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  She trailed her fingertips over the sheer silk, noting the exquisite workmanship. The part of her that appreciated the luxuries of life marveled at the beauty of it, and at how well the pale, shimmering pink would complement her coloring, but the practical part of her was furious with him for depriving her of something she had needed, and trying to replace it with this highly impractical gown. Of course there was no mistaking his intention—that she would wear the gown for him.

  He would have made her less angry, she thought, if he had bought two gowns, one to replace the gown he had destroyed and this bit of froth for his own amusement. Let him think what he liked, but she truly needed another warm nightgown.

  She said as much to him the next day, starchily adding that she might as well continue wearing his shirts, which at least had sleeves. He grinned at her, a devilish glint in his blue eyes. “I like you in either one,” he said.

  It was two more days before she was well enough to dress herself completely and do the chores, albeit with much less dexterity and speed than normal. The last day, having made a deliberate effort to be up and about early, she was already milking one of the cows when Lucas arrived. He said nothing, merely helped her finish with the milking, then carried the milk inside for her. Both of his shirts had been washed and neatly ironed and were folded on the table for him.

  He went outside and came back in with another package. “Just to keep you warm when I can’t,” he said, grinning as he tossed it to her.

  She opened the package, half afraid this choice would be even more inappropriate than the other. But the soft white cotton gown was all she could have asked for, long-sleeved and high-necked. The bosom was set with tiny tucks, and the buttons extended down almost to the waist. She would be able to step into it, she realized, and she gave him a truly warm smile for his consideration. Her shoulders and arms still protested if she pulled anything on over her head.

  “I wonder what Mrs. Worley thinks about you buying so many nightgowns,” she mused, trying to picture that stern lady’s face when Lucas purchased the silk confection. Come to think of it, where had he bought the silk nightgown? She couldn’t think of any merchant in Prosper who carried such goods. He would have had to special order it from the East, or from San Francisco, and certainly he hadn’t had enough time for that.

  “Mrs. Worley doesn’t think anything about it,” he replied maddeningly. “The cotton gown was my mother’s.”

  He didn’t say where he had gotten the silk, she noticed.

  He had been ignoring his own work to attend to her, and now that she was on her feet again he would have to spend the next several days seeing to business. “I won’t be able to check on you for a while,” he warned. “For God’s sake, be careful.”

  “I am careful. After all, that’s the first accident I’ve had.”

  “And it could have been your last, if it had broken your neck.”

  “What? And deprive you of a reason to complain?” she said sweetly. “I’d never do that.”

  “The spring picnic and dance is next week,” he said, thinking ahead and ignoring her jab. It was such a busy time at the ranch, with all the spring branding and castrating to be done, that the picnic would probably be the next time he’d see her. “If I don’t get by before then, I’ll see you there.”

  “I doubt it,” she said. “I don’t go to the spring dances.”

  He stopped and gave her one of those grim looks of his. “Why not?”

  “Why should I?”

  “To socialize with your neighbors.”

  “If I did that, someone”—meaning some man—“would assume that I wanted to be friendlier than I have been in the past. It seems easier not to encourage anyone.”

  “You could spend your time with the women.”

  She laughed out loud at that. “What poor woman wants me to monopolize her time? People go to have fun with their friends, or to flirt, and I don’t qualify for either. Besides, this is a busy time for me, and I really can’t afford to waste an entire day doing nothing, especially since I’ve lost so much time this past week.”

  He scowled down at her, angered that she allowed herself so little in life. He had been looking forward to dancing with her, to feeling her long, strong legs brushing against his. In the hurlyburly of the day, no one would be paying any attention to them. “I want you to go,” he said. “Put on your best dress and for once forget about the damn farm.”

  “No,” she said. No more excuses, no reasons, just no.

  Lucas didn’t take rejection well. “If you aren’t at the picnic,” he said, “I’ll come looking for you.”

  7

  THE DAY OF THE PICNIC DAWNED WITH PERFECT WEATHER, the sun rising in a glorious display of cream and gold on the snow-capped peaks of the far mountains. Olivia was awake to see it, for it seemed there were a hundred last-minute details that needed to be seen to. That was always the case, but in the past she had enjoyed the excitement of preparation; this year it was all she could do to present a serene face to her parents and friends. She dreaded the day, without having any one solid reason for doing so. Perhaps, she thought, it was that she had given up hope. Always before the future had loomed before her with its great golden promise, but in the past months she had lost her faith in that promise.

  It wasn’t that a proposal from Lucas seemed imminent; in fact, in the last few weeks she had begun to wonder if she had only been imagining his intentions. In some indefinable way she no longer felt that intense will focused on her. It was silly, because when they had met, which was seldom, he had been exactly the same: courteous, protective, occasionally even flirting a little, but taking care not to overwhelm her.

  Though she couldn’t help feeling relieved, she was saddened almost beyond bearing at the very real possibility that she would never have her own family. She could just picture herself ten, even twenty years in the future, quietly sitting beside Honora with their heads bent over tiny embroidery stitches, while her hair grayed and wrinkles appeared at her eyes and throat, and her body lost its firmness. Her parents would be sad, too, because there would be no grandchildren for them to cherish.

  It was as if her life had slipped by while she wasn’t looking, and now she was left with empty hands. And empty arms, she thought, mourning the tiny babies she had wanted but seemed destined never to have.

  So she went through the motions, sheer determination keeping a smile pasted on her face, and by midmorning the Millican carriage had joined a parade of buggies, wagons, carts, people on horseback, and a great many even walking, all making their way to the large meadow just outside of town where the picnic was always held.

  It was a truly perfect spot, with enough trees to provide shade for those who sought it, yet plenty of open space for the youngsters to play. A good many people were already there, and by lunch all but a few people from within a fifty-mile radius would be wandering over the meadow, with nothing more serious on their minds than seeing friends and enjoying the picnic, an entire day with nothing to do.

  Except the women always had plenty to do, Olivia thought. There was the food to be seen to, the children to be watched, games to be organized. The men, of course, stood about in groups talking and laughing or perhaps organizing their own contests of strength or skill. An impromptu horse race wasn’t unknown. The women soothed the normal array of wounds and tempers from both children and men, until sometimes Olivia wondered if there was much difference between the two groups.

  Practically the first person she saw was Lucas, his tall, powerful form easily spotted in the crowd. He was wearing brown pants and a white silk shirt, his brown hat shading his eyes from the bright morning sun, and he caught her attention more easily than those men who had dressed in their best suits. As he approached she noticed how his dark hair curled down over his collar. He reached them with a murmured greeting and began helping to unload the small mountain of food they had brought in the carriage.

  She wondered uncertainly if she had been wrong about his intenti