"Guns. People here think they're the solution to everything. I hate them. I know too many women who lost husbands and sons in the war. I couldn't stand it if my husband were killed. I'll forbid him to use guns."

"Then I suggest you head back to Richmond as soon as you can. You're not likely to find a husband to please you out here."

She didn't like that. He made it sound as if she was somehow defective, that she didn't measure up.

"I've already had three offers." She hadn't meant to say that. It sounded as if she was bragging, but this man irritated her. He said he wasn't making fun of her, but who could tell what he was thinking behind that inscrutable look?

"Weren't you just telling me that Lantz is still trying to bully you and Tom is still depending on guns?"

"Yes, but . . ." What could she say? Did she really believe either of them would give up using guns if she asked? "They would if they really loved me," she said. But she didn't sound convinced, not even to herself.

"I have a feeling not everybody sees love the way you do."

"What's wrong with my way?" He was beginning to make her angry. It was a shame he was so handsome that she couldn't stop thinking about him. He deserved to be ignored.

"I didn't say it was wrong. Just different."

"How?" It seemed he didn't want to answer. "You may as well explain. I don't intend to leave this room until you do."

The hint of a smile. Why was the blessed man so stingy? Didn't he know he had a smile that could bring a strong woman to her knees? Maybe he didn't want a woman like Melody, even on her knees? That thought sent a chill all the way through her.

"I don't have a wide experience of women. I couldn't say."

"You're not going to weasel out now. You've made a statement that implies I'm doing something wrong. You may think me hard-headed, but I do want to learn."

"All I meant to say is that you seem to interpret love as meaning one person will give up things he believes for the other. Another way to look at it is that you would have enough faith in the man you loved to believe he was making the right decision."

"Even about guns?"

"Yes."

"Why should I do that? I know what they can do."

"So do Texans. We depend on them for hunting, protection, even as a way of making a living. There isn't much formal law out herenone in some places. Men who have anything took it and fought to hold it against men equally determined to take it from them. That may not be a pretty picture, but it's the way things are."

"And you think they ought to stay that way?"

"No. Things will change, but that change will be slow in coming. Guns will be needed for a long time in some places."

"I don't understand you," she said. "You defend the use of guns, but you won't use yours anymore."

"I didn't say I wouldn't use it, only that I won't use it for money."

"I still don't understand you."

He did smile. It was like sunshine. "Don't worry. I'll be leaving tomorrow. You won't have to worry about me again."

"You can't go. You're not well yet." He was always throwing her off stride. Now she had gone from being angry at him to being worried about his injury, about his leaving.

"I should have left today. If you hadn't made me so comfortable, I would have."

"Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"Nowhere."

"Is anybody waiting for you?"

"No."

"Then there's no reason to go."

"I can't continue to trespa.s.s on your hospitality."

"You don't know much about Virginians. You have to stay at least a month before even the most unsociable hostess begins to wonder when you'll leave."

"I do know Texans, and your brother, foreman, and stepmother all want to see the back of me."

"Not really. Belle is just worried about Lantz. Sydney is upset that you showed him up, and Tom is jealous of anybody taller than he is. He may start liking you just because you're even taller than Lantz."

"That's no reason to stay."

"And you call me stubborn. It's stupid to leave until you're well, especially when you have no place to go and you're perfectly welcome to stay here. Besides, I like talking to you. You're the only one who doesn't treat me like an idiot. Well, at least not like a complete idiot."

"I never meant to"

"I know. I'm still irritated, but you've got to promise to stay." "Why?"

"If you stay a few more days, you can ride your own horse." She didn't understand why he was so anxious to leave, but she could tell he was weakening. "Belle doesn't really want you to go. She hasn't had a new man to talk to in months. Neill wants you to stay. He's still showing that peach can around like he did it himself."

"I thought you didn't admire guns."

"I can admire a skill without admiring the use to which it is put."

"You're a complicated woman."

"Not really. Everybody is expecting you to eat dinner with us tonight."

"Everybody?"

"Yes. Bernice is preparing something special. She doesn't get the chance to cook for company often."

"You don't have to cook anything special for me."

"She's not. I've been teaching her to cook some of my favorite dishes. You can't imagine how much I long for something that isn't seasoned with a bushel of peppers or served with beans. You're going to get a traditional Virginia dinner, at least as traditional as we can get in Texas. Now I'll leave you to take your nap."

Melody decided she was a fickle woman. She had entered that room liking Chet. Ten minutes later she was thoroughly out of patience with him. Now she was begging him to stay. She was as bad as Belle. Considering some of the things she'd muttered under her breath about her stepmother, that was a terrible indictment.

She would have to figure out just what it was about this man that made it impossible to think of his leaving, of never seeing him again. It wasn't just his looks. She recognized and understood the tingles she felt when she watched him sleep, the strange feelings in her belly when she sat close to him, knowing he was virtually naked under those sheets.

But there was something else about him that caused her to beg him to stay, something that made her want to know he was near, that he would be in that room when she opened the door. It was a new feeling, something she didn't understand because it had never happened to her before.

That bothered her. She didn't like things she didn't understand. But she liked Chet, and she didn't understand him at all.

Chet had made a list of all the reasons why he shouldn't go down to dinner with the family, why he should have left the ranch the day before, why he should have moved to the bunkhouse if he had to stay, why he was crazy to walk into the midst of a group of people he knew didn't want him around.

There was only one reason to stay. Melody had asked him. It was just that simple. Stupid, but simple.

He scowled at himself in the mirror. He looked like a regular dude. Someone had ironed his shirt and pressed his black suit. He hadn't worn these clothes in years. Why had he now worn them twice in three days? Vanity and the inability to avoid making a fool out of himself. He wanted Melody to admire him. He knew she didn't think much of what he'd done with his life, so he was banking on his looks. He didn't understand the hold this woman had on him, but he'd been hooked hard and fast by a woman who disapproved of him.

He was nuts. Maybe he ought to go chase a few murderers and rustlers to get some sanity back in his life.

He opened the door and started down the hall. He didn't feel quite steady on his feet. The stairs were more of a problem, but he negotiated them alone. It would have humiliated him to ask for help.

Though Belle's house didn't look at all like Isabelle's, there was one similarity. The decorations were clearly feminine. It seemed all women wanted a fancily decorated nest, no matter how remote or inhospitable the country surrounding it. But this house lacked the dash of rough masculine strength that Jake and the boys had contributed. There was no boisterous seesaw battle between the masculine and the feminine. The feminine had won in a rout.

Chet shook his head. Maybe that bullet had done more damage than he thought. He'd never before muddled his head with thoughts like this.

"My, don't you look handsome," Belle Jordan trilled to Chet from the parlor, "not like you've been injured at all."

Chet directed his steps away from the office and toward a room filled with ornate Victorian furniture. Jake rarely denied Isabelle anything, but he'd put his foot down when she had wanted a roomful of similar furniture.

"Don't tell him that," Melody said, "or he'll be on a horse and out of here before nightfall."

"I'm not as steady as I look," Chet said, deciding to stand rather than sit. "You've kept me in bed too long."

"You're trying to hurry things too much," Belle said, patting the sofa next to her. "Come sit down."

The dinner bell rang, sparing him. The office door opened, and Sydney and Neill came out, followed more slowly by Tom Neland. Chet looked at Melody in surprise.

"I won't let them sit in here," Belle explained. "They'd ruin the upholstery."

Isabelle expected Jake and the boys to wash and clean their boots. But once they entered the house, they were free to go anywhere they liked.

Not waiting for Melody and their mother to precede them, Neill and Sydney ran for the table and sat down. Chet held the chair for Melody, Tom for Belle.

"A gentleman waits until the ladies are seated to sit down," Chet said.

Neill bounced to his feet, a confused look on his face. Sydney remained seated, looking mulish.

"You can stand on your own or be lifted," Chet said to him.

He knew he was interfering too much, but this boy was being intentionally rude. Chet had spent most of his life without a home or a family that cared for him. This spoiled young man didn't appreciate what he had.

"You can't stand up without wobbling," Sydney said. "You couldn't lift a baby."

The boy's att.i.tude was such an impudent challenge, Chet couldn't stop himself. He walked around the table, grasped Sydney by the collar, and lifted him straight out of the seat. "Are you going to stand up, or do I drop you?"

Sydney stood and stared at Chet, his look mingling surprise and anger with the possible beginnings of respect.

Chet seated Melody, then sat down himself. He was greatly relieved to be off his feet. Lifting a 140-pound boy was no easy feat under the best of circ.u.mstances. A cruel pain throbbed in his head. It's what you get for showing off.

The meal got off to a hesitant start, but it wasn't long before conversation flowed easily. Chet mostly listened.

"If Melody would just marry Lantz, it would solve everything," Belle said.

"You've said that a dozen times," Melody said, her tone a little less than cordial. "It's not fair to keep putting the burden for solving the problems of this ranch on my shoulders."

"Well, you have to marry someone. It may as well be Lantz."

"I will not marry a bully," Melody said.

"He's not really trying to bully you," Belle said. "He's just trying to show you what could happen to a woman alone. He hasn't hurt anyone."

"Tell that to Speers."

"I don't like Lantz and won't defend him," Neland said, "but that was rustlers. They've been hitting everybody, including Lantz. He's furious, but they seem to know where everybody is all the time. If Speers hadn't gone off on his own, he wouldn't have been anywhere near them to get shot."

"If you'd let me ride with you, I'd stop those rustlers," Sydney said.

"You're not to go anywhere near any rustlers," Belle said. "I would lose my mind if you were shot."

Chet started to remind Belle that just two days earlier, she'd argued for letting Sydney ride with Tom but decided against it.

"I'd shoot them," Sydney said. "I'm getting better all the time."

"You're hardly more than a child," Belle declared. "You're to stay here where you're safe."

Sydney turned red. "Stop treating me like a baby. We need extra men in the saddle." He turned to Neland. "I'm old enough to ride with you, aren't I?"

"You are not," Belle said, her languid, helpless air vanished. "I'll fire any man who lets you ride with him."

"Only if I agree with you," Melody said. Her voice was quiet, a strong contrast with Belle's shrillness.

"What do you mean?" Belle demanded.

"You told me you could cancel any orders I gave Tom. Well, if that's the case, then I can cancel your orders as well."

Belle looked outraged. "I can't believe you would throw your own brother into the path of a bullet," she said, her eyes bright with anger. "I never believed you'd go that far to get controlling interest in the ranch."

"Sydney's share would go to Neill. I wouldn't get control unless both of the boys died. Even then, you would have control of their shares until your death."

Chet was surprised Melody could respond so calmly. He'd have been fighting mad if anybody had made such an accusation against him.

"I forgot," Belle said, suddenly transformed into the wispy-voiced female Chet knew. "I can't think straight when I'm worried about one of the boys being hurt."

"Then you shouldn't have encouraged him to develop his gun skills."

"But he's a man. He has to be able to use a gun."