Love's Labours

by

Lissa B.

This story is dedicated to Alex Sharp, with many thanks for some of my favorite and fondest Bonanza memories. Special thanks to my long-suffering (and I do mean LONG-suffering!) betas:

Gus Downey, Jan McDonald and Debby Warren. November 2000

Chapter 1: Much Ado About Everything

"O! What men dare do! What men may do! What men daily do not knowing what they do!"

IV, i, 35

"It's not what you think..." began Joe Cartwright ingenuously, proffering his most innocent, boyish smile.

His brother shifted his weight to his hip and studied him through suddenly narrowed eyes. "Good. Glad to hear it. Just to be clear, then. What do I think?"

Joe cleared his throat, glancing at his middle brother for support, but Hoss was gazing with profound intensity at some point across the room. The boyish smile faded just a smidge. "You think we're goofing off." The tone was wounded and faintly reproachful.

His oldest brother raised his brows and nodded approvingly. "Very good. That's exactly what I think." He pulled out one of the capacious leather chairs facing the desk where Joe and Hoss were seated and made himself comfortable. "Why don't you clear up that little misconception for me?" He leaned forward expectantly and pinned Joe with a look. "What is it that you are doing?"

Joe opened his mouth to give a flip response, but it withered under the sardonic beam of his brother's penetrating gaze. "Fixing that line of north fence." he answered lamely.

"Really." Adam let his eyes drift slowly around the great room with pointed thoughtfulness. "From here." Despite his intention to remain unflustered, Joe felt his ears redden. "Well, that's very ingenious of you. Considering that stretch of fence is over an hour's ride away. How are you managing that, did you say?"

Joe stuck out his lower lip, all pretense of charm gone. What was the point. It never worked on Adam anyway. He was eighteen years old, for Pete's sake - how was it that his eldest brother always made him feel like he was six? He glanced at Hoss again, but Hoss's brow was furrowed as though he were working out a very tough problem deep within his brain. Joe glared at him. A lot of help he was. "We were just taking a break." he mumbled finally.

"A break." repeated Adam slowly. "You rode all the way back here to take a break and then planned on riding all the way back out there to finish?"

"Now, it ain't like that at all, Adam." Hoss interjected hastily. "That'd-a been plumb loco! We ain't actually made our way to that line a fence yet - we came here straight from fetching supplies in town." The moment he finished it occurred to Hoss that the words weren't likely to have the soothing effect he'd been angling for when he'd started. His brother's smoldering expression told him that he was not mistaken.

"Are you telling me," began Adam with dangerous calm, "that you have not even begun the work on that fence yet? That, in fact, you have not even been anywhere near it?"

Hoss winced at his tone and offered a weak smile. "Adam, that's where we was goin' the very next thing."

Adam opened his mouth to answer, closed it abruptly, pushing himself explosively to his feet. For a second both Hoss and Joe flinched expectantly, but he moved away from them to take a turn around the room, swung back to face them, pointing his finger for emphasis, then dropped his finger and waved his hand dismissively. He turned his back to them for a long moment, rubbing his hand over his face while Hoss and Joe held their breath. When he finally turned back his expression was that of a man steeled for the worst. "All right." he said slowly, enunciating meticulously. "Slowly and clearly. Exactly what have you two been doing?"

Hoss eyed him cautiously, but Joe jumped in eagerly. "Adam, you're gonna to love this. Hoss and me had a great idea. We've all been working hard at the branding, right?"

"Almost made ourselves crazy with it." Hoss chimed in.

"Well, we were thinking - what if we gave a party - to thank all the men - you know - a big party and invited - oh - a whole bunch of people - "

"That's right, Adam." Hoss took it up. "We could have music and dancing...and invite - well - a whole bunch o' people."

Adam looked puzzled and wary. "A party." he repeated slowly.

Joe bobbed his head for emphasis. "That's right, Adam - the best darn party this town has ever seen. We could invite - well - just all kinds of people - "

"All kinds of people." Hoss echoed enthusiastically.

"Exactly." agreed Joe. "All kinds."

Adam held up a hand. "All kinds of people. I see. You wouldn't, by any chance, have anyone special in mind?"

Hoss reddened. "Well...now..." he began stupidly, glancing at Joe.

Joe glared at him and took over quickly, trying to summon a nonchalant smile and succeeding only in looking a little queasy, "Well, now, Adam - nobody special. You know. The men. Neighbors. Friends. Townspeople. Neighbors."

"Uh - huh." Adam nodded slowly. "Let me just take a wild leap in the dark - " he held up a hand again as Hoss and Joe opened their mouths to protest. "Please. Don't embarrass yourselves. If there's someone - or, as I'm assuming, two someones, you have a burning desire to impress, I'm sure Pa'll have no objection to your little party. But for now, we have plenty to occupy us and I don't want to find you two goofing off again, understood?"

Hoss and Joe exchanged a cautious glance. Hoss cleared his throat. "Uh - Adam - we was athinkin' ta have it afore Pa came back."

Adam raised his eyebrows. "Before."

Joe could see the party disappearing before his very eyes and pushed a little. "We've had parties before without Pa here."

"Of course we have, occasionally, but at least then we've had Hop Sing. What were you planning to do about food?"

For a second both Hoss and Joe looked nonplussed. With beautiful visions of dancing and strolls in the moonlight floating before their eyes they had completely forgotten about a measly detail like food. Adam smiled a little, comprehendingly. Hoss must really have it bad for somebody to overlook a thing like that.

"Miss Mamie!" said Joe suddenly. "Miss Mamie can always use the extra cash and she cooks great! We can ask her to prepare stuff and bring it here the day of the party!"

"You're going to haul it all the way from town? No telling what kind of shape it will be in by the time it gets here."

"Hop Sing's cousin!" interjected Hoss hopefully. "I'll bet Hop Sing's cousin will come out and cook fer us!"

Adam shook his head as though to clear it. He couldn't believe he was getting sucked into this when they had so much to do. "All right. And where are we going to get the money for this party?"

Both Hoss and Joe stared at him. Joe shrugged. "Well, from the safe. Where else?"

Adam leaned back against the dining room table. "No, you don't. That money is for operating expenses and emergencies and has to last us until Pa returns."

"Oh, come on, Adam - you have power of attorney. You could get a draft from the bank if we had an emergency."

"I could, but I won't. Believe it or not, we operate on a budget and I'm not going to throw it all out of whack because you two have a couple of girls you want to impress. Use your own money."

"But I'm broke!" Joe protested, his voice rising.

Adam was unmoved. "Then take her for a walk or a ride or something else that's free. Just don't do it until after the branding's done."

There was a long, pregnant silence. Adam eyed them suspiciously. "What now."

Hoss cleared his throat. "We was all set on Friday night, Adam."

"Friday night!" Adam stood up straight. "How could you possibly have a party Friday night? We have to show those horses to that Cavalry buyer early Saturday morning!" Their blank faces showed him clearly that they'd forgotten all about it. Adam felt his temper rise. "Look, this is an important deal for the Ponderosa. I need you both awake and alert Saturday morning. And we need the branding done before that. Not that all the branding in the world is going to mean much if our fences are all lying around in disrepair."

Hoss thrust out his lower lip. "Dadburn it, Adam, we've been working like dogs. Seems we should be able to take it a little easy with Pa away."

Adam ground his teeth. "The idea, Hoss, is for things to run just as if Pa were here when he's gone, not to let everything slide until he gets back."

Joe frowned. "I'm with Hoss. We've earned a little break and I say we take it."

Adam's cold look silenced him. He finally broke the uncomfortable pause that followed, speaking with measured care. "Well, given the fact that the north fence is still not fixed and you two have spent God only knows how many hours in town this morning and then God only knows how many hours here, planning your party, I'd say you've had your break." Both Hoss and Joe winced involuntarily. They hated it when he used that particular voice. "I hope you both enjoyed it, because here's what we're going to do now.

I'm going to find a couple of men and send them to finish that fence you haven't gotten to and you two are going to the branding site and move things along there. And then this evening we're going to talk about what's left to do in branding and what else we need to do to get ready for this sale and we're going to forget about everything else until those things are taken care of! Am I clear?"

Joe scowled and muttered something. Adam fixed his gaze on him. "Did you say something?" he asked with deceptive gentleness.

Joe was not ready to back down yet. "I said you treat us like kids!" he burst out.

Adam folded his arms. "And can you think of any reason why that might be?"

Joe's cheeks flamed. "I just think we'd do a lot better if you let us do things in our own way and our own time!"

Adam looked at him. "Like today."

"Yeah, like today! We would have gotten it done, Adam."

"Fine. Eventually. And do you think you would have gotten anything else done? And what about the horse sale? What do you think you would have accomplished toward that, given that apparently you'd forgotten all about it?"

Hoss and Joe looked at each other then away.

Adam nodded. "Right. There's too much work to keep a spread as large and varied as ours running, Joe, for anybody to do what needs to be done in their own time. It needs to be done in the ranch's time. A little delay, a little carelessness and everything can unravel before your eyes. Now, I need you both at the branding pits - an hour ago - do you think you can oblige me or is that something you need to do in your own way and time?"

Hoss shrugged and nodded reluctantly.

"Good."

"Adam!" the door flew open and one the ranch hands, Clyde Decker, stood in the doorway, a little out of breath. "Sorry to barge in, sir, but I saw your horse tied outside. That bridge finally gave way over Hammond Crick."

Adam reached for his hat. "Anybody hurt?"

Clyde shook his head. "No sir. Got two horses in though - one probably have to be put down. Got the other out okay, but don't think we can put off repairs any longer. Where you want me to pull somebody from?"

Adam closed his eyes for a minute and sighed. "Nowhere." he said at last. "I'll go."

Clyde looked doubtful. "Thought you were gonna help with the brandin'. Could sure use an extra set of hands there. Was thinkin' I could pull Lem offen breakin' them horses..."

Adam shook his head. "No, I need to pull Lem to fix that north fence. I'll need to send somebody with him as it is. I'll go myself."

Clyde opened his mouth to say he thought Joe and Hoss were taking care of the north fence, then closed it abruptly as he caught sight of their faces. "Yessir." he said doubtfully. "Sure do hate to lose the pair of hands with the branding, though."

"You won't be." Adam was pulling on his gloves. "Hoss and Joe will be joining you at the branding pits." he skewered them with a glance. "Won't you?" They both shuffled their feet and nodded sullenly. "Good. I'll see you two at supper."

Hoss scrunched his face into a frown. "Hey, with no Hop Sing who's gonna fix supper tonight?"

Adam smiled sweetly. "I have no idea. Why don't you two work that out. In your own way and time, of course."

Joe scuffed at the floor with his boot toe. "Adam, don't you ever get tired of telling people what to do?" he asked bitterly.

Adam gazed back at him, something in his expression that Joe hadn't expected. "Yeah, Joe." he said at last. "I really do."

Joe and Hoss watched in silence as he followed Clyde out the door, shutting it a little more sharply than necessary behind him. Hoss swallowed, wrinkling his forehead. "Sure is mad." he said glumly, breaking the long silence that followed.

Joe nodded soberly. "Yeah. But not nearly as mad as he's gonna be when he finds out we already invited everybody."

*****

Adam's irritation followed him all the way to Hammond Creek. The small bridge was even worse than he'd feared - one support fully broken through and the platform leaning at a crazy angle, dragging in the water and battered by the swift current. It was a poor design anyway - he'd been meaning to replace it for some time - but something more urgent always seemed to need his attention first. Now it had cost them a horse and twice as much work. Couldn't do without it all together - the creek divided some important pasture land - needed to have all of it accessible, not just half. But he certainly couldn't build a new one this afternoon and would have to come up with some sort of makeshift repair. He stood studying it a moment, wondering if letting the animals wade would be more practical in the end. But the current was too strong and swollen with the early spring rains and melted snow - too risky. Between the jutting rocks and speedy flow too many would be injured or lost. No way around it, then. He pulled his ax from his saddle roll and moved to have a closer look.

Pole was rotted clear through. Planks didn't look in a whole lot better shape - other supports might be ready to give way as well. Only one way to find out for sure...he made a face. Still a little cool for wading to be enjoyable, but...he sat down on the bank and removed his gun belt and boots and socks, then took a deep breath and stepped in. And gave a hiss of surprise. Damn, that was cold! He stood still for a few minutes, giving his body time to adjust, then, holding tight to the platform, made his way across the creek to check the support posts on the other side. It wasn't very deep - no higher than his chest at the highest point - but the temperature was bone-chilling, and by the time he reached the first post on the other side his teeth were chattering. He shook the support, hard. Some of the pulpy wood came off in his hands, but it seemed sturdy enough. Pleased, he dragged himself up on the bank and made his way to the next one. He hesitated. It was tempting to warm up a little first, but if he did that chances were he'd never get himself in again. With a sigh of resignation he set his jaw and slid down the bank on the opposite side of the bridge. This one wobbled a little, like a loose tooth, but wasn't too bad. Some kind of support strut would hold it safely for a while. Clinging to the platform, he started back to the other side of the creek. Deep or not, the current tore at him, trying to drag him under, banging him against the platform. Almost unconsciously, he heard himself swearing in a soft, steady litany of complaint, wondering why he hadn't taken Clyde up on his offer to send somebody else to do this job. The branding pits were hot work, of course, but they sounded downright cozy about now. He reached the final support post with a rush of relief and shook it vigorously. It gave away in his hands with a groan of splintering wood, throwing him backward and off balance. His feet shot out from under him and he never even heard the splash that sent him under - just the sudden absence of sounds he'd hardly been aware of, the scrape of the bank against his shoulder, the greying of light. He slid a little against the stones, fighting to get purchase enough to push himself upright - clawing for the bridge to stop his sudden rush downstream. His stiffened fingers curled around one of the braces and he yanked his head out of the water, cracking it sharply against the edge of the bridge. This time the swearing was not soft.

He stood for a second with his teeth clenched, clinging to the brace, coughing up water, noticing that the bridge had all but broken free from the bank on his side. Well, that was just wonderful. His eyes scoured the bank for a handhold - part of one of the posts was still sticking out of the bank - if it would hold his weight he could at least pull himself ashore. Gingerly, so as not to dislodge the bridge's tenuous connection to the bank, he pulled himself along, hand over hand, floating alongside the platform to minimize the strain on the structure. He curled his hand around the remains of the post and tugged gently, testing it, without letting go of the disintegrating platform. It rocked a little, but held. It was all he needed. With a mighty lunge he caught a handful of grass and pulled himself onto the bank, rolling the rest of the way out of the water. He lay for a moment, chest heaving, then sat up slowly. Well. That had certainly been fun. Yanking impatiently at the buttons, he removed his wet shirt and tossed it on the grass to dry. He glanced at the bridge. The last of it had broken free and was bouncing merrily in the water, twisted and splintered by the tumble of the current.

He reached up to wipe the water from his face. Who was he kidding. There was no fixing that bridge. It had to be replaced. The wood would break apart as quickly as he nailed anything to it. Maybe he could come up with some kind of temporary structure...he let his eyes drift over the nearby trees. All he had to do was cut a bunch of those down, trim off the branches, and fashion them into some kind of a sturdy platform, all before the sun went down. In spite of himself, he laughed. Or he could just spin a roomful of straw into gold.

The other side of Hammond Creek was going to be out of reach for a little while - might as well admit defeat gracefully and join Hoss and Joe at the branding. He could think of a substitute range for grazing on the way there. But instead of rising, he rubbed his hands over his eyes and dropped onto his back on the grass again. Another grazing area. Another bridge. Another contract. He was sick to death of thinking of ways and means.

Spring was always a hectic season - so much to be set up and recouped after the long winter - but this time last week he would have said he had things pretty much in hand. Enough to take off for a little hunting trip - just a couple of days - long enough to blow the must of being cooped up all winter out of his lungs, to give himself some respite from the family he'd shared close quarters with all those long, cold months. His father had seen it differently.

"How can you possibly think of going away at a time like this? We have that horse sale coming up and I need to be in San Francisco!"

"Pa, I can be back for the horse sale - I just need a little change - a couple of days up in the hills. It'll help restock the larder. You can manage without me - you have Hoss and Joe."

"Hop Sing is away and Hoss and Joe should not be left here unsupervised!"

"Pa, they'll be fine by themselves. They're eighteen and twenty-four, after all!"

"Even so. They can not be expected to do what you do."

"Well, you certainly don't expect them to." retorted Adam before he could stop himself. He saw Ben's face and sighed inwardly. "A couple of days." he continued more quietly. "That's all. What could happen in a couple of days?"

Ben hesitated, then shook his head. "Adam, I wish I could. I know you've earned it - I'm just not comfortable with it. Joe's at an age - "

Adam hadn't meant to push but he was disappointed and frustrated and it just didn't seem fair. "I know what age Joe is. But come on, Pa - think what I was doing at eighteen."

Ben was silent. "It's not the same." he said finally.

"No, it certainly doesn't seem to be." agreed Adam bitterly.

Ben's expression softened. "Adam, as soon as I return - "

"As soon as you return there will be another contract or another emergency or another opportunity and another reason why I have to be here. Never mind, Pa. I'm sorry I asked."

He sighed at the memory and let his hands fall from his eyes. He had hurt his father, he knew it, and he was sorry for it, but somehow he couldn't stop himself. And worst of all, his father had been right. Left to their own devices Hoss and Joe would even now be throwing a party and the branding and the horse sale would be going begging.

And how he envied them that. He wondered briefly what it was like not to walk around with an eight-page checklist in your head, not to have people constantly after you to make decisions, find answers, fix problems. What he wouldn't give to find out. With all his heart he wished that the biggest thing he was worried about was impressing some girl, instead of closing a horse deal, grazing the stock sufficiently, finishing the branding, keeping the books in order, staying within budget.

He turned his head and studied the hills ranging in the distance, beckoning him. I lift mine eyes to the hills, from whence cometh my help...and smiled grimly. Scripture, not Shakespeare. Perfect. The transition from Adam to Ben Cartwright was complete. He had officially turned into his father.

He closed his eyes. He really had to get up. He really had to get back. He had about a thousand things to do and none of them were getting done while he was just lying around...the sun felt warm on his face though, and it was so quiet here, away from everyone...maybe he'd just take a couple of minutes...just long enough for his clothes to dry...the insect sounds were a soft hum in his ears and the late afternoon sun was baking the dampness from his clothes and before he knew what was happening he was sound asleep. He became vaguely aware, an indeterminate passage of time later, of Sport's whinny somewhere nearby and he swallowed and stirred. "I hear you." he murmured, barely audibly. "I'm coming." The sound came again, followed by a snort and a jingling as Sport tossed his head. "All right, all right." Adam reached up to rub his eyes. "I said I was coming. Pa got you on the payroll now?"

"You take it slow and easy, mister."

That got Adam's attention, and he froze, then opened one eye cautiously. Monopolizing his field of vision was the long, gleaming nose of a double-barreled shotgun, pointed directly at his chest. He closed the eye again and groaned. This really just was not his day.

*****

"All right." He lifted his hands slightly to show that they were empty. "I'm unarmed. Mind if I sit up?"

In his narrowed line of vision, the rifle shook a little. "All right. But nothing funny, you hear?"

He smiled slightly to himself. That voice sounded more frightened than frightening. Still, better not to startle anybody, so he eased himself carefully onto his elbows, squinting against the sun for a look. Difficult to make out more than a fuzzy outline and that enormous gun barrel, wavering somewhere around the center of his chest. "Easy with that thing." he said, a little plaintively. "The way you're shaking it it's bound to go off."

"Then you better be real careful, hm?"

"I think we'd both better be." He reached out with one hand and stopped abruptly as the barrel rose to rest on his collarbone. "My shirt." he explained, pointing cautiously. "I'd kind of like to put it back on."

"Oh." The gun was still. "Well, I spose that's all right. Nothing funny now, y'hear?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." Adam leaned over just far enough to snag his shirt. It was almost dry – he wondered how long he'd been asleep. "Just putting it back on." He made his voice low and soothing, sliding his arms into the sleeves with exaggerated slowness. "Thanks." He gestured to show he was going to button it now. "You know, that sun is almost directly in my eyes – I don't suppose you'd consider moving a little to my right?"

"Oh." The gun wavered again. "Well, I spose there's no harm. Just so long as you don't try anythin'."

"Word of honor." he suppressed a smile. Well, it was certainly a considerate desperado. And not a very experienced one. The smile twitched a little despite his best efforts as the figure moved out of the glare and became visible. His ears had not misled him. "So. What can I do for you?"

"Sure ask a lot of questions for a man at the business end of a gun."

He shrugged apologetically. "My nature, I'm afraid. But I assume you do want something? Other than target practice?"

"Your horse." The voice sounded a little cross this time.

"I see." Adam paused. "Um – I don't like to criticize your technique, but I don't suppose it occurred to you to take him while I was still asleep?"

"Of course it occurred to me – I am NOT stupid."

Adam held up one hand as the gun barrel shifted alarmingly. "It was just a thought." he said mildly. "I didn't mean to imply anything."

"I tried to take him while you were asleep. I couldn't get him to stand still. He kept tossin' his head and turning away and makin' noise an' all."

This time Adam couldn't suppress his grin. "He IS a bit of a handful."

"So I decided you could hold him for me while I mounted."

Adam eyed his captor thoughtfully. He still couldn't see her very clearly due to the shapeless clothing, but he could identify enough to know that the figure was a female and sounded very young. "I suppose that's one idea." he agreed slowly, "but I couldn't really recommend it. Even if you do manage to mount him he's quite a lot of horse to control. That's aside from the fact that horse stealing is a hanging offense in these parts. I just mention it."

"Well, I'll return him, of course – I'm just borrowin' him, after all. I don't steal."

"Is that so. You know, that gun gives entirely the wrong impression, then."

Even under the floppy hat brim he saw her lip thrust out and for a second she reminded him so much of Joe that he had to look down quickly to hide a smile.

"I'm sure I'll manage just fine. Now you just get over there and hold his head."

Adam eased his way slowly to his feet, keeping his hands away from his body "You sound like you're a long way from home." he remarked off-handedly.

She frowned from under her hat brim. "What makes you say that?" she challenged.

"A little Dixie in your voice. What brings you to this part of the country?"

She waved the gun at him for emphasis. "I don't see what business that is of yours."

He shrugged. "Well, considering you're holding a gun on me, stealing my horse, trespassing on my land, and leaving me afoot, I think you might indulge my curiosity. It's little enough to ask."

She stared as he stretched to his full height. "Mercy." she burst out involuntarily, "You are a big one!"

This time Adam chuckled. "Second thoughts?"

"No sir. This gun'll still blow one fine hole in you, big or not. Now, you get on over there to that horse before I use it." She gestured broadly with the barrel and Adam winced, expecting a wild report any second.

"I wish you'd be more careful with that thing." he said irritably. "A gun is not a toy. Have you ever even fired one of those before?"

"That," she responded primly, "Is none of your business." She gestured with it again and he moved obediently toward Sport just to make her stop. "For your information, I happen to be eloping."

"Oh." Adam backed toward Sport's head, keeping the double muzzle warily in sight. "Well. Not to be critical, and I'm certainly no expert on elopements, but isn't it customary to - uh - bring a groom?"

"I have a groom!" Adam flinched as the barrel jumped again. "I am going to meet him and that is why I need your horse! Now, you are wasting my time – he'll think I've been detained or lost my nerve!"

"Fine, fine – " Adam made a placating gesture and reached blindly for Sport's bridle, keeping his eye on the shotgun. "Virginia City? Meeting him there, I mean."

"Well, you are a nosy one. For your information, I'm meeting him - there." She gestured broadly to the hills in the distance.

"There." Adam frowned. "All the way out there? You're traveling all the way out there alone? Do you even know your way around?"

The girl shifted uncomfortably. "Well...I'm a little lost." she admitted reluctantly. "But he gave me real good instructions. There's an old abandoned cabin up there and we're to meet there and get married."

"Really." Adam's tone was tinged with sarcasm. "You know, the last time I looked there was a real shortage of ministers up that way. Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Of course I do." But her tone wasn't quite convincing. "Troy is bringing the minister with him."

"Is he." Adam was not smiling at all now. "And if he can't persuade the minister to come along with him on this merry adventure, assuming that's actually what he intends, what then? The two of you stranded up there all alone in the wilderness? Has it occurred to you that that would not do a lot for your reputation? Not to mention how dangerous it is. And how are you going to get the minister to travel that far? Kidnap him? Have you thought this thing through at all?"

"Of course I have." she grumbled. "Or Troy has, anyway. It's a wonderful plan, or it would have been, if that silly horse hadn't gotten away from me back there and I hadn't lost my way a little. But now I'll have your horse, and..."

"Now, you listen to me - " Adam broke in, then stopped. " – what is your name, anyway?" She stared at him, stone faced. "Oh, for heaven's sake, you might as well tell me. It's ridiculous to keep on calling you "hey, you"."

She glared at him from under lowered brows then said sulkily, "Cressie."

"All right. Pleased to meet you, Chrissie. Now, listen – "

"Cressie." she interrupted. "Not Chrissie. My real name is – " she made a face. "Cressida."

Adam's mouth twitched. "Cressida. Really."

"Well, and it's real easy for you to laugh, isn't it? It's my mama's fault. She named me for some dumb book or somethin'."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Cressie. Or would be, if you weren't pointing a gun at me and determined to steal my horse. My name is Adam and my mother named me for a book, too."

"No." her face lit up "You're joshin' me."

"Gospel truth."

"Well, I'll be." She almost lowered the gun, then yanked it back quickly as she caught sight of Adam's stealthy gesture toward it. "Oh, no you don't – I got to meet Troy and time is wastin'. You hold that animal steady now."

Adam cleared his throat. "Well, I'll try – but he's quite a handful, even for me, at times." He turned to face his mount and Sport promptly lowered his head and nuzzled under Adam's arm, blowing contentedly, looking for treats. Cressie raised her eyebrows. Adam glared at his trusty steed. "You're a big help." he muttered. "Cressie, let me say one thing before you do something you'll regret the rest of your life. Riding up into those hills is dangerous for a girl alone at any time. If you don't know the territory it's doubly so. I have real concerns about you trying to make such a trip and even more about any man who would ask you to. How well do you know this Troy anyway?"

She lifted her chin. "I know I love him."

Adam sighed. "Of course."

Her eyes flashed. "You're just like my Daddy. You don't know anything about being young and in love!"

Adam's eyes flickered. "Well, that seems to be a unanimous consensus, especially today. Your father doesn't know where you are?"

"Of course not! I mean, not exactly. I left him a note. Daddy doesn't approve of Troy."

"I can't imagine why." Adam saw her face and hastily switched tactics. He pinned on his most charming smile. "Look, Cressie, I have an idea – why don't you come home with me – it's not far from here. We'd be happy to put you up and I'll send someone up to meet Troy and bring him back to you. In fact, I'll go myself. We can get a minister from town and you can still be married, if you insist, though I think that now that you've scared the life out of your father it would be a nice gesture if you at least wired him and invited him to the wedding. Talked to him. This way you won't start your new life off sneaking around. It will be a lot safer and you won't have to remember your wedding in a broken down old cabin - you can even have a wedding dress."

Cressie's face wavered. "My Daddy doesn't understand." she said at last. "Daddys never let you do anything you want."

Adam smiled a little. "I know how you feel."

She opened her eyes at him incredulously. "You couldn't! You're a man grown! You can do anything you want!"

He shook his head ruefully. "You'd be surprised. What do you say? Come home with me?"

For a second he was sure he had her – the rifle barrel dipped and he was carefully poised to grab it without startling her when Sport tossed his head into him, throwing him off balance. The sudden movement startled Cressie and she involuntarily clutched one of the triggers. There was a thunderous report and a crack of wood and a scream from Sport and Adam found himself on his knees, staring from Cressie to the tree behind him, now missing a substantial chunk of trunk just about level with where his head had been a minute before. He drew a deep breath through his teeth, pushing himself slowly to his feet.

"You have absolutely no idea what you're doing with that thing, have you?" he managed tautly.

"I know enough." she answered weakly, a little shocked by the loudness and nearness of the report. "Mercy. Is it always that loud?"

"YES!" Adam felt his temper fraying as he tried to calm a now-rearing Sport. "So, why don't you just give me that gun like a good little girl and come on home with me?" It was a terrible choice of words, he knew it as soon as they were out of his mouth, but it was too late to take them back.

Predictably, Cressie's face hardened. "I will not give you this gun, Mr. High and Mighty. I am going meet my fiance and nothing will stop me!" She glanced nervously at Sport as he threw his head about and Adam murmured to him. "And as it happens, I have a new plan. A perfect one."

"Really." Adam looked at her suspiciously. "I can't wait."

Cressie took a deep breath. "YOU will take me to that old cabin. I'm sure you know the way and you can handle that – animal. You can even be a witness."

Adam stared at her. "I'll – now you listen to me – I'll do nothing of the kind. I have about a hundred things to do already and I'm late enough as it is – I can't afford to waste anymore time on this. So why don't you give up this ridiculous idea right now and let me take you back to the Ponderosa where you'll be safe and I can get back to work."

Cressie cocked the other barrel. "My plan." she said stubbornly. "We will be following my plan. You can get on that horse any time now."

"Your plan. You call that a plan. How old are you anyway?"

She tossed her head. "I am eighteen."

"Eighteen." Adam sighed. "Of course you are." He glanced past her to the grass. "I'll need my boots." he suggested innocently, an idea blossoming.

"All right." Cressie gestured him toward them, keeping the gun trained on him. "Hold it – " Adam stopped. "You let me get that gunbelt lying with ‘em first."

Adam nodded resignedly. Another idea gone bust. If only he had headed back right away as he'd intended – if only he hadn't fallen asleep. He'd be branding calves and arguing with his brothers this minute. Maybe Hoss and Joe were right – maybe they were all overtired and needed a little relaxation. As soon as the horse sale was over he'd surprise them and spring for that party himself. Let them invite whoever they wanted. He watched Cressie scoop up his gunbelt and pull out the handgun, slipping the shotgun into the crook of her arm. He frowned. "Careful with that. It's not like that blunderbuss of yours - it's got a hair trigger."

"Then you just better do as I say, hadn't you?"

Adam just looked at her. He looked at Sport. He looked over his shoulder at the hills. He thought about Cressie wandering them alone, shooting wildly and inaccurately at any sound or movement. "All right." he said after a moment. "I'd kind of like to have a word with this fiance of yours anyway." He unfastened Sport's reins from the branch where he'd looped them, waiting for her nod before swinging easily into the saddle. He thought about spurring Sport into a gallop, but it was too likely that one of Cressie's aimless shots would plug at least one of them. Or that she'd decide to wander into the wilderness on foot. Not worth it.

He stroked Sport's neck and bent down to whisper in the his ear, "When all this is over? You and I are going to have a long talk." then reached a hand down to help Cressie up. She pushed the shotgun into his saddle roll, then accepted his hand, shoving the pistol into his ribcage. "Would you PLEASE be careful with that thing?" he snapped.

"I just want to make sure you don't get any funny ideas." she drawled.

"I have never felt less funny in my life."

She settled herself comfortably behind him. "Well, that's good. Because I'll have this gun on you every step of the way."

"Whatever you say. But you might want to hold on tight." He glanced ahead at the hills and smiled a little. "Up there, huh?"

"Uh-huh." She felt the shaking of his back where she leaned against it and glared. "What-all is so funny?"

"Answered prayers, Cressie. Answered prayers." he shook his head simply. "Beware of them."

******

Hoss glanced at the grandfather clock for what seemed like the hundredth time and back at his younger brother. "Sure is late." he said uneasily

Joe's mouth twisted in agreement. "Probably making sure he doesn't get stuck cooking."

Hoss fidgeted. "Maybe. But if he's havin' trouble with that bridge he's gonna come home ornerier than ever. One of us oughta get to cookin' somethin' – I'm starved."

Joe shrugged. "Fix some eggs and bacon or something. I'm not hungry."

"Shoot, Joe, you gotta be hungry – we ain't had nothin' since lunch and all that brandin' works up an appetite."

Joe slumped lower onto the settee. "Bet he's gone into town. Just to teach us a lesson."

Hoss shuddered. "You'd dang well better hope not. If'n he's gone into town somebody's bound to mention ta him about that party bein' already set and he'll be back here like a rampaging bull." He shook his head. "Shouldn't-a done it without tellin' him anyway. Don't know how you talked me into it."

Joe snorted. "Didn't take much talking. Just took one glance from Sarah Jane Owens' big brown eyes."

Hoss blinked reminiscently, then sighed. "Reckon yer right. Dadburn it, if he DOES know then he IS mad and he's probably stayin' in town til he cools off. We might just as well eat."

"I guess you're right." Joe perked up a little. "Well, as long as he's not around, we can get back to planning the party."

Hoss grimaced uncomfortably. "I been thinkin' Joe - maybe we oughta call the whole thing off."

"Call it off!" Joe shot upright. "We can't call it off now! We invited everybody! We'll look like fools! You wanna look like a fool in front of Sarah Jane?"

Hoss swallowed hard, the misty fantasy of Sarah Jane Owens dancing in his arms and smiling up into his face with her bright brown eyes alight crumbling painfully in his mind's eye. "No..." he admitted.

"Me either. And Hoss, the Cartwrights have always been known for their hospitality. You wouldn't want to ruin our reputation for being hospitable, would you?"

Hoss wrinkled his forehead. "No..."

"Of course not." Joe nodded his head briskly. "Why, it's practically a matter of family honor."

Hoss shook his head. "I just don't know if Adam's gonna see it that way, Joe. He's mad enough to call the whole thing off hisself if'n we don't."

"Oh, Adam." Joe shrugged elaborately. "Adam won't give us any trouble."

Hoss leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "Now, I'm right curious to know how you figger that."

Joe warmed to his topic. "Adam'll like the party as much as we will - it was just bad timing that got him all hot under the collar before. If he hadn't found us here all cool and comfortable after he'd spent a hot morning at the branding and when he expected us to be out fixing that fence I'll bet he would've said "yes" with just a little coaxing. Why, we almost had him convinced anyway."

Hoss looked dubious. "We did, huh. I must have missed somethin'."

Joe waved a hand airliy. "It was subtle. But remember how he was helping us figure out how to get food with Hop Sing gone?"

Hoss scrunched his nose thoughtfully. "Yeah..."

"Well, that means he's in'erested. He's just been workin' too hard and you know how cranky that makes him. It means he needs a break. We gotta show him that this party is just the break he needs. And after he sees how much of the branding we finished today he'll stop worrying and relax and the party will start to sound real good to him. You'll see."

Hoss's expression lightened. "Huh. You reckon?" Somehow it all sounded so likely the way Joe told it.

"Sure." Joe stretched expansively. "Bet he'll even come across with the money. You know Adam. His bark is worse than his bite."

Hoss shook his head. "I don't know. I can recall some pretty good bites."

"Naw..." Joe's confidence was growing with every minute. "We just gotta approach it right. Let him have a nice meal. Good night's sleep. Show him how much progress we made. Then - bam! Spring it on him. He'll fall just like ripe fruit from a tree."

"Just like that, huh?" Hoss was still a little skeptical, but the glorious vision of a gracefully dancing Sarah Jane Owens was beating down his doubts. "Wouldn't hurt to do a little plannin', I reckon. Older brother does like his plannin'. He'll take us more serious if'n we got a plan. How many folk you reckon we invited?"

Joe's brows punched together. "How do I know? About everybody we saw, I guess. Didn't want to seem un-neighborly."

"Well, if'n we're gonna hire somebody ta do the cookin' we gotta tell 'em how many fer. How many ya think?"

Joe squinted his eyes to concentrate. "I don't know." he shrugged at last. "How many you think?"

"You don't know!" Hoss rolled his eyes in disgust. "You invited all them people an' you don't know how many? Of all the pea-brained - "

"Well, you were there too!" retorted Joe indignantly.

"Yeah, but it was your big idea!"

"Well, I didn't hear you protesting any! Especially around Sarah Jane!"

They glared at each other.

Uncharacteristically, it was Joe who backed down first. He cleared his throat. "Look, if we're gonna have to fight Adam we better not fight each other. We need a united front."

"Fight him, huh? I thought you said he was gonna fall like ripe fruit from a tree." Hoss mimicked Joe's expansive gesture.

Joe made a face at him. "He will. Just might take a little - well - persuading - is all. He can't give in too easy. He's got his pride."

"More than his share, if'n you ask me." Hoss grumbled.

Joe leaned forward and met his eyes squarely. "You want a chance to dazzle Sarah Jane or not?" Hoss rubbed his nose pensively. Joe lowered his voice slyly. "Saw Butch Peters givin' her the eye in town the other day. He lives right there in Virginia City, too. Bet he can just stop by and see her every day." Hoss's mouth twisted into a frown and he tugged at his ear. "Make it really easy for a fellow to get a head start. He'd be a tough one to catch, Butch Peters. But if you're too nervous - well - " Joe shrugged and sat back with a light sigh, watching Hoss surreptitiously through his lashes.

Hoss's face worked strangely. "Butch Peters rushes every new gal that comes ta this town then leaves 'em fer the next new one." he growled at last.

Joe shrugged. "Well, a girl's gotta go around with somebody. If she doesn't meet the right fella what's she supposed to do?" he shook his head sadly. "Poor Sarah Jane."

"Aw, cut it out." Hoss kicked moodily at the carpet. "How many you figger we invited?"

Joe let out a crow of delight. "That's the spirit! I figger between us we can probably remember most of 'em - then maybe add five, to be on the safe side. And ol' Adam might have somebody he wants to invite, too. Let's see, there's Julie and Sarah Jane - "

"Well, that was kinda the whole point."

"Right. And Julie's folks, the Trayners, and Sarah Jane's Ma..."

"And Roy Coffey. Wouldn't be a party without him."

"Right. And if we got Roy, that means Clem - and the Doc, of course - "

"Margie Jenkins was with Sarah when we gave her the invite, so we asked the Jenkins..."

Joe was counting painstakingly on his fingers. "We ran into that wagonload of Simpsons on the way back to the ranch, too - how many of them do you think there were?"

Hoss squinted one eye. "Six, anyway." he said at last. "How many's that?"

Joe ticked them off on his fingers, then counted again, just to be sure. "I figure about twenty. So say twenty-five?"

Hoss started to brighten. "Twenty-five ain't so bad. We've had lots more than twenty-five ta parties."

Joe nodded enthusiastically. "That's right. How much could a little party for twenty-five people cost? Even Adam couldn't object to that."

The vision of Sarah Jane sweeping around the great room in his arms rushed back full force and Hoss smiled - his genuine, gap-toothed smile this time. "Dagummit, Joe - I think you're on to something afterall. This just may work."

Joe swung his legs up onto the settee and folded his hands behind his head. "Of course it will work, big brother. You just leave everything to me."

Chapter 2: As You Like It...Or Not

"True is it that we have seen better days!"

II, vii, 120

"So where exactly is this cabin?" Adam steered Sport carefully through the trees, keeping him at a walk as much because of the uneven ground as the pistol Cressie seemed determined to press precariously in his back.

"Troy said there was an old cabin hunters used sometimes up by a place called Grouse Ridge, near an abandoned mine."

Adam automatically pulled Sport to a stop. "All the way up there?"

Cressie prodded him with the gun and he grit his teeth in irritation. "You just keep this here creature movin'. Is it far?"

"Cressie, that's hours away - and we're not exactly set up to camp out. Did you bring any supplies? Food? Blankets?"

"Well, I told you I lost my horse." Adam couldn't see her face behind him, but she sounded like a sulky child. After a minute she added, "Troy didn't say it was so far."

"The more I hear about this fiance of yours - " he felt her stiffen and checked himself. "Is your Troy a local boy? From these parts?"

"I don't see why you ask all these questions. Troy is a fine s - " she caught herself. "He's a southerner. Like me."

"It just seems funny for anyone not from this area to know about that cabin. Oh, it's pretty well known hereabouts - hunters use it for shelter now and again - but I don't see how anybody else could know about it. Unless he's hunted around this way?"

Cressie sat up straight. "An' just what are you gettin' at?"

Adam shrugged. "Nothing. Just - thinking."

"Well, your thinkin' is wrong about Troy. He wasn't expectin' me to make the trip by myself. We were supposed to meet back aways, but I got off track and then I lost my horse. He only told me about the cabin in case we got separated."

A dry remark sprang to Adam's lips, but he bit it back and said instead. "Where'd you lose the horse?"

Cressie sighed, unconsciously leaning against his back. Adam guessed she wasn't used to spending an extended amount of time in the saddle. "Seemed like miles away from where I found you. I borrowed it from the last Way Station when we stopped to take a break for the night but I'm not used to ridin' bareback. In fact, I'm not used to ridin' astride."

"Borrowed. Like you were going to 'borrow' mine?"

"I was goin' to return it. I don't - "

"You don't steal. So you said. You realize there could be a posse after you?"

"For one silly horse? He wasn't even a very good horse. But he was much nicer than this one. Not so nervous."

Adam patted Sport apologetically. "Sport isn't nervous. He just has a mind of his own. I like a horse with a little spirit. Other one throw you?"

There was a pause. "I fell off." she admitted at last, reluctantly, and, almost as if she could sense Adam's smile, "I told you I wasn't used to ridin' bareback. Anyway, after I lost the horse I knew there was no chance of meetin' Troy where we planned on time, so I walked for a ways, but goodness, there's just nothin' out here - no people or houses or nothin'. You were the first soul I saw for just miles and miles..."

"Which is why horse stealing is a hanging offense."

"Now, that's just silly. I don't even have the horse anymore. He's probably home in his stall this minute. If he's home there's no crime."

Adam shook his head. "You have a very creative view of the law. Stealing a stage horse, stealing my horse, not to mention kidnapping me - I'd say you're developing a pretty impressive record for yourself. This time next week you could be appearing on wanted posters all over the Territory."

"You think so?" Cressie sounded intrigued. "My, wouldn't Daddy be cross!"

In spite of himself, Adam laughed. "Wouldn't it be easier to go to your rendezvous location? Surely your Troy waited for you."

"Mercy, no. He couldn't wait, on accounta - " she broke off.

"Account of?" Adam prodded.

Cressie sat up straight again, disgruntled at her own carelessness. "Never you mind. You ask too many questions."

"Just making conversation. It's a long ride."

"Well, you just mind where we're goin'."

Adam sought out the sun, then looked at Sport. "If you're serious about pursuing this I'd better find a place for us to camp tonight. There's a stream not far on - we can find a place somewhere near there."

"But we can't!" Cressie forgot about the gun she was holding and made a grab for the reins, snagging them for a minute, then dropping them. Sport shied to the right, neighing his surprise and tossing his head and Cressie clutched at Adam, thunking the gun barrel against his breast bone. Adam hastily adjusted his hold on the reins, trying to bring Sport under control again, trying to ignore the insistent pressure against his sternum and how likely it was that all this jouncing would set the gun off. Cressie held on for dear life, oblivious to the direction of the pistol. After a minute, Adam had Sport back in hand, allowing himself a deep breath and trying to resist the almost overwhelming urge to grab the pistol away from Cressie - a move that, on horseback, would almost surely result in injury to at least one of them.

When he thought he could speak he said slowly and carefully, "Unless you want to find yourself alone in the wilderness with a corpse and a restive horse I suggest you learn to be a little more careful with that thing."

Cressie noticed for the first time where she was pointing the gun and let go of Adam with that arm, flapping the pistol around as if unsure of where to direct it. "Well, you just don't try anything." she squeaked unconvincingly.

"I am trying something. I'm trying very hard to stay alive. You make it hard work."

"Well - just don't do anything foolish, then. I don't want to have to shoot you."

The word "foolish" seemed to have an odd effect on Adam. He opened his mouth to retort, closed it, twisting his neck to relieve the stiffness there. He then carefully removed his hat, reaching up and kneading his temples for a full minute before he felt he could trust himself to speak calmly. Finally he managed, "I don't really have any fear of you shooting me on purpose, Cressie - in fact, I don't think you could do it if your life depended on it. But by accident? I shudder at the possibilities."

Cressie seemed at a loss for a minute, then she burst out, "Well, either way, you'd be dead."

"My thoughts exactly." he reached down to stroke Sport, who was prancing edgily. "You know, if we turned around now we could reach my ranch sometime after dark."

"That's not where we're goin'." said Cressie stubbornly. "We're goin' to meet Troy."

"All right..." Adam sighed, catching the sound of a stream up ahead. "Have you ever camped out before?"

Cressie instinctively tightened her grip around his chest. "You mean - on the ground?"

"On the ground."

"No." her voice sounded very small. "But I'm not afraid, if that's what you're thinkin'." She glanced about dubiously at the surrounding trees. "How much farther?"

"Couple of hours. If we start out again at daybreak we can be there while it's still early."

"Why don't we just ride on through the night, then?"

"Lots of reasons. No moon, and it's going to be dark soon under these trees. Terrain's pretty rough. And Sport needs a break - he's been carrying double for a long way." He turned in the saddle and grasped her arm, swinging her effortlessly to the ground and dismounting lightly next to her. "Well, maybe not quite double." he smiled, with a glance at her. "More like one and a half." Cressie was rubbing her arms for warmth, the gun pointed unconsciously towards her own shoulder. Adam shook his head. "Why don't you put that thing away before you hurt someone? You can't honestly believe that I'd leave you all alone out here without a horse - especially with night coming on."

"No..." she admitted slowly. "You seem like a gentleman. But you might try to make me go back to your ranch with you if I don't keep guard."

Adam grinned appreciatively. "The thought had occurred to me."

"Well, you can just forget about it."

"You realize that you'll have to stay up and keep guard on me all night?"

"I can do that."

Adam shook his head. "Hope this fellow's worth it."

"He is." said Cressie loyally. "What are you doing?"

Adam finished untying the saddlebags and lowered them to the ground, turning to loosen the cinch. "Settling Sport. There should be some beans and jerky in there - my father's pretty strict about us bringing food when we set out for the day. Or you could let me take the rifle and see if I could bag us something a little more appetizing." He pulled the saddle and reached for the saddle blanket. "You'll be pretty happy to have this later on - I'm afraid it's the only one I have, though. I wasn't planning on staying out all night. You know how to build a fire?"

Cressie shifted from one foot to the other. "You're serious. About sleepin' out here."

Adam raised his eyebrows. "Where else? I want to water Sport and refill the canteens, too. What about the fire?"

"What about it?"

"Do you want to build it while I get water?"

"I - " in the uncertain light it looked as though she was blushing. "I have to keep the gun on you."

Adam's mouth twitched. "Of course." He slung the canteens over his shoulder and gathered Sport's reins. "This way." He gestured her courteously in front of him, but she frowned and waved the pistol. Adam shrugged and moved toward the sound of the stream.

*****

"Beautiful night." Cressie jumped at the sound of his voice and he hid a covert smile. "Finished eating? I know it's probably not what you're used to."

Cressie put her plate of beans daintily aside and reached up to remove her hat, giving Adam his first good look at her face. To him she looked impossibly young - a broad, sweet face offset by a suprisingly square jaw and wide set eyes - in the shadowy firelight it was difficult to tell their color, but he thought light, like the long, tangled braid of golden brown hair. She folded her arms around her knees - she was long and slender, and with the hat on passed well for a boy. For the moment she seemed to have forgotten about the gun, and he had no desire to remind her. Cressie with a loaded gun was alarming enough - Cressie with a loaded gun in the dark was horrifying.

Didn't matter anyway. It was too late to make it back to the Ponderosa tonight - he was stuck where he was. He put the remains of his own dinner aside, wondering what Hoss and Joe were thinking about his absence. Probably wouldn't worry too much tonight - of course he'd said he'd be home for dinner, but Hammond Creek was quite a ride and they'd probably assume he was just having trouble with the bridge. He grimaced. More trouble than they could possibly imagine. If he could get Cressie to the cabin a little after daybreak, he could either turn her over to this appalling fiance of hers or convince her to return with him and be back at the Ponderosa by lunchtime. Almost a full day lost.

He rubbed unconsciously at the bridge of his nose and sighed inwardly. If only Hoss and Joe had seen to the branding. If only they hadn't forgotten about the fences and the horse sale, if only they weren't off mooning somewhere for whatever two girls had caught their eye this week, things shouldn't be in too bad order. Of course, he was going to have some explaining of his own to do. And the mere thought of recounting this story to his two younger brothers made him squirm. He'd let his guard down, he'd fallen asleep, and he'd been taken by an eighteen year old girl. A little delay, a little carelessness and everything can unravel before your eyes. His own words came back to haunt him and he moved to rub his forehead this time. Hoist on my own petard. I will never live this one down - not ever - not if I live to be a thousand.

Well, there was absolutely nothing he could do about any of it from here. Despite everything, that thought brought an odd kind of peace with it. No plan, no move, no idea would get him back to the Ponderosa and attending to business, no matter how urgently he wanted to. He had told his father that Hoss and Joe could manage on their own - now he just had to hope it was true and try to believe it himself.

The sounds of the night creatures were musical and soothing - he had always loved sitting by the fire and listening to them - through the canopy of trees he could just glimpse a few stars. He hadn't misspoken to Cressie - it really was a beautiful night and here he was, in the hills, just where he'd hoped to be. Of course, he hadn't exactly planned on the babysitting portion, but as long as he was here anyway, he might just as well enjoy himself. Too bad he wouldn't be able to squeeze in a little hunting. He bent forward to throw a little more wood on the fire.

"Where'd you learn all this?"

"What's that?" startled out of his own thoughts, it took a moment for Adam to process the question. "All what?"

Cressie rubbed her arms for warmth. "Makin' a fire. Cookin' over it. Findin' your way around in the middle of nowhere."

Adam reached for the horse blanket and held it out to her. When she eyed it dubiously, he rose and draped it around her shoulders, picking up a stick and crouching back down to stir up the fire. "Indians, I guess."

"Indians!" Cressie's eyes widened into huge pools that reflected the firelight. "You know Indians?"

"Were almost the only people out here when I was a boy. Got to know the Paiutes - their Chief, Winnemucca, had a son about my age named Young Wolf. We got to be good friends. He taught me how to navigate the wilderness - how to survive it. We hunted and rode together...for a lot of years."

Cressie edged closer. "Do you still?"

Adam poked the fire and shook his head.

"How come?"

"Things...changed."

"You? Or Young Wolf?"

"Both, I guess. Or maybe it was the rest of the world that changed. Never figured that one out."

Cressie stared moodily at the fire. "I hate change."

Adam smiled faintly. "For a girl that hates change, you're planning on making a mighty big one."

"Well, I figure that sometimes it's better to make the change yo'self if there's goin' to be change anyways - that way you can choose the change, sort of, and not be taken by surprise."

"Control it, you mean."

"Uh-huh."

"Nice idea, if only it worked. What big surprise brought you to this conclusion?"

Cressie fidgeted with the edges of the blanket. "My Mama died."

Adam nodded understandingly. "That's the worst one, all right. Recently?"

"Oh, no. Six years ago, now. But it changed everything."

"Sure does."

She caught something in his voice and looked at him. "Is your Mama dead too?"

"Um hm."

"After she named you for a book?"

"Right after, as it happens."

"You didn't know her at all?"

He shook his head. "Not really. After the fact, some, I like to think, though."

Cressie pulled the blanket around her. "That's much worse. No Mama at all."

"Not as bad as it sounds - my father remarried."

"Then you still have that mama."

"No - it's a very long story, Cressie."

"I'm not goin' anywhere."

Adam relaxed onto the ground, Indian style. "Why don't we talk about you? What are these other changes you're hoping to control?"

"Oh." Cressie made a face. "After Mama died, Daddy had to find a place for me, since he - well, since he travels an' all. He sent me to Miss Haversham's Finishing School for Genteel Young Ladies."

Her tone of disgust made Adam laugh out loud. "Not your favorite, I take it."

"It's a stupid place. And we learn stupid things. Like sewing and dancing and deportment...and I can only see my Daddy on vacations and things. Course, he comes to see me when he can. Did your Daddy send you away when your Mama died?"

"No." Adam admitted. "He kept me with him. But I was younger and I think maybe it's a little easier with a boy."

"Everythin' is easier if you're a boy!"

Adam smiled. "Well, not everything. But many things, I'll grant you that. So, now that you're eighteen - are you graduated?"

"Later this year. I'm supposed to be meeting Daddy for vacation."

"And you're just not showing up?"

Cressie gave him a sideways glance. "I left him a note..."

"A great comfort to him, I'm sure. He must be half crazy with fear."

"Don't expect he knows just yet. Besides, it serves him right."

"What, for sending you to Finishing School?"

"Of course not!" she paused. "Well, maybe that, some. But I meant for not lettin' me marry Troy. Daddy just has this terrible prejudice against him."

Since Adam had already developed something of a terrible prejudice against the mysterious Troy himself he could well understand that he might, but he held his peace and said instead, "And where did you meet this Troy? Finishing School?"

"Mercy, no! Why, you could live there and not know there was a man in the world! I met Troy while I was visiting Daddy! He's - well, he works for Daddy, sort of. Troy took to me right off, and me to him. He courted me right hard. Not around Daddy, of course, because - well, there were reasons you'd understand if you knew everythin'. Before I went back to school I told Daddy about it and he just about blew his top! He ordered me to never, ever see Troy again! Can you imagine!"

Adam could imagine very well, but held his tongue.

"But Troy, he wasn't discouraged - he wrote to me in secret, and when we couldn't stand to be apart anymore he came up with this wonderful plan so's we could run away and get married. Now Daddy will have to accept him."

Adam put his tongue firmly in his cheek to avoid expressing his opinion of Troy and the wonderful plan. No point in wanting to thrash a stranger. He was probably just another heedless eighteen year old kid who never thought beyond tomorrow anyway.

"And what's to prevent your father from sending you back to school and kicking Troy into the hereafter once he catches up with you?"

"He can't. I'll be married. I'll belong to my husband, then."

"All right. And once you've taught your father this sterling lesson, then - what happens next? You and Troy live happily ever after?"

"Of course." Cressie sounded surprised he should ask.

"I don't know. Sounds to me like this whole thing is more about your father than it is about Troy. It's not too late to back out, you know."

"And let Troy think I'm a coward? Let Daddy think I'm a child? I will not!"

"Those are very bad reasons for getting married, Cressie."

"Now - now you see here - " Cressie sputtered, clambering to her feet. "You - you don't know - you just - " she clutched at the shotgun that had been lying across her knees and leveled it at him. "You seem to forget who's in charge here! I'll have you know - what was that?" A distant howling made her jump and she let out a small scream. The jump set off the remaining barrel with a reverberating bang, and Cressie jumped and screamed again at that sound. Sport echoed the scream shrilly, fighting his tether.

Adam, who had risen with her and had actually felt the scorching heat of the charge as it tore through his shirt, decided he had had just about enough.

"Would you give me that!" he demanded, snatching it out of her hands and breaking the barrel open to be sure it was empty before throwing it aside. "Now I do NOT want to see you pick that, or any gun, up again until you have some small idea of how to use it! It's a wonder you haven't killed one of us by now or shot your own foot off! That was a wolf, nothing more, and probably not within half a mile of here from the sound of it, so would you please - " he broke off suddenly at the sight of Cressie's face. "Oh, no." he groaned. "No, please - don't do that..."

It was too late. Cressie's chin trembled. She caught her breath in a sob. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

Adam pushed his hands through his hair. "Come on, Cressie...don't cry...all I meant..." Cressie began to sob in earnest, great gulping sobs, and Adam couldn't help putting his arm around her. "All right." he said awkwardly. "It's all right."

Cressie buried her head in his chest. "It is not!" she sobbed miserably. "I've just ruined everythin'! I lost the horse and I almost SHOT you - twice - and now I'm late to meet Troy an' he'll think I'm too stupid to marry..."

"That's not so." soothed Adam, rubbing her back comfortingly. "You're not stupid."

"I AM." protested Cressie tearfully, clinging to his shirt. "Look at how I messed everythin' up! I stole two horses..."

"Borrowed." Adam murmured.

"And kidnapped you, and even with a gun I couldn't make you afraid of me..."

"Of course I was."

"And now I have to stay up all night to guard you and my goodness, I just don't know how I'm going to manage that...and the worst is all those years in Miss Haversham's School for Genteel Young Ladies and now I find I don't know one useful thing. I mean, if you hadn't been here I wouldn't have known anything about how to make a fire or found anything to eat and to be honest I'm not even very good at the sewing and deportment and things...and then...and then..." she broke off suddenly, sniffed and stole a peek at him. "You - you were?"

"I was."

"Maybe just a little?"

"Terrified. I promise."

Cressie sniffed again. "Well, I think the gun made me a LITTLE scary."

"You have no idea."

Cressie looked mollified for a minute, then buried her head in his shirt again. Adam felt something suspicious pressing against his hip, reached down and traced the outline of his pistol stuck in Cressie's belt - not barrel down, as was customary, but barrel up, poised to blow off the head of the bearer. He sighed, dislodging it carefully and checking the hammer to be sure it wasn't cocked. She peered down to see what he was doing, remembering the gun too late.

"Cressie, we need to make a bargain."

"A bargain?" Cressie sniffled and squinted up at him through tear-swollen eyes.

"That's right. A deal. A - an agreement."

She ran the backs of her hands over her eyes to dry them. "What kind of agreement?"

"Well, for example, I agree to take you to the cabin tomorrow morning and wait, say, half an hour for Troy to show up if you agree to put away your little arsenal. You agree if Troy doesn't show up within half an hour you'll come back to the Ponderosa with me and try to contact him from there."

"Hm." she considered. "Once I'm at the cabin you could just leave me to wait for Troy."

"You know I couldn't."

"I'd be fine."

"Cressie - "

"Oh, all right. My, you are a bossy one. We wait two hours for Troy, though."

"No. I have things to do. Half an hour. That's all."

"One hour, then."

Adam hesitated, then nodded resignedly. "One hour."

"And you don't get the guns either."

"Oh, for - "

"I mean it. This needs to be - y'know - equal."

"Well, you certainly can't think I'd shoot you and it would be nice if someone who knew how to use them had them handy for protection."

Cressie considered. "Well, maybe the rifle, then. For those wolves and things. But not the handgun or the shotgun."

"I just don't think you have any idea how dangerous it is to be out here unarmed."

Cressie wavered. "Well, you can keep the handgun nearby, then. But where I can reach it too."

"All right, all right, all right - whatever you say. Do you think you could get some sleep now? We have an early start tomorrow."

"We should shake on our agreement or somethin' - shouldn't we?"

Adam shifted the pistol to his left hand and she took his right hand and pumped it vigorously. "I feel just heaps better." she said cheerfully.

"Good thing somebody does."

It took a while to get Cressie comfortably stowed in the reversed saddle with the saddle blanket and settled for sleep - the strangeness of the bed and the night made her jumpy, but the unaccustomed rigors of the day finally took their toll and she was at last fast asleep. Only then did Adam feel comfortable seeking his own bed, such as it was. Without the blanket or saddle it promised to be a cold night.

He built up the fire and made himself as comfortable as he could, then lay back to try to get some sleep. It was a long time coming. Shivering in the chill night air and with the luxury of quiet to reflect, he found himself worrying about Hoss and Joe and how they were managing with the Ponderosa, and even more about his impulsive charge and her hazardous adventure. He hoped this Troy was indeed the kind of man he could feel comfortable turning responsibility for her over to, but if he wasn't, what then? Or if he was indeed another reckless teen, would he really be able to ride off and leave them to their own devices? He didn't think so. Sure aren't very good at minding your own business, Cartwright, he mumbled to himself, watching his hopes for a speedy return to the Ponderosa collapse before him. Hoss and Joe, I sure hope my faith in you isn't misplaced, or we're all in for it. He pictured the Ponderosa in his mind's eye, the great room fire, his favorite reading chair, his own room...and finally he dozed.

He awoke suddenly from a dream of Hoss and Joe laughing and dancing around the Ponderosa great room in a huge crowd of people while cattle wandered aimlessly everywhere, stepping casually over flattened fences, poking their faces down the well, wandering through Hop Sing's kitchen. His first thought was that he was much warmer than he remembered being when he went to sleep, his second that something had woken him. His hand went automatically to reach for his gun, but his arm was firmly lodged under something.

The rough nudge on his shoulder came again, more insistently. He heard the click of a rifle cocking and reached up with his left hand without thinking to brush it away. "Cressie, I thought we had an agreement." he mumbled sleepily.

An unfamiliar voice drawled, "I don't know about that, sir, but perhaps you'll be so kind as to tell me what you are doin' with my affianced bride?"

That penetrated Adam's drowsy fog and he opened his eyes and looked down to see that the source of all that mysterious warmth was a golden brown head tucked in the middle of his chest. It gradually dawned on him that Cressie must have crawled over next to him, bringing the blanket with her, at some point during the night - just as the rifle barrel moved to plant itself firmly against the side of his neck.

He bit back a groan, moved to try to get a better view of the owner of the voice. "Troy, I presume?" he ventured wearily.

This day wasn't shaping up to be any better than the last one.

*****

Hoss was headed eagerly down the hall and to breakfast when he remembered that there wasn't anyone to fix breakfast and slowed his pace. Dang. This was no good. They needed to get somebody from town to come in and cook for them - a body could starve under these conditions. He approached Adam's door and paused, his hand hovering over the knob. Adam was usually up first, but there were no sounds coming from inside. Could be downstairs already, of course, but he hadn't heard him come in last night...after a second, he knocked. No answer. He hesitated, glancing at the knob again. If Adam was up he wouldn't appreciate having his privacy invaded, but...knocking louder, Hoss turned the knob and nudged the door open. Empty. He pushed the door open further, looking. Didn't look as if the bed had been slept in and there were no signs that someone had shaved recently, but then Adam was a neat one. Might not mean anything. Pulling the door carefully closed again, he headed for the stairs. He grimaced at the sight of the bare dining room table, inexpertly cleaned up the night before. Well, Joe could fix breakfast since he'd done dinner. He wanted to see to the animals.

Chubb nickered a greeting as he entered the barn and he reached over to rub under the horse's jaw, glancing at the next stall. Empty. And the barn chores weren't done, so it had been empty all night by the look of it. Pursing his lips in thought, he reached for a shovel to start the chores.

He hadn't gotten far when Joe appeared, hair tousled from sleep and tucking in his shirt, absent-mindedly leaving it half untucked as he reached for a pitchfork.

"Adam didn't come home last night."

"Huh?" it took Joe a while to wake up all the way, but he could do the barn chores in his sleep.

"Sport's stall ain't been used. Looks like Adam didn't come home."

"Oh." Joe rubbed at his head to rouse himself, leaving his hair in even greater disarray. "Maybe he's gone out already."

"And only cleaned out Sport's stall? Ain't likely."

Joe leaned on the pitchfork and peered in Sport's stall, knuckling his eyes and looking again. "Oh. Funny." He gave a jaw-splitting yawn and woke up a little more. "Line shack, you figure?"

"Mebbe." Hoss measured out some oats for Buck and gave him a mindless pat. "Or mebbe he spent the night in town, like you said."

"Mm." Joe forked some fresh hay into a stall Hoss had shoveled clean. "Lucky. Bet he ate better than we did."

"Yeah. Bet he stays in town fer breakfast too. Guess we'll likely see 'em at the brandin'."

"Reckon." Joe looked for another clean stall, didn't see one, resignedly picked up a shovel. He paused again, leaning on the shovel this time. "Funny." he repeated after a minute.

"Him eatin' better? Ain't a bit funny."

"No, not that - get your mind off your stomach for once. Funny him not coming back to the house to give orders."

Hoss smirked. "Mebbe he figgered on lettin' us do things in our own TIME and our own WAY."

Joe made a face at him. "Ha ha ha. You're a real wit this morning, you know that? I didn't mean to us, though that's even odder now that you say it. I meant the hands. Funny he didn't come back to give them orders after complaining about our full schedule. Ain't like him."

Hoss's brow furrowed. "No." he agreed. "It ain't." He plied a shovel in another stall. "Course, it's still early. And the ride ta town's a piece long."

"Yeah."

"Ride from the line shack nearest Hammond Crik is long, too."

"Um."

"Probably started early, though. Be here any minute, most likely."

"Most likely."

"You gonna use that shovel fer a leanin' post or you gonna give me a hand here?"

"Oh. Right." Joe shook himself and applied the shovel. "Be in a better mood, though - I mean, if he ate in town and slept in a good bed and maybe had a little pleasant company. Good time to tell him the party's all set if he did."

Hoss snorted. "Be in a worse one if he had to sleep out at the line shack and eat beans cause he was wrestling with that bridge. And mark my words, if he stayed in town he knows about that party. We won't get off that easy."

Joe shook his head at him. "Trouble with you, brother, is you got a bad outlook. What's got you so sour today? Your puss would curdle milk."

Hoss chopped moodily with the shovel for a minute. "Don't know." he admitted at last. "Gotta bad feelin' somehow."

"All you need is a couple of dances with Sarah Jane and maybe a walk under a full moon and you'll have a whole different kind of feelin'."

Hoss rolled his eyes, but his expression softened some. "An' you say I gotta one track mind. How we gonna walk under a full moon Friday when the moon's new right now, tell me that."

Joe gave a whistle. "You ARE a crab today. It was just a little romantic picture I was paintin' for ya, Hoss. So it'll be a sliver of moon instead - even more romantic if you ask me."

"Mornin', fellas. Where's Adam?"

Both Hoss and Joe jumped involuntarily at the new voice. Hoss looked over his shoulder and cleared his throat. "Mornin', Clyde. Still up at Hammond Crik, I reckon."

"No he ain't. Charlie was working up thata way yesterday and ended up spendin' the night at the line shack. He stopped by to check on the bridge on his way down this mornin' and said it was broke full away on this side - just all splintered and bobbin' in the water. Wondered if Adam needed a hand with it or where else he'd like to shift them horses we was expectin' ta turn out there."

Hoss and Joe exchanged a glance. "Reckon - reckon he's in town, now that you mention it." Hoss suggested hopefully.

Clyde raised his eyebrows and slid the match clenched in his teeth to the other side of his mouth. "With yer Pa gone and all we gotta do around here? Hard to believe."

Hoss and Joe squinted uneasily at each other.

"Well, you see, Clyde," Hoss began, clearing his throat again "it was kind of - "

Joe jumped in, trying to help. "He was kind of - um - sick!" he improvised triumphantly, in sudden inspiration.

"An emergency!" Hoss put in at the same time. They looked at each other and tried again.

"An emergency." agreed Joe firmly.

"Sick." nodded Hoss simultaneously.

Hoss glared at Joe. Joe shrugged helplessly. Hoss coughed. "What we mean is - he had this - this emergency, in town, ya see, and it - ah - it just about made 'em...um...made 'em...sick..." Hoss winced at how feeble it sounded, even to his own ears.

Clyde's eyebrows raised fractionally. "That so." He made himself comfortable in the barn doorway. "Now that's too bad. What kind of emergency would that be? Mebbe I kin be o' help."

"Financial." Joe piped in quickly.

"Legal." Hoss supplied at the same moment. They exchanged a look of pure exasperation. Hoss forced a confident smile. "A legal/financial sort of..." he trailed off unhappily.

"Sort of ...emergency..." Joe finished for him weakly. "Big legal/financial..." he drifted off uncomfortably.

The corners of Clyde's mouth quirked upward the slightest bit. "Huh. No foolin'." he took the match out of his mouth, looked at it, rolled it between his fingers, and then bit down on it again. "When-all you expect him?"

"Any time!" insisted Hoss.

"Hard to say." Joe chimed.

Clyde's eyelids drooped a little, masking his eyes. "You don't say. Which was that again?"

Hoss and Joe both looked from the barn floor to each other, then away again. Hoss was thinking that he'd never really thought about it before, but, now that he did, he'd never really liked that Clyde Decker. Too darned nosy. "Ain't sure." he mumbled at last.

Clyde grinned. He pulled the match out of his mouth, looked at it, tossed it aside. "Finally kicked over the traces, huh?"

Hoss scrunched up his face. "What's that supposed ta mean?"

"Finally cut the tether. Made a break fer it. Snapped." Hoss and Joe just stared at him. "Thought mebbe that huntin' trip would be the last straw but you know yer Pa - ain't the most flexible fella ta ever come down the pike."

Hoss shook his head like a bull dislodging flies. "Clyde, if'n yer speakin' English, I don't recognize it, so why don't you explain jest what you mean? What huntin' trip? What do you know about where Adam is?"

Clyde smirked. "Thought you said he was in town?" Hoss made a sound in his throat and Clyde decided he'd pushed his luck just about far enough. "Yer brother had a huntin' trip planned fer about now - he didn't tell you about it?" Hoss and Joe looked at each other, then shook their heads. "Wanted a little time away, after all them cows we just moved and calves we dug outta four corners o' this spread. But yer Pa wouldn't hear o' it, what with him an' Hop Sing bein' away and all that brandin' and fence mendin' and the horse sale an' all. Adam was right put out about it. Reckon it's the thing that done cracked him."

Hoss's frown turned to a scowl. "Cracked. Snapped. What's this you keep goin' on about?"

Clyde shrugged. "I figger he jest about reached his limit with that bridge and rode off to take a break anyway. Always figgered it would happen sooner er later."

Joe puckered his forehead. "You mean, just - ? Without even - ?" he shook his head vigorously. "He wouldn't. Not Adam."

Hoss folded his arms over his massive chest. "Joe's right. Why Adam's like - like them hills out there. Solid. He ain't the sort ta crack."

Clyde shook his head. "Can get ta anybody, I reckon. Sometimes a young feller's just gotta feel he has some say in where he goes and when."

"Adam ain't young!" said Joe, genuinely shocked. "Why, he's gonna be thirty come next month."

Clyde's shoulders shook. "Reckon that sounds old from where yer standin'. Sounds right young from where I am."

"Just the same." Joe insisted stubbornly. "I can't see Adam goin' off, no word to us or nothin', especially with Pa away and all the work facin' us. Adam takes his responsibilities real serious."

Clyde nodded. "Now, that there's the problem. All them responsibilities too soon an' too serious fer too long and somethin's jest gotta give. Ain't sayin' he did it on purpose. Probably happened afore he even knew what-all he was doin'."

Joe raised his chin. "Adam takes to responsibility. He likes it. Why, he's been givin' orders as long as I can - as long - " Joe suddenly flashed on the look on Adam's face and the tone of his voice when he'd asked him if he ever got tired of telling people what to do and something quivered across the inside of his stomach. He blinked. "He just wouldn't, that's all." he finished with less conviction. He glanced uneasily at Hoss.

Clyde shrugged. "Well, we'll see, I reckon. Meantime, reckon yer in charge, Hoss. What you wanna do about grazin' them horses an the brandin' an the fences?"

Hoss looked over his shoulder as if expecting to see someone else standing behind him. "Whazzat?"

Clyde's eyes twinkled just the slightest bit. "The men. How you wanna use 'em?"

Hoss swallowed. "I - I'll..." he cleared his throat. "Git a crew down ta finish the brandin' an take care o' the fences, I guess. I'll - I'll have to think some on the grazin'." Hoss had bossed individual jobs before and enjoyed it too, but he had never had to look at the big picture and he felt a little overwhelmed by the suddenness of the prospect.

"Well, you know where we are if you need us. An' don't go worryin' about Adam. I reckon he'll be back when he's had a minute ta clear his head." He touched the brim of his hat to them and sauntered away. He didn't make a sound, but somehow Hoss still had the impression that he was laughing at them. He scowled. Nope. He never had taken to that Clyde Decker. Too cheeky by half.

"Think he's right, Hoss?" Hoss looked at Joe. His eyebrows were furrowed in a questioning "V". Hoss shook himself. "Howzat?"

"About Adam. Think Adam really cracked and just...?" he trailed off, his face solemn.

Hoss stuck out his lower lip. "I think it's the biggest dang fool thing I ever done heard." he said

flatly. "And I'm gonna prove it. I'm gonna ride on up ta Hammond Crik and take a look around and yer

gonna ride inta town and look fer 'em there. Clean yerself up and git. We ain't got no time ta waste."

Joe's face brightened. "Right! On my way!"

"And hire us a temporary cook while yer there!" Hoss hollered after him. He rubbed at the end of his nose. With one dang crazy thing and another a man needed to keep up his strength.

Chapter 3: ...Or What You Will

"Journeys end in lovers meeting, every wise man's son doth know."

II, iii, 46

"I believe I am the one askin' the questions here, sir."

Adam swallowed a yawn and blinked to clear the remaining sleep from his eyes. Cressie was lying directly on top of his right arm cutting off the circulation and pressed against his chest as though held there by a vacuum, so there would be no clever moves. He looked down at her again - he couldn't really blame Troy for jumping to the wrong conclusion. He offered a conciliatory smile. "Look, I know what this looks like, but it's really not what it seems - "

Keeping the gun carefully trained on Adam, Troy nudged Cressie with his boot. "Where I come from, sir, a man is permitted - nay, expected - to take lethal action against any cur who trifles with the affections of his intended." He nudged Cressie a little more forcefully.

"I have not trifled - would you stop that?" Adam pushed Troy's boot away as he made a more insistent effort to rouse Cressie. "There's no need to be so rough." he added, a little indignantly. "She's probably just worn out and maybe a little hard to wake up. My brother's the same way - let me do it. I don't know what you were thinking anyway, dragging a sheltered girl of her age out here all alone and unprotected."

Troy stared at him, somewhat off balance to find his prisoner taking the offensive. "She was supposeda meet me." he defended himself sulkily.

"Then you should have waited for her. Come on, Cressie..." Adam peeled her gently away from his chest and gave her a little shake. "Time to get up...and how far was she traveling to meet you? Alone? And what exactly was so important that you couldn't wait around for her?"

"Why, I - why - now, see here - " Troy shook himself and settled the gun more firmly against Adam's neck. "You are actin' mighty high handed for a gent that could see his head blown off any minute!"

Adam glanced up from trying to pry Cressie's fingers loose from the front of his shirt. "Let's just say I'm getting accustomed to it. C'mon, Cress - rise and shine." Cressie mumbled in her sleep and twisted, throwing an arm around Adam's waist and rolling to snuggle more firmly against him. Adam gave Troy a sheepish glance and cleared his throat. "She - had a - very long day - "

Troy glared.

Adam delicately removed Cressie's arm and pushed her carefully away again and onto her back, then leaned down to speak directly in her ear. "Cressie." he said firmly. "It's morning. I told you we needed to get an early start." he threw another look at Troy and shrugged. "Worse than my brother, actually."

Troy's expression remained stony. Cressie's eyelids fluttered and Adam smiled. "There you go. Good girl."

Cressie opened her eyes a little and stretched luxuriously. She focused on Adam and smiled back. "I thought I dreamed you." she murmured. "My - " she stretched again, "I never would have believed I could sleep so well on the groun