"A suicide, according to Ford."

Rathe cursed. He gazed grimly at the foot of the bed. Smith was dead. It was unbelievable. Rathe was positive the man had not committed suicide; there was no reason for him to do so. Did Ford real y think he could get away with this, that he, Rathe, would now back down? If so, he had another think coming. Rathe intended to watch every move he made.

"How is Grace, exactly?"

"Tired, stil a bit hysterical, I think. Shocked." He paused. He couldn't bring himself to tel this man, whom he both respected and envied, that she had been asking for him.

Rathe cursed. Then he looked at Al en. "I want to thank you. You and George. If you hadn't come..." He trailed off. Guilt flared. He had failed Grace when she'd needed him most. Farris and Kennedy were the heroes, not him.

"There's no need to thank me," Al en said. "You know how I feel about Grace and the public school system. But if it hadn't been for Farris I wouldn't have known what was going on."

"Stil ," Rathe said stubbornly, "you barely recovered from your own close escape. I thank you."

Al en nodded abruptly.

Rathe's gaze was penetrating. "Did you know she was teaching?"

"Yes." At Rathe's furious expression, Al en went on. "I tried to stop her, but you know Grace. When she sets her mind on something, nothing wil stop her. And she made me promise not to tel you."

Rathe swore. "Tel me everything, Al en. I want to know exactly what went on while I was gone."

"Grace," Harriet reproved.

Grace gave Harriet a determined look, then gazed past her at Rathe, asleep on the bed. His color was off; he was much too pale. Her face fil ed with consternation. She hurried to him. She sat on the side of the bed, by his hip, and not caring who saw, ran her hand over his cheek and through the thickness of his hair. He stirred slightly.

Her heart clenched. He was the bravest man she knew. She lowered her face and kissed him gently on the lips.

She watched his lashes fluttering, watched a slight smile tilt the corners of his mouth, watched his face turn toward her. He blinked. "Grace?"

"I'm here," she breathed, touching his cheek again. He turned his face more ful y into her palm, closing his eyes. The next time he looked at her the sleepiness was gone from his gaze. "Are you al right?"

"Me!" She attempted a smal laugh, and failed. "I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about."

His look became stern. "You could have been kil ed."

"They weren't going to kil me," she said as calmly as she could.

"Dammit," he cried, reaching out and grabbing her hand. He winced from the movement, but his grip was stil like steel. "Grace, you lied to me!"

"I'm sorry." She trembled, stroking his hair again. "I am so sorry!" She bit back the anguish.

Her attitude was going to undo him. "How could you lie to me?"

"With great difficulty." She choked, tears glistening.

He closed his eyes on the brink of surrender.

"Oh, Rathe," she cried, hugging him. "I almost got you kil ed."

Later, he thought, careful y closing her in his arms. They would resolve this later. For now, being alive and together was enough.

A few days later, Rathe lay in bed and stretched-ful y.

He heard footsteps and instantly lay prone, turning his face from the door and closing his eyes. He knew, by now, those footsteps belonged to Grace. He smiled, heard the door open, and wiped the smile right off his face.

"Rathe?" Her voice was tentative, as if uncertain whether she wanted to wake him or not.

He groaned slightly.

He heard her set the tray down and approach. He thought how lucky he was that she hadn't caught him downstairs at dawn looking for something to read-three days in bed, and if it weren't for her, he'd be going crazy. But she was here, and he wasn't going crazy. He groaned again and turned to look at her, blinking as if just awakening.

Her smile was so tender and warm he caught his breath.

She approached, instantly touching his forehead for a nonexistent fever. He had only had a slight temperature yesterday, but Grace's tender ministrations and hovering concern had made bedrest worthwhile. His only complaint was that Harriet refused to al ow her to give him a sponge bath.

When he'd suggested it, she had been appal ed, exclaiming that there was enough talk already about the two of them, and that while they recuperated at her place there would be no carrying on! And she had added emphatical y, "I hope you're going to marry her, soon."

"You look better and better every day," Grace said, sitting by his hip.

He sighed. "It's your nursing, Gracie. You know that."

"I'm wise to your flattery."

"How wise?"

"Very wise."

They were smiling. Rathe wanted to pul her into his arms and kiss her until they were out of breath. He reached for her. "Come here."

She resisted. "You have to rest, Rathe."

"I don't want to rest. I want you."

She shook her head, but she was smiling. "Only you, Rathe, could be sick in bed, wounded, and want to..." She trailed off with a blush.

"And want to what?" he teased.

"I don't think I have to say the words," she said gently.

He touched her hand. "Then I'l say them. I want to make love to you, Grace." He heard his own words- make love. It was easier to say it that way then to say what he real y wanted to say- I want to love you, Grace. I do love you. Let me love you. Stay with me-always. Marry me .

Soon. He would ask her again, soon.

Rathe had not brought up the topic of their near-brush with death again or the fact that she had lied. The way Grace was caring for him now, made it al seem like a dream-a nightmare. She was so attentive, so warm, so tender. He realized that she was apologizing in the best way she could, by taking care of him. He rather liked the attention. And when they were married, wel , there'd be time enough to deal with her penchant for stubbornly seeking trouble. Besides, she'd probably be too busy with his babies...

He suddenly had the uncanny feeling that even children wouldn't stop Grace from her crusade to change the world. He had to smile. How could he possibly want Grace any other way? Thank God there were normal teaching positions available, ones in normal towns where teachers weren't threatened with death by shadowy night riders. Then he had a scary thought-even in normal, placid circumstances, he would bet his life she would find a way to place herself in jeopardy-and things would not stay normal and placid for long!

She interrupted his thoughts. "Hungry?"

"Umm."

She was reaching behind him as if he couldn't sit up, fluffing pil ows. He didn't move, didn't help her. Her breasts brushed his bare chest, causing his already aching groin more pain. "Lean forward," she ordered, and he gladly complied. As she fooled with the pil ows behind his back he nuzzled the lush cleavage below his face. She gasped, withdrew, then laughed. "You are healing."

"My head stil hurts," he lied plaintively.

She helped him sit up, her arms beneath his shoulders. He nuzzled her jaw and nipped it.

"Rathe."

"Mmm?"

"What are we going to do?"

Her tone, fil ed with anxiety, drew his ful attention. "What is it, Gracie?" He clasped her hand.

"Rawlins' funeral was this morning."

Rathe grew grim. He met Grace's searching regard. She didn't have to voice her questions; he could read them in her eyes. "At least I don't see condemnation," he said. "At least this time you're wondering how I'm feeling."

"Yes."

He looked at her soberly. "I've kil ed before, Grace, and it's not something I take lightly, even when the victim is a snake like Rawlins was. The other night I had no choice. There were too many of them, and hatred and violence like that breeds death and murder. I had to react instantly. If I had to do it again, I would."

Grace squeezed his hand. "Rathe-I'm so afraid. Some of the townspeople are angry! They want you arrested!"

Rathe smiled slightly, his eyes narrowed. "Let them arrest me. I'l welcome it."

"What do you mean!"

Rathe laughed grimly. "Ford won't dare. I have money and power. My lawyers wouldn't just get me freed, they'd expose this entire town and Ford's reign of terror. There'd be a scandal. I'd make sure of it. Even though this kind of news isn't new, even though the North is fed up with the South's problems, I'd make sure it made headlines-and national y. Ford would be finished. What he has been doing is against the law. If he arrested me he wouldn't just be risking his career, he might face prosecution."

Grace sighed. "I didn't think of it that way. I was so worried, thinking he'd arrest you."

"One thing Ford isn't," Rathe said, "and that's stupid. Unfortunately."

"Rathe? How do you feel about traveling?"

Al around them bluebirds twittered, the grass trembled in the breeze. The sun was bright, the sky flawless. It was two days later. Rathe held her hand. They paused in the clearing. Grace carried a picnic basket.

Rathe smiled. "You know I love traveling. Where would you like to go? New York? London? China? Tibet?"

Her smile was forced. "I've never been to Europe." And she was thinking, Is it going to be this easy?

"Europe it is, Grace." He looked at her. "Don't you know I'd give you the moon and the stars if I could?"

Tears sparkled in her eyes. "Europe wil be fine."

He took her hand. "Paris in the spring."

Grace realized she was holding her breath. "In the spring? But that's next year."

"When would you like to go?"

"Now?"

"Grace, even if we left right now, I have to stop in Texas. I'm so close, and..." He grinned sheepishly, "my mother would kil me if I didn't. Besides, I want my folks to meet you."

She was aghast. "Rathe, I don't want to meet your parents."

His pleasure faded. "They'l love you."

"Let's go to Paris-now." She was clutching his shoulders.

"Turning tail on me, Grace?" he asked quietly.

"No!"

"You wouldn't run from Rawlins' threats-you even lied to brave them. But now you want to run. Why?"

"I'm afraid," she breathed, clinging.

He held her close. "Don't be afraid. I won't let anything happen to you-I promise."

"It's not me I'm worried about! It's you! Ford is evil, Rathe, he's going to do something. Putting a bul et in your back wouldn't be beneath him."

He didn't smile. "You stil don't have any faith in me, do you? From the moment we met, you pegged me a cad, a rogue, a philanderer, a gambler -am I missing any epithets?"

She wanted to tel him she loved him, but she was afraid. Instead she stood frozen with apprehension.

"Do you think me a coward, too?"

"No!"

"If I ran, that is what I would be. Things are not finished between me and Sheriff Ford, and until they are, I can't leave." He started to walk away from her.

Grace ran after him. "Rathe, be sensible. Cowardice has nothing to do with this. This is common sense! Why provoke Ford?"

"I'm not running from this, Grace. I won't run from any man."

"Damn you! You're going to get yourself kil ed!"

He turned slowly. She was sobbing into her hands. He was stunned. He went to her, took her hands, wet with her tears, in his. "You're afraid for me.

"Yes!"

"You care for me."