Kasey Michaels - The Hopechest Bride p.04

Josh left the Rollins Ranch two days later, his horses loaded into their trailer, heading for the main highway. Emily knew this because she'd returned the favor—become a stalker in her own right. She'd ridden Molly both mornings, an Inez-packed lunch tied to her saddle, and spent hours sitting on the hillside looking down at the Rollins stables.

She'd felt foolish, she'd felt stupid. But she'd done it, just to see if he meant what he'd said, if he'd really leave.

Leave without saying goodbye.

At ten o'clock, that second morning, she'd gotten her answer.

By noon, she was back at the Hacienda de Alegria, sitting out on the patio near the fountain, her jacket wrapped tightly around her in the chill air, her fists jammed into the jacket pockets, her chin resting on her chest. She didn't know why she was sitting there, how long she would sit there, or if the answer to either question meant more than a hill of beans.

She'd given herself to a man who couldn't give back. How was that for stupid? World-class stupid.

She stretched her jean-clad legs straight out in front of her, lay her head back against the chair, looked up into the watery November sun.

Funny. The sun still came out, didn't it? The world kept on turning on its axis. The chrysanthemums in the garden still bloomed, red and orange and gold. And yet her world had stopped, turned gray, and her mind…? Her mind had closed down, leaving only her emotions. Her hurt.

"Mind if I join you?"

Emily sat up quickly, startled, and saw Dr. Martha Wilkes standing next to her chair, her smile soft, gentle.

"Um, no," Emily said, getting to her feet. "I don't mind. Why would I mind?"

Martha smiled, pulled up another chair and sat down, motioned for Emily to sit again as well. "Oh, I don't know, Emily. Maybe it's because you've been avoiding me ever since I got here, knowing that Meredith and Joe hoped you'd talk to me."

"Avoiding?" Emily repeated, feeling her cheeks growing hot. "Oh, no. I haven't been avoiding—Okay," she agreed, nodding her head. "I've been avoiding you. I'm sorry."

"And so am I," Martha told her, reaching over to pat her hand. "Our discussions, if you decide to consult me, should begin with you wanting to talk, being ready to talk. Therapy can't be forced, Emily, by either side. I would, however, really like to get to know you better, if only because you mean so much to Meredith."

Emily's chin hit her chest again as she looked at Martha out of the corners of her eyes. "She's worried about me, isn't she? They're all worried about me. I'm sorry."

"Sorry that they're worried, sorry that you're giving them reason to worry, or sorry that you're sorry? Because you do sound more than a little angry, you know."

Emily turned her head, grimaced at Martha. "Is it too much to ask that they just leave me alone? No, don't answer that one. I'm a Colton, and that's the same as saying my whole life is an open book for every other Colton. Not only do they read it, but they also make notes in the margin, then have a discussion that would put one of Oprah's book reviews to shame."

"So why do they do that, Emily, do you think? Because they're a nosy bunch—bossy and manipulative—or because they love you?"

"I'm getting the idea you don't ask questions unless you already know the answers, Dr. Wilkes. It's because they love me, of course."

"I don't know all the answers, Emily. For instance, are you angry that they love you?"

Emily shot out of her chair, took a few steps, then turned to glare down at the psychologist. "I'm angry that they never believed me," she said, surprising herself with her own vehemence. "Ten years, Doctor, and they never believed me. They taught me how to ride a horse. They taught me to think for myself. They gave me love, they gave me everything. They did everything but trust me to know what I saw that day. None of this had to happen, damn it! Not Patsy, not Mom being so lost. Not Toby dying—"

She shut her mouth quickly, put both hands over her mouth as she stared at Martha, then slowly dropped her hands. "What did I just say?"

Martha patted the arm of the chair, urging Emily to sit down again. "Quite a lot, I'd say, my dear. You said quite a lot. Do you want to talk about this some more?"

Emily sat down, moving slowly, feeling fragile, like an old, old woman with brittle bones. "Yes. Yes, I do. I—I didn't realize I was so angry." She turned to look at Martha. "I love my family, Doctor. I love them all so much."

"But families aren't perfect," Martha said, nodding her head. "They make mistakes, most times out of love, sometimes because of their own denial of events, happenings, beyond their ability to understand them, believe them. You all suffered a terrible loss, Emily. All of you. But let's think about that for a moment, all right? Tell me, why do you think Joe and everyone else didn't believe you?"

"Because I was just a kid," Emily said quietly.

"And later? When you weren't a kid anymore? Why didn't they believe you then? Why couldn't you go to Joe, to one of your brothers or sisters, and tell them about the man you saw in your room? Why did you run away from your family, rather than toward them?"

Emily blinked back tears that stung at her eyes. She knew the answer, had discovered that answer in the cave, talking with Josh. "Because I didn't really believe it myself," she said, then sighed. "I'd begun to think Patsy was my mother, but that something had happened to her, happened to her head, the day of the accident. I believed she'd become mean, heartless, even mentally ill, dangerously ill." She looked at Martha. "I believed my own mother wanted me dead. How could I say any of that to my father?"

"So you ran," Martha said, folding her hands in her lap. "You ran, and you hid, and you were finally proved right when Meredith was found in Mississippi. Were you angry with your family then?"

Emily shook her head. "I was happy," she said, smiling wanly. "I was so happy." She was silent for a while before adding, "Until I went back to Keyhole and Toby got shot saving my life." She looked at Martha. "Sophie says he was a hero, and if I try to blame myself for his death, I'm stripping Toby of his sacrifice, making him into just another victim. He was a hero, wasn't he?"

"Yes, I'd say he was, and is, most definitely a hero. What does his brother say?"

"Josh?" Emily bent her head, played with the strings on the hood of her jacket, winding them around her fingers. "He…Josh says it's all right. He understands. He's proud of his brother."

"As well he should be. Is that all?"

Emily wet her suddenly dry lips. "I don't think I want to talk anymore, Doctor. Is that all right?"

"Is it?" Martha asked in return, and Emily smiled, shook her head. "No? I didn't think so. I've been told that Toby was in love with you, but that you considered him just a good friend. Your good friend, Josh's brother. You and Josh. You share Toby now, don't you?"

"Share him? No, Doctor, I don't think so. Josh can forgive me—has forgiven me—for Toby's death. I've even begun to forgive myself. But Toby loved me, and that means that Josh can't." She looked at Martha as she wiped tears from her cheeks with the cuff of her jacket. "Is that fair? We both loved Toby, but does that mean we have to give up any chance of our own happiness?"

Martha sat back in her chair, looking contemplative. Obviously she hadn't known all the answers. "You and Josh…you've had more than a single dinner together, haven't you?"

Emily gave a short bark of laughter. "Oh, you could say that, Doctor. You could say that we've had a whole lot more than a single dinner together. And now Josh is gone, saying there's no future for us because of Toby. I wish he'd never come here. I wish we'd never met."

"Josh has issues of his own, doesn't he?"

"Issues?" Emily dragged her hands through her hair. "Is that what they call taking a woman to bed and then telling her there's no future for them? Issues? Used to be, we just called men like that lousy no-good bastards."

"Yes, or vulnerable souls with things to work out, pain still to be worked through, and time needed for healing before the future can possibly be thought of in any really coherent way. Does he love you?"

Emily pulled a crumpled tissue from her pocket, blew her nose. "I don't know."

"Do you love him?"

"Love him? How could I love him? He left, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did leave, but for what reason? To protect himself, or to protect you?"

"How does leaving me protect me? I talked to him, and he listened. I thought he understood. In this whole mess, he was the one person I could really talk to. There was this…this bonding. From the moment we met." She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and looked at Martha. "It was like I'd met the other half of me, Doctor. Even as I hated him, I knew I needed him. And he felt it, too, he had to have felt it. So how could he walk away? How could he leave me?"

Martha closed her eyes a moment, collected her own thoughts. "Emily, you sometimes leave this rather lively household and go off on your own, don't you? To think. You need that time, cherish that time, and that very aloneness feeds you, strengthens you, helps you. Perhaps Josh also needs some alone time right now, some time to think, be by himself, work things through inside his head and heart. You'd understand that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Emily said slowly, nodding her head. "I'd understand that. Josh has been traveling the rodeo circuit for a lot of years. You've got a lot of alone time doing something like that, and except for Toby, I don't think he's the kind that needs to be surrounded by others all the time."

"So if he's upset and confused, he wouldn't immediately call two dozen of his closest friends, to talk about it?"

Emily's eyes softened, and she actually smiled. "No. I wouldn't either. It's something else we have in common, I suppose."

"Something besides Toby, you mean."

"Yeah," Emily whispered, turning her head, looking out toward the horizon.

"You know, Emily, I'm a therapist. I'm not a fortune teller. So I can't tell you if Josh will ever come back, because I don't know that. But you do. Deep in your heart and mind, you know. I'd like us to talk some more, Emily, about your family, about Patsy, about Silas Pike…and about Toby. I think you know you need to talk more about everything that happened. We all need time to heal, Emily. You do, Josh does. Maybe the timing wasn't quite right for Josh to come into your life, but someday it will be. You'd want to be ready for that, wouldn't you?"

"And if he doesn't ever come back?"

"You'll want to be ready for that, too, my dear."

"Yes," Emily said, sighing, but lifting her chin, feeling some of her old fight oozing back through her body. "Yes, I do, Doctor. I need to find me again, before I can be any good to anyone else."




Fourteen

The days were creeping up on Thanksgiving, and the Hacienda de Alegria had begun to swell with children and grandchildren come to celebrate the holiday.

Emily's cousin Liza had flown in with her baby, her husband staying behind and not due in until the day before the holiday. That gave Liza plenty of time to devote to the care and feeding and not always diplomatic prodding of Emily, who just couldn't seem to feel the same ease in telling personal secrets she and Liza had shared since childhood.

"Liza keeps asking me about Josh, and I keep changing the subject," Emily confided to Dr. Wilkes, who she now called Martha, as they'd spoken every day for the past week and had become friends. "Why am I doing that? I've never had secrets from Liza."

"What secret are you keeping from her now?" Martha asked, picking up her teacup as she and Emily sat together in the living room, just before bedtime, the large house quiet at last.

"That I'm talking to you about him, for one," Emily said around a mouthful of peanut butter cookie. "Umm, these are better than good. Inez has outdone herself. She's always baking all my favorites. I think I've gained five pounds this week."

Martha smiled. "Don't tell anyone I said so, but I think that's the plan," she told her, reaching for a cookie of her own. "Not my plan, because I could easily do without another five pounds myself. But I think I'm either going to have to develop a lot more willpower, or you're going to have to gain at least another five pounds so Inez backs off."

Emily grinned. "It's a conspiracy, is it? I thought so. And not that I'm complaining. All my clothes were getting too big for me, and I had to put another notch in my belt. I just had no appetite. Lately, however, I think I could eat anything that isn't nailed down. Why is that?"

"You're happier? More at peace with yourself? I should be walking around here, patting myself on my own back, for my brilliance?"

Now Emily laughed out loud. "No wonder you and Mom get along so well. You're as bad as she is. But seriously, Martha—I am feeling better. I'm sleeping more soundly, I've got an appetite, I'm not hiding in my room with the house full of family. Can it really be this easy? Talking to you, listening to myself as I talk to you—it really works?"

"That's what they told me in shrink school," Martha joked, then sobered. "You're a strong spirit, Emily, and you'd already gone a long way toward healing yourself. I just helped put on a few of the missing touches. So, tell me about Josh. Have you found anything else about him on the Internet?"

Emily popped the last of the cookie into her mouth, dusted her fingers together to get rid of any crumbs. "I already told you he took the overall in Phoenix. He didn't do quite as well two nights ago, in San Antonio, but he did win the calf-roping outright, and piled up a lot of points toward the national title. Which he's won twice, if I didn't tell you that before."

"You did," Martha answered, smiling. "Twice, as a matter of fact. So where is he now?"

Emily frowned. "I don't know. The rodeo moved on to Oklahoma, for an indoor show, but he isn't listed for any of the events." She shrugged her shoulders. "So I don't know where he is."

"Could he be coming here?"

Emily picked up another cookie, turned it back to front as if examining it for an answer. "I don't know, Doctor and Soothsayer. Could he?"

"Let me check my tea leaves," Martha said, lifting the empty cup and peering into it. "Darn, no tea leaves. I guess I'm going to have to wing this one, huh? Do I think he's coming here? Better question—do I think you're ready for him to come here? And the answer to that is, yes, I do. And, before you ask again, if Josh Atkins is half the man you tell me he is, I expect to be meeting him one day soon."

"Not that I need him to be complete," Emily said, her chin tilted up defiantly.

"Absolutely not."

"And not just because we went to bed together."

"Not since the old days of shotgun weddings," Martha agreed, smiling. "Although maybe you shouldn't try asking Joe about that one."

"And not just because I love him," Emily ended, sighing. "Oh, Martha, I do love him. I barely know him, but I love him. Unbelievably, I actually think I love him enough to let him go, which probably makes me certifiable, huh?"

Martha picked up the plate and held it out to Emily, grinning. "Don't think too much, my dear. Here, have another cookie. It'll be one less that I eat."

* * *

Josh drove through the night after leaving San Antonio, finally pulling over into a rest area when he felt his eyelids beginning to droop, sleeping a few hours in the cab of his truck, then getting back on the road again.

He'd left his horses and trailer with friends in the rodeo, knowing they'd be taken care of, and headed north with just his truck, his saddle and the jumble of clothes he stored in the cab. He traveled as he always had: alone, unencumbered.

And for the first time in his life, he felt lonely.

Another long drive, another few hours in a roadside motel, and by late the second day he'd arrived in Keyhole.

Toby's rent had been paid until the end of the year, and Josh still hadn't had the guts to go through his brother's personal effects, sort them, pack them away, so he headed straight for the apartment, planning to do just that.

Do that, and a few other things.

He pulled the key from his pocket and let himself into the apartment, his nose wrinkling as he smelled spoiled fruit, soon locating a bowl of nearly disintegrating apples on the kitchen counter.

Still wearing his Stetson and jacket, Josh opened all the windows, then rummaged through cabinets until he found a supply of plastic garbage bags. He tossed in the apples and what probably was once a banana, all the contents of the refrigerator and the kitchen trash can, then took the bags down to the Dumpster in the parking lot, disposing of it all.

Toby had kept his apartment neat, orderly, so it wasn't as if he'd walked into a mess. He had, however, walked in on a lot of memories Toby had spread through the rooms: photographs on every table, his sports equipment stacked in a corner of the living room, a framed magazine cover that showed Josh after he'd won his first national championship.

Josh stood in the middle of the room. Where did he go with everything? What did he do with it all? How did he get through this without breaking down, losing it?

"First, I eat," he said out loud, and headed to his truck, driving to the Mi-T-Fine Café where Emily had been employed, where she and Toby had met.

He sat in the last booth, his back to the wall, barely tasting the hamburger and fries he'd ordered, watching as people came and went, living their lives.

Toby's people. These were the men and women and children Toby had sworn to protect and serve. Nice people. Nice town. No one would think violence could ever come here, but it had. It had come, and it had gone, and life was moving on.

Josh's next stop was the local grocery store, where he loaded up on some lunch meat, bread, milk, a dozen eggs and an angel food cake, just because it appealed to him. Then it was back to the apartment, where he unloaded the food and his duffel bag, planning to crash on the couch rather than sleep in his brother's bed.

He sat on that couch as the night grew dark, not bothering to turn on any lights, but just sitting there, his hands on his knees, remembering. Toby with his two front teeth missing. Toby riding his first horse. Toby in a rented tux, taking Mary Sue Potenski to the prom. Toby in his sheriff's uniform, a pistol strapped to his leg, his smile so wide and proud it had made Josh's heart ache.

And the other memories. Toby crying for his mommy, who was never coming back. Toby small and scared and climbing into bed with him when their dad came home, roaring drunk. Toby hungry, and with nothing in the house to eat. Toby bravely smiling, saying it was all right if Santa forgot them this year. Toby holding his hand, walking beside him, depending on him, believing in him.

"Oh, God. Toby. Toby…" Josh said, leaning forward, dropping his head into his hands as, at last, after keeping all his emotions inside, locked up, hidden away, he cried for his brother.

* * *

Rebecca came up beside Martha, standing with her as the two women watched the kickball game in progress in the small gymnasium.

"Who's winning?" she asked, nodding her head toward the action.

"Tatania, mostly," Martha said, pride in her voice. "Oh, she hasn't scored, but she's out there. She's playing. She's interacting with the other kids. I consider that a victory all by itself."

"And we take our victories where we can find them, don't we?" Rebecca said, smiling. "Are the two of you going to town again this afternoon?"

"Yes, we are. Tatania has an appointment with the judge, thanks to all the red tape Joe was able to cut for us. She's going to tell him whether or not she wants to come live with me. Forever and ever, as Tatania says. Not that this will all happen overnight, of course, even with Joe's recommendations." She turned to Rebecca. "Although I have bought a house."

"You have? Oh, Martha, that's wonderful!" Rebecca said, hugging her friend. "Where?"

"Just outside Prosperino, in a lovely new development of single homes. It's not quite complete, so Tatania can pick the color of the carpet for her room, the colors for her bathroom, and there's an attached office, with zoning allowing professional businesses. There are already two doctors in the development, and I understand there are quite a few software designers working out of their homes."

"Are you talking east of the city? Because I think I know the area you mean. Those are huge homes, Martha. Huge and lovely."

Martha grinned. "It is big, I agree, but I have a feeling we'll be able to fill the rooms over the years. Tatania's told me she wants a big family. Besides, there's a community pool, and horseback riding trails, a lovely pocket park, and good schools close by. I think the judge will be impressed," she ended, sighing happily.

"I think the judge will ask you if he can move in, too," Rebecca said. "Seems you and Tatania will have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving."

"I can't begin to articulate how much, Rebecca," Martha said, then clapped and called out encouragement as Tatania gave the ball a good kick and scored a point. "Meredith tells me we'll have about forty for Thanksgiving dinner. Can you believe that?"

"Yes, I can. Small crowd. It seems some of us won't make it back home until Christmas this year," Rebecca told her, grinning. "This is our first big Thanksgiving in a long time, as we didn't really have family gatherings when Mom was gone. Just society parties Patsy enjoyed and we all hated. But that's all over now, and we're back to big, noisy get-togethers and Drake and Rand fighting over drumsticks. I can't wait!"

"Rebecca?"

Both women turned to see Blake Fallon's secretary, Holly Lamb, approaching them, her pretty face looking troubled.

"What is it, Holly?" Rebecca asked, and Martha quickly recognized the concern in her voice.

"It's the kittens, Rebecca," Holly told her, her eyes moist, as if she was fighting back tears. "You know how the children were so excited that Boots was having kittens? They all wanted to name them, see them as soon as they were born?"

"Yes, I know that. Boots should be giving birth any day now. So what's wrong?"

"They're dead, Rebecca. Boots had six kittens this morning, out in the barn, and they're all dead."

"Oh, God. None of the children saw, did they?"

Holly shook her head. "No, we took care of it. But isn't that strange, Rebecca, that all of them would be born dead? And you know we've been finding dead mice in the barn, and sometimes just lying around on the ground, as if they just lay down and died. It doesn't make sense, does it?"

Martha looked to Rebecca, waited for her answer.

"No, Holly, it doesn't make sense. I've been assured there are no poisons in the barn, or anywhere else at Hopechest, for that matter. Have you told Blake?"

"Yes, and he said not to say anything, at least not to anyone except you and a few others. But he's definitely going to start some sort of investigation."

Martha stepped forward a pace. "What about the children? Are any of the children sick?"

Rebecca shook her head. "No, not really. More than our usual run of colds, runny noses, but we did have a lot of damp, rainy weather this month. Oh, and Billy George has pneumonia. He was admitted to the hospital this morning, and he's going to be fine. Why? Surely you don't see a connection between some dead mice and kittens, and the children?"

"No, I suppose not," Martha said. "Sorry, Rebecca, it's just this new and highly sensitive mother-mode I've seemed to have developed since meeting Tatania. Don't pay me any attention at all—although I'm glad to hear that Blake is taking this seriously enough to start an investigation."

* * *

Josh stood in front of the stone marker, looking down at the inscription placed there and paid for by Toby's fellow officers, at their insistence. Toby's name, dates of birth and death were there, and one more thing, the words "A hero fallen in the line of duty. Always to be remembered."

Always to be remembered. That was nice. Josh put down the bouquet of flowers he'd brought, placing them beside others that still looked fresh. Toby was being remembered.

There was a small American flag stuck into the ground beside the gray granite stone, a flag that would probably be replaced once a year, donated by the women's auxiliary of some civic group or another.

Josh raised his head, looked out across the small cemetery. Neat. Orderly. Graves marching in curved rows, trees and benches scattered about, many of the graves marked with fresh flowers.

A peaceful place.

A place Toby Atkins didn't belong, not for at least another fifty years.

"I love you, buddy, and I miss you," Josh said, then turned away, headed back toward his truck, parked on the narrow macadam drive that wound through the cemetery.

Someone was standing beside his truck, a man dressed in the same sort of uniform Toby had worn with such pride. A blue-and-white police car was parked behind the truck, as if the officer had stopped to check up on the strange vehicle in his town's cemetery.

"Afternoon, Officer," Josh called out, donning his black Stetson once more, narrowing his eyelids as he looked at a kid as young and fuzzy-cheeked and earnest as Toby had been. "Can I help you?"

The officer leisurely pushed himself away from the side bumper of the truck, his hand held out to Josh. "You're Toby's brother, right? I think I remember you from the funeral. Good to see you."

"Good to see you," Josh answered automatically. "You worked with Toby?"

"Oh, yeah, we all did. One hell of a sheriff, one hell of a guy. See the flowers?"

Josh involuntarily looked over his shoulder, toward the headstone. "Yes, I saw them. Why?"

"Oh, no reason. Get new ones every week, you know, from that Emma Logan—Emily Colton, I mean. Regular as rain, every week, new flowers. She's got some sort of deal set up with Flossie, down at the flower shop. Isn't that something? He was crazy about her, you know. Just crazy about her."

Josh ducked his head, a muscle working in his left cheek. "Yes, I'd heard that. He was in love with her."

"Love? That so?" The officer reached up a hand, scratched under his hat. "Don't know how's I'd exactly call it love. More a sort of worshippin' from afar, as my wife called it. He had that girl on such a pedestal, none of us think he'd have known how to handle it if she ever even hinted that she wanted…you know, more?"

Josh rubbed at his forehead, kept his eyes averted. "So they didn't…date?"

"Date? Good God, no. Toby drank coffee at the café, took to visiting her at night, checking up on her safety he called it. But that's it. He knew it wasn't going anywhere, but that was all right by him. My wife thought it was really romantic, you know? Women, what do they know, right? Well, I gotta get moving. School lets out soon, and with old man Baxter laid up with a broken leg, I'm in charge of the school crossing on Seventh." He tipped his hat, headed for his truck, calling back to Josh, "Nice seeing you. And don't you worry none, we're still watching over Toby, and always will."

"Thank you," Josh said, then watched as the squad car backed up, pulled out onto the narrow roadway and drove away. "I mean it, you know," he said after the officer was gone. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

It was time to pack up Toby's things. Sort them out, give his clothes to the local charity, donate the furniture, hand the key back to the landlord. It was time to accept what couldn't be changed, and get on with life. Never to forget his brother, never to fully get over the loss, but definitely time to let go of the bad, start reaching for the good. Wasting his own life wouldn't bring back his brother, wouldn't honor the memory of his brother. Even a fool such as himself knew that.

Suddenly, he knew a lot of things.

Toby hadn't loved Emily, he hadn't understood her. If he had, he'd know that she was a woman, all woman, and that the last thing she needed, or wanted, was to be put on a pedestal, worshipped as if she were some fragile angel who couldn't be touched for fear she'd melt away.

Emily needed to be loved, everyone needed to be loved, but she also needed to feel alive, desired, not worshipped. She was flesh and blood, not gossamer.

And she'd been right. If Silas Pike had never come to Keyhole, if Josh had come instead, to visit his brother, he would never have walked away, leaving Toby to his first puppy love, and Emily to her pedestal.

He would have moved in, taken, shown Emily desire, fed their mutual hunger. And sure, it would have hurt Toby. For a while. There would have been no avoiding that.

But it would have happened. As sure as he knew his own name, he knew Emily was right, and it would have happened. She was his other half, she was the spark that made him come alive, she was feelings and needs and even demands, and he had recognized her the moment he first saw her, because even without knowing it, he'd been looking for her all of his life.

So what the hell was he doing with motel reservations in Tulsa?

Not much. Not with his truck heading toward California.




Fifteen

Meredith snuggled close to Joe, her cheek against his chest, sated and happy in the afterglow of loving. They were like newlyweds again, making love every night, sometimes during the day, when Joe would come find her, take her hand, lead her to the bedroom.

They laughed, even giggled together, couldn't get enough of each other.

And the deep worry lines around Joe's mouth had begun to soften. The nightmares had disappeared, both his and hers. They fell asleep in each other's arms, woke happy to greet each new day.

But this grand new life, this second chance, was not without its worries. Life was never without worries, Meredith knew. Still, shared worries were easier to carry.

And shared joys were that much happier.

"Emily's smiling again," she said as Joe yawned into his hand. Honestly, the man seemed to think he could survive on five hours of sleep a night and considerable "exercise" while in his bed. Not that Meredith was complaining. "Joe? Did you hear me? I said, Emily's smiling again. And eating."

"You didn't say that the first time. The part about eating," Joe told her, ruffling her hair. "See? And you accused me of not listening."

"My apologies," Meredith told him, snuggling closer. "But you do agree with me, don't you? Martha won't say anything, and I don't expect her to breach a confidence, but I think she also believes Emily is coming to grips with what happened, beginning to get on with her life."

"We all knew she would," Joe said. "Emily bounces, she doesn't break."

"And Emily is in love," Meredith told him, just because he sounded so smug. "You knew that, too, didn't you?"

Joe moved to sit up against the headboard, slightly dislodging Meredith from her comfortable position. "In love? With whom? The only person I can even think of is Josh Atkins, and they only went out to dinner that one time before he left town so it couldn't be—Is it him?"

"Liza thinks so, and unlike Martha, she isn't bound by professional privilege. You know, I'd like to be around to plan at least one of my daughters' weddings. Not that I would ever picture Emily wanting a huge wedding."

"How do you women do it?" Joe asked, sitting up even straighter. "One date, and you're planning a wedding. I barely know this boy."

"It's not you who has to know him, Joe. Or don't you trust Emily to make good decisions?"

"Got me again, didn't you?" Joe said, sighing, pretending to be insulted. "So, if you're right, and Emily and Josh are going to get together, all I can say is that I'm glad my tux still fits. It's gotten quite a workout lately."

"I always thought you looked so handsome in formal wear, darling," Meredith told him, reaching up to pat his cheek. "Even if those tight collars always make your face go a little red."

"A little—Hey! I thought you said I looked handsome."

"And you do, you do, but you're twice as handsome in a soft shirt and a nice sweater. More cuddly."

"Cuddling's good," Joe said, reaching for her, but Meredith held him away, knowing she had something else to tell him. She'd saved the news all day, holding it close, waiting until Joe was relaxed, ready to listen.

"Austin phoned earlier today," she said, which effectively halted Joe's next romantic move. "He has some news."

"Already? I didn't think he'd be this quick. Good or bad news?" Joe asked, pulling back the covers, slipping his arms into his bathrobe. "No, wait, let me get a drink of water, and I'll be right back."

Meredith just nodded, knowing he was using the excuse of being thirsty in order to give himself time to shift gears, talk about anything that had even remotely to do with Patsy. If it were up to Joe, Patsy's name would never be mentioned again in this house, in his lifetime.

"Okay," he said a few moments later, reentering the room from the bathroom. "What did Austin have to say?"

Meredith also got out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown and came to sit with Joe at the bottom of the mattress. "He says he thinks he may have found Jewel."

Joe took a sip of water, then held on to the glass with both hands. "Okay. Now the big question, Meredith. Was she already looking for Patsy?"

"Yes," Meredith said, her eyes stinging with tears. "Yes, she was. So now we have to decide, Joe. We have to decide if Jewel should know about Patsy, about Ellis Mayfair. It's a lot to handle, for anyone."

"And it's not really our decision, sweetheart," Joe told her, looking deeply into Meredith's eyes. "Is it?"

"No, I suppose not. And there are Joe, Jr. and Teddy, Jewel's half brothers. How can we deny any of them that sort of knowledge?"

Joe slipped his arm around Meredith's shoulders. "Looks like all our questions are already answered, sweetheart, and any decisions already made. I'll phone Austin in the morning, let him get the ball rolling. Where is she, this Jewel?"

"Ohio. Medford, Ohio. A long, long way from Prosperino. She was adopted—Austin called it a black-market adoption—and her adoptive parents kept the name she was given, Jewel Mayfair, and added their own name, Baylor, to the mix. The bad news is we can't go after the terrible lawyer who forged all the necessary papers that made it seem legal for Jewel to be placed for adoption, because it all happened so long ago. He would have had to know that Ellis was dead, that Patsy was in jail. So he'd have had to have forged any signatures."

"Yes. Ellis must have had the papers all drawn up before the birth, so only the name and sex had to be filled out the day Jewel was born, the same day Ellis delivered her to the lawyer. And the lawyer would have had adoptive parents all set and ready to go, and collected all the money, including Ellis's share. Nice day's work, the bastard."

Meredith nodded, for Joe had said much the same things Austin had said, both men having come to the same conclusions. "But the Baylors probably never knew they were part of anything illegal."

Sighing, Joe drew Meredith closer to him. "Well, that's all water under the bridge, as the saying goes. Jewel has to be in her early thirties now, and Austin says she is searching for her birth mother. So we bring her here, as our guest, and break it to her gently about her parents once we've welcomed her to the family. Because she is family. Can you handle this, babe?"

Meredith slipped her arms around Joe's waist, gave him a squeeze. "I can handle anything, darling, as long as I have you. And I already told Austin you'd probably be phoning him in the morning. It's nice to know that I still know you so well. You've a good heart, Joe Colton. A good heart."

* * *

Thanksgiving morning dawned bright and sunny after two straight days of rain, which was a good thing, because the younger members of the Colton family had all begun suffering some fairly major cabin fever and needed to be outside, playing off some of their built-up energy.

Joe, Jr. and Teddy had already escaped to the lawn with Rand's adopted son, Max, five years old and a perpetual motion machine in jeans and a Washington Redskins sweatshirt. Joe had brought along his football, and the three were throwing—and mostly chasing after—the ball, laughing and giggling and pretty much being all-American kids. When Wyatt and Annie Russell's twin sons, Alex and Noah, joined the other boys, and Drake, Wyatt, and Rand got into the action, the game truly was on.

Inside, in the spacious living room, Thad Law's daughter, Brittany, was, at the ripe old age of nearly five, putting herself in charge of Sophie's daughter, Meggie, and Drake and Maya's beautiful little girl Marissa. It was Brittany who doled out rattles and balls, and then took them away again when the mood struck her. Lana Reilly, pregnant with twins, sat on one of the couches, shaking her head at the scene. "And I thought someday I wanted six or more children? I believe I'm going to have to rethink that one and get back to you all later, say when the twins are in kindergarten."

Sophie James reached down to bring her unhappy child up and onto her lap, handing over her daughter's favorite thing in the whole world, her rawhide teething ring. "Oh, don't plan that far ahead, Lana," she told her. "Motherhood, I'm learning, is pretty much a one-day-at-a-time thing, at least when they're this young. Now, if you want to start talking braces and college funds, well, that's when River and I start getting the shivers."

Liza walked into the room and collapsed into one of the overstuffed chairs. "Whew, that's one down, hopefully to sleep for at least an hour. Thank heavens that child of mine still believes in morning naps. You know, ladies," she said, gazing down at the chubby-cheeked children on the carpet, "we really have to get a family photograph. Wide-angle lens, of course, to get us all in."

"Especially me," Lana said, putting both hands on her swollen belly. "Where are Emily and Amber? Don't you think they'd want to baby-sit, so that we can all head for the kitchen and another cup of tea? It would be good practice, especially for Amber."

"Amber? Baby-sit?" Sophie said, smiling at the babies. "I don't think she's planning this far ahead yet. But wait, maybe we have a volunteer," she said as Emily wandered into the room. "Em? Want to baby-sit while the rest of us girls run off to some warm, tropical island?"

"Or the kitchen, which is closer," Lana said. "I'm not quite built for bikinis right now."

Emily laughed, then sat down on the floor beside Brittany, who was stacking blocks for Maya's daughter's edification. "You know, we've got people missing for Thanksgiving dinner, but everyone has promised to be here for Christmas. Can you imagine the madhouse? Mom's loving every minute of it. She and Inez are in the kitchen now, basting two of the biggest turkeys I've ever seen. Amber's setting the table, and I came to hide out in here, sort of blend in with the crowd, hoping nobody finds me and puts me to work."

As if on cue, Meredith walked into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Emily? There's a huge bag of vegetables in the refrigerator with your name on it. How about cutting up some carrots and celery?"

"Oh, darn, Meredith, the one thing I'm good at, and you're giving the job away," Martha Wilkes said, entering from the foyer, Tatania holding tightly to her hand. "Tatania? Would you like to stay with the babies while I help out in the kitchen?"

Emily looked at Martha's foster child, soon to be legally adopted child, and her heart melted. What a sweetheart! Dainty, quite petite, with huge light brown eyes framed by the thickest, longest, most curly lashes she'd ever seen. Tatania looked at the people sitting together in a group, then up at Martha. "Can't I stay with you?"

Martha bent down, so that she was face-to-face with Tatania. "Sure, sweetheart, you can stay with me. But you don't have to. You can do anything you want."

Tatania tipped her head to one side, obviously in deep thought, for she'd been given a choice. Better, she'd been given the right to choose. "Okay, then I'll go back outside and watch the football game. They're funny."

She turned and ran toward the door, Martha calling after her that she shouldn't forget her jacket, and then the doctor looked at the assembled women and shook her head. "I'm learning who you all are, and rather proud of that fact, but I'm not quite sure just who goes with whom. So…which one is Chance?"

"He's mine," Lana said, not quite able to keep the pride out of her voice.

"Oh, really? Well, in that case, maybe you ought to know that he made a wonderful, diving catch just as Tatania and I arrived, then landed face-first in a rather large mud puddle. Then your husband," she said, turning to Sophie, "piled on top of him, and the two started rolling around in the mud. By the time I could pull Tatania away, I believe Joe, Jr. and little Max had joined in."

"Oh, this I've got to see," Sophie said, getting up from her seat, holding Meggie on her hip as she headed toward the front door. "Ladies, shall we all go take a look? And hope that the garden hose is still connected out front, so we can wash them all off?"

Emily stayed where she was as everyone else gathered up babies and went to see what was going on outside, her knees bent beneath her as she gathered blocks and began stacking them.

"Emily?" Martha said, coming over to the couch and sitting down for a moment. "How are you doing today?"

"Fine," Emily said brightly. Too brightly. "That is, I'm okay."

Martha nodded her head. "Lots of couples here today, aren't there?"

"Hanging from the rafters," Emily agreed, knocking down the small tower of blocks. "I've asked Amber to set a place for me at the kiddie table."

"Because you're the only one without a partner?"

"Yeah," Emily said, getting to her feet. "Something like that."

Martha rubbed a hand over her mouth, looked up at Emily, her friend and patient. "Holidays can be a hard time to be alone, Emily. This isn't a setback, it's a rite of passage."

"I know, and I'll be fine," Emily assured her. "But I had this little…fantasy. I thought I could introduce Josh to everyone today. I guess that isn't going to happen."

"It may never happen, Emily. You know that, we've discussed that."

Emily squeezed her hands together in front of her. "Oh, I'm just so mad at him! How can he know what we had and then walk away? I mean, fine, great, go somewhere, get your head screwed on straight. That's okay. But then come back. Even if it's only to say 'Sorry, Emily, this isn't going to work out.' He could at least have done that, couldn't he? Don't I deserve at least that?"

Martha stood up, put an arm around Emily's shoulders and said wryly, "Well, it would appear we've passed beyond the self-pitying and mourning stage, and gone on to anger. Believe it or not, Emily, acceptance comes next."

"Oh, really?" Emily said, pulling away from Martha's gentle touch. "Well, I'm not ready for that yet, let me tell you! I'm mad, Martha. I'm really, really mad at him." Her shoulders slumped. "It's easier to be mad at him."

Martha gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I'll go cut up those vegetables, Emily, and you go wash your face, maybe take a walk, all right?"

Emily touched her cheeks, realized they were wet. "Oh, Josh Atkins," she said, shaking her head, "you don't know how lucky you are that you're not here, because if you were, I'd brain you with a turkey leg."

"Well," Martha remarked to the empty room, watching Emily stomp away, "I suppose there's all sorts of progress."

* * *

All three leaves had been added to the already massive dining room table, and two smaller tables had been set up in the entryway between the dining and living rooms. Silver platters and dishes piled with food lined two buffet tables, and everyone filled their plates, then found their assigned seats, saving Inez and the other kitchen helpers a lot of bother.

Emily sat with Joe, Jr. and Teddy and Max, as well as Amber and Tripp, who had taken pity on her, so that Amber made sure to put their place cards alongside her sister.

"Max is Emily's date," Teddy said with a giggle, his hair still damp from the shower he and all the other "boys" had been forced to take before they could come to dinner. "Joe told me so."

"I'm not old enough to have a date," Max said with a seriousness that belied his years. "But if you'd help cut my meat, Aunt Emily, I'll play Nintendo with you after dessert."

Emily smiled at the boy, tousled his hair. "And that's a date, Max," she said. "Can it be one of those car racing games? I'm pretty good at those."

"Think you can beat me, do you?" Max sat back, crossed his arms over his small chest, sighed. "Women," he said, comically sighing and rolling his eyes.

Everyone at the table burst into laughter, the precocious Max having struck again, and Emily actually found the appetite she'd thought she'd lost the past two days.

She was just raising a forkful of stuffing to her mouth when Inez came into the dining room to say that there was a guest come to the back door.

"The kitchen door? Why not the front door?" Joe asked, half rising from his seat at the head of the table. "Who is it, Inez? Did he give you his name?"

"He says he came to the back door, hoping to be able to speak to you or Mrs. Colton. And he says his name is Atkins. Josh Atkins."

Emily's fork dropped onto her plate with a clank, then bounced onto the floor.

"Emily?" Amber asked, touching her sister's arm. "Honey, are you all right? You're white as a sheet."

"I'm fine, Amber," Emily heard herself say, knowing how strange her voice sounded to her own ears. "Excuse me. I—I want to get something out of my room."

"Emily, sit," Joe said, already heading for the kitchen. In moments he was back, Josh with him, dressed in stovepipe style jeans, a soft blue-and-green striped shirt, his tan suede coat unbuttoned, his black Stetson curled in his hands.

"Everybody, this is Josh Atkins," Joe said as he took up his place once more, standing behind his chair. "Josh, this is almost everybody. But we can do the introductions later, I think. I'm pretty sure the one you're looking for is over there, at the kiddie table."

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir," Josh said, and headed down the length of the table, straight at Emily, who kept her back turned even as she heard his boots on the parquet floor, his spurs jingling with each step he took. "Emily?"

She picked up her napkin, dabbed at the corners of her mouth, wishing her hands weren't shaking so badly. "Josh," she said, not turning around, not looking at him.

"Could we be more…private?" he asked, the intimate tone of his voice curling her toes inside her shoes.

"Why?" she asked, sitting tight, hanging on to her anger. How dare he just show up, as if he had nothing better to do, so he might as well come by, see if there was any extra turkey.

"Emily…" Josh repeated, this time a warning tone invading his voice. She felt her chair being pulled out, and resisted the juvenile impulse to grab hold of the edge of the table.

She felt stupid, sitting there, her chair pulled away from the table, Joe, Jr. and Teddy and Max looking at her, eyes wide, then looking up at Josh. "Wow, cool," Max, a resident of Washington, D.C., said at last. "A real cowboy."

"Come on, Emily," Josh said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "We need to talk."

No, they didn't. Because maybe he'd say he'd come back just to say goodbye. It was one thing, one awful thing, that he'd left. But what if he'd only come back to tell her he'd thought it all over, and he'd been right, there was no future for them. As long as he was gone, she could believe he might come back and tell her he loved her. But now he was here, and she was frightened, so very frightened.

And angry.

"Took your sweet time getting here, didn't you?" she heard herself ask him. "San Antonio was six days ago."

"You've been keeping tabs on me? How about that. Why, Emily? Tell me why. Oh, for crying out—Come here," Josh said, jamming his Stetson down hard on his head. Then he bent down, scooping Emily up and over his shoulder and headed back toward the door to the kitchen.

"Sit down, Rand, Drake," Meredith said, waving a hand toward her sons, who had risen from their chairs, ready to defend their sister. "River, you and Tripp and the rest of you, too. Can't you see everything's just fine?"

"Just fine?" Rand asked, subsiding into his chair. "You couldn't have proved that by me," he said as Josh stopped at the head of the table, looked down at Meredith. Emily squirmed against him, but she wasn't saying anything.

"Ma'am," Josh said, tipping his Stetson at Meredith.

"Maybe you'll be back in time for dessert," Meredith said, smiling up at him.

"Yes, ma'am, and thank you. I hope you'll excuse us now, ma'am, Senator?"

"You're going to tell her how it's going to be, aren't you, son?" Joe asked, smiling. "Good."

"Dad!" Emily exclaimed, lifting her head as Josh pushed open the swinging door, headed out through the kitchen. "How can you say such a thing? Josh, put me down! Put me down this instant. Josh, do you hear me, I said—"

The slamming of the kitchen door effectively cut off anything else Emily might have said, and moments later Inez pushed open the swinging door, poked her head into the dining room once more. "He took her outside and put her in his truck, and she didn't try to get out again. They're driving away now."

"Thank you, Inez," Joe said, his wife's hand slipping into his, closing tight. "Now how about some champagne? I think we've got some celebrating to do."




Sixteen

It was quiet inside the cab of the truck as Josh steered it through the gates of the Hacienda de Alegria, onto the open road.

He looked over at Emily, secure inside her seat belt. "Aren't you going to ask me where we're going?"

Emily sat, facing front, arms crossed over her chest. "I can't. I'm not talking to you."

"Oh, well, in that case—"

She cut him off. "How could you do that to me? Come waltzing into the house—on Thanksgiving, no less, and right in the middle of dinner—and then just pick me up and carry me out of there?"

"Funny, I thought you weren't talking to me," Josh remarked, turning into the drive leading to Sophie and River's ranch house.

"I lied, so sue me, why don't you," Emily grumbled, then peered through the windshield. "This is Sophie's house. What are we doing at Sophie's house?"

Josh pulled the truck to a stop, cut the ignition. "We're borrowing it, with her permission, I might add. The cave was too far away."

"Borrow…? We're borrowing it?" Emily shook her head, trying to clear it. "And Sophie gave you permission? Oh, I don't believe it! Wait, yes I do. And she never said anything to me. She never said a single word!"

"Unlike her sister, who says she isn't going to say a single word, then starts talking a blue streak. Now, are you coming along willingly, Emily," he asked, holding up a ring of keys, "or am I going to have to carry you again?"

"River didn't know," Emily said, pretty much talking to herself as she climbed out of the cab, stepped onto the wide front porch of the house. "He was one of them standing up, ready to come to my rescue while Dad was throwing me to the wolves. Wolf," she corrected, glaring at Josh's back as he bent to insert the key in the front door.

Josh pushed open the door, reached inside against the wall to flip on the lights. "River didn't know, if River is Sophie's husband, which I'm assuming he is. Nobody knew. Nobody except Sophie, that is."

"How?" Emily asked, rubbing her arms against the chill as the warmth of the house reminded her she'd been dragged outside without her coat. "How did Sophie get in on this?"

"I met with her yesterday," Josh admitted, trying to stop looking at Emily, knowing he must look as if he wanted to eat her up, right now, before he had a chance to tell her, to explain. "I, well, I was here, and trying to figure out how to approach you. You're right, you know, there are one whole hell of a lot of Coltons, and most of them seem to be on the ranch right now."

"Yes, and you made one really swell first impression on all of them a few minutes ago," Emily said, sniffing. "I wouldn't be surprised if Max asks to take you home with him so he can drag you to school for show and tell."

Emily was pacing, striding back and forth across the large carpet, clenching and unclenching her hands.

Josh thought she looked magnificent.

"Are you going to let me tell you what you say you want to know, or not?" he asked after a few moments, and Emily stopped, glared at him, then finally subsided onto the couch. "Ah, that's better. I think."

"Tell me about Sophie," Emily said, looking at him, yet not quite looking at him, as if she didn't want to see too much of him if he might go away again. As if he'd ever go away again.

"I was parked at the side of the road, outside the gates, trying to figure out how I was going to be able to get you alone, talk to you, and Sophie drove up, parked behind me. I forgot that my license plate says RODEO RDR," he explained. "Anyway, your sister saw the license and figured out the rest."

"That sounds like Sophie," Emily said, nervously pleating the folds of her soft navy wool skirt. "Go on."

Josh looked at the chairs, the couch, and then perched himself on the edge of the coffee table, close in front of Emily. "I told her my problem, she said surprise attacks always work best, and we came up with a plan. The Byde-A-Wee Motel just wouldn't cut it, you know, and I needed to be able to take you someplace private. Sophie did say that she hoped I'd talk fast and that you'd listen, wouldn't throw anything, because she really likes her knickknacks, or whatever it is she called them. Now, are we going to go around and around about this, or can I tell you I'm an idiot? A big, stupid, hardheaded idiot."

Emily turned her head, so that he could only see her in profile. "Emily?"

"You're not an idiot," she said, so softly he had to lean forward to hear her. "Toby did love me, and that can't be changed. Toby's dead, and that can't be changed, either."

"True," Josh said, nodding his head. "All true. And for a while, Emily, that's all I could see. But I see more than that now."

She turned back to face him. "What do you mean? What's changed?"

"Nothing," Josh said, a slight, sad smile on his face.

"Oh," Emily said, trying to rise, but Josh's hands shot out, pushing her back down onto the couch.

"Emily, Toby is gone. I love him, will always love him, but he's gone. We can't change that, and we can't live the rest of our lives denying what's between us. That's no way at all to remember the best brother a man ever had, the best friend you ever had. Toby wouldn't want me to mourn him forever, and he didn't save you so that you could spend the rest of your life alone. That we met, that we…loved, is a good thing, a very good thing. I think Toby would be happy for both of us."

"Are—" Emily stopped, sighed. "Are you sure?"

"Am I sure I love you?" Josh asked, reaching for her, pulling her into his arms. "Sweetheart, I've never been so sure of anything in my life. What worries me is if you'll want anything to do with a soon-to-be-retired rodeo rider who wants nothing more than to marry you, settle down and raise a bunch of kids."

Emily's shoulders, which she had been holding stiff, relaxed, her entire expression relaxed, and tears flooded her eyes. "Martha was right," she said, the unfamiliar name making him frown slightly. "She said I could survive without you, that I could come to terms with everything that's happened, and heal myself. And I've done it. I could go on without you."

Josh shook his head. "I don't understand."

Emily's smile deepened, broadened. "Oh, that's all right, darling. You don't have to understand. You just need to know that, even though I could go on without you, I don't want to. I love you, Josh. I've loved you forever."

* * *

"How has she been?" Meredith asked the doctor as they stood outside the lounge area where the patients/inmates met with visitors.

The doctor shrugged. "I think we've hit on a good combination of drugs, Mrs. Colton, but your sister can be very inventive in finding ways of not taking them. Still, she's been on her best behavior since your phone call yesterday, telling us about Dr. Hanford here."

Jewel Mayfair Baylor Hanford stepped forward a pace and smiled at the doctor. "It was good of you to arrange this meeting so quickly, Doctor," she said. "I know I should have waited, but after so many years, all I could think to do was find the fastest way here from Ohio."

Meredith squeezed Jewel's hand. The two had met at the ranch, Joe having sent his private plane for her niece only two days after Austin had been satisfied Jewel was definitely Patsy's daughter. Jewel had left her husband and two young children behind in Medford, and planned to fly home again that same evening.

She looked so much like her mother, and like Meredith. There had been no need for DNA tests, and there certainly had been no more questions once Jewel and Meredith had come face-to-face. This was her niece, her sister's daughter. Dr. Jewel Hanford, child psychologist.

"And you're all right with this?" the doctor asked Jewel. "I must say that I was heartened to hear of your background in psychology. It should make things easier all around, although I'm sure nothing about these next few minutes is going to be particularly easy."

"Which is why I'd like to get them over with as soon as possible," Jewel said, and Meredith smiled at the hint of velvet steel in her niece's voice. Patsy may have made a terrible mess of her own life, but Jewel was not Patsy. She was strong, yet loving. Highly intelligent and ready to accept whatever she found once that last door between herself and her biological mother was finally opened.

"Yes, yes of course," the doctor stammered, and inserted a key into the lock, then stood back, allowing Meredith to enter the lounge ahead of him.

"Patsy?" Meredith began, looking at her sister, who was standing at the barred window, her back to the room. She'd lost more weight, and the drab blue wraparound dress hung on her thin shoulders. "Patsy, Jewel's here with me."

"Saw her," Patsy bit out, still with her back turned. "Saw the two of you, down there, when you got out of the car. Now get her the hell out of here."

Meredith looked to Jewel in confusion, hurting for the rejected child.

"It's all right, Mrs. Colton," Jewel assured her. "Maybe if you just give us a few minutes alone? Doctor? Is that all right with you?"

The doctor looked at her, then finally nodded his head. "We'll be right outside, and there's a glass in the window, so we can observe."

"Thank you, Doctor," Jewel said, then smiled reassuringly at her aunt.

Meredith and the doctor retreated to the other side of the door, both of them watching through the wired glass as Jewel stood where she was and Patsy remained, back still turned, at the window.

"What's going on?" Meredith asked. "I don't understand, Doctor. All these years, all Patsy has wanted was to find her daughter."

"Yes, and now the fantasy has become reality, and she's too ashamed to face that daughter. I said the new combination of antipsychotic drugs seemed to be working. Unfortunately, they're working well enough for your sister to have enough of a grasp on reality to know that her daughter may just reject her now, and with good reason."

"Oh, poor Patsy," Meredith said, blinking back tears. "And I thought we'd done a good thing."

Meredith watched as Jewel slowly took one step forward, then another. Jewel was talking, although Meredith couldn't make out the words, but just the low, reassuring tone of her voice.

Jewel advanced until she was standing directly behind Patsy, and Meredith could see the bone-white of her sister's knuckles as they held on to the bars at the window.

And then, slowly, Patsy turned around. The look on her face made Meredith gasp, for never had she seen such love in her sister's eyes, such hope.

Patsy reached out, laid her palm against Jewel's face, and Jewel lifted her hand, pressed it on top of her mother's. The pair stood there, just that way, for long moments, before Jewel put her arms around her mother and held her close.

Meredith searched in her purse for a handkerchief, then turned away, to give her sister some privacy. "What now, Doctor? What now?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Colton. I'd like to say that Miss Portman will recover, but I think we both know that's impossible. Drugs or not, she's slowly slipping away from us, into a world that shields her from reality and all she's done. The impersonation, the murders, everything. She'll never leave here, Mrs. Colton, and in time, she'll be content to stay, and forget the rest of the world even exists. I'm sorry, but you should know that. Dr. Hanford should know that."

Meredith looked through the glass, to see Patsy and Jewel sitting side-by-side, Jewel showing Patsy the same family photographs she'd shown her earlier in the day, showing Patsy her grandchildren. Meredith felt her heart break and swell at the same time, her happiness tinged with sadness, yet hope conquering all.

"I think she knows, Doctor. But for now she's found her biological mother and two half brothers. She's found them, and an entire family who will love her and welcome her and her family into our lives. And, strange as it may sound when I say it, with Jewel in our lives now, I've sort of gotten my sister back, haven't I? So you see, there's a happy ending here, of sorts. Isn't there, Doctor?"

* * *

"Oh, I just love this dress, Emily," Sophie said, holding the flowing skirt of her deep burgundy bridesmaid's dress and twirling about in a circle. "I'm so glad if you were only going to have one attendant that you picked me."

"And you're just lucky I've forgiven you for not telling me Josh was here for a full day and night before he came to see me," Emily told her, not for the first time. "Here, help me with this necklace, please. Aunt Sybil says I have to wear it, but I can't manage the clasp. I'm so nervous."

"With Aunt Sybil in the house, who isn't?" Sophie joked. "Mom is sure she'll set fire to the place with one of her cigarettes. Hold still," she went on as Emily bent her knees so that Sophie could drape the antique pearls around her neck. "There, that does it, and not a moment too soon, because here comes Dad to walk you down the aisle."

Joe Colton had knocked on the open door to Emily's room, stepping inside with all the ease of a man going to face a firing squad. "You're all decent in here, I hope?" he asked, nervously averting his eyes. Meredith had sent him in here, and he wasn't sure he was up to it, up to seeing Emily in her wedding gown.

"Oh, would you look at him, Emily? Dad, you're blushing. Here, look at Emily."

Joe sighed, then turned his head and looked at his daughter. He saw the little girl who had held his hand, crawled into his lap, said his whiskers "tick-licked" her when she kissed him good night. "You're beautiful, Emily," he said, his voice catching in his throat, his face just as red as Meredith had predicted it would be above the tight collar of his tuxedo shirt. "And everybody's waiting, so let's get on with this, okay?"

Sophie whispered in Emily's ear, "Our dad, one big soft, squishy marshmallow. Come on, Emily, Josh is waiting, and I don't think he's a patient man."

Emily saw her not very patient man as she walked into the living room of the Hacienda de Alegria on her father's arm. He stood with the minister, just in front of the huge fireplace, wearing a tuxedo he'd just bought and new snakeskin cowboy boots that had come courtesy of the boot company whose products he endorsed. He looked tall, and handsome, and scared out of his mind.

Emily smiled at him, and he looked at her, blinked, took one involuntary step forward before waiting for the small procession to make its way past the rented chairs, then held out his hand to her.

Joe took Emily's hand and placed it in Josh's as the minister asked, "Who gives this woman's hand in marriage?" He answered, "Her mother and I," before joining Meredith in the first row of chairs.

"You're the most beautiful woman in the world," Josh whispered as he and Emily turned toward the minister. "And I'm the world's luckiest man."

* * *

Emily and Josh planned to fly to New Mexico in the morning, rejoining the rodeo tour as Josh made his farewell appearances, which would last for the next few months. They could have waited until the spring to marry, but the idea of being separated again, even for a moment, weighed heavy in their decision.

Emily stood to one side of the small, cleared spot that served as a dance floor, and watched as Josh danced to piped-in music with a clearly infatuated Tatania, knowing it would soon be time for them to leave, as they had booked the bridal suite at a hotel close to the airport.

"Tatania's having a good time," Martha said, her face glowing with motherly pride. "I think she's danced with every man here, the little minx."

"How is she feeling?" Emily asked, moving her weight from one foot to the other, as her new white satin high heels were beginning to pinch. All she wanted now was to get out of this gown and into comfortable clothes, all with the hope that Josh would soon get her out of them again.

"Better," Martha answered, looking at her daughter. "But I'm so glad that Blake agreed that I could bring her home with me, to our new home. There are so many children down with that flu at Hopechest. I'm glad she isn't around all those germs."

"Yes, Rebecca says they've got their hands full right now. The flu, you say? So that's what it is?"

"So far, that's what it is," Martha told her, sighing. "Even though she's getting rest and lots of chicken soup, don't you think it strange that Tatania got so much better once she was away from Hopechest? Oh, never mind. Blake's on it. We'll have an answer soon."

"I'm sure you will," Emily said, kissing Martha's cheek. "Have I told you lately how grateful I am that you were here for me, to listen to me, to be my friend?"

"That's a two-way street, Emily. The Coltons have changed my life, and I'm eternally grateful."

"Mom and Dad. They did it all. Aren't they wonderful? What time is it, Martha?"

"Are you thinking the same thing I am?" Martha asked, coming to stand beside Emily. "Dinner's over, the cake's been cut, you've tossed your bouquet, which Tatania caught, and Josh threw the garter, which Max caught, then promptly stuck on his head. I'd say it's time, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, Martha, I would," Emily agreed, looking toward the dance floor, where her mother and father swayed together, Meredith's head on Joe's shoulder. "I'll alert the minister."

"And I'll go find Inez, who's probably loading another tray of goodies for everyone. After all, she's the one who first gave me the idea."

A few minutes later, Rand crossed to the fireplace and signaled that River turn off the stereo system, then clapped his hands to gain everyone's attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, smiling at the small company of friends and family, "we've had a lovely wedding, and the family thanks you all for coming. We've welcomed a new member to our family today and heard him and Emily exchange the vows that will sustain them through the years, the good times and bad, the happy times and the sad. Vows," he continued as his wife, Lucy, joined him in front of the fireplace, a bouquet of tiny pink rosebuds in her hands, "spoken from the heart. We say them when we marry, we live them as we grow together, move together through those years."

"Oh, my, he's very good," Martha whispered in Emily's ear as Josh came to join them. "I just know I'm going to cry."

"Mom? Dad?" Rand went on, motioning for her parents to come forward, join him. "We weren't there when you said those vows to each other, but we've seen how well you've lived them. We'd all be proud, and grateful, if you'd renew those vows now, in front of your children and your grandchildren, who weren't around the first time."

"Oh, Rand, no," Meredith said, burying her head against Joe's shoulder as Lucy handed her the bouquet.

"Mom, I'm the oldest," Rand reminded her jokingly. "The way I've heard the joke, that means I'll choose your nursing home. So maybe you'd better keep me happy."

"Joe?" Meredith asked, looking up at her husband as the minister, still nibbling on a bit of Inez's cake, made his way to the fireplace. "Should we?"

"If you'll have me, Meredith," Joe told her, raising both her hands to his lips, kissing them. "But if you want me down on my knees, to propose again, just remember I may not be able to get up again."

And so, with laughter, and also with tears, the Colton family gathered around the fireplace, gathered around the two people whose dreams, whose vision, had built the Hacienda de Alegria, the House of Joy, and filled it with children of their bodies, children of their hearts.

"I, Joseph Colton, take thee, Meredith Portman…"

"I, Meredith Portman, take thee, Joseph Colton…"

"For better, for worse, in good times and in bad."

"…for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health."

"…to love, and to cherish, for all the days of our lives…"




Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Kasey Michaels for her contribution to THE COLTONS series.