Miss David Returns

by Kate

Joe stood motionless and rigid in the bright spray of afternoon light, streaming through a row of tall, rectangular windows.  A distant part of his mind struggled to place his surroundings in semi-believable order.  He reminded himself he was not dreaming¾that he was in fact standing in the sprawling drawing room of the Circle C ranch.  He had been summoned there by his friend, Shey Cutter, who’d insisted on presenting him with a gift for his birthday.  But not just any gift. As befitted his crass, cavalier friend, Shey had gone the extra mile, crafting a surprise even Joe could not have fathomed.  He felt the floor waffle beneath him as he glimpsed the slender, dark-haired woman seated on the davenport.   

“Good God,” he breathed, barely able to get the words past his constricted throat.

With graceful poise, Lorna David stood. “Happy Birthday, Joe,” she greeted with a hesitant smile.

Though a year had lapsed since last they’d seen one another, Joe well recalled the feelings he’d harbored when they’d parted.  Lorna David had once agreed to be his wife.  For him, despite the long intervening months, those feelings, however aged, were still vibrantly alive.  Visibly shaken, he struggled for composure.  “How¾”  Once again, words failed him.  Wetting his lips, he tried to make sense of her presence.  Behind him he heard the soft tread of footsteps, informing him Shey Cutter had retreated to the foyer, allowing him privacy.  “Lorna, I¾”

“It’s a shock, I know,” she said, stepping nearer.  Attired in a foam-colored blouse, and sweeping skirt of forest green, she looked both earthy and divine.  The blouse was form-fitting, tailored to accentuate the firm swell of her breasts; the narrow pinch of her waist.  A blush of rose infused her cheeks with color, softening the glossy black veil of curls framing her face. 

Joe shuttered aside the distraction, disturbed by the warm heat her presence kindled in his body.  “Lorna, what are you doing here?”

“Shey wired me and asked me to come.”

“Shey?”  An image of his meddling friend sprang briefly to Joe’s mind.  Confused, he blinked.    “And you came¾just like that?”

Abruptly uncomfortable, Lorna looked at the floor.  “He said it was your birthday.”

“And that brought you all the way from the East Coast?”  Joe’s voice was suddenly hard.  Was this some sort of game his best friend and his ex-fiancée had devised at his expense?  No woman in her right mind uprooted herself and came halfway across the country on the strength of a telegram, unless¾

Unless she still has feelings for me.

“You’re leaving something unsaid,” he ventured at last.  He held his breath, then slowly exhaled as her eyes tracked to his face.  Her gaze was soft and apprehensive, the wishful glance of an awkward girl-child, not a woman ten years his senior. 

She glanced at the floor.  “The timing seemed right, and Shey told me about Callie.  We were acquainted many years ago, and I thought I’d like to see her again.  She’s been kind enough to put me up in town, until I decide¾”

“What?”  He pounced on the unspoken thought.

Slowly, Lorna shook her head.  “I don’t know, Joseph.”

The use of his full name sent an odd shiver coursing through him.  With effort he kept his hands at his side.  He ached to touch her . . . to feel the smooth satin of her skin beneath his fingertips; taste the heady wine of her lips on his.  But time and distance kept them awkward, like strangers stepping around something neither wanted to admit. 

Joe cleared his throat.  “Where’s Kevin?”

“Back east, with my aunt.”  Lorna hesitated, clearly as uncomfortable as he was.  Tugging a lace handkerchief from beneath the ruffled edge of her sleeve, she worked it nervously between her fingers. “I didn’t think it would be a good idea to bring him.  Perhaps later, if I decide to stay.”

The breath caught in Joe’s throat.  The shuddering lurch of his heart intensified in his chest as he dared to believe the impossible.  “Are you saying that’s likely?”

Determined, Lorna met his eyes.  “I’m saying you and I should talk, Joe.  I-I’ve had a lot of time to think about things, and¾”  Her fingers twisted on the handkerchief, bending and kneading the delicate lace into contorted shapes.  To Joe she seemed almost agitated, but he was too ensnared by her words, to pay her demeanor more than a passing thought.  “¾I may have made a mistake in leaving.  I-I may have made a mistake about us.”

Daring to believe the impossible, Joe strode across the room.  Restraining himself from touching her, he hovered just shy, staring down at her, eyes alight with a burgeoning thread of hope.  “Lorna, do you mean that?”

Her chest rose and fell as she shuttered away a deep breath.  Self-consciously her eyes dropped to the floor.  “I thought there would be someone else in your life by now,” she mumbled.

Emboldened, Joe touched her arm, gripping her just above the elbow.  He wanted to tell her there had never been anyone else, that he still loved her with the same passion he’d held on the day she’d left.  Yet he sensed her hesitation, and feared frightening her with the strength of his emotion.  He loved her too much to ruin the potential of a second chance, thus restricted his response accordingly.  “There’s no one else, Lorna,” he said sincerely.

For a fleeting instant, she seemed saddened by the admission, but as quickly as the emotion touched her face it died, and Joe could never be sure.  Smiling slightly, she placed her hand over his, where it rested on her arm.  “Perhaps we could have dinner together?” she suggested. 

“I’d like that,” Joe said simply.

It was a start.  Of what he wasn’t certain.  With effort, he tempered a rise of elation. Their emotions were fragile and brittle, and didn’t need the added complication of heartfelt reaction.  When Lorna suggested they meet later that evening, Joe readily agreed.  Emotions strung with the effort of containment, he escorted her outside to her rented buggy.

Only after she’d left, did he return to the house to find Shey Cutter.   

+++++

“I know, I know.”  Shey held up one hand as Joe re-entered the drawing room at a crisp pace.  Once Lorna had left, Shey had retreated to the ornate room, fully expecting an irate confrontation with his friend. “I can see it on your face, Cartwright.  I shouldn’t have meddled.”

Joe never stopped his straightforward stride, stalking determinedly for Shey.  “You conniving, interfering, devious¾”  Locking one arm around Shey’s neck he pulled him into a hug, “¾wonderful, good-as-gold, squirrelly excuse for a friend!”

“Huh?”

Shey popped out of the hug, as Joe released him with a laugh.   What the blonde-haired man had expected to be righteous anger on his friend’s part, amounted to relative good humor. 

Still grinning, Joe sprawled in a chair.  “I don’t know how you pulled it off Shey, but I can’t thank you enough.”

His back framed by the fireplace, Shey appeared wary.  “You’re not angry?”

“Angry?”  Joe’s face lit with an engaging grin.  “Why would I be angry?  Okay, I admit¾you had no right sticking your nose in my business, but you did it out of concern, right?”

“Uh, sure, Joe.”  Still not certain of his friend’s frame of mind, Shey approached cautiously, settling on the edge of the sofa.  He’d known Joe long enough, to know the other’s emotions changed with quicksilver alacrity¾one moment steady and smooth, the next crackling with brimstone.  In retrospect, he hadn’t expected this reaction at all.  The Joe he’d grown close with over the last year was more apt to bristle for the interference, then offer gratitude for the thought.  Is he really that far gone on Lorna?

Sitting forward, Shey braced his legs apart, lacing his hands between his knees.  Joe was still grinning like a delirious hobgoblin, legs sprawled out before him, staring up at the ceiling, with a distant look in his eyes.  “We’re having dinner tonight,” he said, as if that simple truth should send Shey dancing with glee.

Shey cleared his throat, intending to tether the other to earth.  “You know, Cartwright, she just said she’d come for a visit¾say hello to Callie; wish you a happy birthday.”

Suddenly acute, Joe’s gaze focused on Shey.  “What does that mean?” he snapped sharply. 

Hearing the riled edge of emotion in his voice, Shey sighed.  “It don’t mean nuthin’, Joseph.  I’m just pointing out, you shouldn’t get your hopes up¾”

“Who said I am?”  Gripping the arms of the chair, Joe sat bolt upright, planting his feet apart.  Both tone and posture betrayed his sudden belligerence. 

Muttering, Shey lowered his head, lacing a hand through his hair. 

“I didn’t hear that,” Joe snapped.

“Yeah, well, it’s better you didn’t.”  Irritated, Shey pushed from the sofa, “Look, Cartwright, I might have muffed up royally with this one¾you know what I’m saying?  I thought I was doin’ you a favor, but if that fine-bred filly leads you around on a nose-ring, I’m gonna be kickin’ my own hide clear to Christmas for the interference.”

“Then maybe you should just keep out of my business,” Joe retorted crisply, rising to his feet.

Hands on hips, Shey stared him down.  “It’s a little late for that, wouldn’t you say?”

Joe held his gaze, visibly bristling.  In just a short span his emotions had run the gamut from giddy high to edgy belligerence.  Another man might have stopped to consider the concern behind Shey’s words, but Joe had abandoned all rationally a long time ago when it came to Lorna David. 

Turning, he stalked from the house without a parting word.

+++++

The ride to the Ponderosa passed in a haze of distorted scenery for Joe.  Trees, rock and scrub brush all melded in an unfurling tapestry he barely saw.  Snow-capped mountains and craggy hillocks watched dispassionately as he struggled with his own inner demons.  Though he quickly dismissed Shey’s words, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from roaming to Lorna.  Her presence had awakened feelings he’d thought long buried.  Long, endless months in which he’d tried to put her out of his mind, even going so far as to entertain a number of failed relationships.  The painful truth was that he still loved her¾that he’d never healed from the bitter hole she’d gouged in his heart.  What will Adam think?

Unconsciously, Joe tightened his hands on the reins.  His relationship with Adam was oftentimes prickly and distant, despite the underlying love they shared for one another.  Lately that erratic relationship had been more on an even keel, but Lorna’s arrival was likely to change that.  Adam had loved her first.  Despite that relationship coming to an agreeable end, Joe couldn’t help but feel partially responsible.  In trying to protect the woman he knew his brother loved, he’d fallen in love with her himself.  It seemed an eternity ago he posed as her fiancée, hoping to dissuade her dead husband’s brother.  What had started out purely as a desire to assist, had ended in a confused mire of tangled emotions and raw feelings.  Unfortunately, for Joe, those feelings had never quite died.

The early spring sun was beginning to creep closer to the earth by the time Joe reached the ranch house.  There were a few chores he knew he should attend to, but his mind was on Lorna and the dinner date they’d set for that evening.  The stack of wood beside the barn still needed chopped, and he’d promised Ben he’d fix the hand crank on the kitchen well.  Would it really be so terrible to leave both until tomorrow?  

Ushering Cochise to her stall, Joe quickly stripped the horse of saddle and blanket, and gave her a quick rubdown.  He was halfway to the house when he saw the front door open and Hoss come tromping outside. 

“Hey, Joe!”  The big man’s face split in a gap-toothed grin as his slender brother approached.   “I thought I heard someone ride up.”  He waited until Joe was at his side, then clapped a hand on his shoulder, falling in step. “So tell me, little brother¾what’d that braggart friend of yours get you for your birthday?  Knowing Shey Cutter, I bet it’s somethin’ viper crazy¾like one of them fancy swords you’re always yammerin’ about, or a belled bridle for that durn spoilt horse of yours.”

Despite his mood, Joe spared a smile.  “You aren’t even close.”  

“Ain’t I?”  Hoss’s expressive face crumbled in bewilderment.  “If you tell me it’s something trite-simple like a pair of fancy spurs, I’ll choke that peacock, after all the caterwaulin’ he did ‘bout how special it was gonna be.”

Joe chuckled.  “Don’t worry, Hoss.  Shey outdid himself.”

“Well I sure don’t see you carryin’ nuthin.’”  Gripping his arm, Hoss pulled him to a halt as they stepped onto the porch.  Overhead, the roof slanted a wedge of bluish shadow onto the dusty ground, blotting the diminishing light from Joe’s eyes.  Disturbed by the concentration he saw in the other’s gaze, Hoss frowned.  “There’s something you ain’t telling me, Joseph.”

For a moment the younger man seemed troubled, but just as quickly the faint hint of anxiety left his face.  Joe grinned impishly.  “Darn right.  I’m not telling you what I got for my birthday.”

Leaving Hoss sputtering behind him, Joe beat a hasty retreat to the house.

+++++

Though he’d kept Hoss at bay, Joe knew he’d eventually have to tell his family about Lorna’s return.  He simply didn’t want to dredge up the turmoil he knew her presence was sure to cause.  Adam would likely retreat behind a stony mask, while Hoss grew solicitous, and Ben worried.  Joe anticipated enough problems of his own, juggling uncertain emotions, without having to sort his family’s into the mix.

Because he didn’t want to cause any problems likely to irritate his father, Joe managed to fix the crank on the well, and chop half the wood, before retiring to his room in preparation of his dinner date.  He bathed, shaved, and took time arranging his clothes¾something he rarely fussed over.  Though he considered donning his Sunday best blue suit, he feared the extra finery might make him appear over eager.  In the end, he settled for a clean pair of pants, crisp white shirt and immaculate black string tie.  Collecting his hat and jacket from the bed, he bounded downstairs, eager to escape with minimal confrontation.

+++++

“Joseph?”   Standing in the Great Room, studying the local paper, Ben glanced up at the clatter of hurried footsteps on the stairwell.  The sight of his youngest son, dressed for an evening out, made him tilt his head in speculation.  Folding the paper together, Ben let his arm drop limply to his side.  “Are you headed to town?”

A skittish smile flickered over Joe’s lips.  He cast a quick glance between his father, and Adam, who was seated in the wing chair by the fireplace.  Alerted by his choice of clothing and the small amount of cologne he’d applied, both men were clearly curious.  Stepping to the couch, Joe skimmed the brim of his hat through his hands.  “Uh . . . yeah, Pa.  Actually, I’ve got a date.”

“Oh?”  Mildly intrigued, Ben stuffed one hand into his pocket.  “That wouldn’t be your gift from Shey Cutter would it¾an evening on the town with another one of his ‘ladies?’”

Flushing, Joe ducked his head.  Briefly he wondered if he’d ever live down the practical joke Shey had played on him last spring, when his cavalier friend had sent him on a blind date with a prostitute.  Clearing his throat, Joe dragged a finger under his nose.  “No, Pa,” he assured, raising his head to meet his father’s level gaze.  Oddly, Ben’s question wasn’t too far from the truth, considering Shey had arranged Lorna’s arrival. 

“Mmm, hmm.”  Ben pressed his lips together noncommittally.  “This came up in an awful hurry, didn’t it?”

Fidgeting, Joe tugged a finger along the edge of the sofa.  He was acutely aware of Adam’s gaze, mildly interested, never wavering.  A trickle of anxious sweat broke out on the back of his neck.  “I took care of the well, Pa, and I’ll finish the wood tomorrow.  Most of it’s done.”  Exasperated, he squared his shoulders belligerently.  “I didn’t think riding to town required a family discussion.”

“Joseph,” Ben said sharply.

“I’m twenty-three years old, Pa¾”

“I’m well aware of that.”  Setting the paper aside, Ben approached his son.  His black-eyed gaze was a trifle too divining for Joe’s comfort.  Nervously, he studied the tips of his boots.  Relenting, Ben slid a hand on his shoulder.  “Hop-Sing is finishing up dinner.  I just didn’t realize you were going out.”

Joe shrugged.  “It came up unexpectedly.”

“While you were with Shey?”  Adam guessed.

Joe’s mouth thinned in a white line as the mercurial edge of his belligerence returned.  Immediately defensive, he tensed.  His problems with Adam were two-fold:  his brother had never been particularly fond of Shey, and worse¾he’d now likely  be a stumbling block in Joe’s renewed relationship with Lorna.  “What does it matter?”

Adam rolled his shoulders.  “Just curious.  Hoss said you didn’t want to tell him what Shey gave you for your birthday.”

“Hoss should keep his mouth shut,” Joe muttered darkly.

Concerned by the acid remark, Ben narrowed his eyes.  “Joseph?  Did you have a problem with Shey?”

“Of course not.”  Realizing the reply was much too sharp, Joe sighed and straightened his shoulders.  “Look, Pa, I just want to go to town.  Shey’s gift was kind of personal and I’d like to keep it that way for now.”

Though clearly not convinced everything was as it should be, Ben nodded.  “Have a good time,” he offered, giving the younger man an affectionate clap on the back.

With a crisp nod, Joe headed for the door.  Once outside, he breathed an audible sigh of relief.  Distressed to realize how tense he was, he tried to rationalize the behavior as he walked to the barn to ready the buggy.  Surely the anxiety he felt was caused by the prospect of spending the evening with Lorna.  Though every part of him desired to hold her intimately in his arms, he knew he’d have to tread lightly, allowing her to set the pace.  They’d been apart much too long to simply pick up the flame of passion, as though it had never been extinguished. 

The long ride to town allowed him to re-examine their relationship in detail¾every exquisite moment from their first introduction when Lorna had been so obviously enamored of Adam, to their heart-wrenching parting. Realizing his love for her was as strong as it had ever been, Joe swallowed hard. Was it possible she felt the same?

The thought remained as he rode into town, halting the buggy before Callie Garrett’s modest home.  Removing his hat, he nervously laced his fingers through his hair, then stepped onto the porch.  Momentarily holding his breath, he rapped his knuckles against the door.

“Joe¾come in.”  Callie Garrett smiled warmly as she opened the door, inviting him to step inside.  Though they’d known each other for almost a year now, he felt abruptly uncomfortable.  She was Shey Cutter’s on-again/off-again girlfriend, but more than that she was now Lorna’s confidante.  For as long as he’d known Callie, Joe had never realized the extent of her relationship with Lorna.  It made him uneasy to think the two women might have discussed him. That Lorna might have shared her feelings for him with Callie, expressing uncertainties he’d never be privy too. 

“Callie.”  His smile was tremulous, a trifle too forced.  “Is Lorna in?”

“She’s expecting you.”  Petite, with fawn-colored hair and gray eyes, Callie tossed off an engaging grin.  “Have a seat while I fetch her.”  Halfway from the room, she paused, turning to glance over her shoulder.  “And by the way, Joe¾the next time you see that irksome friend of yours, tell Shey Cutter, he’s long overdue in calling.  If I don’t hear from him soon, I’m going buggy riding with Cliff Thompson.”

“Sure, Callie, I’ll tell him.”  Distracted, Joe bobbed his head in agreement.  As Callie flitted out of the room, brightly humming some obscure melody, Joe glanced absently at his surroundings.  Though the furnishings were sparse, the room small, Callie had taken great care adding personal touches.  Lace doilies, fresh flowers, and a quilted afghan draped over a rocking chair, made the room seem warm and inviting.  Moving to the small sofa, Joe perched precariously on the edge. 

He thought it odd Shey Cutter had a woman so intent on becoming his wife, while Joe’s own love life was in shambles.  Unlike his friend, he craved marriage, but the woman closest to his heart, suddenly felt like a stranger.

“Hello, Joe.”

Mouth dry, Joe rose to his feet.  Lorna stood framed in the doorway, her dark hair pinned in loose curls against the back of her head.  Attired in a form-fitting, off-the-shoulder violet dress, embroidered with lavender lace, she looked elegant and poised.  A single amethyst stone hung suspended on a delicate silver chain around her neck, drawing attention to the low cut bodice of her snug gown.   

“Lorna¾”  Stepping forward, Joe extended his hand.  “You look¾” He couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling slowly over her body, lingering a trifle too long on her plunging neckline. “¾beautiful.”

“Thank you.”  With a demur smile, she extended her hand until their fingers touched. 

The contact of flesh on flesh was staggering.  The breath caught in Joe’s throat as unspoken attraction crackled between them.  Firmly gripping her hand, he pulled her closer, forgetting for the moment, time and complications separated them.  Raising his free hand, he smoothed his thumb over her cheek, entranced when she tilted her head to stare up at him.  Lightly skimming her jaw, he dropped his hand to the long, creamy column of her neck.  Before he knew what he was doing, his hand moved to her shoulder, forcing her against him, and he covered her mouth with his own.

She resisted at first, rigid in his embrace, until the commanding insistence of his lips made her mouth open beneath his.  Yielding, she pressed against him, the fit of her body as intimate and snug as he recalled. The blood spiked in Joe’s groin.  He groaned low in his throat, nearly undone by her sudden eagerness.  “Lorna¾” Breathing rapidly, Joe drew back, bending to trail his lips across her neck.  “Angel, do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?  How much I want you?”

“Joe please¾I have to talk to you.  I have to explain.”

“Explain what?”  The words were vague distractions¾random thoughts he mouthed as he continued to coddle her neck.  It didn’t help that she arched so willingly into his embrace, tilting her head to better feel the fiery trail of his lips¾that she pressed her breasts against his chest with all the eagerness of a woman craving seduction. 

Remembering Callie in the other room, Joe straightened, momentarily gaining control of his raging passion.  “Lorna¾” Voice husky, he rested his brow against hers, kissing the tip of her nose.  “I need to be private with you.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Trembling, she nodded.  Raising one hand she fingered the edge of his collar.  “Joe there is no place.  Callie’s here, and¾”

“Will you come with me to the Circle C?”

Startled, she glanced at him.

“Shey Cutter’s my closest friend.  You can trust him, Angel.”  Closing his eyes, Joe kissed her softly on the mouth.  Gently, he massaged her bare shoulder, letting his fingers trail lightly over her arm. Breathing deeply, he gripped her waist, pulling her intimately against him.  She gasped softly, responding to the prominent feel of distinctive male arousal.  If Callie were to walk into the room now, he’d be forced to drop his hat in front of his pants.  He couldn’t help the reaction.  Bottled emotion of twelve long months made him crave the intimate contact of her flesh, with the same passion as the unquenchable love in his heart.  “Lorna, I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.  Whatever you have to tell me, can wait.  It’s not going to change how I feel.”

Hesitating, she bowed her head against his shoulder.  “Joseph, I don’t want to mislead you.  When I saw you¾when you touched me . . . I want to be private with you as well, but¾”

“Then come with me to the Circle C.”

Relenting, she nodded. 

Relief and anxiety struck Joe simultaneously.  Tipping her chin up, he kissed her hungrily¾allowing the complex web of emotions nipping at his heart to wash over her in demanding wave after demanding wave.  Trembling, she clung to him, as eager for the intimacy as he was to give it.   When the kiss ended, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against his chest. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Joe.”

Gently, he stroked her back.  “You’ll never hurt me, Angel.” 

Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he led her outside to the buggy.  By the time they arrived at the Circle C, the sky was deepening with twilight.  Frothy silver stars emerged, scattered like dust on the darkening sky.  Deep blue, tinged with grape-purple at the edges, the broad expanse of heaven crowned Shey Cutter’s home like a jeweled circlet.  An imposing structure with white frontal columns, elevated porch, and Colonial lines, the two-and-a-half-story home looked nothing like a western edifice.  Seeing it now, the front windows ablaze with warm light, Lorna drew a breath.

“It’s very imposing, isn’t it?”

Flecking the reins, Joe grinned crookedly.  “Half the territory thought Lincoln Cutter was out of his mind, when he built it.  My Pa said he never outgrew his roots in the east, and wanted to bring part of that with him when he came west.”

Suddenly uncomfortable, Lorna nodded.  “I can understand that.”  Resting a hand on his arm, she refocused the conversation.  “I don’t remember you being friends with Shey when I was here before,” she observed conversationally.  “In fact, I was shocked to get the telegram from him.  As I recall, the two of you were hostile with each other.”

Joe shrugged.  “A lot happens in a year.”  The crunch of wagon wheels across grass and gravel filled a momentary silence.  Drawing the buggy to a halt in front of the house, Joe turned in the seat to look at Lorna.  “If Shey hadn’t written you¾”  Anxious, he wet his lips.  “Would you still have come?”

Her pause was marginal.  “Yes.”

A slow smile stretched Joe’s lips.  He grinned with dazzling charm, known to melt the staunchest woman’s heart.  In the soft, smoky glow of twilight, his eyes were dark green¾deep and dusky as a leaf-strewn forest floor.  Shadow and light sculpted the finely boned planes of his face, adding to the stark sensuality smoldering in his eyes.   

Hesitantly, Lorna fingered the edge of his hair where it rested against his collar.  “Joe, you’re still so young.  I know I said I wouldn’t let our ages make a different, but you’re ten years younger than I am, and you haven’t really lived¾”

Catching her hand, he brought it to his lips.  “I’ve lived enough to know what I want.  At this moment¾right now¾” He gazed steadily into her eyes.  “I want you.”

Lorna shivered.  A man didn’t talk to a woman like that.  Not a man who professed to be ethical and upstanding, who played the part of suitor in the courting dance deemed proper by society.  But Lorna had always been attracted to men who flaunted their sensuality.  From her first husband, to Joe, to Garrett¾

Distressed, she pushed the thought aside.  The past didn’t matter.  Like Joe, she was entrenched in the moment, controlled by the blatant, undeniable edge of his sheer masculinity.  Being away from him for so long in no way affected the influence he had over her.  What other woman would slip away in the night, seeking a bed in a stranger’s house for the sole purpose of intimacy?  Though her rational mind berated the slanderous behavior, and the unfairness of what she did to Joe, the other thrilled in anticipation of the moment to come.

Startled, she jerked as the front door swung open.  Alerted by the sound of the buggy, Shey Cutter stepped onto the front porch.

“Cartwright?  Is that you?”

Vaulting to the ground, Joe sent Lorna a quick smile.  His teeth flashed white in the darkness.  “Wait here.”

Before she could comment, he sprinted up the front steps, leaving her isolated in the buggy.

At the sight of his friend in string tie and pristine white shirt, Shey arched a brow.  “Ain’t you dressed just a tad showy for a social call?”

Catching Shey by the arm, Joe steered him away from the edge of the porch and the spray of yellow light slanting through the door.  “I need a favor, Shey.  Some privacy¾upstairs¾no questions asked.”

His jaw slack, disbelief spread quickly over Shey’s face.  “Are you out of your mind, Cartwright?  Do you know what your father would do to me, if he found out I let you have some sordid, improper love nest¾”

“Shey¾”

“¾under my nose?  This ain’t no brothel, Joseph.”

“Shey¾”

“I told you that filly was gonna string you along on a nose-ring.  Let a man think he can drop his drawers for a few minutes, and his brain’s suddenly on the same level as his backside.”

“Cutter!”  At the end of his rope, Joe wrenched Shey’s arm for the sheer satisfaction of force.  “First of all, my Pa isn’t going to find out.  Second, I’m in love with Lorna, so I don’t want to hear any off-color remarks about brothels and love-nests, and third¾” He inhaled deeply as if striving for patience. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Shey snorted.  Irked, he folded his arms over his chest.  “I suppose you want me to leave?”

“It wouldn’t hurt.  You could wander down to the barn and check the stock.”  Witnessing the flash of disgruntled irritation in the other’s eyes, Joe recanted his gruff demeanor.  “Look, Shey¾you did an incredible thing, bringing her back here.  I can’t even imagine how you found her, how you tracked her down.  But the fact is, she is here, and I’m still in love with her.  I came this close¾” Raising his hand, he held his thumb and index finger together. “¾to making her my wife.  I thought I could pretend, but I can’t.”

Scowling, Shey glanced to the buggy and the slim silhouette of the woman perched on the seat.  “What about her?”

“Right now she wants the same thing I do, and that’s a few hours of privacy in an upstairs bedroom.  She wouldn’t have come here¾I wouldn’t have brought her, unless I thought I could trust you."

Irritably glancing aside, Shey grumbled something unintelligible.  Lacing a hand through his straight blonde hair, he huffed out a breath.  “You’re worse than a brother, you know that?”

When Joe’s grin stretched to reveal the even line of his teeth, Shey stuffed his hands in his pockets and moodily stalked off the front porch.  “Evening, Miss David,” he called, passing the buggy on the driver’s side, then making his way down the unlighted path to the barn.  Grinning, Joe sprinted down the steps and offered a hand to Lorna.  Assisting her from the buggy, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close.

“I told you he was a good friend.”

“Hmm.”  Pressing a hand to his chest, she toyed with the end of his string tie.  “Sometime you’re going to have to tell me how you go from being enemies with a man, to having a friendship like that.”

“Sometime,” Joe agreed, kissing her softly. 

Inside the house, he led her upstairs, drawing her to the bedroom he used when he stayed nights rather than return to the Ponderosa.  Pausing inside the door, he lit the oil lantern, then trimmed the wick to low.  Warm light infused the room with a brassy glow, akin to the yellow glimmer of a late-day harvest sun.  Turning, he caught Lorna’s hand, pulling her firmly against him.

Suddenly shy, she pressed her fingertips to his chest, tilting her head to gaze into his eyes.  Beneath her fingers she felt the rapid race of his heart, the sharp rise and fall of his ribs.  When they’d met earlier today, she hadn’t envisioned the evening ending like this.  She had wanted to talk to him¾to explain what had happened in the east¾to discover whether or not he might still be able to love her . . . when he realized why she’d returned.

Pushing the unsettling thought from her mind, Lorna concentrated on the tantalizing feel of his body pressed to hers.  It reawakened memories of nights when they’d lain twined in each other’s arms, naked flesh melded to naked flesh¾of stolen moments and caresses when he’d stroked her skin to sensitized awareness. Despite his youth, he was ably skilled in the art of lovemaking¾a habit she only now realized she was prone to indulge.

Garrett too had been young, only twenty-five, but terribly experienced in a woman’s boudoir.  He’d known how to touch her in a manner that left her quaking for more.  Foolishly, she’d momentarily imagined herself in love with him, when he’d only been interested in a night or two of seduction.  That fatal mistake would likely cost them both, unless she managed to rectify the damage she’d done¾to Amherst Filmore, to Garrett¾and, mostly importantly¾to Joe.

The thoughts spun carelessly away as Joe pressed his lips to hers.  Yielding, she opened her mouth beneath his, inviting the hungry probe of his tongue.  With trembling fingers she tugged free his string tie, lightly flecking his collar, before easing open the top button of his shirt.  The heat of his lips ignited warm fire deep in her belly, coaxing her to arch suggestively in his embrace.  The track of his hands on her back was both gentle and firm, skimming the bare flesh of her shoulders, before dipping to the hooked closure of her dress. 

With a start, Lorna felt one closure slide free, followed by a second and a third.  Skimming his fingertips beneath her arm, Joe traced the neckline of her dress.  The open bodice gaped wide on her breasts, leaving ample room for his lingering touch.  Quaking in his embrace, she freed the remaining buttons on his shirt, eagerly pressing her palm to his chest.  His skin was smooth and warm, rigidly planned with taut muscle.  Hungering for more, she skimmed her fingers low beneath his belt, rewarded by an immediate shift in his body.  His mouth descended on hers, demanding and urgent.  One hand snagged in her hair, carelessly pulling free the pins, until loose curls spilled over her bare shoulders.  With a low groan, Joe urged her to the bed. 

Trapped in his control, Lorna no longer had the capacity to reason.  There was only abrupt need and hunger, shamelessly awakened by his ardent touch.  Their clothing was quickly shed, discarded among soft gasps and low moans of pleasure.  His body was as she remembered¾lean and deliciously muscled, plaited now with whispering shadow and the brass-soaked glow of a bedside lantern.  When he pushed her down on the bed, she welcomed the pressure of his knee forcing her legs apart.  Eager for his touch, she was surprised when he caught both of her wrists in a singular grip and pulled her arms above her head.  Breathless, she stared up at him.  His eyes were hooded and lash-heavy, burning with the smoky glow of pure passion.  Slowly he stroked her body, trailing brazenly slow fingertips over the rounded globe of her breast; the dip and swell of waist and hip; the quivering silken flesh of her inner thigh.  Lorna moaned aloud.   

She felt his lips against her ear, her neck, and then he was kissing her.  Freeing her arms, he slipped one hand behind her head, urging closer contact.  Responding, she wrapped her arms around his neck, slipping her fingers into the thick curling ends of his hair.  He shifted, and she quivered in anticipation of coveted intimacy.  Past and present converged as Joe carried her into that blissful union¾beyond shared memories and into the staggeringly pure ecstasy of the moment. 

Later, when she could think again¾when she drifted slowly back to concrete awareness, Lorna lay twined in Joe’s arms.  In the back of her mind she registered the quiet tick-tock of a steeple clock on the dresser.  Vaguely she wondered what time it was¾if Callie would fret over her absence, or if she could spare the luxury of properly reacquainting herself with Joe’s body. 

Smiling, she snuggled against his chest. “I’m not even back twenty-four hours and you’ve already managed to seduce me, Joe.”  Experimentally, she drew a lazy finger across his abdomen, pleased when he sucked in his breath.  “You have a knack for making me the center of gossip.”

“If that were true, I’d have gotten us a room at the hotel.”  Sparing a slit-eyed glance, Joe wrapped one arm around her shoulders.  “I’m in no hurry to take you back, Lorna.  We can stay here all night¾and get reacquainted.”

The pointed suggestion brought a flush of color to Lorna’s cheeks.  Though she was tempted to spend endless hours with him, luxuriating in the feel of his naked flesh pressed to hers, she knew it wasn’t practical.  More so, the prickly matter of why she’d returned to Virginia City and Joe Cartwright in the first place, remained unresolved.  The thought made her sober abruptly.

Dipping her head, she wet her lips.  “You should probably take me back to Callie’s.”

Sensing the change in her tone, the sudden tension in her body, Joe slipped a finger beneath her chin and forced her head up.  “Lorna, we haven’t even . . .”  He flushed with difficulty.  “We haven’t even talked.  I don’t want you to think because of what happened here, there’s nothing deeper between us.  My feelings for you haven’t changed.”

“Please don’t.”  Pushing away from him, Lorna sat forward, drawing the sheet to her breast.  “Everything is so . . . different.”  Forcing the word, she drew a shuddering breath.  She hadn’t wanted to admit the truth so soon, and certainly not after such intimacy.  Glancing over her shoulder, she plowed ahead while she retained the courage.  “You asked me if I would have come back regardless of Shey’s invitation and I told you I would¾but not for the reason you think, Joe.”

Something unsettled crossed his face.  Indecision and concern entered his eyes, shuttering aside the open animation of just moments before.  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Keeping the sheet wrapped around her, Lorna stepped from the bed.  “Would you give me some privacy while I dress?”

Frowning, Joe hesitated.  She knew he wasn’t one for patience.  He’d always reacted instinctively, existing on short, staggering bursts of emotion.  Watching him now¾the play of emotion on his face, Lorna knew he struggled to temper his own unstable reaction.  Relenting with a crisp nod, he pulled on his pants, gathered the rest of his clothes and exited the room.

Folding onto the edge of the bed, Lorna steepled both hands over her lips.  Did she truly love him, or had their ardent passion been nothing more than the unquenchable attraction of two healthy adults for one another?  A year ago she wouldn’t have questioned her feelings for him.  But a year ago there hadn’t been a refined blonde-haired man who made her weak in the knees, nor an overly zealous protector/benefactor named Amherst Filmore.  A part of her did love Joe, but the part she’d left in the east loved a fair-haired upper-crust gentleman named Garrett.  Unfortunately, wealthy and prominently placed in blue-blooded society, Garrett didn’t feel the same about her.

Tortured by the conflict, Lorna pushed from the bed and gathered her clothing.  She dressed slowly, blushing to remember the way Joe had touched her¾the way she’d writhed and moaned beneath his skilled caresses.  Was it possible one woman could love two men so passionately?  She’d once created a triangle between herself, Joe and Adam.  Was it possible even now, she created yet another between herself, Joe and Garrett?

Eventually she knew she’d have to tell Joe the truth.  Confide in him about Amherst Filmore and the hired guns he’d sent after her and Garrett.  But that would come later, when she knew where her feelings lay.  For now there was the chance of romance again, with a man she’d once loved as passionately as life itself.

Straightening her dress, Lorna gathered her composure and went in search of Joe.

+++++

The return trip to Callie’s home was mostly silent.  Afraid to question Lorna about what had brought her back to Virginia City, Joe allowed her the opportunity to speak on her own.  Declining to readdress the matter, she slipped her arm through his and snuggled against him on the front seat of the buggy.  While he enjoyed the sensation of her body nestled against his, he remained troubled by her behavior in the bedroom. 

When she did speak it was to discuss trivial matters¾her train ride from Baltimore, how different the climate was in the west, Kevin’s recent fascination with photography, the latest fashions deemed acceptable in the east.  Dropping into silence, she seemed contented by the mere contact of his body so close to hers.  When he turned his head, lightly brushing his lips across her crown, she made no move to draw away.  Later standing on Callie’s front porch, she tipped her head, inviting his kiss.  Breathless, she promised to see him again, but through it all Joe felt slightly unbalanced.

Restless, he chose to return to the Circle C rather than the Ponderosa.  Shey greeted him at the door, then wandered into the living room.  Plopping on the couch, the blonde-haired man braced both feet against the coffee table, boot heels hooked carelessly on the edge. “You look like a long-faced prairie mut, Cartwright.  Don’t tell me she ain’t all you remembered?”

Scowling, Joe dropped his hat on the table.  Retreating to a nearby chair, he sat on the edge, leaning forward and lacing his hands together.  “Keep it clean, Shey.  Nothing between Lorna and I has changed.”

“Uh-huh.”  Unconvinced, Shey rolled his eyes. “Seems to me she’s just a trifle too eager.”

“What does that mean?”

The fair-haired man scowled.  “Do I have to spell it out for you, Cartwright?  How many women you know, would hop into bed with a gent they ain’t seen in a year?”

Joe’s face darkened.  “I told you to keep it clean.”

“Yeah, I know.”  Dropping his feet to the floor, Shey sat forward.  “And there you go gettin’ all hostile aggressive.  You know, Joseph, if I’d had an inkling that femme fatale was gonna turn you into such an ornery cuss, I would’ve left her battin’ her eyelashes in Baltimore.”

Joe smiled tightly.  “It wouldn’t matter.  She told me she would have come back even without your invitation.”

Shey snorted.  “A woman will say anything she thinks a man wants to hear.”  Standing, he crossed to a small table near the fireplace and poured himself a shot of brandy.  Raising the decanter, he offered it to Joe, who shook his head.  “Guess I’m just a tad skeptical of most women.”

“Is that why you keep putting off Callie?”  Joe asked, changing the subject.  From the start, Shey had never been particularly fond of Lorna, and he didn’t like the added suspicion in his friend’s voice.  It was easier refocusing the conversation, than allowing it to degenerate into something unpleasant.

“Who says I’m putting her off?”  With a grimace, Shey tossed down the brandy.

Joe watched as he poured another glass, carelessly sloshing some of the liquid over the side.  “She’s threatening to go riding with Cliff Thompson unless you start calling again.”  Pausing, he considered his friend before blundering ahead.  “You know, Shey¾not every marriage ends bad.”

With a distracted grunt, Shey Cutter paced to the window.  Watching him, Joe was reminded of Shey’s unwillingness to talk about his mother.  She’d initiated her own fate many years ago, when she chosen to run off with a card-sharp, leaving Lincoln Cutter with a floundering ranch and two young boys.  It was no wonder Shey was so distrustful of women.

“I ain’t skittish about marriage, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Shey said to the window.  In the night-blackened pane, Joe could see his friend’s reflection¾the sharp, angled lines of his face, the heavy straight strands of his moon-pale hair.  “I just ain’t sure Callie’s the one.”    Glancing over his shoulder, he crooked a half-smile.  “Kind of odd, huh, Cartwright?  You dead set on marrying that eastern filly, and me dead set on holdin’ Callie at bay.  What do you think your Pa’s gonna say¾hell, what do you think Adam’s gonna say about Lorna coming back?”

Joe bit his lip.  Shey was just as skilled at turning conversation as he was, when he didn’t like the direction it headed.  Uncomfortable, he shrugged.  “I don’t know.”  Standing, he smoothed his hands over his pants and exhaled.  The ride back to the Ponderosa was by no means a short one and it was already dark outside.  “I should probably go,” he said directly.

Turning his back to the window, Shey propped a shoulder against the glass.  “You don’t have to cut and run, Joe.  I’ve boarded shabbier rubes than you.”

“Yeah, I know.”  Retrieving his hat, Joe laced a hand through his hair, then settled it on his head.  “But I wouldn’t want to outstay my welcome, when I might have need of that room upstairs again.”

Puffing out his cheeks, Shey smiled tartly.  “Next time I’m gonna charge you by the hour.”

Joe chuckled.  “Next time I’ll wait till you’re in town.”  Pausing, he cast his friend a serious glance.  “Thanks, Shey.  For everything.”

Pointedly, Shey arched a brow.  “See if you still feel that way a few days from now when your uppity goddess decides whether or not she’s gonna stay.”  With a scowl he tossed down the remainder of his brandy.  “Now get the hell out of here, Cartwright.  I got my own problems.”

With a knowing grin and a backward wave of his hand, Joe left his friend to ponder a slender brunette named Callie and the ever troubling prospect of marriage.

+++++

Normally a late sleeper, the anticipation of seeing Lorna again had Joe up and active the next morning, before the rest of his family even awoke.  Unusually restless, he finished chopping the firewood he’d left half-completed the day before, then made a stop at the barn to check on Cochise.  Satisfied the mare had feed and water, he wandered back to the house, venturing inside just in time for breakfast.

The dark aroma of freshly brewed coffee drew him to the table, just as Adam and Hoss descended the steps.  Noting the look of sluggish surprise on Hoss’s broad face, Joe chuckled appreciatively.  “What’s the matter big brother¾a little too early for you?”

Seated at the table, Ben cast all three a speculative look.  “He’s probably as surprised as I am to see you this early, Joseph.  Especially considering you got home rather late last night.”

Shrugging, Joe pulled out his chair, then reached for the nearest platter of food.  Forking a mound of scrambled eggs onto his plate, he tried to appear nonchalant.  “I didn’t think you noticed.”

Yawning, Hoss dragged a hand over his face.  “Must have been some hot date.”  Stretching, he hooked both hands together, raising them above his head, making a showy effort of sloughing off the morning’s torpor.  “What’dya think, Adam?”  Deflating like a hot air balloon, he exhaled loudly, then promptly confiscated the eggs from Joe.  “I’m bettin’ our little brother found a pretty face to spark.  And I’m bettin’ Shey Cutter had somethin’ to do with it.  Joe still ain’t told us what Shey got him for his birthday.” 

Raising one eyebrow, Adam sipped his coffee.  “If it involves Cutter, it’s bound to be something we’re all going to regret.”

“Adam.”  Ben’s glance was reprimanding and dark.  Sometimes he felt like he was walking a tightrope, trying to balance the interactions of three sons with varying personalities.  Hoss was the amiable peacekeeper, Adam, the moody loner, and Joe, the quick-tempered extrovert.  The wrong word cast in Joe’s direction could easily ignite the sharp, caustic edges of his mercurial personality.   Shey Cutter was a continual thorn between Adam and Joe, despite Adam’s strained attempts to accept the unusual friendship.

Oddly enough, it appeared Adam’s muttered comment regarding Shey had gone unnoticed by Joe.  Ben’s youngest son seemed preoccupied, pushing potatoes and eggs around his plate with a rambling fork.  Bottom lip tucked between his teeth, dark hair rumpled and ragged with curls, he looked barely out of his teens, rather than a man just turned twenty-three.  Realizing something was not quite right, Ben looked steadily at his son.

“Did you have a nice time last night, Joe?” he asked casually.

“Huh?”  Joe’s head came up with a jerk.  A skittish smile flitted over his lips.  “Uh, sure, Pa . . . it was great.  It’s just that¾”  Swallowing hard, he looked from Ben to Adam and Hoss, then back again.  “I was thinking . . . you probably should know what Shey did for my birthday.  I mean, sooner or later . . . well . . .”  The smile returned, flighty like before, with distinct nervous edges.

Concerned, Ben leaned forward, bracing his arm against the table edge.  “Joe, is something wrong?”

“No.”  Sitting straighter, he cleared his throat.  “Actually it’s the opposite.”

Intrigued, Adam looked at him directly.  “What did Cutter give you?”

Joe swallowed hard.  “Lorna.  Lorna David.” 

In the moment of stunned silence that followed, the air hung close and oppressive.  Ben watched the play of emotion on his youngest son’s face¾from unyielding deliberateness to eager solicitation.  As quickly as Joe made the announcement, he rushed to explain.

“Shey tracked her back east and asked her to come to Virginia City.” With an uncertain glance, Joe looked from Adam to Ben.  “He arranged for her arrive on my birthday.  That’s who I was with last night.  I, um . . . thought you should know.”

With a muttered curse, Adam glanced at the table. 

Immediately Joe tensed.  “Don’t ruin this for me, Adam.”

Disgusted, the older man stood and dropped his napkin over his plate.  “I’ve got work to do,” he muttered. 

Irked, Joe pressed his lips together.  “You see, Pa,” he complained as his brother left the room.  Within moments the front door banged shut, informing them Adam had stalked outside.  “I try to be honest by admitting she’s in town, and that’s how he reacts.  I’m not gonna let Adam ruin this.”

Holding up a hand, Ben tried to stave off the outburst.  “Let’s just take things slowly, Joseph.  The fact that Lorna’s back in Virginia City, doesn’t mean¾well . . . I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

With a disgusted grimace, Joe shook his head.  “I’m a big boy, Pa.  I can take care of myself.  And¾” he added with a deliberate glance for both Ben and Hoss, “¾my own love life.  Excuse me.”

Pushing from his chair, Joe left the room.

+++++

Bracing his arms against the top bar of a split-rail fence, Shey Cutter watched as his head wrangler worked on gentling a blaze-faced cow pony.  It always seemed odd to him that “gentling” implied something serene, while the actual task of breaking a wild mustang was grueling for both man and animal.  This cow pony¾a modest 12 hands¾was quickly nearing the end of its endurance, after being bridled and hobbled, then released through a punishing, bucking ride.  Shey knew it was the third day the wrangler had worked with this particular horse, and the pony was almost to the point of submission.  Attempting to teach the animal to ignore unexpected sounds and motions, the rider hazed it with a rain slicker, then rode to a standstill.

“He’ll be a good one,” Rob Falcon, Shey’s foreman, said at his side.

With a curious glance, the blonde-haired man smiled.  “Horse or wrangler?”

Falcon chuckled.  “Both.”  Pausing, he nodded to an approaching rider.  “I think you got company, Boss.  Look there¾”

Shielding his eyes against the glare of early morning sunlight, Shey followed Rob’s direction.  A rider had just broached the horizon, approaching at a clipped pace.  As he drew nearer, Shey frowned, realizing the upcoming confrontation was likely inevitable.  Muttering darkly, he told Rob to keep the wranglers working, then stepped away from the corral to greet his visitor in private.

Huffing out a resigned breath, Shey pushed his hat back on his head.  “Morning, Adam,” he said as the older man drew abreast. 

Drawing rein beneath a large ash tree, Adam dismounted.  His face was grim as he looped the reins over a low-hanging branch.  Judging by his set expression, Shey guessed the visit was far from social.  “So,” he said with a flippant grin, “I’m guessing Joe told you who he spent the night entertaining.”

Facing him belligerently, Adam placed his hands on his hips.  “You’ve got rocks in your head, Cutter.  How could you ask her back here, knowing how Joe feels about her?”

“Whoa¾” Holding up both hands, Shey pressed his lips together.  “I’m bettin’ this has more to do with how you feel about her.”

“You’re wrong,” Adam snapped.  Above his head the wind moaned through the branches of the tree, awakening the creak of aged timber.  “I might have had feelings for her once¾maybe even right up until the point when she left.  But a lot happens in a year.”  Frowning, he shook his head.  “I’m thinking of Joe, Shey.  This is going to end up hurting him worse than before, if she leaves again.”

Uncomfortable, Shey shrugged.  Overhead the branches sighed and moaned, making him concentrate momentarily on the sudden nipping gusts of wind.  The sky, though cloudless and blue, was rimmed with a dark edge on the horizon.  “So maybe she won’t leave,” Shey ventured awkwardly, as abruptly unsettled as the distant storm. 

Disgusted, Adam shook his head.  “You’ve got a real knack for causing havoc with my brother, you know that Cutter?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I don’t understand the two of you,” Adam exploded.  Stalking to the tree, he wrenched the reins from the branch.  “Every time I think I’ve got you figured out¾that maybe you aren’t the idiot I thought you were¾you do something so confoundedly stupid, I’m convinced you’re really playing some insidious game and you’re out to nail Joe’s hide to the wall.”

“Listen, Cartwright¾”

“No, you listen!”  Wrenching around, Adam stabbed a finger in his face.  “You might have thought you were doing Joe a favor, but I guarantee you this ridiculous stunt is going to backfire.  I know Lorna.  She’s going to leave again and he’s going to be worse off than before.  When that happens, you better be ready to pick up the pieces.”

Swinging up onto his horse, Adam reeled the animal around.  Disturbed, Shey watched him vanish in a cloud of dust and debris, kicked up by the backlash of his stallion’s hooves.  Biting his lip, he glanced again at the sky.  He hadn’t really considered what was involved when he’d hired the Pinkerton agent to track Lorna David.  He’d just known he’d wanted to do something special for Joe¾a friend who was confounding and confusing, closer than his own brother had been, and yet, up until a year ago, a bitter enemy.  A normal gift hadn’t seemed appropriate for that kind of unorthodox friendship.  He’d searched until he’d found the one thing he thought would make Joe happy.  But Adam was right¾

Lorna David was bound to bring another storm.

+++++

Stepping from the post office, Adam slipped a handful of letters into his saddlebag.  He’d decided on the spur-of-the-moment trip to town, simply as a means to cool down after his confrontation with Shey.  It had taken every ounce of control he possessed not to strike his brother’s friend.  Somewhere in the confused, heated muddle of his thoughts, he knew Shey meant well, but that realization was buried beneath the foolishness of what the younger man had done.

It was difficult adjusting to Joe’s friendship with Shey.  For too long Adam had viewed Lincoln Cutter’s youngest son as nothing more than a bully and a troublemaker.  He’d spent a good part of his youth patching up Joe’s bloody noses and cuts, most of them courtesy of his brother’s run-ins with Shey and his gang.  When they’d gotten past school age, the brawls had become more violent, and Adam recalled a time or two when he’d been tempted to take Shey apart for fighting unfairly.  Reconciling that same Shey Cutter¾the foul-mouthed youth who thought nothing of jumping Joe from behind, or fighting when Joe was outnumbered¾with the suddenly respectable rancher who professed unshakable friendship with his brother, was next to impossible.  Though Joe had adapted quickly, proclaiming Shey his closest friend, Adam remained distrustful and often annoyed.  It wasn’t in his place to become involved, but he’d spent the last year witnessing first-hand what Lorna’s departure had done to Joe.  It was true what he’d told Shey¾his own feelings for the dark-haired woman had waned with the passing of time.  There remained a minute fondness, but he had no desire to renew his relationship with her.

With a glance down the street, Adam considered the hour.  It was too early to visit the saloon, though he was sorely tempted.  Deciding on breakfast and a cup of coffee, since his own early meal had been interrupted, he headed for the hotel.  Stepping indoors, he removed his hat, dusting it against his pants.  He could see into the rear room where early-rising patrons already occupied a handful of tables.  As he started for the dining area, a conversation at the registry desk drew his attention.

“Did you say Lorna David?”

Halfway across the room, Adam stopped, drawn by the uncertainty in the desk clerk’s voice. 

“That’s right.  She might have gotten into town a few days ago.”  The man who waited to register was tall and thin, with straw-colored side-whiskers and shaggy flaxen hair.  His mouth was heavy and thick-lipped, his eyes lusterless and gray.  Dressed in a shabby, dust-covered suit, he appeared to have just arrived in town.  A well-worn saddlebag was thrown over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” the desk clerk said.  “We’ve no one staying here by that name, but you’ll find your room at the top of the stairs.”

Scowling, the stranger collected his room key and turned.

“Excuse me.”  Stepping to his side, Adam studied him directly.  “I couldn’t help over-hearing your conversation.  Did you say it was Lorna David you’re looking for?”

Dull eyes narrowing in marked suspicion, the stranger nodded.  “You know her?”

Feigning cordiality, Adam smiled briefly.  “I’m Adam Cartwright.”  He extended his hand.  “I didn’t get your name.”

Pausing longer than socially acceptable, the man shook hands.  “Hal Cooper.”

“How do you know Lorna?”

“A friend.  From back east.”  The gray eyes narrowed further.  “You didn’t answer me¾do you know her?”

“I did.”  Glancing over his shoulder, Adam looked to the dining area as though he was impatient for breakfast, and was only making idle conversation.  “She used to live around here¾somewhere at the end of town.  She left for Baltimore about a year ago.”  Pressing his lips together he smiled toothlessly.  “Want to join me for coffee?”

“No thanks.”  The words were curt and distinctly unfriendly.  Scowling, Cooper looked Adam over from head to toe.  “If you hear anything, I’m in room five.  It’s important I see Lorna, so I’m willing to pay for any information you can give.”

Adam feigned ignorance.  “She’s not in trouble, is she?”

“Course not.  Just friends back east lookin’ out for her.”  With a tip of his hat, the man turned and walked up the steps.  Adam stood staring after him, disturbed by both his presence and his interest in Lorna.  Thankfully the desk clerk had only recently arrived in Virginia City himself, and thus knew nothing about Lorna David or her involvement with the Cartwrights. 

Puffing out his cheeks, Adam exhaled.  Was it possible the woman who had caused his brother so much grief, was bringing trouble yet again?

+++++

Anxious, Lorna bit her lip.  Steam from her morning tea rose and warmed her face, but it couldn’t disperse the troubling edges clinging to her thoughts.  Sunlight streamed through a nearby window, spattering the small table with bright yellow squares, each perfectly formed cube, broken by a sliver of shadow from the lattice framework on the glass.  Twirling a spoonful of honey into her tea, Lorna raised the cup to her lips and stared across the table at Callie.  “I shouldn’t have told you,” she said despondently.

Callie wet her lips.  “You needed to tell someone,” she managed, though she was clearly uncomfortable.  Glancing at the teacup resting neatly in her hands, she struggled to point out the obvious.  “Lorna, you have to tell Joe the truth.”

“That’s the problem,” the older woman persisted.  “I don’t know what the truth is!”

Frustrated, Callie sat straighter.  “You just told me you’re in love with Garrett.”

“Garrett has no feelings for me,” Lorna admitted miserably.  “He was just a dashing, sensual man who I encountered on a whim.  We spent two weeks together while he was in Baltimore.  I fell in love with him from almost the very start, but he made it plain, he wasn’t interested in a relationship.

“And that’s when Amherst Filmore grew possessive?”  Callie guessed.

Sighing, Lorna leaned back in the chair.  “More than possessive¾he became downright vindictive.  I don’t know what happened, Callie.”  Attempting to sort through the muddle of the past year, Lorna set her cup on the table and fingered the edge of the saucer.  “I didn’t know anyone when I first arrived in Baltimore¾just my aunt.  Amherst was an acquaintance of an acquaintance.  I thought he was charming and kind.  And he was so much older than me, I looked on him as a father more than anything else.”

“Yet all that time he was growing enamored of you,” Callie said intuitively.

Sadly, Lorna nodded.  “I didn’t notice at first.  He was more of a protector and benefactor.  He did things for me¾bought things for Kevin¾small things, so I let it be.  We had dinners together, and took an occassional day trip in his carriage.  Maybe I was encouraging him, but I honestly thought his attentions were innocent.”

Callie snorted none too delicately.  She’d spent enough time in a brothel¾if only as a seamstress and domestic helper, to realize men never did anything innocently.  Motive was the keyword when a man lavished attention on a woman.  She couldn’t believe someone of Lorna’s age and past experience¾having worked as a dance hall girl, and once been married to a notorious gunslinger¾could be so utterly naïve.  Then again, Callie thought, biting her lip.  Maybe she’s not.

“When Amherst found out about Garrett, that’s when everything turned ugly,” Lorna continued, oblivious to Callie’s musing.  “I tried to convince him that Garrett wasn’t serious about me¾that it was just a romantic fling, but he’s dead set on making Garrett pay.  He’s hired a killer to track and murder him.”

“And Shey’s telegram arrived at the same time all this was going on?”  Callie shook her head in disbelief.  She wanted to rattle her friend¾to tell her to stop toying with the affections of the men in her life, but she played the part of sympathetic companion.  Perhaps if she found the right words, Lorna would admit the truth to Joe.

“Yes.  The timing couldn’t have been better.  Garrett came west himself¾something to do with an inheritance.  I sent a letter to him in California, but I’m afraid he won’t take it seriously.  Aside from which¾he’s an eastern-bred gentleman¾a college graduate.  He wouldn’t stand a chance against a hired gun.”

Callie felt a flush of irritation on the back of her neck.  “But Joe would?”

Realizing how horrible it sounded, Lorna pressed a hand to her lips.  “I just want Joe to go with me to talk to Garrett . . . until I can convince him the danger is real.  I need the protection.  Garrett needs the protection.”

“So basically you want Joe to risk his life so you can see the man you love?”

“Callie, don’t be so cruel!”  Pushing from the chair, Lorna paced to the window.  Wringing her hands together, she turned to face her friend.  “I don’t know who I love¾that’s the problem.  After last night¾”  Flushing, she lowered her lashes.  “When I was with Joe, all those feelings came back.  I’m afraid I might still be in love with him.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“No.  It’s just . . .” Her voice trailed away in remorse.  “ . . . I’m confused.”

Mouth settling into a thin, white line, Callie stood.  “I don’t mean to be blunt, Lorna¾but you can’t afford to be confused.  It isn’t fair to Joe Cartwright.  Particularly if anything you’ve done, or plan to do, is going to place him in danger.”

“You make it sound like I don’t care.”

“It isn’t that,” Callie returned flatly.  “It’s just that I do.”

Setting aside her teacup, Callie left Lorna to mull over the matter.  Whatever the older woman decided, Callie’s mind was already made up.  She’d likely incur the wrath of both her friend and Joe, but she valued Joe Cartwright’s friendship too much to remain an impartial observer.  Though she loathed the role of gossip, she already knew she’d have to tell Shey.  After all¾he was responsible for bringing Lorna to Virginia City in the first place.

Knowing Shey as she did, it was inevitable the truth would get back to Joe. 

And that was exactly as she intended.

+++++  

By mid afternoon, Joe was sweaty and grimy from clearing the overgrowth off a stretch of land bordering Flatrock Creek.  He’d been stuck and prickled by brambles and jagged branches, all tangled together in a bristling, skeletal knot of dead growth, more times than he cared to count.  Dragging the back of one hand across his brow, he mopped aside a clinging film of perspiration, then settled his hat more comfortably on his head.  

The air was sticky and close, perpetrating an eerie kind of stillness as the sun slid behind a gathering mass of clouds.  The ragged path of an advancing storm scuttled across the southern sky, growing closer by the minute.  Impending rain weighed heavily in the air, hanging oppressively overhead in bulging blue-black clouds. 

Joe stopped long enough to retrieve his canteen from the rear of the buckboard he’d brought from the Ponderosa.  The rickety wagon contained all manner of tools¾hatchet, ax, shovel, pick, saw¾all carelessly strewn over the rear bed.  Perching on the lip of the wagon, Joe let his legs dangle off the back as he considered the nearby creek.  Rushing water sputtered over jutting rock, frothing white then subsiding in smooth eddies and green-purple rings that gradually dissipated in the moving stream.  At the creek edge, dense brush had gathered in thick clumps, jutting outward to create a barrier in the gentle flow of water.  He’d toiled most of the morning with the obstruction, hacking back the gnarled growth, most of it dry and brittle, some still thriving where nutrient-greedy roots sank into receptive soil.   

Preoccupied, his mind wandered to Lorna and the exquisite night they’d spent at the Circle C.  Just recalling their heated lovemaking brought a warm flush to his face.  Immersed in his thoughts, Joe didn’t hear Shey approach, until his friend was almost on top of him. 

“So this is the lazy kind of work you do,” Shey commented blithely, tethering his horse nearby then casually sauntering to the wagon.  Thumbing his hat back on his head, he placed his hands on his hips and considered the creek with its accompanying tangle of overgrowth.  “I guess it’s better than cookin’ your flesh on the branding fires.”

Joe’s mouth turned in a wry grin.  “What do you want, Cutter?”

Shrugging, Shey perched on the opposite side of the wagon.  One foot dangled free over the edge, the other braced resolutely against the ground.  A sudden gust of wind kicked small bits of debris from the earth and scattered the long bangs on his brow.  “Slow day at the Circle C.  Thought I’d see what you’re doing.”

Joe chuckled dryly.  “Does that mean you’re gonna help me for a change?”

“That means¾Joseph¾I’ve got free time on my hands.  I might even wander in town and visit that lady friend of yours.”

Slapping the cork into his canteen, Joe tossed the round-bellied flask aside.  It landed with a gurgle, settling beside a thick-handled ax and pick, the latter’s pointed tip encrusted with clumps of dirt and grass.  Tilting his head, Joe grinned crookedly.  “You fancy my woman, Shey?”

The blonde-haired man snorted.  “Don’t be an idiot, Cartwright.  I just thought I’d have a chat with her.”  Pausing, Shey bit his lip.  “Thought I might ask her about someone named Garrett.”

Sensing a change in the conversation, Joe narrowed his eyes.  Shey’s tone had altered, and like the impending storm, it warned of something not entirely pleasant.  “Who?”

With an exasperated sigh, Shey pushed from the wagon.  “Look, Joe¾Callie told me some stuff.  It ain’t gonna be easy for you to hear, but I think you should know what’s goin’ on.”

Expression suddenly guarded, Joe pressed his lips into a flat line.  “What are you getting at?”

Unable to contain himself, Shey blurted the whole miserable truth he’d just recently learned from Callie.  Not one for finesse, he told the tale flatly, without thought of sparing Joe’s feelings.  Never pausing, he rattled off Lorna’s involveme