Katherine was bustling around the kitchen, washing pans and packing food when he entered the room.

"Everything's ready." Her cheerful greeting told him she'd been up for a while. "Fergie's cookbook came in handy again."

Noah headed for his back room. "Have to leave a note for Jump."

Once he'd scribbled a brief explanation and a list of chores, he carried the paper out and pushed it over a nail on the outside of the bunkhouse door, then gathered fishing poles and supplies and harnessed a horse to the buggy.

Katherine was waiting on the back porch, a shawl around her shoulders and a straw hat on her head.

He loaded the food basket and helped her up to the seat.

"Are we going to the river or the lake?" she asked once the buggy was in motion.

"There's a good spot where the river is wide and slow. I've caught sizable fish from the banks there."

As they rode, she chattered about the smell of wildflowers in the air and the last of the crescent moon overhead. Fine thing that he liked her voice, because he figured he'd hear a lot of it as time passed. The buggy disturbed the long grass of the riverbank where the crickets chirped a morning chorus. Beside him, Katherine inhaled. "Oh, my."

"What?"

"I can smell the river."

Noah set his other senses aside for a moment and concentrated on the scents. It did smell a little fishy as

they neared the water. Eventually they reached their destination and he halted the horse.

"Wait 'til I come around." He climbed down his side and hurried to assist. The added bulk of the child she carried made her movements slower, but he barely noticed the additional weight as he lifted her to the ground.

It took a good half hour to start a fire, dig for worms, tie hooks and lines to their poles and get situated on an outcropping of flat white boulders that jutted from the bank. Noah folded two horse blankets together for her to sit on.

"Do you have to impale them?" Katherine's nose wrinkled in distaste as she watched him place a wriggling worm on a hook.

"Only way to get 'em to stay."

"But the worm's not dead yet. It's still wiggling."

"That's what attracts the fish."

Her expression was one of remorse. "Well, it seems cruel if you ask me."

"It's just the way things are."

She shrugged and after he'd thrown in her line, accepted the duty of holding the pole. "Doesn't it drown?"

"What?"

"The worm. Can it breathe under water?"

"Don't know." He baited his own line and threw it in the water.

"My pole keeps tugging," she said after several minutes.

"You have a fish."

"What?"

"Pull back and let me see. Sure enough. Look there."

Katherine laughed with delight and held the pole while Noah unhooked her fish.

"It's huge! Look at that! I caught one."

"A beauty, too," he replied, struggling to get the hook from the flopping fish's chin. Fishing was as natural as breathing to him. He'd spent many hours alone along this river. For Katherine it was a new experience and her enjoyment reminded him that not all of life was about work. "It's a trout."

"It is? Do trout taste good?"

"You're gonna find out."

She laughed again and her pleasure was worth all the sidelong looks he'd get from his men that afternoon.

"Guess sacrificing the worm was worth it, eh?" After releasing her catch into a basket set into the water, he baited her hook and tossed her line back in.

She'd caught three more by the time she became distracted by the rising sun. "Have you ever seen anything equal?" she asked in a breathless voice.

He'd been comparing her impressive catch to his two small sunfish, but at her exclamation, Noah turned his gaze to the palette of color streaking the sky, then to Katherine's face bathed in the golden glow of morning. "Never."

"I've always been up before sunrise to work, of course," she told him. "But there was always smoke and street noise and cooking smells and too much else going on to really take it all in. Out here, morning is the most important thing happening. Glorious, isn't it?"

Her expression was one of wonder and appreciation, a look he'd come to associate with her. She took nothing for granted, this woman he'd brought home and married. She looked at every day and each situation with a perspective foreign to his way of thinking.

Noah knew the sunrise was striking; he'd seen it a thousand times. But he turned his head now and saw the display of light and color with new eyes, looked at it from Katy's perspective. It was as glorious as she'd declared.

"Thank you for bringing me here." Her voice was breathy with emotion.

She deserved to catch all the fish. She deserved everything she'd ever dreamed for and never had. She was so appreciative and real. She deserved a husband as near perfect as she. Not a man like him. Hard. Scarred.

He'd tried hard not to hold a grudge against the Man Upstairs for what had happened to him. But the longer he knew Katy. the more difficult that grew. He wanted to be a man who could love her the way she needed. She spoke of Annie Carpenter often, as though Annie's life was an example she admired. It probably wa.v But Noah had always found it easier not to look at what other people had.

The sun rose bright and warm, and he admired her profile when she removed her hat and turned her face up to the sun as though absorbing its heat. For a man who preferred to hide in the shadows, her action reminded him of how natural and unaffected she was in all ways. He adjusted his hat brim over his eyes.

The basket of fish was overflowing when he declared they had enough for supper. He'd brought a bar of soap and flour sack toweling, so they washed their hands in the river.

On the grass he spread the worn quilts Katherine had packed and she arranged their meal. He enjoyed watching her move about, fussing with this and that, settling herself on the padding.

Everything about her fascinated him. The curve of her cheek, the wisps of hair at her neck, her delicate scents, the rustle of underclothing. He knew the pleasure of her body in the dark of night, but those times seemed separate and secret from this Katy of the daylight.

Even the baby she carried was a wonder and a mystery to him. He thought of the child often, imagined life as it would be when there was another little person to consider and care for.

"Only two more weeks until the Independence Day celebration and the church picnic in town," she said, diverting his thoughts. "Annie and Charmaine have told me all about the festivities. The church ladies decorate a wagon for the parade. So do the different businesses and the bank. I can't wait. It will be my second picnic after this one. At night there are fireworks."

He made a noncommittal noise and took a piece of chicken.

"Have you ever gone?"

"When I was a boy." Too many people. Too many gawking pairs of eyes.

Kate glanced at him. "Of course, we don't have to go. We could have our own dinner at home."

He turned his gaze on her. "No. You should go."

"My place is with you."

An arrow of regret pierced him anew. Just because he'd married her didn't mean his situation had

changed. "You know I won't go."

"I know."

"There's no reason you shouldn't, though. I want you to."

Her dark hazel eyes revealed an inner conflict. "If you mean it, I'll go."

He bit into the chicken breast. "Good chicken."

Her smile told him he'd said the right things.

As Noah ate, Kate noticed the jagged scars on his hands, remembered the feel of his palms and the

ridges that covered most of his body. It was difficult not to compare him to Levi. She missed having someone to laugh with. Noah was withdrawn and curt, avoiding direct looks and most contact. Levi had been outgoing and spontaneous. He'd been openly affectionate and skillfully ardent in his pursuit of her. She wasn't sure Noah even thought of her that way. He'd fulfilled the act because she'd asked him to and because he'd agreed it should be done. Spontaneity had not been part of it. Nor affection. Noah was a man of duty and honor. What more could she ask? Levi had given Kate three things: a silver locket, her wedding ring and her baby. The only one she valued was her child. The morning after her fishing trip, she opened the top drawer of her bureau and took out the locket. She wanted to buy fabric for napkins and a good set of plates for the luncheon she was planning, and she couldn't bring herself to charge the items to Noah's account. Food was one thing, these extravagances were another, and jewelry would probably bring her a few dollars in trade. Kate had been delighted with the silver filigree necklace when Levi had given it to her, but now that she knew the gift was part of his coercion, she resented the object and the manner in which she'd received it. It was hers. Levi had given it to her. She could do with it as she pleased. She tucked it into her pocket. It took two shopping trips to gather everything she needed, but Newt was accommodating and drove the buggy to town for her each time. When Estelle made her regular visits to the ranch, Kate didn't mention what she was planning. The luncheon was her idea and the guests were her friends and she didn't want Estelle's advice or intervention.

By the following week, Kate had sewn napkins, baked tea cakes and cookies and arranged things just so. She was so nervous that morning, her hands shook as she put the finishing touches to the table. Marjorie had been a big help, supplying ideas and recipes, and then she ducked out to return home before Kate's guests arrived.

Kate changed into her new blue-and-white pinstriped dress and felt like a princess. Annie, her mother Mildred, Charmaine, her mother Vera, and Diana all arrived in one buggy, Annie driving a splendid team of grays. Jump hurried out to help the ladies down before he unhitched the horses and hobbled them in a grove of trees to graze.

The women wore colorful day dresses, white gloves and feathered hats and traveled in a cloud of various perfumes. Kate admired their clothing, and Mildred confessed she'd made nearly all of her dress herself before asking Annie to do the finish work.

"It's beautiful, Mrs. Sweetwater," Kate told her sincerely.

"I never took a needle to anything except embroidery in my life until Annie chose to be a dressmaker. Now I can't help but find design a fascination." She tilted her head. "I still don't believe women of privilege should be employed, mind you," Mildred told her. "But I've seen how much Annie enjoys running her shop. And her daughter is well cared for. Annie is happy, that's all that matters."

"My mother has taken up painting," Annie told her. "You'll have to see her work."

Mildred blushed. "I'm not very good, really."

"Nonsense," her sister-in-law Vera contradicted, then looked to Kate to say, "She is incredibly talented."

Kate smiled. "Everything is ready if you ladies will please come in and be seated in the dining room."

The women admired Kate's decorating, her tea set and the silver service, then exclaimed over the chicken and vegetable soup she and Marjorie had prepared.

"I baked the bread," Kate told them proudly. "I make bread every week for Noah and myself."

At the mention of Noah, the ladies grew silent. None of them had expected to see him here today, but with the exception of Annie and Charmaine who'd been to the wedding, this was the first glimpse any of them had had of Noah's home.

"You're probably thinking that this house is plain compared to your home, Mrs. Sweetwater," Kate said. "Noah lived here alone for a lot of years. He had no call for fancy furnishings."

"Well, I'm sure you're just what the place needed," Diana said.

Kate wasn't so sure. Noah could have gone the rest of his life without change and been perfectly content. Sometimes she felt as though she was in the way or even an intruder.

Conversation turned to the Independence Day celebration and what the others would be bringing to the picnic.

After they'd finished lunch, Kate suggested they sit on the shaded front porch and have tea. Annie stayed inside to help her with the cups and tray. "You seem a little quieter than usual," Annie said. "Is everything all right?" "I have a lot to be thankful for," Kate told her. "I'm sure it's no surprise to you when I say that Noah married me because I was his brother's wife and had a baby on the way. He was concerned about the child." "I'm sure he was concerned about you, too." "Yes. And he was feeling obligated because Levi married me and then got himself shot." Annie arranged the cups on the tray. "There's nothing wrong with living up to one's obligations." "No, there isn't. It's just not very pleasant to be an obligation." "I'm sure you mean more to him." "I don't know. I.. .oh, I don't know." "Go ahead, tell me." "I don't feel important. Or needed. I'm another mouth to feed and someone to work around."

"I'm sure Noah doesn't see you like that."

"I don't know how he sees me. I've tried to make myself more valuable, to learn to do things and contribute. But Noah always tells me there's someone else to take care of tasks and that I don't need to bother myself."

"He's probably just trying to make your life easier."

"Maybe. But I feel like I'm in the way most of the time." The kettle whistled and Kate poured boiling

water into the teapot. "I shouldn't be saying these things. I'm very grateful to Noah and he's a wonderful man."

"The first year of marriage is tough," Annie told her. "It's normal to have a lot of adjustments to make.

And you're more emotional right now because of the baby." "I suppose so." Annie gave Kate's shoulders a friendly squeeze. "I know so. Now put on that pretty smile and let's have tea." It was midafternoon before the ladies were ready to leave. From the back porch, Kate rang the dinner bell. Jump appeared and hurried to hitch up the Car-penters's horses and bring the buggy to the door yard. "We had a lovely time, dear," Vera told her. "You're a wonderful hostess." "Thank you," Kate replied, and gave the women hugs.

Annie shook the reins over the horses's backs and the buggy moved away. Kate watched until it had traveled down the road and disappeared from sight. A sense of isolation swept over her.

Even though she had made friends, she felt lonelier than she ever had. Back in Boulder she'd never had time for friends or teas or picnics. She'd never owned a nice dress or a pair of gloves. Now she had those things, but something was still missing. Something important. At least then?as hard as working in the laundry had been?she'd had a sense of purpose, accomplishment and self-worth.

She decided to take Annie's advice to heart and told herself this was a difficult time of adjustment. She had the added emotional upheaval of her physical condition, as well as adjusting to a new life while tiptoeing around a man who didn't care for her.

But she had so much to be thankful for. She would count her blessings every day. Feeling sorry for herself was a waste of time. The problem was... she had plenty of time to waste.