. "Do you suppose that was her?" Ray slurred, trying to concentrate.
       "Ya," Jugger moaned.
       "We should get out of here, but I can't get up."
       Jugger yawned. "Me ne'ther, but it won't hurt nothin' if we sleep fer a while. She'll get lost and die and we'll get paid."
       "Worked perfectly," Ray drawled, pulling the blanket tightly around him. It had taken extra time traveling on back roads into wilderness country, but this way, they hadn't shot her or nothin', and they hadn't forced her to run away. It was basic; she would never find her way out of this country. "She'll never know we made escape easy for her."
       He just needed a nap, then they would pull out. After all, he reasoned, they hadn't personally harmed a hair on the lady's head or pushed her out of the truck, so the money wasn't really blood money, and it would keep them comfortable for a long while. They might even find a place that had a real bed. Might even buy a real bottle of wine -- something French.
--------
         *Chapter 20*
       "Ben, you need to sit down. You're making me a nervous wreck," Sarah complained. "And you're not going to make the phone ring any faster by traipsing back and forth."
       "I know, Sarah, but I've got to keep moving. If the sheriff hasn't called in the next ten minutes, I'm out of here." Ben pushed his hands through his hair. She was right; pacing wasn't helping. He sat down beside Sarah at the kitchen table. Every time he thought about what could be happening to Maggie, he had to fight the rage that threatened to overcome his mind and body.
       Sarah reached out and patted Ben's hand. "She'll be all right, Ben. The Lord will take care of her. He's done it before, and He'll do it again."
       "I know you have to be right, Sarah. Otherwise, I would probably have to hunt down a man I know and murder him," Ben said heatedly. Kenneth Remley would have what he deserved -- one way or another.
       The phone rang, and Ben stared at it for a moment. He had to answer it. But dammit, he didn't know what the person on the other end was going to say. Sweat trickled down his right temple as he reached for the phone. Maggie was all right; she had to be -- and he had to stop letting the worst creep into his thoughts.
       He snatched up the receiver. "Ben Karr, here."
       Sarah was watching him as he replaced the receiver in its cradle. "Well?" she asked, sitting straighter in her chair.
       "They haven't found the truck yet, but they did locate the owner. It seems he lent it to a couple of his buddies." The two foul-smelling drunks Ben had been sewing up for the past three weeks.
       It was almost midnight, and he'd waited long enough. "I'm leaving, Sarah. If James or anyone else calls, tell them I'm in the chopper, and they can reach me by radio. Roger and Bill will call here just before dawn. You can tell them I'm heading west. They already understand which roads I am planning to follow."
       Sarah stood up and hugged him. "How will you see anything out there. Shouldn't you wait for dawn too?"
       "I'm planning to use the spotlights, Sarah. There's no guarantee I'll see anything, but I have to make the attempt." He turned and headed for the door. He'd ridden spot a hundred times in the jungle. Tonight wouldn't be near as bad, except he would have to be the pilot too. At any rate, with luck, no one would be shooting at him.
       "Shane!" The big Akita skidded around the corner and jumped up on him. Ben patted her side as she squirmed in excitement. "All right, Shane, come on. I may need you."
         * * * *
       "Oh, ouch." Maggie bumped into a massive boulder, hitting her arm and abdomen square on. "It's a good thing I have to walk slowly," she mumbled as she turned around and leaned back against it. She tried to jiggle her left arm enough to loosen her robe. It wasn't working. Her hands were numb from the cold, moreover, the cold was making her shoulder ache painfully enough at times to take her breath away.
       The dread of hiking in circles had clutched at her heart several times since she walked away from the truck. If only the clouds would go away, she could choose a star and continue moving straight ahead.
       Using her back for leverage, she slid down the rock and sat cross-legged on the rough, damp ground. "There must be a hundred sticker gouges in my feet," she breathed, resting her head back against the rock. What a hell of a mess. But at least she was free -- if lost meant free. Being approximately a fifteenth generation Yankee should constitute something. She should have enough of her ancestor's DNA to figure a way out of this jam. They'd survived the seas, escaped Indians, whupped the Tories, fought in the Civil War -- 
       An eerie howling and rustling noise, yanked her mind away from mulling over her legendary family tree. Whatever it was, it sounded large, too large, and it was only a few feet away. The sound came again, farther away this time. Maggie let out her breath, and gulped in air. Stop it woman; do not panic.
       She closed her eyes tightly and allowed the hot tears to fall. It certainly wouldn't hurt anything, and it might prevent her from screaming at the top of her lungs, and waking the drunken and not very professional criminals. Who knows; maybe there had been at least one self-respecting trail-blazer who cried just for the heck of it.
       There had to be a decision here. Should she continue walking or try to sleep? She opened her eyes and looked at the sky. There was a break in the clouds, letting the moonlight filter through, surrounding her with silvery hues.
       The sudden exhilaration of seeing the light, ended abruptly as she looked around and forced back the blood curdling scream that pushed heartily at her throat. Two feet away the ground disappeared. She cautiously scooted forward and peered over the edge. It was unfathomable space, and the moonlight didn't penetrate it. If she hadn't bumped into that rock, she would either be lying at the bottom or still falling into that black abyss.
       She swallowed hard, climbed to her feet, and moved quickly away from the edge.
       Just to let go and faint sounded like a wonderful idea. Instead, she pulled herself up as straight as possible then marched around the boulder. She would keep traveling as long as the moon showed her the way, then if it disappeared, she would sit and rest. It was getting so cold she needed to keep moving anyway, just to keep warm.
         * * * *
       It was still cloudy and almost morning. Maggie could see the faint dark-blue outline of the mountains in the distance. At least now she could distinguish which direction was east. The boulder she sat and leaned against was halfway up a rock and cactus strewn foothill.
       Because her hand was swelling from the rope still binding it, she wiggled her frozen fingers to stimulate the circulation. At least she could see the knot now. She wiggled until her robe hung loosely around her left arm, then with persistent effort she found she could push the arm forward and extend it. Working diligently, she managed to reach the knot on her right side and pried at it. Maybe all that physical therapy would pay-off after all, she thought.
       While she worked on the knot, the cold made her legs cramp, and she moved her toes, praying she would be able to force her legs to respond to her commands. Glory, how her feet hurt, and it wasn't helping the pain to look at the caked blood on them. If you don't look at them they won't hurt so much, she rationalized, gritting her teeth. Mind over matter -- someone, somewhere, said that particular psychology worked tried and true. Maggie groaned. If she ever managed to find her way out of this unexpected predicament, she might have to look that someone up. Whomever needed a broken nose.
       The knot slipped loose, and she stared at it in disbelief. With renewed enthusiasm she pulled gently until the heavy cord on her waist fell freely around her. Maggie yanked it off her wrist, letting the rope fall to the ground, but the sudden release made her hand and arm tingle painfully.
       Drops of water pelted against her face. It had begun to rain, and that was the last straw. "Oh, God. I'm so tired I'll probably never move again," Maggie moaned softly. "I just can't go on. There isn't any sense in going on." She was about to die out here and never see Ben again. No one would ever discover her body or know what happened to her. How could they? No one on the entire earth knew where she was, including herself.
       The baby answered her decision to quit. It kicked and squirmed, waking up her deadened brain and reminding her of her responsibilities for another life.
       She couldn't abandon her efforts to survive.
       The baby needed to live, and she needed Ben.
       Remembering his dark eyes, his deep, loving voice, his gentle, sure touch, her confidence grew stronger. She had to tell him she loved him. He didn't know yet.
       He was definitely out there somewhere, and if she was going to die out here in the middle of nowhere, she was going to do it searching for him.
       Maggie struggled to her feet, picking up her water container as she rose. She hardly noticed that the languid sprinkles had turned into a full-fledged downpour, hardly noticed that her mass of hair clung soddenly against her neck, hardly noticed that the fuzzy robe, now saturated with water, weighed considerably more than it had ten minutes earlier.
       If she walked toward the east, she would find Ben.
         * * * *
       When they needed rain, it was never there. Ben landed his helicopter fifty yards from a police 'copter, five sheriff vehicles, and a beat-up pickup. After cutting the engine and releasing his safety belt, he grabbed his backpack and a blanket from the rear seat. He jammed the blanket between the belts on his pack. When he opened the door, Shane bounded out into the rain, heading full-speed for the truck. Slinging his pack to his shoulders, Ben jumped out and hurried to catch up with her.
       Rotund sheriff Walters walked toward him. "Did you find her?" Ben demanded, keeping an alert eye on Shane.
       "I'm damn sorry, Doc, but she's not here." He waved his arm in the direction of two handcuffed men leaning against the truck. "These imbeciles say they left her tied in the cab when they passed out. As far as I can judge, they're still drunk, but I believe they don't have any idea where she went. What little sign we could discover, indicates she is moving east. And she is barefoot, Doc, because there's a pair of hospital slippers laying behind the front seat."
       Ben motioned in Shane's direction. "Sheriff, the Akita may be helpful since she belongs to Maggie," Ben explained as he studied the terrain. "And the ties between them are strong."
       Sheriff Walters nodded, his double chin bouncing. "Sounds good to me. I'll give her a few minutes, but if she doesn't start working, I'll call for Ralph's bloodhounds." The sheriff brushed water from his forehead as he watched the dog. "I don't know how badly this rain will wash away any scent and tracks."
       It was frosty cold in this high country last night, and Maggie was wearing only thin pajamas and a robe and nothing on her feet. Ben looked around at the rocky and mountainous land to the east. It didn't look hopeful, but somehow he felt certain that Maggie Rand was very much alive and waiting for him.
       "That one says his name is Ray," said the Sheriff as they approached the pickup. "But he's not answering questions. Says he wants a lawyer."
       To hell with that, Ben thought as he rounded the hood of the pickup. He seized the skinny wino wearing the brown hat by his shirtfront, yanking him forward. "Who wanted you to grab Maggie?" His voice was a strangled snarl.
       "Don't ya say nothin', Ray." The other one's voice was a high-pitched squeak. "Ya don't gotta say nothin'."
       The sheriff turned and looked toward the mountains as if he'd made a new discovery on earth, a uniformed man shoved the squeaker into the sheriff's car, and Ben stared hard at Ray.
       "Mr. Johnson," Ray gurgled. Ben had his fist smashed against Ray's vocal cords. He let up slightly.
       "What does this Mr. Johnson look like?"
       After listening to an accurate description of Remley, Ben glanced at sheriff Walters's back. "That would be Kenneth Remley."
       He eyed Ray, then pulled the shirt tighter again. "Where is he?"
       Just as Ray finished telling where he and Jugger were to meet Remley, Shane let out a strange moaning noise and took off past the pickup. Ben forced himself to run just so he could keep her in sight. He was aware that the sheriff was hurrying behind him.
       "Bring another blanket with you," Ben yelled over his shoulder. "If you don't have any, grab one from my chopper."
       Ben slowed down when he saw Shane casting out with her nose to the ground. Even though Shane was so busy she didn't appear to realize he existed, he was careful not to interfere.
       When Shane approached the edge of a cliff and looked down, Ben was certain his heart stopped. But the red Akita backed up, worked the area, and took off around a boulder.
       Ben shuddered as he studied the ravine beyond the steep drop-off and the small footprints a mere two-feet away from it. "Find her, Shane!" he yelled after the dog. Find her for me....
       The rain stopped, and the sun moved through the broken clouds. The sun's rays caressed warmly against his wet, chilled skin. If Maggie hadn't been able to keep warm enough, hypothermia could be a disaster for her. Dammit, he had to find her and soon.
       Ten minutes later the dog bounded up to Ben and dropped a heavy rope in his hand. Before he could respond at all, Shane was off again. There was blood on the rope, and Ben stemmed the violence that coursed through him, stemmed the overwhelming desire to use that violence on the two stench-ridden bums back at the truck.
       When Ben spotted Maggie, she was still a long way off, her rose-colored robe standing out as if it were a bright flower against the beige and ochre tones of the foothills. Shane was already moving like lightning toward her when Ben pushed off at a trot, but impatience won out, and he broke into a run.
         * * * *
       A dog was barking.
       Oh glory, now she was hearing Shane. "Oh, how I wished it was Shane," Maggie muttered. "She would have kept me warm last night, and she probably could have taken me to Ben too." That wonderful, loving dog could do anything.
       The barking grew louder.
       Maggie stopped and turned around.
       They say you can see things out here -- especially when the sun was hot, which it wasn't. "But I thought you were supposed to see things like water and green trees...." Her words faded as she watched Shane slow to a walk, and when she reached Maggie, she whined and sat down in front of her.
       Maggie reached out slowly and touched the vision's ear.
       It wasn't a vision.
       It was soft, warm and vigorously licking her hand.
       She wanted to release the pressure of tears behind her eyes that seemed backed up like an over-stressed dam. Instead, she knelt, throwing her arm around her best friend and hugging the large head against her.
       Shane wouldn't be here alone.
       How would she get here?
       Excitement flooded her as she shoved her wet, tangled hair from her face and saw him. Fascinated, she watched every stride taken by the tall man who approached. Her heart thumped wildly when she stood up to welcome the warmth of his strong arms as they encircled her. When his warm lips touched her cold wet cheek, she realized he wasn't a mirage either.
       Maggie burrowed closer to him. She was dripping wet, but so was he. "It's terribly nice to see you," she whispered. Heaven, it was pure heaven.
       After slipping the heavy, wet robe from her shoulders, Ben wrapped the dry blanket securely around her, then scooped her up in his arms and headed back the way he'd come, with Shane trotting alertly beside them.
       He cleared his throat. "It's been a hell of a long night," he said.
       How on earth could he have found her? She would never worry about the future again, because someone much better qualified had that job and was handling it remarkably well. Maggie moved her nose into the curve of his throat and breathed in his earthy maleness. "You missed the party. For a while there, I thought maybe you didn't get your invitation," she murmured, touching her lips softly against his neck as the world switched off.
       The contact of her lips against his skin forced a tremor to knife through him. Ben tightened his grip when he felt her go limp. She was with him, and he intended to make certain she stayed with him. And if the police didn't move quickly enough, the next action he would take was to hunt down Remley.
       He'd gotten the invitation all right, in the form of a note on yellow paper. With luck, that paper would facilitate putting Remley in prison for quite a nice long while.
         * * * *
       The car's trunk stood open. Remley must be preparing to leave, Ben thought. He stopped at the road's edge, and scanned the motel in front of him. It was the sprawling type, divided into fifteen separate cabins, and the dark-blue car parked in front of number eleven bore the license plates for the car Remley had rented.
       The fifteen minutes the sheriff allowed me will be more than enough, Ben thought, nodding a salute to the two deputies surveiling the motel from their car as he jogged across the street in a straight line toward number eleven. The local deputies were keeping an eye on Remley, and making certain they didn't lose him while waiting for Ben. Well, he wouldn't cause them to wait much longer. When he saw the door ajar, he didn't pause to knock. He kicked the door open and stepped inside, surprising Ken as he closed the lid of a large suitcase.
       When Ken saw Ben, he flipped the lid back up, grabbed a small pistol from within, and aimed at Ben's chest. "It won't do you any good to fire that thing, Remley. You've been had."
       Ken's hand shook, his finger tightening visibly on the trigger. "Why should I believe that? No one in this God-forsaken place knows anything about me."
       "Sorry, Remley. You should have listened when I told you Maggie was to become my wife. Did you really believe she wouldn't be missed?" Lifting the folded yellow paper sticking out of his breast pocket, Ben waved it in the air. "Or, that we would believe the note you left in her room?"
       Ken raised the gun higher. "I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about." He stretched out his left arm. "Hand over the note, Karr."
       Ben shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Can't do it," he said, shaking his head. "You see, there are six or seven heavily armed deputies waiting for you outside." He straightened, taking a step forward and stopping when Ken braced the gun with both hands. "It seems the local authorities have a warrant out for your arrest. It also seems the DA's office in California is having a warrant issued."
       Ken's hands shook harder. He dropped one hand away, and his eyes seemed to glaze over as he raised the gun, aiming at his own head. Ben leaped then, knocking the gun toward the ceiling as Ken fired, sending the gun flying in the air.
       He grabbed Ken by his lapels, lifting him onto his toes as two deputies burst into the room. "I can't have you taking the easy way out," he growled. "Not that I would have minded. It just seems more appropriate that you face your accusers."
         * * * *
       Ben was sleeping. He sat limply in the chair adjacent to her bed. The room was dark except for the night-lights near the floor, but she could see him clearly. His chin rested on his broad chest, and he was wearing the garb he always wore when he was going back and forth to surgery. A lock of thick coffee-colored hair splayed recklessly across his handsome forehead.
       She wanted to reach out and touch him, but her arm felt too tired and stiff to move. She sighed and closed her heavy eyelids.
       The bed was soft and comfortable, Ben was there, and Maggie had never before experienced feeling so gloriously safe and warm in her life. As it had happened in her dream, he had come looking for her just as she'd realized how much she needed him. Now she could rest. Now she would excise her dreaded, proof-positive jinx and take one minute, one hour, one day at a time. Tomorrow would be soon enough to explain her love to him and discover what his reaction would be.
       A rough tongue swiped her hand. Maggie opened her eyes and looked into Shane's. "Ah, baby, what are you doing here?" Shane grumbled in her throat and walked to Ben's side where she plopped down beside his legs. Maggie smiled. She'd known he would have the dogs wrapped around his little finger. Shane looked at him as if she worshiped him. "Me too, Shane," Maggie said, closing her eyes again and wiggling more deeply into her pillow.
         * * * *
       "Maggie, wake up," Cheryl said, shaking Maggie's shoulder gently.
       "Ummph," Maggie moaned into her pillow. Why was Cheryl bothering her? She should go away and let her sleep. Maggie snapped her eyes open, and turned her head. The only thing visible in front of her eyes was Cheryl's white uniform. She groaned and turned over farther. Glory, every muscle in her body screamed at her in outrage for moving.
       "You've been asleep for almost twenty-four hours, lady." Cheryl's cheeks dimpled into a smile. "You need to move around and have something substantial to eat."
       "Oh Cheryl, how did I get here?" Maggie laid her arm across her forehead. "I was walking when I saw a strange mirage. It had Shane and Ben in it." Her eyes blinked open wider. "No ... it was Shane and Ben. But how could they possibly have found me?"
       "It wasn't easy, kiddo. Ben flew his helicopter most of the night. However, the sheriff was the one who found the pickup first, then he radioed Ben their location."
       Cheryl shoved an over-the-bed table closer to Maggie. The filled breakfast tray setting on it smelled delicious. "I guess the men left the truck's headlights on, they acted like a beacon and the sheriff's helicopter spotted it."
       Maggie glanced at the window. It was dark outside. She stared at the tray. "Is it almost morning?"
       "It's five a.m. Since you missed all your meals yesterday, you should be pretty hungry."
       Maggie raised up on her elbow and groaned with the effort. "You're right, Cheryl, breakfast sounds wonderful." Her sweet tooth didn't want to admit it, but the generous portions of food on the tray beat the heck out of her last candy-bar entree.
       "My feet sure feel strange." She tried wiggling her toes, but they felt completely restricted. Sharp prickles moved all through her feet as if they'd forgotten to wake-up with the rest of her body.
       "They should. You must have managed to tramp on every burr and sharp rock out there." Cheryl cranked up the head of Maggie's bed. "Try eating some of this food while it's still warm. I'll be back in a few minutes." Cheryl headed for the door.
       "Where's Ben?" Maggie wanted to see him, talk to him, touch him. "Was he in here last night, or did I just imagine him?"
       "He was here." Cheryl laughed. "As well as being here all yesterday afternoon. He and that dog of yours left about an hour ago. Ben mentioned getting cleaned up and trying to get some sleep. I've never seen an animal in this hospital before." Cheryl stopped at the door. "But Ben said that dog could be any damn place she wanted to be.'"
       Cheryl leaned against the door and looked at Maggie. A slight frown wrinkled her forehead. "Maggie, I know this is none of my business, but the two of you seem to be suffering needlessly. If you love him, why don't you tell him?"
       "When I see him, I believe I will." Seeing Ben's reaction to what she wanted to tell him seemed the most vitally important thing in the world.
       Cheryl chuckled. "It's going to be an interesting day," she said, turning back to the door. "Eat up, and I'll be back in a little while."
       When she reached for her fork, Maggie noticed her wrist for the first time. A bandage covered most of the scrapped, black and blue skin where the rope had bound her, and a multitude of scratches crisscrossed the outside surface of her arm. She laid the fork down, pushed back her sheet and glanced at her legs. They looked as if a savage cat had attacked them, because there didn't seem to be much skin without some sort of mark on it.
       After flipping the sheet higher, Maggie laughed loudly. Thick white bandages encompassed her feet, which made them resemble the clods circus clowns wore. Her favorite cartoon came to mind, but she knew even the coyote looked better than this after a brawl with the road-running bird.
       Could she possibly walk on anything that looked like this? It had to be some sort of joke -- no one bandaged feet like that. Maggie had to test it. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood up. It felt as though she were standing on a cloud. While she walked across the room, she laughed again. Whatever happened to her life's mundane, day-to-day routine?
       One thing was certain; boredom was not on her list of possible complaints.
--------
         *Chapter 21*
       He just wasn't going to come. Maggie raised her glance to the clock on the wall and sat down in the chair by the window. It was almost four in the afternoon and no Ben. It could mean he'd succeeded in not caring for her any longer, Maggie thought. He probably came searching for her the night before last because of a conscientious sense of duty. She remembered Ben's expression and his voice when he'd found her, recognized her thoughts weren't at all convincing, but she couldn't help it. Why hadn't he come?
       This morning Cheryl allowed her to read the note they found in her room. No one could figure out how someone could get in, take what little she had, and leave the note without being seen. Well, she could. The note was written on yellow legal paper for one thing, and Ken always carried a brief case. She imagined it was sitting nearby even when he was taking a shower. Snakes could slither in and out of a place without being seen, and he definitely fit the description. Ken wasn't stupid, so he must have been in a tremendous hurry to have used tell-tale paper and overlooked her photo, but he was shrewd enough to come and go without being caught.
       But, why? If that proved to be his handwriting, he could go to prison for a long time, and Kenneth Remley wasn't the type to expose himself to danger for nothing. It was a blank page. There just didn't seem to be any reason.
       She looked at the clock again. The big hand was edging closer to the twelve.
       Cheryl entered the room with an armful of clothing. "Hey, why the sad look? You okay?"
       Maggie sniffed, deciding not to burden Cheryl with her bewildered thoughts. "I'm just fine. What have you got?"
       "Some clothes for you," Cheryl answered, moving across the room. "Ben will be here in a little while, and he says he is taking you for a ride. I guess he was in a big hurry, because he said he would explain everything when he arrived." Cheryl set the clothes on the bed as Maggie walked toward her.
       "These look new." Maggie hesitantly touched the garments and glanced at Cheryl. "Where did they come from?"
       "Sarah, Ben's housekeeper, brought them in earlier today. You'll love Sarah, she's a sweetheart. Anyway, she told me her shopping trip was the most worthwhile fun she has had in a long time. What do you think?"
       Maggie was still trying to digest the need to take her for a ride. She picked up the light-pink maternity blouse and turned it around. So, Sarah really was his housekeeper. Only a touch of jealousy and the gleam in his eyes had made her doubt his word.
       "This is perfect." Maggie remembered the feel and smell of his shirt. "At least it's not a man's shirt." She fingered the delicate lace attached to the scooped-neck of the blouse. Was this another sense-of-duty gesture?
       "Come on, Maggie, smile a little. Put these on and let's find out if they fit properly."
       When Ben entered the room thirty-minutes later, Maggie was sitting on the side of the bed brushing her hair. "You look ready to leave," he said, sauntering toward her without the slightest hesitation.
       "Yes," she answered softly. Oh glory, her heart was banging heavily against her chest. He was so fiercely male, so vitally alive, so -- 
       He scooped her into his arms and headed for the door.
       "What are you doing?" No, hello -- or -- how are you? Just grab up and go.
       "I'm carrying you."
       "Okay. To where are you carrying me?"
       "Straight to my Jeep, because we're going to the sheriff's office and we're late already. He needs you to identify the two derelicts who waylaid you and make formal charges."
       "But I can walk. You really don't need to get a hernia over me."
       "What do you mean you can walk? I personally bandaged your feet so you couldn't -- course, I had a little help from James."
       Maggie laughed. "So you're the one responsible for my gunboats." She rested her arm on his shoulder and fought the desire to let her hand wander around the muscles hidden under his shirt. She glanced down at the thick bandages thoughtfully. "Seems like you went to a tremendous amount of trouble, and it must have taken you hours. There's an explanation, of course."
       He stopped only long enough to plant a gentle kiss alongside her mouth, then continued walking. "Because, of course," he mimicked her, "if you can't walk, I have to carry you." He pushed through the exit doors and walked across the parking lot to the dark, metalic-red Jeep a few feet away.
       "And, of course, there's a reason you want to carry me," she murmured, her throat, dry, her mind, anticipating. The brightness of his eyes burned through her like a laser.
       "We will discuss the subject later in great detail," Ben said coolly, swinging open the Jeep's door and neatly depositing her inside.
       "You'll take these boats off my feet before the discussion, right?"
       "Maybe," he said, closing the door.
         * * * *
       It had taken an hour to wade through the sheriff's paperwork and questions -- not counting the ten minutes' Ben took convincing the Sheriff it was all right that Maggie was out of the hospital. It was understandable why the sheriff behaved upset, especially since she looked as if she belonged in intensive care.
       "This isn't the way back to the hospital," Maggie observed, turning to look at Ben. A rakish grin lifted one side of his tempting mouth. He'd been smiling like that since they left the sheriff's office.
       "We're going to my house for a while." He turned the Jeep through ranch gates with a large burnt-letter sign curving gracefully over head, which read: The Karr Frontier Ranch 1875.
       Maggie brushed the hair from her forehead. She wanted to see where he lived, so why was she feeling so nervous? Her hand was shaking. He reached out and took it in his.
       "Relax, sweetheart. We needed a quiet place for a long talk. And home was the only place I could think of that would give us enough privacy."
       Maggie suddenly realized she never had the chance to ask Carole about Nicholas. "Ben, what's happening to baby Nick?"
       The corners of his lovely mouth turned up in a big grin. "Your idea turned out as a masterpiece, Maggie. The Vega's have filed papers with our local jurisdiction for the adoption of our Nick. There shouldn't be any problems, not with so many people behind them."
       "Oh, thank goodness," she managed around the lump in her throat.
       "Could you explain that a little more? Why do I feel those words carry a world of meaning?"
       She supposed she could tell him. It couldn't make him angry or upset, since everything would be okay for Nicholas now. "Well," she said calmly, "I would have had to figure out a way to -- " Nope, she couldn't say it.
       Ben glanced suspiciously at her. "Let me guess. You would have wanted to swipe Nick." He laughed when she nodded her head. "It wouldn't have worked you know. I'm getting too be an expert at hunting you down."
       Yes, he was; however, Maggie had no desire to be any farther away from him than the fascinating low tone of his voice would reach.
       He pointed out the window. "There's the house."
       The house appeared almost blinding as the setting sun hit its white exterior, and the enormous size of its red-tiled roof and sprawling Spanish design gave the impression of pure magnificence. Shane bounded from the rambling front veranda to come racing toward them with little Cricket right behind her.
       "What do you think so far?" Ben asked as he brought the vehicle to a stop near the front walk.
       "I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it. Was the house built a very long time ago?" He was already coming around the Jeep to open her door.
       "It's been standing here since 1879." Ben lifted her out of the Jeep and walked toward the house. "Every Karr that lived in it managed to remodel it, excluding myself. I haven't found anything I want to change -- but I wouldn't mind adding to it." He fumbled with his keys.
       "You know, you could put me down." Her voice sounded terribly weak, and if he kept holding her like this, she wouldn't be able to talk at all.
       "Not on your life," he said smoothly as he let her watch the keys he dangled in front of her eyes. "Here, make yourself useful."
       He handed her the key, and she tried turning it in the lock, but Shane was licking her hand. Maybe she was trying to forewarn Maggie that beyond the door lay the possibility of commitment. Maggie smiled, tried again, and the lock turned.
       Ben deposited her on a magnificent brocade couch in the largest living room she'd ever seen. He sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms.
       "Where's your housekeeper?"
       In an attempt to give her reassurance, Ben kissed the corner of her mouth. "Sarah and her husband Tim left this afternoon to visit their daughter and her family in Tucson. They'll be back sometime next week."
       "Oh," she said, resisting the urge to turn her mouth into his. So, Sarah had a husband and was old enough to have grandchildren.
       He straightened slightly away from her. "Now. Let's see, where were we? You asked why I wanted to carry you? Let's save that for last because I have several important things that need explaining. Oh, hell," he groaned, placing kisses down her neck.
       His seductive tone sent a tremor, wild and sweet through her insides while Maggie closed her eyes tightly against a breathtaking flash of desire. Her throat constricted. "I thought maybe you weren't coming back to the hospital." He ran his tongue along her ear lobe sending a shiver of delight traveling down her spine. Just when she'd decided seeing him was hopeless, he came for her.
       Ben studied her closely, loving the sparkle in her eyes. "I had to go back. I had something important to pick up." He brushed a kiss across her cheek. "The main cause for my delay in getting back to the hospital today was dealing with your drunken abductors." He straightened. "I guess we'd better get all this discussion out of the way."
       Out of the way, before what? "Why did you have to deal with them? It had to be Ken, I just know it."
       "Your right," he said quietly. "Mr. Remley is in deep manure up to the top of his devious head."
       "But I can't understand any of it. I've searched my mind, and there's just no reason for all of this." Maggie nestled closer to his warm strength.
       "As it turns out there is a whole battery of reasons. First, Josh didn't owe any money." He slid his hand under her blouse, splaying his fingers out, gently caressing her side.
       Maggie's mouth dropped open. "But -- the money from the house, insurance, and my possessions all went to pay...." Her words faded out as she slammed into nothing but blank space.
       "Probably Mr. Remley's debts," Ben finished for her. "He was filching money from trusts his office was in charge of monitoring, then he would invest the money until it made a sweet, pocket-filling profit. He kept the profit, and if no one was bothering with that trust, he would either invest again, or replace the money if someone was snooping around."
       "I still don't understand what any of this has to do with Josh and me." Maggie looked up into his eyes and felt the boldly potent desire she saw there. When Ben cradled her closer, Maggie realized he was doing his best to cushion any pain his words might inflict.
       "Remley made all the investments in your husband's name, and Josh evidently signed anything Remley placed in front of him. But then, he most likely trusted Remley and didn't bother reading what he was signing."
       "Glory," Maggie moaned, thinking how easily influenced and trusting Josh had been. And how she, when it came to his own cases, had been the one to read everything Josh signed until the day he walked out. "But it still doesn't make sense why he wanted me around."
       "You, my sweet Maggie, were the cream on the pie. Until, of course, you stubbornly refused to cooperate and became the one liability that could destroy him."
       "For heavens sakes, how?" Maggie moved her head back and noticed a rage in Ben's eyes that was almost tangible. It had just appeared, and she wanted to soothe it away.
       "Because of Josh's death, you were next in line to sign the business investment contracts. Although he wanted to avoid conspicuous involvement, if you were to die, the subsequent signature required became Mr. Remley's. However, that wasn't all he would be next in line for. The bastard."
       "What else is there? I'm having a hard enough time digesting what you've said so far." His hand slipped from her waist, and Maggie leaned forward rubbing her fingers on her temples. Glory! All this sounded like a scene from her favorite mystery program.
       How could he explain everything to her and still manage to keep the heartaches out of it? "Your husband established a surprise for you that he never told you about." Ben reached out and cupped her chin gently. "He opened a trust in your name and poured as much money as he could collect into it for an insurance policy for you. Remley informed the authorities that Josh would have explained it all to you, only he talked Josh into waiting a year." Ben could see the heart-rendering sadness developing in her eyes, and wished he could end the conversation -- but he couldn't, not yet.
       "The beneficiaries went like this: you, if you died, your boys, and if they died, Remley. There's over two hundred thousand dollars in the fund, Maggie." He kissed her on both eyes, tasting the saltiness of her tears and the sweetness of her delicate skin. As she gazed at him, her expression seemed a mixture of confusion and amazement.
       "I can't believe all this is happening. You look as if you haven't told me everything."
       "Of course the two derelicts he hired in La Vista already admitted that Remley wanted you dead, but Remley has denied that he committed, or intended to commit, any foul play. At any rate, the sheriff is having Josh's truck removed from the canyon to complete his investigation. They want to make certain that no one tampered with anything on the truck that may have caused the accident." He felt her suck in her breath and hugged her snugly, rubbing his chin lightly against her hair.
       "He couldn't have done anything that evil," she mumbled into his shoulder. Maggie raised her head. "When will they know for sure?"
       "It shouldn't be long. They were working on getting the truck yesterday." The canyon was a deep one, and although they had brought the people out, they hadn't risked anyone's life by hauling the truck to the surface.
       "What happened to the money Ken took from me for the sale of everything?" Straightening her shoulders, Maggie sniffed, then accepted the handkerchief Ben handed to her.
       Her fortitude and her strong ability to accept what life had thrown at her was endearing her more securely than ever to his heart. "Neil Abbott from the D.A's office and your friend J.T. Campbell are delving into it. J.T., by the way, is the one who uncovered most of the information about Remley. When I talked with Sue, she never mentioned her husband was a top-of-the-line investigator."
       Maggie tipped her head to the side, unable to keep her eyes from widening with surprise. "When did you talk to Sue?"
       "The second or third day you were in my hospital. Actually, she managed to hunt me down. Sue wanted to come visit you right away, Maggie, but I persuaded her to wait." Ben rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't suppose I had a right to do that, but I wanted you to be stronger before she came. I had the feeling she would be a mother hen you didn't need right away."
       He didn't tell her they would be on their way tonight. Sue wanted it to be a surprise. Joe was to pick them up in Tucson tomorrow at seven in the morning and fly them back in the ranches' six-place Saraga.
       She twisted her hands in her lap. "That's okay. You were probably right ... I don't know, but I would like to call her soon. The only reason I haven't is because I don't have the money for a long distance phone call." Maggie raised her hand and touched his face. "That's not quite the whole reason. Sue didn't want to listen to my feelings about Ken. She thought I was being paranoid because of my grief and pregnancy. All she seemed to notice was Ken's sophistication and that he was doing so much to support me. Frustration is why I haven't wanted to talk with her."
       Ben caught her hand and kissed the palm. "You can call her anytime you want to," he said huskily. The softness of her hand on his face was overriding his determination to finish their discussion. Go slowly, man, he told himself. Take it one step at a time. "When I first spoke to Sue, she had already decided that Remley wasn't the person he wanted everyone to believe he was. She's been on your side a long time, Maggie. The day you left, she'd gone back to your house to tell you, but it was too late."
       "I'm glad. I've missed Sue's friendship. She and I have been close for ten years.
       "Ben?"
       "Humm?"
       She drew her fingers lightly across his cheek. "Did you really think I wanted to die?"
       "Father Paul told you that didn't he?" He captured her fingers as she nodded her head. "Well, didn't you?" Ben asked. He didn't want to think about the way she could scare hell out of him.
       She sighed, relaxing against him. "No. I have a habit of saying that when frustration gets the better of me." She paused. "I admit that before I arrived here, there were some days of loneliness that made me wish I hadn't been left behind." Hearing his steady, strong heartbeat was an encouragement she needed. "More than anything I wanted to start a new life for my baby and myself. Get a job, find a place to live...." Her voice faded when she felt him gently brush a stray curl from her forehead.
       "I couldn't be happier to hear I had that idea all wrong," he said with meaning. "I'm certain you realize by now, that if death was what you wanted, I would never allow you to carry it out."
       Oh yes, she knew. Maggie nodded her head, swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in her throat. She remembered every opinion he'd thrown at her, but his straight forwardness, his gentle, never-ending friendship, his seemingly effortless ability to listen, his consistent attempts to understand as well as his wanting understanding, were all the qualities that drew her like a magnet.
       Ben stood up, clasped her hand, and helped her to her feet. "How do the feet feel?"
       His eyes were soft, black velvet as they roamed across her face. Not really wanting to look away, she directed her attention to her feet and their snowshoe bandages that merged deeply in the plush carpet. "Fine. Kinda like standing on a cloud," she said, grinning.
       Her thoughts were still stumbling with confusion and trying to absorb all the information he'd just given her. She should have enlisted Jacob's help to investigate for her months ago, but if she'd done that, she wouldn't be standing here beside this man. How would she tell him she loved him? Tell him she was afraid to love him.
       "Why don't you walk around and look at the house. I have a phone call to make, then I'll catch up with you."
       "This seems rather beautiful for the home on a working ranch. Not that I've ever been on one before," she qualified.
       "My mother and father entertained their friends and clients in this old house," he said quietly. "Since they've been gone, there haven't been as many parties and barbecues. They used to roast half a steer for company and a whole one for cattle and horse sales. We still do for the sales." He walked toward the French doors at the end of the room. "Go ahead, I'll be back in just a minute."
       After Maggie watched him disappear behind the doors, she moved across the room and wandered into a wide hall. The first room she saw had huge, double-swinging wood doors across the entrance, and she pushed them open. This had to be Ben's study. A sizable desk sat near a wall of windows, and she found it extremely easy to visualize him sitting behind it. Everything about the room fit his image perfectly, from the medical books on the shelves adjacent to the desk, to the silver-studded saddle on a rack in a corner.
       As Maggie moved farther into the room, she noticed two other walls contained books from ceiling to floor, and one of them had a section of trophies. A few statues depicted men on bucking horses. Did Ben ride in dangerous activities like that, or another member of his family?
       Maggie crossed the room and read the inscription on one of the tall gold statues. Boldly imprinted on it, was Ben Karr's name. The date was nine years ago. He probably rode wild horses as well as he did everything else, she thought, as she walked back toward the door, but she wouldn't want to watch.
       She strolled slowly down the hall, enjoying the colorful Arizona landscape paintings placed at intervals along the paneled and adobe-type walls, until she came to a door slightly ajar. It only took a casual push for the door to swing open, and she moved forward into the room.
       Heat flared in her cheeks as Maggie realized it had to be Ben's bedroom. A man's personal belongings were sitting neatly on a long, low bureau.
       Large glass-paneled doors revealed a patio and a pool just beyond them, and Maggie found the sight too beautiful to ignore. When she reached the doors, she gazed in awe at the garden's breathtaking beauty. Several shades of scarlet, grays, and yellows lit up the roses, and green plants of all sizes and shapes and blooms gave the scene an ethereal atmosphere. Almond and walnut and fruit trees outlined the garden like guards. This had to be the work of Ben's mother. A woman's touch was significantly visible in the design of this garden.
       When she turned around, her reflection in a floor to ceiling mirror near the door caught her attention. This was the first opportunity she had in weeks to see her pregnant body from top to bottom. Maggie straightened her blouse nervously and walked closer. Glory, did she ever look ridiculous! She chuckled, loudly.
       The pretty pink blouse covered her extremely rounded belly. Topping off the entire image was a bandage on her forehead, two on her left hand, one on the other elbow, the light-blue sling on her left arm, and jumbo white feet. No one could look this damaged and live.
       When Maggie raised her glance back to her face, Ben was standing behind her. His black gaze trapped hers in the reflection, and she couldn't look away. "Did you make your phone call?" she managed as a powerful craving for him to touch her, for her to explore him, shot through her.
       He gently pushed her hair aside, and his lips against her neck sent a quiver through Maggie that stopped in the core where the gnawing desire for him always sparked into life.
       "Come and sit down," he said, leading her to the bed. He pushed her down gently and knelt beside her. "The sheriff heard from California." He shoved his hand through his hair. "There isn't any merciful way for me to tell you about this, Maggie. I'm sorry."
       His voice was heavy and a sadness filled his eyes. Maggie recognized his tension and touched his arm soothingly. "Please, Ben. I need to know what they found." But she already knew. She could see it in his face; Ken killed Josh; Ken killed her babies.
       "They found evidence that someone tampered with the brakes and steering mechanisms on Josh's truck. And the handwriting experts concluded this morning that Ken wrote the note found in your room." Ben rose, sat beside her on the bed and took her hand in his. "An hour ago Remley's father helped interrogate him. Neil said Ken took one look at his old man, then broke down and admitted everything. He hired a professional to sabotage the pickup, but in La Vista, he ran out of professionals. He'll be going to prison for a long time."
       Maggie stared at her hand. It seemed lost in Ben's larger, warmer one. But the unearthly chill ran through her anyway. Now she understood it. Understood the cold greed and death that surrounded Ken, understood the warning Josh and the boys had tried to give her in her dream. "Thank you for telling me," she whispered, her voice shaky.
       Then she leaned against his shoulder and cried, releasing all the sorrow and confusion and loneliness that she'd kept buried in her heart.
         * * * *
       When Maggie awoke, the sun's rays no longer filtered through the bedroom. A small bedside lamp gently illuminated the room and the clock beside it flashed nine o'clock on its luminous dial. She pushed her legs over the side of the bed. Something else was different. The huge bundle of bandages no longer enveloped her like snowshoes. Instead, smaller dressings covered the soles of her feet.
       I'm going to miss my boots, she thought, as she entered the bathroom. Ben's sense of humor was encouraging, lovable, and just what she needed.
       She flipped on the light, then splashed her face with cold water. After she finished, she walked to the patio doors. Pool lights glowed beneath the water and a deep aqua shimmer bounced off the plants and trees.
       A movement, a familiar scent, it didn't matter, she knew he was there. For a second time, Maggie glanced in the mirror to see Ben standing behind her, his shirt hanging open, his feet, bare.
       She studied herself for a moment. Her eyes were slightly puffy but resolved and no longer haunted. Sorrow remained, but not the heavy weight of it.
       Ben rested his hands on her waist. "Will you be all right?" Her hazel eyes were luminous as she watched him.
       Oh yes, she would be fine, as long as he would hold her, love her. "I'll be all right, Ben. They'll always be with me. You know that don't you?"
       His eyes never wavered from hers. "We all have loved ones whose spirits are always with us."
       "Yes." Her knees shook as he brushed her neck with soft kisses.
       Weakness overcame her limbs, and she wanted to let go and lean against him for support, but she couldn't, not yet. She closed her eyes against the longing that invaded her as she tried to make him understand, to give them each a chance to retreat. "I love you, Ben -- for however long you'll let me," she managed as she brought her hand up to the side of his face and slid her fingers into the softness of his hair, giving in to a long awaited fantasy.
       His large hand moved around her waist, lightly brushing her breast, her abdomen. "I doubt," he said, bringing her back against him, "that a lifetime will be long enough."
       Maggie opened her eyes and stared at him. She had to be certain she understood exactly what he was saying. "It won't be long and I'll be a parent," she said, observing him carefully in the mirror, fascinated with the sweet, sensual magnetism emanating from his eyes as they found hers in the reflection. Ben Karr loved her. She knew that now without a doubt.
       He couldn't let her go now. Ben had tried not to move so fast with her, but the sight of her in this room unhinged him. He'd been seeing her here every night for almost a month; only this time, she didn't dissolve. Excitement darkened her eyes as she nestled back against him.
       "Parenthood cradles most of life's rewards, especially when we share it," he said, his fingers roaming across her breast, then to her shoulder.
       Although Ben was glad she had had them for padding while bound with a rope and lost in the mountains, Maggie didn't really need the heavier bandages on her shoulder any more. But right now they reminded him of the earthy arousal he wanted to explore. With gentleness, that was the way he wanted to taste her, caress her, with sweet, slow, erotic gentleness.
       He ran his hands lightly over her abdomen, and the baby moved, clenching Ben's heart with an even stronger desire to protect than he'd felt before.
       He turned her around and found the soft curve of her lips, probing deeply to savor the sweetness within. The desire in her eyes and the way her lips and tongue were tasting him, shifted his hormones into overdrive. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bed. She belonged beside him. She had belonged there from the moment he laid eyes on her.
       All Maggie's senses flared with awareness. There was no way she could fight the compelling desire and sensuality that he created in her; and she didn't want to. It had sparked into full flame the moment his dark eyes met hers in the mirror. After he laid her on the bed, she reached her arm out to him, and he brought his long, muscular body down beside her.
       Ben took her face in his large hands. "I love you, Maggie.
       She drew her breath in sharply at the rawness of hunger in his tone and expression, then rested her hands on his bare chest, and felt the hard pounding of his heart against her palm. A desperate need to run her fingers over his heated skin drove her. When Maggie slid her palm over the swelling muscles of his chest, she raised her eyes to his and understood the question in his beautiful dark eyes. He wanted assurance of her love.
       She'd only known one man in her life. But she had given Ben the one thing she'd never surrendered before, her heart -- what if she failed him? "I don't know if I can be what you want," she whispered uncertainly, as she caressed his cheek. His black eyes stroked her with fire, unchaining the riot of yearnings held captive within her.
       When he brought his lips down on hers, all doubts that had plagued her mind the past weeks' disintegrated. Maggie moved until she rested against his chest.
       "I feel like we can become one with merely a touch," he said against her skin. "Come with me, Maggie. Let's do life together."
       His deep voice mesmerized her. Never before had she been so intricately aware of all that surrounded her. The reflected light of the moon filtered though a skylight and bathed them in a mixture of shadows and enchanting silver. The silky sheets on the bed, cool against her hot skin. The smooth hard muscles of his body as she ran her fingers over them. The soft, leathery scent that surrounded him. The deep glitter of his black eyes as she slowly nodded her head.
       Maggie slid her glance to his shoulders and chest. The dark-gold of his tanned body, which he kept hidden under his shirt didn't surprise her, but the deep scars on his shoulder did. After she placed her fingers on them, probing gently, she caressed them with the tip of her tongue and tasted the tangy saltiness of his skin.
       "You'll tell me about it?" she asked.
       "Later," he murmured against her lips. "We can discuss it later."
       Maggie couldn't think anymore. She didn't want to think anymore. His arms encircled her as she relaxed against his shoulder. Nothing in her past experiences prepared Maggie for the certainty she felt lying there with him.
         * * * *
       Life embraced constant wonders. Experiencing the binding emotions that had gripped his heart when he recognized the love in Maggie Rand's eyes and then realized she was his, had been a long-awaited first. The other half of his life that had been missing for much too long. He had recognized the loneliness of its absence, vaguely overlooked it almost deliberately most of his adult life; now, he had it all. Now that he'd discovered how it felt to have that other half tucked close against his side, Ben wondered why he'd wanted to live without it.
       He remembered the way his father had always looked at his mother and his father's words of wisdom he had, inaccurately, managed to disbelieve. Okay, Pop, you were right. No one ever said I was a fast learner.
       Maggie's head lay cradled against his chest, and her silky hair brushed his cheek softly. The baby moved, and he felt the slight jostling against his thigh. The flawless happiness that filled him made him want to laugh out loud.
       This beautiful woman, bandaged like a patch-work quilt, moved heat through him like lava from a volcano. And the miracle or destiny that brought them together, whatever the rationale that had driven her to the cave, would probably stay elusive forever. It wouldn't change anything by questioning fate, he thought. She was out of danger and here in his arms -- nothing else mattered.
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         *Chapter 22*
       A fiery-yellow blaze of sunlight seemed to embrace them as it filtered through the large, glass doors, leading from the bedroom to the pool. The first rays of morning caressed their faces, and Maggie reached out to touch their almost tangible radiance on the relaxed features of the man lying asleep beside her. A new dawn, and bringing with it, a new beginning. The bright-gold rays reflected the happiness that surged in her heart.
       It would probably be safe enough to awaken him now. Her "Medicine Man."
       She turned her attention to the clock by the bed. Maggie had been viewing the illuminated dial almost steadily since four in the morning. A rolling ache that erupted in her back and trailed methodically to her belly button, forced her to hold her breath, swallowing the moan pushing at her throat. That was only three minutes and much harder than before.
       A backache had awakened her at ten o'clock last night, but she'd managed to doze until four. It was important to wait until the last possible moment to disturb Ben. If she waited long enough, Ben couldn't drag her off to the hospital, and it would be heaven not to see inside that place again, and especially not to see it as an in-house patient.
       Heat burned her cheeks as she realized everyone at the hospital knew she didn't come back last night, and they all knew exactly where she was. They wouldn't know that nothing but loving caresses and promises had passed between them. It didn't matter; this was where she belonged, where she wanted to stay.
       The rolling ache started its earlier process again, so she attempted to breathe the way James had instructed her. And for a moment she was successful, but she couldn't control the low, drawn-out moan that suddenly broke through her lips.
       Her deep moan and the force of the contraction vibrated through the bed into Ben's body. His eyes blinked open, and he angled up on his elbow, leaning toward her. Maggie was here, warm and real. She belonged with him, and she -- 
       She was sweating.
       Her silky hair was dark and damp at the temples, her cheeks flushed, and she returned his gaze with bright, sparkling eyes. She had that familiar look that -- Good heaven on high. Maggie was going to have her baby! Ben's heart slammed against his chest. Keep cool! Don't get her all upset.
       "You wouldn't do this to me would you, Maggie?" he whispered against her lips, tasting her. She'd replaced her clothing last night with one of his baggy T-shirts that reached past her knees. Her sling was loose so he straightened it, heartily hoping she would shake her head in denial.
       "Yes," she whispered back, running her fingers down his cheek.
       That was it! Ben moved off the bed and grabbed for his clothes. "Just wait one minute and I'll take you to the hospital."
       Maggie reached toward him. "Please," she begged. "I don't want to go anywhere. I want to stay right here. Oh, please!" she gasped as an undeniable pushing contraction moved through her.
       Ben yanked on his pants. "This is almost two weeks early, Maggie. James should take care of this, he's your doctor." He'd given up that position the moment he decided he wanted to be her friend, not her medical adviser.
       "No!" She struggled to sit up.
       Determination to have her way filled her eyes and the stubborn jut of her chin. Ben gently pushed her back. "All right, all right, sweetheart, take it easy." He looked at his hands. They were shaking. Maggie was calmer than he was; this was ludicrous.
       Ben walked to the closet, grabbed a shirt and shoved his arms in the sleeves as he moved back to the bed. What the bloody hell is wrong with me? he thought as he buttoned his shirt. He'd delivered so many babies he'd quit counting a long time ago.
       But ... not this baby, and not with Maggie and not at home in his bed. The possibilities the idea created, seeped in as he thought how the meaningful event just might establish the binding element he needed to convince Maggie it should be their home -- their bed. What could he lose? He would go with it.
       "I'll be right back, sweetheart." He gestured toward the door. "I need to grab a couple of important things from my study for this occasion." And make a fast, equally important, phone call.
       The radiant smile she gave him turned his gut up-side down. Lord, God, he wished he felt like smiling. Maybe later.
       "Ben," she said, clutching the sheet tightly in her fist. "I really think you should hurry."
       Ben swore softly as he moved quickly out of the room. One thing he'd learned, and learned solidly, was when a woman having a baby said that to you -- you took it ever so seriously.
       When Ben returned five minutes later, she was in the middle of one hell of a contraction. Unprofessional beads of sweat broke out on his temples, and he hoped she wouldn't notice them. He was quickly developing a deeper understanding for the fathers who paced outside the hospital delivery room, or turned the color of chalk as they coached their wives.
       Ben slipped a plastic sheet and a clean cotton sheet under her hips. "Do you want to watch any of this?" he asked, sitting down beside her. "You've probably watched this before."
       Maggie gritted her teeth as she first nodded her head, then shook it.
       Ben stared at her. "You want to watch, but you haven't watched before?" Maggie nodded again as she relaxed from the contraction. Something all too familiar about her expression reminded him of a first-timer, but that, of course, was impossible. "Did you just not want to watch, or did you have another reason?"
       She brushed a hand across her forehead and closed her eyes. "Since -- this -- is -- my first -- experience," she said between pants, a new contraction beginning, "I -- haven't had -- the opportunity."
       "What, for heaven's sake, do you mean, 'first experience'?" Ben asked, taking her hand as he remembered the conversation he'd had with James; the one he hadn't followed-up on because it hadn't seemed necessary. He also remembered when he examined her the first time, and how he thought she must have had incredibly easy pregnancies, no scars, no stretch marks -- still -- none of it was out of the realm of possibility. And he hadn't asked. She'd had two boys, and he hadn't asked.
       Maggie opened her eyes and gave him a totally innocent glance. "My boys were adopted," she said. "James didn't tell you?"
       No, James didn't tell him. He would have a long conversation with James, a very long, long conversation. "I guess it must have slipped his mind -- but why haven't you told me?"
       "You didn't ask. I -- " Maggie gripped his hands firmly as she struggled to inhale deeply and blow it out. "We don't even have any diapers," she said, clenching her teeth.
       After she released his fingers, Ben pushed three pillows behind her back, and handed her one to clamp onto. He gently pushed a strand of wet hair behind her ear. She was sweating profusely now, but then, so was he. The drops trickled down his back. He leaned over and brushed a kiss across her lips. "Oh yes we do. There's shirts, gowns, a doll, and a football. I think that covers everything."
       The baby was crowning, and he could see a small mass of auburn hair. Ben yanked on sterile gloves as he sat down beside Maggie and massaged the area around the tiny head to help the birth become an easier experience for both of them.
       Maggie gasped and Ben placed his hand on her abdomen. This was it. He reached his hand toward her, and she grabbed it firmly as he pulled her gently forward.
       "Ben," Maggie whispered between breaths.
       "Yeah, sweetheart, you're doing fine."
       "I want -- to tell you," she panted out, "I -- love you."
       Oh Lord, would he live through this? "I love you, too," he murmured, feeling the strenuous contraction along with her.
       Maggie released a long, low moan, watching as her child slipped from her body. A girl. A chubby little girl filled his hands, and out of habit he shifted to see the clock beside the bed -- 7:30 a.m..
       Ben gently cleaned the baby girl's face and suctioned her nose and mouth. Just as she screwed up her tiny face and cried lustily, Ben laid her on Maggie's abdomen, allowing her to give support and soothe away the crying.
       The bonding between mother and daughter took place, softly, quietly. Ben felt it to his soul, and for the first time in his life he allowed the bonding to include himself, and it felt fantastic. He didn't want to take his eyes away from them.
       Maggie caressed the baby while he tied the cord. His heart swelled painfully in his chest as he watched mother and child. His woman, and regardless of genes, his child.
       "Ben?"
       Maggie's voice held a hint of torment. He grasped her hand warmly in his, wondering what was causing it. "What is it, sweetheart?"
       "If I love you, you won't die and leave me will you?" she asked quietly.
       Her eyes were round and moist with an emotion he could identify. She was serious, and he understood her doubts about the tomorrows. He shook his head and kissed her gently. "If I love you," he countered, "and when you find out what a doctor's life is all about, will you walk out on me?" Then her smile came slowly as she pinned him with her unfaltering gaze.
       "Never," she said. "Thank you."
       "Thank you," he said, cutting the umbilical cord, releasing the infant from her mother, and with it, severing his own disquietude. He understood now that he was capable of loving this woman and his work without disunity. She would always be near him whether they were together physically or not.
       "Well, it isn't if, Maggie. I love you." He reached out and brushed the damp hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. "Marry me. I need you."
       Her gaze never leaving his, she nestled the baby closer to her breast. "She wants a name, Ben. Give her a good one."
       "Shannon", he answered without hesitation. "I always wanted a daughter named Shannon."
       "Yes," Maggie said. "I would like that very much."
       Ben smiled. "Which -- Shannon, marriage?"
       Maggie took his hand, brushing her lips against it, savoring happiness and a sense of well-being. "Both, Ben. Shannon as your daughter, and me as your wife." As he came closer, she whispered, "It isn't if, Ben, I love you."
          -- THE END -- 

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