"Thank you," Felicity replied through stiff lips. Although she managed to maintain her own poise, inside she was seething over Richard's reaction to her condition. He had no right to be angry. He was acting as if she had somehow betrayed him. Their mutual fury seemed to amuse her grandfather, who coughed to cover a chuckle.
"The carriage is waiting if you're ready," Maxwell said after a long moment of silence during which Richard and Felicity glared at each other.
To Felicity's annoyance, Richard lingered at her grandfather's house long after their arrival, and she soon discerned that he was waiting for a chance to speak with her alone. When she recalled their last meeting and the strained goodby after he had escorted her to the Maxwell family railroad car for her departure two short days after he had proposed marriage to her, she dreaded having another private conversation with him again. Unfortunately, she could not avoid it.
After some less than subtle maneuvering by her grandfather, Felicity found herself closeted with Richard in the front parlor.
"How have you been, Richard?" she asked perfunctorily.
To his credit, Richard had apparently come to terms with her pregnancy, and he seemed determined to put their relationship on some kind of normal footing. "Considering that I fell in love with the wrong woman, I've been doing very well," he said with a self-mocking grin.
"Richard, please," Felicity begged him.
But Richard shook his head. "There's no use pretending that I'm not in love with you. That's something we're both going to have to live with, but I promise not to make a nuisance of myself."
"I never wanted to hurt you," Felicity said, instantly contrite. She had forgotten that Richard had been hurt by all of this, too. "You knew I was married the moment you met me, and I never gave you any reason to believe-"
"Ah, but I loved you even before we met, my dear cousin," Richard confessed with a wan smile. "Haven't you figured it out yet? I wanted the Maxwell millions. Uncle Henry is planning to leave you everything he owns."
"Not everything, surely!" she protested. "There's Isabel and you're his nephew…"
"A pittance." Richard dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand. "I wanted everything. I was determined to win my cousin Felicity's hand, even if she turned out to be a homely drab. And when she turned out to be the loveliest of creatures…" He shrugged eloquently. But when she would have protested again, he held up his slender hand to stop her. "I promised not to be a nuisance, and I won't be. You will never hear another confession of undying devotion from these lips," he vowed dramatically. Then his expression changed to one of infinite sadness. "I would, however, like to be your friend. If you can find it in your heart…"
She studied his face for any trace of chicanery, but she found none. Her heart was touched by his sincerity and his pain. How much it must have cost him to make such a confession, she thought as she saw him reach out a hand toward her beseechingly. How could she refuse to forgive him? And she really would need a friend in the days ahead. "Of course," she said, placing her hand in his.
His beautiful face contorted for a moment in mingled joy and relief. Then he lifted her hand to his lips and placed a chastely worshipful kiss on it. But before she could be offended, he released it, grinning boyishly.
"We'll have such fun," he said. "Friendly fun. The first thing we'll do is go to the Exposition so you can finally see your photographs, and there's a new play in town…"
Felicity could not help but smile at his enthusiasm. She really had no desire to see her photographs, not when she knew the painful memories they would stir, but how could she offend Richard when he had humbled himself so to win her friendship? Then she recalled a legitimate excuse.
"But I can't go out like this," she reminded him, indicating the mound of her stomach. No lady would parade her delicate condition before an unsuspecting populace.
Richard waved away her objection. "We'll call in the dressmaker first thing tomorrow. When she's finished, no one will even suspect."
With the last of her excuses overruled, Felicity had no choice but to agree.
"It's a lucky thing for you that Miz Blanche is a respectable married lady now, so she can stay here, Mr. Josh. I'd never be able to take care of you myself," Candace said with forced cheerfulness as she changed the bandage covering the bullet wound on his chest.
Josh looked up from his bed and gave her a weak smile. "What makes you think I want either one of you taking care of me?" he rasped.
Blanche accepted the pile of soiled bandages from Candace and gave Josh a disapproving look. "I'm sure you don't want either one of us here, not when you've got a perfectly good wife who would love to have the job if only she knew about it."
"Blanche," Josh said in warning, but his voice was so soft that she almost didn't hear him.
"Miz Blanche, please don't," Candace chastened gently, and Blanche turned away from the bed to dispose of the bandages, wagging her head in disapproval. As soon as she had heard the news about Candace's kidnapping, she and Asa had ridden to the Rocking L, making themselves available to help in any way. Mostly they had simply waited until the bedraggled but victorious Rocking L crew had ridden in late the next morning.
Blanche did not think she would ever forget the sight of that black man cradling Josh's limp body as gently as if he had been a sleeping child. The men told her that after the fight, Jeremiah had carried his wounded brother down the steep trail and all the long ride home, permitting no one to relieve him of his burden.
Jeremiah now waited out in the parlor, refusing to leave even though every minute he spent at the ranch increased his chances of being recognized and arrested. He would not go until he was certain Josh would recover his wound. Unfortunately, Blanche could not yet give him such an assurance.
She slipped quietly out of the sickroom into the parlor, where Jeremiah, Asa, and several of the other men waited anxiously.
"How is he?" Asa asked as soon as she appeared.
"The wound is festering. He's running a high fever, and he's lost a lot of blood. He's so weak…" She let her voice trail off, unwilling to speak aloud of the danger they all understood too well.
"We ought to send for Felicity," Asa insisted, but Blanche quickly shushed him.
"Not so loud! He'll hear you. The last time I mentioned it, he almost got up out of the bed to stop me. He's so worried about that girl that if he even thinks we've sent for her, I don't know what he'll do. Besides, if he…" Her voice caught and she turned away, discreetly wiping the moisture from her eyes. "Felicity might not be able to get here in time anyway."
Her husband came and put his arm around her shoulders in a comforting gesture.
Back in the bedroom, Candace tenderly adjusted the covers over her patient, reminding Josh of the many times she had performed that task for him when he was a young child. He managed another weak smile before his feverish thoughts returned to his main concern. "Don't let them send for her," he murmured.
"I won't," Candace promised, smoothing the silver hair from his burning brow.
"It's too dangerous for her to travel, and I don't want her upset…" he continued.
"Shhh, don't talk," Candace soothed, but he could not hear her. He had slipped into delirium.
"She can't lose the baby," he muttered. "She'll never forgive me…"
"She won't lose it," Candace crooned. "Be quiet now." She stayed with him until he settled into a deep sleep, and then she joined the others in the parlor.
Everyone's gaze immediately flew to her as she came out of the bedroom. "He's sleeping now," she reported reassuringly.
"Candace, you'd better get some rest yourself," Blanche urged, wondering at the older woman's stamina. In spite of the fact that Candace had been kidnapped, carried off into wild country, held prisoner by men intent on killing her, and then had ridden back home again without one moment's sleep, she still looked as dauntless as ever.