"No, not anymore," Tess said.

  "Then there was someone," he prodded.

  "Well, yes. I was engaged for a while, but it didn't work out."

  "What happened?"

  "Stone, it would take me a long time to explain that to you. Let's just say I found out we had different values. I wasn't about to spend the rest of my life with a man who thought more of his purse strings than he did me."

  "Rich, huh?"

  "Oh, yes," she agreed. "Very, very rich. He had money so old, it had mold on it."

  Despite the stab of jealousy and pain that went through him, he managed a short laugh. Money was something he couldn't offer Tess. Every nickel he had was tied up in the ranch. Not that he and the kids ever lacked for anything they really needed, but he'd already borrowed against his herd this year. If that new bull panned out the way he hoped it would, he might at least find himself comfortable in a few more years. Until then, though, he had to squeeze each penny until it said ouch before he turned it loose.

  He couldn't offer a woman a darned thing except a life of hard work day in and out, just to make sure they would have three meals a day on the table. He'd even been worried that the owner of the general store might refuse to put the dresses for Tess on his account, since he was sort of behind on paying it at the moment.

  And that brought him face-to-face with the need to bring in some money pretty quick. Much as he hated to disrupt Rain's lessons and leave his herd unprotected after the attempt to poison it, he had to ride out and look for the wild horse herd that roamed a day or two's ride away. The steers needed another couple of months' fattening before he could make a decent profit on them, but horses, even half-broken, always found a ready market.

  He tucked Tess's picture in his shirt pocket and rose to his feet. "I see what you meant a while ago, I guess."

  "What I meant?"

  "About my not letting myself feel anything for you," he replied. "And I won't forget it. But I'd appreciate it if you'd keep that in mind about the kids. They don't need to lose another person in their lives. They've already lost too much."

  "Stone, I..."

  "Don't worry. You'll have a home here as long as you need it. You've got no business trying to find that time warp with a broken ankle—let alone trying to go back through it. I want you to promise me something, though."

  "What?" Tess asked hesitantly.

  "That you won't try to go up there on your own—without me. It could be dangerous."

  "I won't leave without telling you, Stone, if that's what you want."

  "I do want that. I want your promise."

  "I promise," she said sincerely.

  "Thank you. I'll go along with whatever you decide after your ankle heals. But if you stay around too long, the kids will start caring for you too much—get too attached to you. Try to remember that, will you, while Rain and I are gone the next few days."

  "Stone, you can't stop people from caring about each other. And where are you and Rain going?"

  "After some wild horses," he said, ignoring her other comment. "We'll be back in four or five days—six at the most."

  "But what about your cattle? And Flower has a picnic planned for Sunday."

  "Can't be helped. Work comes first. But I was going to ask you if you felt like riding. You seemed to be pretty good in the saddle the other day, even with your broken ankle, and there's a gentle mare you could mount from the fence. Maybe you and Flower could at least ride out each day and check the cattle, as long as you agree to take the rifle I'll leave here for you. If you find anything wrong, though, just go on into town and get the sheriff. He'll know where I'm at when you tell him I've gone after horses, and he'll send someone after me."

  "I'll be glad to do anything I can to help. You've already done so much for me."

  He strode to the door without another word. But he stopped with his hand on the doorknob and stood with his head bowed for a second. Then he opened the door and turned to look back at Tess.

  "You're right, you know," he said in a quiet voice. "You can't stop people from caring about each other."

  Tess's eyes filled with tears when Stone turned abruptly and almost ran through the kitchen. Darn those pills. If they were going to affect her like this, she'd have to quit taking them.

  Gazing down at the picture in her hands through a mist of moisture, she admitted the truth. No, it wasn't the pills. It was Stone. Quiet, awkward, bossy, caring, wonderful Stone.

  How she had wanted to admit her own love for him on the porch—scream it to the world and shake her fist at the decision she had to make.

  Her fate lay in her own hands. She had found a wonderful man she could surely love, who had already told her that he cared for her in return. How hard it had been to lie to him about wanting to go back to her own time. But a commitment to Stone would have to be absolute. She would have to walk away from all she had fought and struggled for and accept totally being relegated to the past.

  Would he and the kids want to come with her? Could they?

  She tried to imagine Stone in New York City. Oh, Rain and Flower would probably love it at first, as they took in the sights, but it would be so dangerous for them there. Drugs. Gangs. Muggings and other crimes.

  Well, they wouldn't have to stay in the city. One thing she had insisted to Robert was that they move to the country when they decided to have children. Yet she knew in her heart Stone would never adjust in her time. What could he do? He was a rancher and a proud man. He would never be able to build a career for himself there, and he would never live on her salary. Their love would suffer as surely as the seasons changed.

  Pipe dreams were all any of her hopes could be until she came to a firm decision. If she decided to stay here, the same thing might happen to their love. She might grow to resent the loss of her hard-won career. Perhaps the best thing to do was for her to leave while she still had the strength to do so—before she fell any deeper in love with Stone.

  She sniffed and looked out the window when she heard horses' hooves. It had stopped raining and she hadn't even realized it. It must have been only a brief shower.

  She watched Rain and Stone ride out of the yard. Once Stone pulled his horse to a stop and sat without moving for several seconds, but he never looked over his shoulder. She heard the faint echo of Rain's voice calling to his father and shoved the window up.

  Leaning out the opening, she kept her gaze fixed on the two riders until they disappeared from view. Even long afterwards she stared at the last spot where she had been able to see them. Finally, telling herself the watering in her eyes was from eye strain, she turned around and picked up the picture again.

  Lonesome padded into the room and jumped up beside her. Curling her arms around the pup, she buried her face in his newly washed fur. Maybe she could at least take him back with her.

  Angela swiped at a tear trickling down her cheek and choked back a sob.

  "Angie, don't," Michael said, wrapping his arm around her smaller shoulders. "We don't know that things won't work out."

  "That's just it," Angela said in an angry voice. "We don't know. We aren't allowed to know. How are we supposed to know what to do? They're in love with each other, and they'd make a perfect family—Tess, Stone, and the kids."

  "But what if Tess decides to go back to her own time?" he asked. "Then we'd have four broken hearts."

  "We're going to have four broken hearts anyway. They already love each other—all of them. And what's Tess got back there? An empty apartment—a father and two brothers she hasn't seen in years, because about the only use they have for Tess is to ask for a free handout when their paychecks run out before the next payday and they need a case of beer. Darn it, Michael, Tess doesn't really want to spend her life as a lawyer. It's just something for her to do, since she doesn't have a family of her own."

  "We can't interfere with destiny, Angie. That's what you told me, even though I still haven't figured out how we can go back in time—know what happens in history but still not know what happens to Tess."

  "It's because it's Tess's destiny. We're her guardian angels, and she's still living her life."

  He screwed up his face in concentration, then shrugged. "Maybe I'll understand better after I've been at this a while. Anyway, you said we're just supposed to take care of Tess's body—not her emotions."

  "Emotional health sometimes ties into physical health," she said in a determined voice.

  "Angie," he warned, "I think we might already be on some sort of probation. Or at least I am. I'd sure hate to get whisked back and have Mr. G stick me in some other field of practice until I learned my lesson."

  "Field of practice? Oh, Michael, you do have a way with words sometimes!"

  Sixteen

  Tess stared down into the colt's eyes as it stood inside the corral fence, lifting its little muzzle for her to scratch. It had such pretty brown eyes—liquid brown, the same color as Stone's. Well, not exactly like Stone's. His eyes could change—go from chocolate pools of passion to walnut hardness when he got frustrated with her. A few times she had even seen a flinty, near blackness of anger in his eyes, and could almost imagine him standing in a dirt street, his legs spread and his hand inching near his gun.

  Probably more than once he had faced off against another gunslinger when he worked as a sheriff. The old westerns she had loved to watch on television had always sent a chill up her spine during the gunfight scene. The deadly glint in each man's eyes—the tenseness in their shoulders—the low-slung holsters, holding pistols that in another second would flash into the men's hands.

  Mostly it bothered her, though, that one of the two men on the screen would be dead in a second. No matter that the bad guy had shown over and over again that he was corrupt and beyond redemption—sometimes the scene was so well done that Tess forgot for a moment that it was only a screen death. It always came as a jolt for the man to be so alive and living one second, then nothing but an empty body destined for a cold, dark hole in the ground the next.

  How many times had Stone faced something like that? How could the man she knew now—that gentle, caring, loving man—have stood looking into another man's face, knowing that in another second he might send a small ball of lead into the man's chest and kill him?

  How many times had it come close to being the opposite—the ball ending up in Stone's chest, snuffing out that beautiful, caring spirit of his?

  Flower led two horses out of the barn, with Lonesome bounding beside her, and Tess gave a final pat to the colt. It scampered away, kicking up its heels, full of the joy of life. Its little nickers, so different from the more mature neigh when its mother called to it, brought a smile to Tess's face.

  "Are you sure you don't want to take the wagon, Tess?" Flower asked. "We'll be riding farther today than we did yesterday and the day before."

  She shook her head. "I'll be fine, Flower. It's not that I don't think you're perfectly capable of handling the wagon, but I'd really rather ride horseback. And we'll get there faster—have more time to spend at the lake. You've been looking forward to this picnic all week, and we're going to go and have a lazy day of indulging ourselves."

  "We've sure got plenty of food." Flower giggled. "Ham sandwiches, cheese, cucumbers, tomatoes, hard-boiled eggs, apple pie, angel food cake, sweet cider, and elderberry wine. We've even got egg sandwiches for Lonesome."

  "That's all part of the day. Today we aren't going to worry about diets or cholesterol. We're going to eat anything and everything we want. And for some reason that crazy dog likes eggs better than ham."

  "What's cholesterol?"

  "I'll explain that on the way. Right now, let me get up on this corral fence so I can climb on the horse. Lead her over here, will you, honey?"

  Propping her crutches beside her, Tess levered her bottom onto the top corral rail. The gentle mare Flower had brought in from one of the pastures stood quietly while Tess climbed into the saddle and settled herself. When Flower handed her the crutches, she tucked them under her left leg and tied them to the saddle with the rawhide thongs normally used only for decoration.

  "There. I'm ready, honey," she said. "But I guess you better go get the rifle."

  "I already put it in my scabbard, Tess. Gee, it's too bad you had to split your denims again, after you sewed them up."

  She glanced down at her leg. It was still a tight fit getting the jeans over the cast, but she'd be darned if she would struggle with those flapping skirts another day.

  "They'll sew back up again."

  Flower swung onto her horse and reined it over beside Tess. "Well, they sure are a lot more comfortable than riding in a dress. I'm glad you let me wear your extra pair, even if they don't fit me as well as they do you."

  "Just don't wear them in front of your father," she said with a wink. "He'll banish both of us to your room."

  Giggling conspiratorially, they rode out of the ranch yard. Lonesome bounded ahead, already familiar with the route they had taken the last two days. Tess watched him even ignore the jackrabbit that leaped from a clump of grass as they passed. Stomach still full from breakfast, he had no need to hunt for food these days.

  Forever faithful to their assignment, Michael and Angela followed overhead. Angela smiled at Michael as they floated along. The past few days had been peaceful, with Michael only having to keep an eye on Tess when she navigated around with her crutches and rode the gentle mare.

  Michael was becoming quite adept at handling his duties, and Angela felt a little prickle of pride at her student. Not pride in herself for doing such a good job teaching him, she assured herself. Pride in others was acceptable but un-angel-like if it went beyond satisfaction at doing her own duties well.

  It took a little more than an hour to ride to the lake, since they had to check the cattle first. Tess had to admit the ride was worth it. Flower had been right—it was a perfect spot for a picnic.

  Huge pines, dogwood, and live oak lined the shores, but Flower led her to an opening, where lake waves had washed out a sandy beach. The breeze picked up the coolness of the sparkling blue water, and Tess sighed in contentment as she slid down from the mare.

  Not that they needed it on such a hot day, but a picnic just didn't seem right without a fire. After they unsaddled the horses, Tess spread one of the saddle blankets on the beach and sat down to scoop out a depression in the sand, while Flower gathered some wood.

  An hour later they both lay back groaning on their blankets. Tess unsnapped her jeans and slid the zipper down an inch or two.

  "I'm so full I think I'm gonna bust," she said with a moan. "Whatever made me eat so much?"

  "Look," Flower said. "Even Lonesome's full." She held a piece of angel food cake under the dog's nose, but Lonesome shifted his head an inch on Flower's leg and turned away.

  Tess laughed at the pup, then propped an arm under her head and gazed at the sky. Soft, white specks of fluff moved lazily across the brilliant blueness, and she watched them for several quiet minutes. Merging, then separating, they changed shape almost magically and without notice. One moment she would be eyeing a fire-breathing dragon—the next a knight on horseback.

  For a while she and Flower amused themselves by pointing out the different figures each saw in the clouds. Flower would point an indolent finger at a cloud she said looked like a fairy-tale princess, with long, flowing hair. Tess saw an ogre, and had Flower giggling as she described the ogre's humped back and gnashing, pointed teeth.

  Tess saw a buffalo, and Flower insisted it was a white stallion. They both agreed on one cloud, though, that reminded them of the muscled physique on the book from Tess's pack.

  "Tess," Flower finally murmured, "do you think you'll just disappear someday, the same way you appeared?"

  She rolled to her side and looked at Flower's worried face. "No, I don't think it will happen that way," she said. "I... honey, you've accepted the way I came here so well, I hope you can understand what I'm going to say now."

  "Do you want to go back?" Flower asked.

  No! Tess's mind screamed. But she managed to hold her head steady, instead of shaking it in denial.

  "I don't know right now," she said instead. "There's thirty years of my life back in my own time—things I've worked awfully hard to accomplish. Try to put yourself in my place, honey. If you suddenly found yourself in another life, something completely different from what you've lived up until now, how do you think you'd feel?"

  The young girl's brow creased, and she remained silent for several seconds. Then she shook her head. "I really can't imagine it. I mean, if I had Pa and Rain and Grandfather with me, I guess it might be sort of interesting for a while. But I'd miss the ranch and my other friends here." Her eyes were sympathetic as she continued, "Do you miss your family back there?"

  "Not much," she said before she thought. When Flower's face creased in puzzlement, she quickly amended her answer. "My family's not in New York, Flower. There's just my father and two brothers, and they live in West Virginia. They have their own lives there, and we don't have a lot in common anymore."

  "Your mother's dead, too? How old were you when she died?"

  "Ten. I went to live with my grandmother during the summers after Mom died. I'm the youngest—my brothers are lots older than me."

  "I was seven when my mother died. I remember her real well," Flower said. "Most of my memories are good, but that last year was pretty awful. I felt sort of guilty after Pa showed up and took us with him, because mine and Rain's lives got so much better. But Grandfather's life is lots better now, too, when we go visit him."

  "Would you like to tell me about it, Flower?"

  "Uh-huh, if you'd like to listen."

  She nodded silently and listened without interruption while Flower spoke.

  What she remembered most about those years, Flower told her, was constantly being on the move. Sometimes they would just get settled somewhere and, almost the next day, her mother would be tearing down their tepee and loading it on a travois. As soon as she was old enough, Flower realized they were always moving out just ahead of a dreaded bluecoat patrol that was attempting to overtake her people and kill them.