"Most people count on a situation to improve."

Kate drank the milk he'd brought for her. "Do you take after your mother or your father?" she asked, changing the subject.

"My father."

"He was a big man?"

He nodded.

"What did your mother look like?"

"Dark hair. Slim."

"Pretty?"

"I thought so."

"And she liked roses."

He nodded.

"Did you and Levi have a good childhood growing up here on the ranch?"

"For the most part. Worst was my ma dying. I was about four, but I remember her. My father married Estelle soon after and Levi was born."

"So he was only nine when you had your accident?"

"About that."

"Everything changed after that, did it?"

"Pretty much. Never went back to school. Stayed here and worked. Levi grew up, had friends, had interests other than horses."

"But you were close, the two of you."

He nodded. "He was full of life and so much energy. Seemed like he was always on the move." Noah looked at his hands as he spoke, "he wasn't critical, easy to be around. Levi was the only person I ever spent much time around." He glanced up as though realizing how much he'd revealed and changed the subject. "You don't talk about your mother."

Guiltily, Kate realized she hadn't thought much about her, either. Since the day Noah had come for her, she hadn't looked back, except to be grateful she was out of there.

"What did the two of you do on holidays?"

"Nothing different. The laundry was rarely closed. Nobody stops wearing clothes, you know."

It was the most they'd ever just sat and talked. Kate was seeing a side of Noah he'd never revealed before. He seemed almost relaxed, more at ease with her and with the things they discussed.

"Tomorrow I'm going to send for the doctor," he said then, surprising her.

"Why?"

"Have a look at you. Name's Martin. Good doctor."

"Do you think that's necessary?'" She got up and moved to sit in the other rocker. "I'm not sick or anything. Just a little tired, and the heat got to me."

"You're not sick, no. Just want to know everything's okay."

"With the baby, you're talking?"

He nodded.

The baby. Everything was about and for the baby. Kate experienced a stab of guilt for feeling jealous about that. After all, she'd come here so the baby would be taken care of. "Whatever you say." Crickets chirped and the sky had grown dark while they'd been talking. A cool night breeze drifted down from the mountains. "Do you want to go inside?"

"Not just yet. It's a pretty night."

Half an hour later in the distance, the sky was lit by exploding fireworks.

"Know you had your heart set on the celebration in town." he said after a few minutes.

Now that she thought about it, she'd enjoyed herself more with Noah tonight than she had at the parade or the picnic she'd so looked forward to. She'd especially liked the time they'd spent together talking. "I did look forward to it." she answered. "But this is nice. It's quiet and relaxing."

"You handle disappointment real well."

"What do you mean?"

"Make the best of everything, 1 mean."

"It's a waste of time to reeret, don't vou think?"

"You're never sorry about what happened with Levi?"

He'd never discussed this with her before. "It happened?nothing I can do about it now." She absently placed her hand on her protruding belly. "I can't take it back."

"Nothing you're sorry about? Wished it hadn't happened?"

She wondered what he was getting at. "Should I be sorry about something?"

"I'll never be Levi," he said.

"No, of course not."

"I'll never be Luke Carpenter, either."

She frowned in the darkness. "I know that."

"Has to be disappointin'. But you're not one to complain."

"I don't expect you to be someone else. What gave you the idea I'd be wishing that?"

He shook his head and she saw the movement in the moonlight that filtered down through a trellis.

Using the arms of the rocker, Kate pushed herself up and stepped to the stairs where she could see the heavens. "Look at all the stars. God has fireworks on display all the time, doesn't He?"

"I reckon."

"If I could wish on one of those stars and have anything I wanted, I don't know how much more I could ask for. Except maybe..."

"What?"

"Oh, I don't know." The dream of a family like Annie's had skittered through her head. A husband who loved her and needed her. But Noah had just told her he wasn't Luke, and she didn't want to make him think she wasn't grateful, because she was. "What would you wish for?"

He didn't answer. Finally she turned around. "Noah?"

"There aren't any wishes like that."

Practical as always, the man, dashing the wind from her fanciful sails with a few words.

"No, of course not." She turned back to pick up the dishes.

Noah stopped her with a hand on her wrist. "What were you going to say when you stopped? What would you wish for?"

She looked at his hand and in the darkness it looked like any other. "A real family," she replied. "That's all."

Noah took his hand away. He couldn't give her a real family. He could take care of her and provide for her, but he couldn't be who she wished for.

If he had any wish in the world it would be to go back and change what had happened to him to make him a solitary man in hiding. He imagined standing in front of her without scars or self-consciousness. Often in his dreams he walked down Main Street greeting people, going about his business, and no one gawked or whispered because he was Noah-without-scars. It was the most liberating dream. Waking always left him bereft to be in his real body.

She picked up the dishes. "Thanks for today. I feel much better."

He watched her open the screen door and enter the house.

The doctor had pronounced Katherine fit and healthy and suggested she rest with her feet up several times a day to keep the swelling down.

His assessment eased Noah's fears and he asked Marjorie to check on Katherine often over the next few weeks. The hot July days were the hardest on her, but she seemed to have more energy in the cool of the evening.

Toward the end of the month Noah worked closer to the house. He worried whenever she was alone and was glad to see Annie visit occasionally. Even Estelle's regular visits to the house assured him that Katherine wasn't alone.

One oppressively muggy afternoon, he was chasing calves up out of a ravine toward the herd when the sky darkened and thunder rumbled in the distance. His first thought was to get the calves to their mothers before heading back to make sure the horses were in the corrals.

Lightning split the sky and with the resulting crack of thunder, a warning went off in his head. Katy. She would be terrified.

Chasing the calves up the bank, he got them started toward the herd and kicked his heels into his dun's flanks. Rain poured from the sky, pelting his hat, soaking his clothing. He didn't take time to reach for his slicker, just bent low over the horse's neck and rode hard.

Everyone would be looking after the horses. Mar-jorie would probably head home. He doubted anyone but himself knew of Katherine's fear.

Each jagged streak of lightning, every clap of thunder, made his own heart race because of how he knew it affected her.

The house and yard came into view through the downpour. The sky was dark and ominous, and lights shone from the kitchen windows.

Noah rode his horse right up to the porch, jumped down and slapped it on the rump so that it ran toward the barn.

His boots hit the floorboards and water dripped from his hat. He shucked both inside the kitchen door. No one was in the room and a fire was banked behind the isinglass window of the stove. "Katherine?"

He hung his .45. "Katy?"

She wasn't in the parlor or on the front porch, so he took the stairs in his stocking feet. Neither was she in her room. "Katy!"

"Noah?" Her voice came from his room.

He found her huddled in the center of his bed, the covers wrapped around her. Her hazel eyes were wide and her face pale. "Noah."

"Katy." He stretched out beside her and pulled her trembling body close. "It's okay. You're safe."

"I know. I knew I'd be safe here."

"Did you know I'd come?"

She shook her head against his chest. "You're soaking wet."

He pulled away long enough to shrug out of his shirt and denims and then crawled under the now damp covers where she was fully clothed. She felt good in his arms. He loved the silken brush of her hair on his skin, and she smelled like vanilla. "I smell like horses."

"No. you smell fine to me."

He hugged her instinctively.

"I'm glad you came. I'm sorry I'm such a baby."

"It's okay. Why did you come in here?"

"I don't know. You brought me here last time I was scared and I felt safe. I just feel safe here. I guess."

He liked that she felt safe in his room. That she felt safe with him. Rain pelted the roof with a steady sound. Here inside they were cocooned and sheltered. Katherine's trembling had eased as they talked. She turned onto her side, facing away from him, and he molded himself along her soft, warm body.

Lying close to her was a pleasure he would never take for granted, and he felt guilty for the excuse of a thunderstorm to do so.

When her breathing grew deep and even he knew she slept. He allowed himself the secret pleasure of touching her hair, caressing strands and learning the silken texture. He rose up on one elbow and enjoyed her peaceful expression.

He was drawn to touch her and ran a finger across her perfect cheek, skimmed the delicate turn of her jaw. She was so exquisite, it almost hurt to gaze upon her like this.

Had Levi ever watched her sleep? Had he held her while storms raged outside? Had his brother ever considered more than his momentary physical pleasure when he'd looked at her?

He couldn't forget that she carried Levi's baby. The child would always be a reminder of the man they had both loved. Noah's gaze traveled unerringly to her hand curled upon the pillow, seeking the reminder that she had loved his brother.

What he saw made his ears ring and his heart pound.

She wore only one ring: his.

Kate woke to sun in her eyes and heat at her back. She squinted and peered at the window, then oriented herself. Noah's room. It was late afternoon. The storm had passed and the sun was low in the sky. Noah lay behind her.

Extricating herself, she sat. He slept, the sheet midchest, his shoulders and arms exposed. He was broad and muscled, his skin only half as tanned as his face and neck. The scars marring him were testament to the pain he'd suffered all those years ago. Many were ragged and V-shaped, some long and ridged, others small gouge marks.