I had finished with the sofa and chairs and was crouched down tending to the bottom shelves at the far end of the room when I was startled by a voice from behind me. "Miss Audra, what are you doin'?"

I jerked my head around to see a very perplexed looking Silas.

Instinctively I jumped to my feet and turned around, trying ineffectually to conceal the cleaning things behind my back.

"I was just looking for something to read," I replied flustered.

The man tilted his body to the right at the waist and craned his neck to see behind me.

"Is that my duster you got behind you there, Miss Audra? I been looking all over for that." Guiltily I produced the ostrich feathered object from behind my back and thrust it out toward him. Startled he looked at the fluffy business end of the duster as if it were a weapon pointed at him. Clumsily I loosened my grip and reversed the device so as to pass it harmlessly to him handle first.

He took it gingerly from me while I apologized for having absconded with it in the first place. "I just felt like making myself useful," I explained. "I hope you don't mind too terribly."

"No, Ma'am, I don't mind," Silas replied, raising his eyebrows in an expression of confused amusement. "Any time you feel like you want to dust the furniture you go right ahead. It don't bother me none. I was about to start on the library just now, but there's silver I been meanin' to polish if you'd prefer to finish up in here yourself. You seem to be doin' a pretty good job." High praise indeed from the master.

"Yes, Silas. I think I will."

He returned the feather duster to me, presenting the handle end laid over his outstretched arm. I accepted it, and he excused himself to tend to the silver. To his amusement, I spent the entire morning dusting and polishing. After I finished in the library I made my way out to the foyer and went to work on the magnificent banister that went the full length of the grand staircase. I started at the bottom and worked my way up the stairs.

It was a marvelously beautiful piece of woodwork. Sturdy as well, I noticed and as smooth as butter. The way the rag just glided over the surface of the highly polished wood filled me with mischievous longing. If only my shoulder weren't hurt I would give it a go, I thought to myself. Silas, having just finished with the silver had gone down to the cellar to take an inventory of canned goods and wasn't likely to return to view any time soon. Just one quick ride, and I could say to myself that I had done it. Who knew when this dream was going to end--if I didn't take the chance now when would I have another? Utterly unable to resist the temptation I set down my polishing rag and scrambled onto the banister. Riding side saddle would doubtlessly have been more elegant, but in my present condition I felt straddling the beast and riding backwards with my belly against it would be safer. I positioned myself just so, took a deep breath and pushed off.

Down I slid, gaining speed at a fantastic rate as I traveled the length of the stairway! As the end neared I began to panic. How was I going to stop? I heard the sound of a door banging open, a couple footsteps accompanied by a little jingle and a loud bellow of "What the hell!" as I proceeded to fly off the end of the banister and plow right into Nick.

The impact was enough to knock him off his feet and send the two of us tumbling backward. Nick fell flat on his back with me on top of him. The back of his head whacked noisily against the hard floor. To my amazement I didn't hurt my shoulder at all. "You OK there, Nick?"

"ARE YOU COMPLETELY OUT OF YOUR MIND???" the man hollered beneath me, then let out a groan. YES! Even if it wasn't my most brilliant move ever, I had finally accomplished something distinctly un-Audralike. I was high on adrenaline and proud of myself in a rather demented kind of way. It occurred to me how silly I had been, spending my time worrying alternately that I wasn't acting sufficiently like the girl whose body I had invaded, or conversely that I was actually turning into her. From now on I was just going to do things the way I would do them and not worry whether they coincided enough or too much with those of the young blonde.

"I've always wanted to try that," I said, sitting up on his chest.

"Would you kindly get your perfumed posterior offa me?" he wheezed.

I looked down at him He was really rather cute sprawled out there on the floor gasping for breath. Did I, Mary Rebeccah Reilly, really want to get off of him? His face started to turn red and splotchy, and his eyes filled with menace. Yes, I suppose I did.

I scrambled to my feat and offered my hand to the poor boy, who lifted himself up on his elbows and shook his head a few times to clear his vision. He glared up in contempt at me and my outstretched arm. After a while the utter absurdity of the situation must have gotten to him. He finally grimaced, took my hand, and pulled himself up.

He rubbed the back of his head with his right hand. "What ever possessed you to do such a damn fool thing?" he asked me. "You could have broken your neck. Especially with that bum wing of yours."

"I would have thought that after this morning that might suit you just fine."

"Yeah, well, you thought wrong." My transgression was not, it appeared, completely unforgivable in his eyes. One nice thing about Nick: while he could lose his temper at the drop of a hat he often found it again just as quickly. Rather like Audra and her tears.

"Lucky for me you happened to be there to cushion my fall," I mused. "Not so lucky for you. Let me see that bump."

"Naw, I'm all right," he replied waving me off.

"Come on now, Nick. I could never forgive myself if I were responsible for you getting your head cracked open." He sighed and surrendered himself to my probing. Standing next to me, he seemed shorter than I expected. Of course, I reminded myself, Audra was a good four inches taller than me, and other than those few screaming moments in her room when my mind was otherwise occupied I had never actually stood next to him in this incarnation. That combined with my recollections of his five-year-old self sliding down that same banister made him somewhat less intimidating to me than he had been at the breakfast table.

My fingers quickly found the spot under his dark hair where he had hit the floor. He had already developed a substantial goose egg. "The skin's not broken," I said, "but I think we'd best go to the kitchen and get some ice for that." He protested, but allowed himself to be herded in that general direction anyway. In the kitchen he sat down on a small wooden chair while I rummaged through the drawers, looking for something with which to chisel off some ice from the chunk in the icebox.

"Did you find everything you needed in town?" I asked him to make conversation. I had just opened a drawer full of various sized spoons. No help there. Too bad I didn't have my Swiss Army knife. That was no doubt at the bottom of the creek along with my keys some hundred plus years in the future.

"Yep, picked up the wire, a couple more pounds of nails, and some other things we'd been running low on." No, pot holders wouldn't do either. I never paid much attention to what Silas did in the kitchen. That man was amazing. With all his cleaning and polishing he had still had time to start lunch. Something that looked suspiciously like macaroni and cheese was standing on the counter ready to go into the oven. Thank goodness I hadn't been asked to cook anything--I had no idea how to control the wood stove, and even if I did, there was a good reason I ate so much peanut butter. I knew how to heat up canned soup and prepare a Kraft dinner, but other than that my repertoire included pretty much only a highly variable casserole my old dorm mates affectionately referred to as train wreck. Hmm, knives and other deadly implements. Ah, here was something solid looking and pointy.

"Heath might appreciate it if you could bring some of that wire out to him. He said there was one last portion of the fence that you guys couldn't get to before the last lot ran out."

"If Heath wants that wire he can come back and get it himself," Nick snapped back. Now if he had forgotten his anger toward me so quickly, why was he still so pissed at his younger brother? I hacked off a few large slivers of ice and deposited them in the center of a dish towel, then gathered up the corners and twisted the bundle together before handing the makeshift ice pack to him.

"What is with the two of you anyway?" I asked exasperated as I helped him guide the ice to the bump on his head.

"Not me!" he protested. "It's Heath and his self righteous blathering! Trying to make me out to be some kind of opportunistic predator. I'm just trying to do what's right for everyone."

"And you think that switching over to hydraulic mining is right for everyone?" I asked scowling.

"Yes!.. No... I don't know," he confessed. "You sure had me riled this morning, but I had a lot of time to go over things on the way to town. You get used to thinking about something in one particular way, and its hard to change it. Like you for instance," he looked up at me. "I'm used to thinking of you as my innocent baby sister. It never would of occurred to me that you might not be..." his face was turning slightly red with, was it embarrassment?

"So pristine?" I finished.

He exhaled sharply through his nose. "Yeah," he said, and twitched his eyebrows, still not quite settled with the notion. That was OK with me. While it wouldn't do to have Victoria thinking her daughter was a tramp, the fact that he was a little unsettled gave me a little leverage with Nick I thought. "Anyway, not that I'm necessarily agreeing with you entirely, but I suppose you had a point there--about the farmers and ranchers being willing to fight for their interests, I mean. They got a lot to be angry about."

"I don't imagine I said anything Heath hasn't already said a dozen times," I chuckled, fully expecting him to come around and drop this silly feud. I was wrong. His eyes immediately darkened. Without a word he lifted the ice pack from the back of his head let it drop from his hand to the counter top with a dull thud, and walked out of the room.

One step forward; two steps back. I was getting nowhere fast. No, not exactly nowhere. Nick could well be coming around on the mining issue, but it occurred to me that the squabble over hydraulics was very likely only an excuse for the brothers to vent their anger with each other over something else that was going on between them.

It was a frustratingly familiar situation. Life would have been so much easier if Mom and Dad's antipathy toward each other hadn't invaded every facet of my life, from oboe lessons to gym suits to whether or not I could spend the night at a friend's house. Everything became a major issue to be battled over to the last breath. It fell on me to smooth the ruffled feathers and find a way to work around their insurmountable differences in order to be able to build myself an environment in which I could function. They must have loved each other at one time in order to have been able to hurt one another badly enough to develop such hatred.

Interpersonal relationships could be such a bitch. Math was much easier, as calming to the soul as dusting furniture, and when you got to that one little aha! after which you just knew without a doubt the rest of the equation would pour forth onto the paper, well, there's nothing like that feeling. Well, one thing, but I don't think Victoria would have found that a wholesome comparison.

I hadn't tried working on my thesis in a long time, the whole summer really, but all of a sudden I felt a desire to do just that. Actually, I had had a slight itching in that direction ever since I came crashing through the window and saw the revelation in the glass, but it hardly seemed in character for the young blonde. Now that I had decided to quit worrying about such things I couldn't wait to get started. I couldn't quite remember what it was I had grasped in my dreams, but I was sure it was real. Perhaps if I just settled down and started working it would flow out of me. Not like the night in the bathtub with the Bailey's. Yeesh! Transformations between the Dubuc and homomorphisms topoi, indeed! I wanted to do good math, and good math required lots of good coffee. Was it the prolific Hungarian, Paul Erdos who claimed that a mathematician was merely a machine for transforming caffeine into theorems?

I might not be able to prepare a twelve course dinner, or even boil a potato for that matter, but I can make good coffee.

Ten minutes later I was sitting at the desk in the library with a full coffee pot (bless that Silas, he always kept hot water on the stove), a healthy stack of paper, pen and inkwell beside me. I took a sip from my cup (no sugar or cream, thank you very much!) and smiled blissfully. I would have preferred my usual New Guinea Gold, but beggars can't be choosers and this would do quite nicely. Thus primed, I dipped the pen into the ink and set to work.

Accustomed as I was to my ball points, it took a while to get a hang of the old fashioned pen. At first I applied too much pressure and left a large black puddle on the paper. Crud. I tried as best I could to reabsorb the excess ink back into the pen but only succeeded in spreading it into an ever increasing circle. It was a good thing I had a lot of paper. The second time I dipped the pen too deeply into the inkwell and got the dark liquid all over the tips of my fingers when I tried to write. Then, when I had finally gotten pressure and quantity correct, my hand kept smearing the ink on the paper and obscuring my work. Grr, this was frustrating! Eager as I was to get going, I decided I'd best devote one sheet and sufficient time to practicing with the new tool.

When I finally felt reasonably competent, I plucked out a fresh sheet and started to sketch out the diagram I had been working on in my head. It consisted of arrows, circles and letters, spreading out from a central locus I tried to make it as geometric as possible, so as to keep it easy to read. While the individual units in the diagram grouped and regrouped in different directions, the overall shape was coming out quite regular. I was close. I knew it, but just not quite there.

My hand was a stained mess when Nick came into the library to let me know that lunch was ready. "What are you doing in here, Audra?" he asked. "This is about the last place I expected to find you." He walked around the desk behind me and looked over my shoulder. "What's this?"

"Math," I answered, not looking up.

"Math?" he said incredulously. "Doesn't look like math to me. Where are the numbers?"

"Not all math involves numbers," I informed him.

"Uh huh, right. Well it still doesn't look like math to me," he reiterated. "Looks more like one of your quilting patterns."

"Very funny," I scowled. "It's a logic diagram, sort of. I'm trying to demonstrate a relationship..." I shook my hand in irritation, splattering my paper with tiny black spots. If only I could remember that dream. I set down the pen and reached for my coffee.

"Careful, Audra, you might strain your brain. What's this sudden intellectual interest of yours? That Jason of yours a mathematics professor or something?"

He had caught me mid-sip, and what had remained of my work was washed out by the deluge as I proceeded to lose the entire mouthful across the desk.

"What? Did I say something funny?" Nick asked, marveling at the impressive spray.

"Jay?" I coughed, coffee dripping out of Audra's dainty nose. "Jay had difficulty counting the buttons on his shirt!" I surveyed with dismay the flood in front of me. The watery black letters and arrows had risen from the paper and hovered in indecipherable swirls intermingled with brown liquid. Oh well. It wasn't as if I had lost anything profound. I'd doubtless have plenty of time to work some more after lunch. I gave a heavy sigh then looked back up at Audra's hazel eyed brother. "Rather like you!" I added playfully, trying unsuccessfully to mop up the mess with a piece of blotting paper.

"Me? Hah! I can count well enough to keep track of a herd." Out of the corner of my eye I could swear I saw him take a quick tally of his own buttons. "Don't see much use for your fancy algebra," he continued, waving at the soggy mess on the desk.

"It's not algebra, its category theory."

"What's it for?"

"Well, its great for stealing results from one field and applying them to another."

His eyes glazed over. "You mean like comparing ranges? Sounds more like agriculture."

"No, more like piecing together patterns in different contexts."

"Patterns! I knew it had to do with your quilting! You're determined not to let that blue ribbon pass you by this year aren't you? Well, it sounds like nonsense to me, but I wish you luck. You know, I think a towel would work better. Why don't you just come to lunch and let Silas take care of that?"

I agreed reluctantly, though I hated to make more mess for the elderly servant. It was bad enough using a chamber pot that morning. If I hadn't been so reluctant to leave the house for any reason I would have avoided that devise altogether.

I stopped to wash up on the way to the dining room. After struggling one handed, I finally unslinged my left arm and carefully used that hand to slosh water over the ink stained one. There was a twinge in my left shoulder, but the pain was not unbearable. After lathering up and rinsing, the water in the bowl was a dark, opaque gray, but my finger tips and the outside of my right hand still looked pretty black.

Well, it would have to do. The rest would eventually wear off. Taking a page from Jason's book I figured that as long as it didn't rub off on the towel I could call it clean.

I ducked back into the library to fetch the coffee pot before heading to the lunch table. There was no sense in leaving it to get cold. At the table I even allowed Nick to pour himself a cup, generous soul that I am. He seemed rather surprised but not displeased with the flavor. "That's not bad," he said appraisingly, "but I don't think you let it boil long enough."

"I didn't boil it at all," I replied indignantly. "I just used lots of coffee and very hot water. Boiling it gives it that nasty burned acid flavor."

"It puts hair on your chest," he asserted.

"Since when?" I indicated the baby smooth skin showing beneath his half unbuttoned shirt.

Nick looked offended. "Don't worry," I said, "some women find that very attractive. If its any comfort to you, Jason only had three last time I checked." He did not appear to take any comfort whatsoever in what he considered to be his sister's overly frank observations regarding her lover's anatomy. I would have liked to put him at ease the same way I had Victoria, but I didn't think I could lie convincingly. The half-truth I had told her had just fallen out of my mouth as a natural response to her probing. Audra's brother had afforded me no such opportunity. He would just have to go on thinking I had been sleeping with Jay, which, of course, I had even if she hadn't.

"Does this boyfriend of yours have a last name?" He asked, helping himself to the casserole.

"Yes. Yes, he does. Pass the pepper, please."

"Well? Aren't you going to tell me what it is?"

"Why? So you can try to track him down? Next thing I'd know you'd be sending telegrams all over the country trying to dig up dirt on him. No thank you."

"You afraid I'll find some?"

"Can we change the subject, please, to something more appropriate for the dinner table? Religion? Politics? Capital punishment?"

"Okay, what religion is he?"

The man's persistence was infuriating. "BUDDHIST!" I said, just to be perverse.

Nick screwed up his face and frowned. "You're seeing a heathen?" he asked incredulously.

"What's wrong with heathens? They're a little misguided, maybe, but overall as decent as anybody else. But no, I was just kidding. Jay's an agnostic." He had lived in so many houses and attended so many different conflicting churches he was skeptical of any religion. His sculpture, however, reflected his search for meaning.

"So, just what does this Jason fellow do?"

"If you must know, he's an artist," I replied.

"An artist!" he snorted derisively.

"Yes," I said. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"And if I do?" He placed his hands on his hips

"Then I'd say its none of your business."

"Of course its my business!"

"I beg your pardon?" I retorted. "How do you figure that?"

"I'll be damned if I'll have my little sister being taken advantage of by some little blood-sucking..."

"Jason is not a blood-sucker." I asserted. "Or little, for that matter--he's taller than you."

"...leech."

"You don't even know him!"

"I know the type. They seek out unsuspecting little rich girls to latch themselves to while they sit around on their asses and get fat."

"He's nothing like that." The very idea of Jay being after my meager stipend was ludicrous.

"I see. So I suppose he's some big shot, who gets paid hundreds of dollars for each picture he puts out."

"He's not that kind of artist."

"No, I didn't think so."

"Could you just stop ranting long enough to listen to me?" I blurted out. He opened his mouth to say something else but I fixed him with one of Audra's icy glares. I continued in a quieter tone. "Jason is not about to marry me for my money. Or for anything else, for that matter."

"No?" he asked skeptically.

"Truth be told, he couldn't commit to a brand of ketchup, much less anything as serious as marriage," I confessed.

Nick looked a bit confused at the ketchup comment, but he got my gist. "Then what are you doing with him, for Pete's sake?!"

"I love him," I answered simply.

"Aw for cryin' out loud, Audra. How dense can you be?"

"You're a fine one to talk! Tell me something, Nick. When was the last time your little sister ever gave you the slightest bit of grief about one of the women you were seeing?"

"When have I ever given reason for her to?"

My jaw dropped, appalled. He has got to be kidding, I thought to myself, going over the myriad bits of bad female news he had escorted across the threshold to this house. "You don't REALLY want me to answer that, do you?" I challenged him, hand on my hip.

Immediately he switched from aggressor into full defensive mode, and dropped his fork noisily on his empty plate. "Oh now that's great! Don't tell me you're taking Heath's side!"

"There's not a damn thing wrong with Ellie's character! A sweeter, more honorable girl you never met, and if that wasn't good enough for Heath then the hell with him! What he did was unforgivable. He left her flat without a soul in the world to look after her. He's got no right to complain if I saw fit to pick up where he left off, and neither have you."

Now I hadn't known Heath all that long, but this sounded way off base. "Heath would never do a thing like that!" I exclaimed.

"Open your eyes, girl! That's exactly what he did!" He held up his thumb and forefinger a couple of millimeters apart. "Before Angus died when that tunnel caved in you woulda thought he was just that far from asking her to marry him. Two weeks later I find her cryin' her eyes out because not only has she lost her father, but that son of a bitch won't even see her!" His eyes had turned three shades darker and his mouth made one long flat line across his face. "If Angus'd gone hydraulic like he'd planned, none of this would have ever happened. But no, Mr. Stick Your Self-Righteous Nose Into Everyone's Business had to go and talk him out of it, and now five good men are dead who didn't have to be." I shuddered involuntarily. Soon there would be five more.

I made an educated guess. "Is that why you've been so set on converting, Nick? Because of Angus Tanner?" I asked, the wheels in my mind spinning.

"No," he avoided looking in my eyes. "That has nothing to do with it." I no more believed that than I did that there was a horse running around with the name "Betty" branded on its butt. And when the mine would collapse with his brother in it, what were the chances he would abandon the notion himself and give in to the agrarians' demands? A snowball's in hell.

He would want revenge. The Cerres de la Cruz mine would be transformed with all haste into a hydraulic mine. There was no question in my mind, and his anger would easily spur the surviving family members of the rest of the mine owners to join in. There would be no way Heath would be able to talk him out of it, and Victoria, who was no more willing than any other Barkley to give in to shows of violence might well back him to the hilt.

And what of Heath? Vicky had said it was a woman that came between him and Nick. I had been skeptical of that as I watched them grow together, closer than many pairs of siblings I had known. Certainly closer than me and Rebeccah, though that didn't take much. The two of them could be fiercely competitive, but I could hardly believe that after finally allowing himself to become a part of the family Heath would give it all up in a dispute over a girl. Now I understood there was more to it than that. There would be a mountain's weight of guilt. Resentment, regret, and accusations--spoken and unspoken--would rock the foundations of the house as a result of the sudden of their older brother. Nick's marriage to Eloise Tanner would only be the final storm that brought the roof down.

Jarrod was the key. If he could be saved I was confident that all else could be set right in time. It would be difficult, but the family had been through many trials before. Still, I was curious what had happened between Heath and Ellie. I couldn't imagine him just dropping a girlfriend, especially when she would be likely to need him the most. Something told me the young woman had not been entirely open with Nick.

Having finished with lunch and our conversation, Nick started to excuse himself. He had work to do, he claimed, and wouldn't be back until dinner.

"Nick, please," I said, taking his arm. "I have no intention of taking sides between you and Heath. You're both like brothers to me, and I would hate to see either of you hurt. You must care very deeply for Eloise to be so angry with him for her sake. I hope you can find it within your hearts to forgive each other. It tears me apart to see you two like this."

"I haven't done anything that needs forgiving," he asserted, but his features softened some, and he gave me/Audra a brotherly peck on the cheek before he left. He was so stubborn and convinced of his own rectitude. But at least he wasn't going away angry with me.

Once the lunch dishes were cleared I went back to the library to recommence my work. I had much less difficulty with the pen this time. I had gotten about halfway through the diagram when I realized that if I kept on working from the center on out I was going to get ink all over my hand again. I decided to go ahead and finish the right hand expansion then used another piece of paper for the left. I had expected it to be a perfect reflection, but it wasn't, and I wasn't quite sure why. The farther I varied from the locus the more the two sides differed, but then by the time I reached the edge I realized it was identical to the right though it was composed of parts of completely different transformations. But the edges didn't even mean anything at all, I puzzled. They existed only as a convenience. A way of packaging what was inside. I had only chosen a particular consistent point at which to bend the diagram inward in order to fit it on the paper. It made me wonder what would happen if I picked a different point.

I took out a fresh sheet of paper and started again bending in at an earlier point with the same result. Other parts of the diagram were forced to the outside making the two right and left edges identical but with that same odd off symmetry inside. This was looking more like chaos theory than category theory. It brought to mind representations I had seen of the Mandelbrot set. But what was it doing here? I tried one iteration after another all with the same overall result. Something was pressing on the inside of my brain, trying to get out. I was definitely on the right track.

I heard the door open, and Jarrod walked in carrying a satchel. "Well, good afternoon there, Audra. Its nice to see you looking so busy. Feeling better I dare say?"

"Yes, thank you. How go things with the Hansons? Has Jillie had her baby yet?"

"As a matter of fact she has. A little girl. They've decided to name her Jane. Both ladies are doing fine, but Mother asked me to tell you not to wait up for her. Jillie had me wire her sister in Sacramento for her, and Mother will be staying on until she arrives tomorrow afternoon. Burt's never been anywhere near a baby before, and he's completely useless. You'll say good bye for me, won't you, Audra?"

"Good bye?"

"Yes, now that I've finished my business with Burt, I'll be heading out on the morning train."

"Oh," I said, flustered. Before I could think of anything to say to that he changed the subject.

"What have you been doing there?" he asked, cocking his head sideways to view my diagrams.

"Just a bit of math," I replied.

"Math? I would have guessed a quilting pattern. Your young man wouldn't happen to work at the university, would he? Trying to impress him by improving your mind?" Luckily I was not drinking coffee this time, but if I had been I would have been more likely to throw it at him than spit it out. He could be so condescending, assuming that most everything Audra did was to impress young men. Perhaps there was an element of truth to that, but was it so hard to believe that she might take up intellectual pursuits just to please herself?

That was a silly question. I had been watching her since birth and had seen no evidence of it, and I had seen her when there was no one else around to appreciate her actions. She had her horses, her pickles, her charities and her quilts. Jarrod had tried to teach her chess once, but failed miserably. She wanted to pretend the queen was the mother and the pawns were her little babies, and refused to move them in the prescribed manner. "The mother has to stay near her children," she insisted, and flew into tears when he dared to capture her, claiming that now all the little babies would be orphans. It was no wonder Audra's brother thought she was a little weak in the head. Just one time, I thought, I would like to see him eat a little crow.

Now, however, would not be the time. He required the desk I was sitting at, as much of the documentation for the mine was contained within its drawers, and he wished to go over all the figures before heading out in the morning. He had his own math to do, he observed with a patronizing smile.

I gathered my papers and left him to his business.

About halfway down the keyboard, I started plinking out a tune. A silly one, poorly executed, that wasn't due to be written for another few decades. I had to go through the verse a number of times before I was able to do it properly, without hitting the odd wrong note. When I had repeated it twice without error, I started singing softly along with it. "Pass--engers--will please--refrain--from us--ing toi--lets while--the train--is stan--ding in--the sta--tion I--love you." Plink, plink, plink. "We encour--age con--stipa--tion while--the train--is in--the sta--tion moon--light--al--ways--makes--me--think--of--you!"

"I don't reckon I've ever heard that one before, Audra!"

I must have jumped six and a half inches out of my seat, I was so startled by the drawl behind me. He was so quiet, I hadn't even noticed him come in. I blushed, embarrassed to have been discovered thus. It was quite strange to find myself the watched rather than the watcher, and I wondered how long he had been standing there unnoticed. "Where'd ya hear it?" Heath asked curious. "Jay?"

"Uh, yes." Actually I learned it from my dad and taught it to Jason, but I wasn't about to pin it on Tom Barkley.

"I think I like him already," he gave a half smile.

"You know, I think you would," I declared. "You've got a lot in common."

"He a cowboy?" he asked twiddling his hat.

"No, but he's very diligent and thoughtful, and he's had to rely on himself since he was very young."

"Well, that could be good or bad," he observed.

"A bit of both," I agreed, then scowled. "I'm not sure what Nick would make of him."

"Does it matter?" the man asked, losing that half smile.

"It would to him. To Jason, I mean. I think it would matter a lot. He was an orphan, and got passed around from family to family as a child. I think what he wanted more than anything is to just have a place where he was accepted unconditionally. I don't think he would let it show, but if he were to have anything to do with this family it would really bother him if he didn't have Nick's approval."

"Then maybe he's just better off not getting involved," the fair haired man said.

"You can't mean that, Heath," I pleaded. "You don't feel that way, do you? Like you would have been better of not getting involved?"

"No, I don't," he said, "but then I'm not gonna shoot myself over not havin' Nick's approval either. If he wants to be an ass that's his problem. When he decides he wants to be a human being again he knows where to find me." He said it so casually, I almost believed it, but then Heath was good at hiding his feelings until they just grew so large that he couldn't contain them anymore.

Just then, he noticed the papers I had left on top of the piano and sorted through them. "Hey, I see you've been working on some new quilting designs." He examined my work carefully. "I kinda like this one," he said, pointing to my third iteration. "Reminds me of the one you entered in the fair last year." Oh for crying out loud, not him too. I would have set him straight, but I wasn't about to let him skirt the subject I had so carefully been approaching.

"Why is he so angry with you?" I asked him straight out.

"I think you're better off asking him that," he said evasively, gathering the papers back together and leaving them in a neat pile. "He'd know know that better than anyone."

"I already did."

"Well, there you go, then." He turned away and started out toward the foyer.

"Do you want to know what he told me?"

"Nope." He didn't even pause as he tossed the hat in a perfect arc that landed it squarely on the rack and headed upstairs.

This would not do. It would not do at all. Heath might be a private man, but I didn't consider this a private matter. It affected the whole family, and he was going to talk to me about it whether he wanted to or not. I got up from the piano and followed him up the steps.

The door to his room was closed as usual, and when I knocked he didn't answer. "Heath?" I said, with no response. In a gross violation of etiquette I opened the door anyway to find the fair haired boy lying on his bed reading a book.

"I don't recall inviting you in," he said not looking up.

"Heath, we need to talk. This dispute between you and Nick has got to stop before it gets blown completely out of proportion. I 'm sure there must be some sort of misunderstanding."

"There's no misunderstanding, Audra."

"There has to be. What happened, Heath? Did she blame you for Angus' death?"

"Have I ever told you you're better off minding your own business?" he asked acidly.

"No more than a thousand times, I'm sure," I replied. I walked over to the side of his bed and looked down at the top of his blond head. He continued to stare into his book, his eyes going back and forth across the page as he pointedly ignored me. How could I command his attention? I looked around the room. Over the past four years he had accumulated a few things which now graced the tops of his dresser and desk. A grooming set with a bottle of aftershave, some books, and a couple odd things which had meaning only to him--a horse shoe, a bit of rope tied into an interesting knot, some Mexican coins--all carefully placed to denote their significance to him. Still alone on his bedside table stood the photograph of Leah Thomson.

Before he noticed what I was doing, I had picked up the plain wooden frame and was examining the picture of his mother. The result was instantaneous. He got a look on his face as if I had grabbed him by the short hairs and yanked with all my might. He made a quick grab for it, but I had stepped back away from the edge of the bed and out of his immediate reach.

"Nick claims you abandoned Eloise when she needed you most, but I can't believe you would treat any woman like that no matter what. What did she do, Heath? Did you get into an argument over this whole hydraulic issue?" The man stood up and gave me a threatening look more bloody than any I had gotten from the more sanguine brother over the past two days, and I returned the portrait to his custody.

"I did not abandon her," he stated, cradling the picture in his arms. "And it had nothing to do with the mine, either. She was as anxious as I was to change her father's mind about that, even more so. I would have stood by her side and helped her through this if she woulda let me. I told her I would be there for her to talk to or hold her or help her in any way she needed, but she wanted something from me that I just wasn't ready to give. She was alone and scared and wanted someone, anyone to cling to, but I wasn't about to take advantage of her grief and let her do something she might later regret. And when I refused she got insulted and sent me packin'. If she'd just had a moment to think it over she would have known it was for the best to wait until her head was clear before making any decisions she couldn't take back. Then along comes Nick like some wolf coming across a newborn fawn lyin' in the grass."

"Now that's not fair," I began to protest.

"Isn't it? He'd had his eye on her from the git go. I wasn't away from her for two minutes when he stepped in, and she was so angry and hurt she was ready to grab ahold of anything that came along."

"You don't think she loves him?"

" She might," he admitted reluctantly. "She always did have more in common with Nick than with me. They're both the impulsive sort, quick tempered and liable to act without thinkin'. When we first started going out I wondered if she wasn't just pickin' me because he was still seeing Sally Ann at the time." He set the picture back down on the table. "I don't know if she loves him. I don't think she even knows, not really. She just needs some time to figure out what it is she really wants, or she's never gonna know for sure if she made the right decision. What's gonna happen ten years from now if she realizes she's made a mistake?"

I had a pretty good idea, and it wouldn't even take ten years. I looked at him again and could see the hurt in his eyes. He was still in love with her. Even though she'd gone and taken up with his own brother, he still loved her and would probably forgive her. Unfortunately, Nick did as well, which made the situation very difficult indeed. The question was, which one did she love? I wasn't sure I wanted her for either of them, but their hearts were no more subject to my will than Audra's was to theirs. I would have liked to have given Miss Tanner a piece of my mind, but unless she came to the house--an unlikely event with the current tension between Nick and Heath over her--I wasn't going to get the chance.

"Would you have asked her to marry you? Before the cave in?"

He sighed deeply. "Yes, I would have, but after Angus died I didn't think she was competent to make a thoughtful decision. I didn't want her to say yes just because she didn't have anywhere else to turn."

"Then why don't you ask her now?" I couldn't believe I was saying that. What was I thinking?

"Are you out of your mind?" I was wondering the same thing myself. "If you think Nick is pissed off at me now just how do you think he would react if I did that?"

"This from the man who wasn't about to shoot himself over his approval."

"Its too late. She's made her choice."

"I don't think you really believe that."

"Besides, I kinda get the feeling he's gettin' close to askin' her himself."

Then he hadn't yet. That was a good thing. "I see, and you'd prefer Ellie marry him because she doesn't have anywhere else to turn. Now that makes a lot of sense."

"That's not what I mean."

"Then give her a choice. Maybe if she has that opportunity then ten years from now she won't be wondering if she maybe married the wrong brother out of desperation. Nick might not appreciate it, but I think overall you'd be doing him a favor. If she says yes, you'll be keeping him from making a terrible mistake."

"And if she says no?"

"Then you're no worse off than you are now. And maybe it will help you let go."

He didn't respond as I turned around and left the room, closing the door quietly behind me. I felt sick to my stomach. What had I done? I wouldn't have suggested such a thing if I hadn't seen the future spelled out before hand and known the danger of letting it be. Whether or not it would help I didn't know, but what could it hurt them in the long run, really? Not them.

I went back to Audra's room feeling the cold sting of betrayal hanging over my chest. Could he have forgiven me for this ever? Would he have understood? Approved? I walked deliberately across the room to gaze deeply into the mirror, hoping to superimpose Audra's deep blue irises over the murky hazel ones that hovered in my imagination.. "What do you want me to do?" I whispered to her reflection. "Is it right to risk sacrificing the future for the past? I love them all, you know. You or the house, someone made sure of that. I want to help, but If I do, nothing will be the same as it was. We may end up sacrificing the very people who drew me here in the first place, and I don't know if I can bear the weight of that cross."

I watched Audra's lips moving in time with mine and searched her gaze for an answer, but none came. I only noticed a faint ray of hope in her eyes that I didn't feel emanated from my own soul. Hell, what was I asking her for? What did she know about any of this anyway? I began to shiver as an odd chill overcame me. It was summer, so naturally there was no fire in the hearth to warm myself by. Then in the mirror I caught the reflection of one of her silly quilts draped over a frame in the corner of the room.

"Is that your answer?" I asked derisively walking over to the throw. I picked it up and shook it out, preparing to place it around my shoulders when something in the pattern caught my eye. It was an odd asymmetry that was strangely familiar.

hapter 28      I laid the quilt out on the bed and stared incredulously at the colorful swatches stitched together with such care. Audra, child, I thought, what goes on inside that fluffy little brain of yours? I hustled down the stairs,--thud, thud, thud, thud, thud--and snatched my papers from the piano bench then hurried--thud, thud, thud, thud, thud--back up. It was crazy I knew, but considering all the other peculiar correlations I'd found between this life and my own I couldn't resist making the comparison. I dug out the third iteration which Heath had indicated and examined it with a different eye. I had to unfocus in order to obliterate the symbols and arrows from my consciousness and just view the diagram as a pattern of shapes. Just as he had observed the designs were very similar. There was a slight variation in one spot, right near the locus, and when I looked back at my diagram I realized I had made a mistake. I had missed the self referent.

Bloody hell! How could I have forgotten that? Without it the whole thing was a meaningless curiosity, but with it--I shook my head in amazement. I went back over all my work and saw that I had consistently made the same error over and over again. I had probably been doing the same blamed thing for the past six years. It was so obvious I could have hit myself in the head with something. But she had gotten it right. In her own way, that is. And she hadn't even gotten the blue ribbon for it. How horribly unfair.

A-f***ing-ha!

That feeling washed over me--that I've got it now feeling--and I knew what the missing piece of my theorem was. And I knew I could prove it. I had captured that shining nugget from the flowing slurry, and held it secure in my hot little hands. I had no doubt now. I didn't even need to write it down, so firm an impression had it made on my brain, but I'd had enough experience with losing ideas that I knew it was the prudent thing to do.

I fumbled through Audra's writing desk for a pen and paper, but only found a very quaint ostrich quill and--oy-- scented stationary. It was either that or go invade the library. I reluctantly chose to stay and spent the next half hour getting used to the frilly and ungainly instrument. The quill was not well balanced, and the fluffy end fluttered ridiculously at eye level in a most distracting manner. On top of that, the pen had a calligraphic tip which made writing legibly that much more difficult. To my credit, I did not spill any ink on the desk, and by the time I had completed my new revised diagram my fingers were only slightly blacker than before. By the time a loud door slam announced Nick's return home I had produced three very stylish looking pages of explanation and proof, and was feeling warm and fuzzy all over.

"You're certainly in a chipper mood," Jarrod observed when I came down the stairs just prior to the dinner hour. He looked especially dashing just then, and not the least bit condescending. I felt completely in my element, and it must have showed.

"Yes, I am!" I said feeling mighty proud of myself and as haughty as a princess. "I've just solved a very difficult problem, and I feel like celebrating!" There was an extra little bounce in my step as I skipped across the foyer and joined the handsome young lawyer in the living room. Gone were my earlier feelings of resentment toward him. He could think what he liked about my intellect. I was the Math-Meister. I reigned supreme. He smiled appreciatingly at me as I offered him my hand, which he graciously kissed.

"In that case perhaps you'd care to join me in a sherry before dinner," he offered.

"Why thank you, I think I will!" I said. I'd only had sherry once before, and apart from it being sweet I couldn't remember what it tasted like. From the mildly surprised look on his face I surmised that Audra didn't partake of alcohol any more often than I did. Probably even less. I certainly couldn't picture her getting blotto on Irish cream in the bathtub no matter how she'd been shaken. Or retching into a chamber pot afterward.

While Jarrod was pouring, Nick entered the room freshly scrubbed for dinner. "Can I pour you one as well, Nicholas?" the older brother asked.

"Sure, but make mine a whiskey," came his response.

"I'm afraid we're it for dinner tonight," Jarrod said handing out the glasses. "Mother is indisposed at the Hanson ranch until tomorrow, and Heath left about half an hour ago saying not to expect him back until late."

"Oh? Wherever did he go?" I asked, blinking my eyes and trying to look as innocent as possible.

"He didn't say," Jarrod answered. " But he did put on a clean shirt and tie. I thought perhaps you might know."

"I didn't even hear him leave," I protested, nonchalantly sipping the sherry. Nick did not appear at all perturbed that we would be dining without the company of the fair haired brother, but Jarrod seemed disappointed.

"I was hoping for a good game of chess this evening. Besides, I'd like to have a word with you all together. I may have a solution to the Marysville situation that will be acceptable to everyone."

Dinner passed by uneventfully, and we all returned to the living room where Jarrod started setting up the chess board. With Heath unavailable Jarrod was able to cajole Nick into taking his place by agreeing to spot him a rook. They agreed to a five dollar bet on the game with an additional one dollar for each piece the winner had in excess of the loser, or penalty if it happened to go the other way around. It was too pitiful to watch. As usual when Jarrod played his dark haired brother he toyed with him like a cat with a mouse. He played carelessly, giving Nick openings he knew he wouldn't take just because he wouldn't notice them. Even so, it wasn't long before the younger brother had lost the four point advantage he had begun with.

During the game they talked about the mining operation. "I'm not so sure it would necessarily be to our advantage to go ahead with it," Jarrod opined, taking another pawn.

"No?" Nick was skeptical. "How do you figure that?" He passed up snagging the exposed remaining rook and took a knight with his bishop.

Jarrod smirked at the foolish move. "Well, setting up the equipment will be expensive and time consuming, and if we do have to shut down in a couple of years"--he glanced at me--"I'm not sure we'll make an overall profit over our current operation." He examined the board casually then captured the errant bishop. "That doesn't mean the whole deal has to be off," he continued. "We can still combine with the smaller operations and employ some updates in the technology. It won't be quite as profitable, but we should definitely see a step up in production in very little time. Check."

The younger brother frowned at his position. He moved a pawn into the path of the bishop threatening him. It was actually a very good move. I could see the elaborate trap he had laid out. "Don't suppose Walker will be too happy about that."

"No, but he's a big boy. He'll live." Jarrod's next move was not so good. He took the pawn and fell head first into the snare.

"Good for you, Nick!" I said punching the man in the arm. "I didn't know you had it in you."

Apparently he didn't either. Nick glowered at me in a way that said he thought I was teasing him. Jarrod seemed to be of the same opinion.

I was unperturbed. "He's got you, Jarrod. Mate in four."

"In four? I hardly think so," the older brother smirked, raising his right eyebrow. "Just when did you start playing chess, Audra?"

I grinned widely, showing the points of my teeth and narrowed my eyes. When I was five.

"What do you mean 'mate in four'?" the younger asked suspiciously.

"I mean if you make all the correct moves there's no way you can lose. That was a very nice little trap you set."

"Uh, yeah. Right." He looked back at the board trying to see what it was I meant. Then, nodding slightly he reached for his remaining bishop.

"No, don't do that!" I said slapping his hand.

"Well, what did you have in mind?" he asked. He was completely baffled by the pieces laid out before him. He probably didn't think more than a couple moves ahead.

"Move your queen out there in front of his pawn," I urged him.

He shook his head. "But then I'll be leaving the rook--"

"Trust me," I insisted. "I know what I'm saying." He didn't look entirely sure, but he did as I instructed anyway. The possibility of actually beating Jarrod rather appealed to him. The likelihood of his accomplishing that without my help was rather slim, and he certainly didn't want to lose on his own power after I had gone and said that if he played it right he couldn't help but win.

Jarrod chuckled and did something I hadn't expected. He ignored the exposed rook and moved his own in such a way that threatened the key black knight.

"Oops." I said blinking my eyes and stepping back. "I didn't see that."

"I thought not," The clever man's blue eyes twinkled.

"That was a good move."

Nick looked disappointed. "Does that mean I don't get to win?"

"Oh, heavens no, he's toast. But it will take one more move and you lose your queen. Just move that pawn forward one space." Nick complied, somewhat more confidently.

Jarrod couldn't believe the two of us. He took the knight and counted the points. So far he had three pawns, one rook, knight and bishop. Nick had also taken three pawns and a knight. That plus the rook the more experienced player had spotted him set the two apart by three points, or one piece.

I had Nick move the queen over three spaces and nudged his shoulder. "Huh? Oh. Check!" he said.

"I don't know what you think you're doing," Jarrod said sliding his rook over to her. He stopped just short of the tall black piece and his grin inverted itself. He set the rook back down and examined the chess board more closely than he had before. His eyes moved from one piece to another in disbelief. Then abruptly he toppled over the white king and started to get up from his chair.

"Just what do you think you're doing?!" Nick demanded.

"You win. I resign."

"Oh no you don't!" the younger man challenged him, folding his arms across his chest and nodding at the board. "You're gonna play this through!"

Jarrod pulled himself the rest of the way up and reached into his pocket for his wallet. He extracted four crisp bills and laid them out on the table. "Here you are, Nick. Five for the game less one for the bishop. We stop here and I'll forgive you the queen."

"Sit!" the other barked.

" Just take the money," Jarrod said, but when his brother showed no sign of caving in, he returned to the seat. Nick gestured for him to go on with his move. The man flashed me an evil glare as without looking at the board he moved the white rook to take his brother's queen. Nick put his finger on a pawn and looked up at me. I nodded. Grinning he slid it kitty corner to take the pawn directly beside the rook. One more step and the cute little fellow would have the trapped king at its mercy. And there wasn't a damn thing Mr. Smartypants could do about it. Moving the rook would expose the white to the black rook on the other side, and Nick's remaining bishop insured the security of the pawn's final destination. Jarrod just sat there.

"Move!" Nick demanded.

"And do what? You've got me."

"I don't care. Anything. Just so long as its legal."

Jarrod scowled and took a pointless pawn with his remaining bishop. Nick considered for a moment taking that bishop with his, thus gaining another piece, but I reminded him that that would spoil his set up.

"Oh yeah." He moved the pawn forward one space. "Check and mate!"

Jarrod grumbled picking up three of the dollar bills, "You realize that was utterly pointless, don't you?"

"Not to me!" Nick grinned. He stopped a moment to tally up the points. "Lets see that was eight for the queen for you plus one for the pawn. Then I had that pawn. Hang on there, Lawyerman! You still owe me thirty-three cents!"

Jarrod threw another dollar at him. "Keep the change!"

"Thank you. I think I will," he grinned, standing up to slide his winnings into his pocket. He left his brother to put away the pieces.

"Audra? Would you care for a game?" Jarrod asked me.

I looked at him and chewed the inside of my cheek, considering. "For what stakes?"

"You're not serious, are you?" Jarrod inquired, taken aback. It would not be gentlemanly to bet with a woman.

"Of course not. I wouldn't dream of taking your money."

The boy didn't have a prayer. He was pretty good, but I am damn good. I had not been state high school champion three years running for nothing. Unlike Nick, however, I did not protest when he chose to resign rather than finish out a doomed game. After all, I am not the sort of person to rub one's nose in defeat.

"I must be tireder than I thought," Jarrod said by way of excuse. "Although I must say you're full of surprises today. First you're making political projections at the breakfast table, then conquering mathematical obscurities, and now it turns out you're a reasonably decent chess player. What next?"

Reasonably decent indeed! "Next? Why, I will do my happy dance, and I will gloat!" And I did. I shook my hips to the left and my hands to the right, did a little pirouette then reversed the polarity. Hips to the right, hands to the left then a little shimmy down the middle. The boys glanced sideways at each other, and looked at me as if they were about to go fetch those men in the white jackets as I sang, "I beat you, nyah, nyah. Damn, I'm good!"

Nick sidled over to his brother. "Just how much of that sherry did you give her, Jarrod?" The elder just shook his head.

I remembered doing my happy dance when after two years of being second best at everything I finally beat Rebeccah at chess. She never played me again. "You loooose! I Wiiiiiin! Come pay homage to the queeeeen!" I can't imagine why. I finished up with a flourish, feeling just a little bit dizzy.

Jarrod excused himself to go upstairs to bed. He paused halfway up. "Oh Audra," he called over the railing. "At the risk of over-inflating your head, I thought you might like to know. I got a telegram from Jeffreys this afternoon. He hadn't spent five minutes in Marysville before he reached the same conclusion as you and Heath."

"He did?" I was baffled.

"Yes, so you needn't have worried after all."

My left shoulder started to throb, and I was feeling dizzy.

"You mean you all would have decided against the merger even aside from Heath's and my objections?" I asked.

"Well, I can't yet speak for Jarvis, Emerson and Harris, but yes. I believe so. Aside from us, and Walker, Alec Jeffreys is the largest claim holder in that immediate area, and if he's not up for it the whole deal's off. Besides, I know Jeffreys and trust his judgment. Not that I don't trust yours and Heath's, but now that I have his eyewitness evaluation to go with your sentiments I'm a lot more willing to just let it go. Now, if you don't mind I have an early train tomorrow." With that he started to walk up the rest of the stairs.

"Wait!" I started after him, still a bit wobbly from my pirouettes and bumped into a small table, nearly knocking it over. A small black lacquer box flew off, and I just managed to catch it before it hit the hard floor. The lid popped open in my hand and it started to play that soft tinkling tune I had grown to hate. I quickly shut it, but something must have happened to the catch, because the music kept playing. I tried tapping on its side and shaking it to get it to stop, but it just wouldn't.

"Careful, you don't want to break that," Nick warned. "I think you must have jammed the mechanism. Just leave it. It will eventually run down." I did not want to let it run down. I did not want to hear it at all. I just wanted to throw the damn thing against the wall and smash it to pieces, but even if I did, I had the feeling that tune would still be tinkling away in my mind. Bother it all! Just when I thought the pieces were falling together I found I really had no idea what was going on. If Jarrod and the others were going to decide against hydraulic expansion anyway, then nothing had changed. But why, then, would the local farmers and ranchers choose to sabotage the Barkley mine? Unless they didn't know that was their decision. Or it wasn't they who were responsible. At any rate, I absolutely could not let Jarrod go to Marysville.

"What is it Audra?"

"What was it Jeffreys said?"

"About the same as you. Aside from the pure destruction Walker's outfit and others like it were causing, he saw the effect the flooding has been having and figured it was only a matter of time before the government decides to stop allowing the mines to dump the tailings into the navigable rivers, if they don't outlaw hydraulicking altogether."

"And what does Bud Walker have to lose if the deal doesn't go through?"

Jarrod reflected. "No more than the rest of us really, in the short run, that is. Of course Walker's set up has him dumping directly into the Yuba, and the way he's positioned there isn't any other place he can send it. I suppose in time he may well have to bail out of that sight altogether and try to scrounge up mineral rights someplace more tenable." He assumed a thoughtful expression.

Nick scowled. "Jarvis' claim is by Badger Creek, isn't it? And we've--"

"Yes, we've got that stream, and don't think Bud doesn't know it."

"So he may have been something less than altruistic in suggesting this merger?" I asked.

"Altruistic is not a word I would generally apply to Bud Walker, Audra. He's a businessman first and foremost."

"Then he wouldn't have been planning to offer all parties involved an equal share in the operation either," Nick concluded.

"Hardly. Since he has the largest claim, is already under full production, and has major access to the river--"

"Which could all end up useless. Say no more. I get the picture. You think Walker's trying to play us all for suckers."

"Not entirely. Even with his terms we would doubtless realize more profit, as would the others."

"Couldn't we do that without him?"

"We could, but I don't think the others could afford the cost of refitting on their own. And Emerson and Harris' claims aren't big enough to merit it on their own."

"And we're stuck right between the two of them," Nick observed

"Precisely."

The music slowed to a stop.

I looked at the box and then back at Jarrod. "How far do you think Walker would go to insure the deal did go through?" I asked.

"I imagine he will use every means at his disposal," Jarrod surmised. "But have no fear, Miss. I'm not likely to change my mind merely on his say so. Now, if you'll excuse me..." With that he tripped up the remaining stairs and turned into his room.

I gently set the exhausted lacquer box back on the table then bounded up after him, nearly knocking Nick down in the process. I knocked on his door, and after a "Just a moment," he opened it. He had already removed his vest and his cuffs hung open. His shirt was partially unbuttoned. "What is it, Audra? You didn't come up here to do another 'happy dance' did you?"

"Jarrod, if the deal is off, then there's really no reason for you to go, is there?"

" I think we can still put together something that will be to all the mine owners' mutual benefit. Besides, Harris is coming all the way from Michigan. I can't very well not show up." His eyebrows scrunched together. "Come on now, Princess. You're not still worried about that silly dream of yours?"

I shook my head. "It wasn't just a dream. It was real."

"I know it must have seemed very real to have disturbed you that much, but really--"

I pushed past him into the room and shut the door behind me. The room was still pretty much as I remembered it. There was a new mirror over the bureau, maybe a few more books on the shelf. I looked compulsively at the ceiling above the bed. It was still quite intact. But, was that a little crack in the plaster? "You can't go, Jarrod. Something terrible will happen. I know it will."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because it's already happened. Christ on a crutch, I saw the newspaper article! You and Harris and Jeffreys--all of you buried in the mine. Except Walker. At first I thought it was the farmers and ranchers up there. That's who they arrested. But now," I shook my head, "You said you figured he would use every means at his disposal. He's going to try to kill you all and blame it on the others."

The man's brow furrowed with concern. "Audra, calm down." He motioned toward the corner of the bed. "I think you'd better sit down and collect your thoughts. You're sounding very confused." That was very good advise, but I was in no mood to take advise.

"Just tell me you're not going," I insisted.

"I have to go, Sweetheart. I'm really touched by your concern for my well-being, but I promise you I'll be perfectly safe. Bud wouldn't stoop that low."

I squeezed my eyes shut and knotted my fists. "No you won't." I said through gritted teeth. Ignoring the twinge in my shoulder I raised my hand to rub my forehead with my knuckles.

"How's your head feeling, Audra?" his voice came out soft and worried.

"My head is fine. MY head is fine." I opened my eyes again and searched out his. Taking a deep breath I told him, "Jarrod, I'm not who you think I am."

He cocked his head slightly to the side and reached his hand up to my forehead. "You've been a bit off since your accident..."

"It wasn't an accident!" I interjected. Everything came flooding out. "I went through that window on purpose! You were about to leave, and I had to warn you, but the door was locked, and I'd lost Vicky's key."

"I think I'd better send for Dr. Merrar. Audra, you just sit there and I'll be right back." He started for the door, but I grabbed a hold of his arm and would not let go.

"I know I'm sounding crazy right now. Hell, I probably am crazy, but not like you think. I'm not Audra. I'm just--borrowing her for a while."

"Borrowing her."

I nodded. "I don't think she minds. I think she knows I wanted to help, and we seem to share some kind of strange bond. Did you know her quilts are almost exactly like my my logic diagrams? Freaky." Silly me, of course knew that. Heck, he had mentioned it himself. And I had thought he was just being obtuse. But babbling on like this was not furthering my cause. "I've been watching you for some time now, all of you. I didn't mean to pry or anything, but Vicky asked me to help her out with the house, and well, there you were."

"What house are you referring to? And who is Vicky?" he asked. I could tell he didn't believe me, but he did seem curious as to the nature of what he considered to be his sister's delusions.

"This house. It was filthy and in disrepair, and I had nothing better to do. I needed a break from my work at the university. Vicky was a good friend of mine. I owe her my life and then some. She--she was Audra's granddaughter."

"Your granddaughter?"

"No, Audra's. I'm just a friend of the family."

"So you believe you're from the future," he stated, frowning and rubbing his temple.

"Or you're from the past. Its all in how you look at things."

"And you've been watching everything we do."He was humoring me, trying to gauge the degree of my dementia.

"Not everything. Just selected bits starting from when the house was built up till a couple nights ago.

"And you saw something that makes you think I'm in danger?"

"A newspaper article in a museum. About riots in Marysville after a cave in at the Cerres de la Cruz mine. You think I'm out of my gourd, don't you?"

"No," he lied, shaking his head. "I just think you're very worried and will say practically anything to change my mind."

"Well, you're right about that."

"Tell me, Audra. If it has already happened, what makes you think anything you say or do can change it?"

"I don't know," I confessed, "but I can't think of any other reason why I should be here. And I told you, I'm not Audra. My name is Mary Rebeccah, and I'm a graduate student in mathematics at Cal State in Sacramento."

"There is no such institution."

"Not yet there isn't. Just wait another fifty years or so." I explained.

"Is that when you come from? Fifty years from now?"

"Closer to a hundred and twenty."

He raised his eyebrows. "One hundred and twenty! Now that is impressive. Just what is the world like one hundred and twenty years from now? I suppose all the young ladies are studying upper level mathematics?"

"Crowded, and no. Its still a rather male dominated field, but that's not the point. What do I have to say to make you believe me?" I asked. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I believe that you believe it is true."

"There are things I've seen that Audra would have no way of knowing," I said after a while. "I remember watching you dance with her after at that party following her Christening. She would have been much too young to remember that."

"Come on, Audra. I'm sure Mother has mentioned that a thousand times."

"And how you lied to your uncle, what's-his-name, about driving the buggy."

"I don't remember anything of the sort."

"Your mother called it being tactful."

I had a sudden inspiration. I reached inside Audra's shirt and withdrew the cross Jason had made for me. "Does this look familiar to you, Jarrod?" I asked.

"Of course it does, Audra. I'm the one that gave it to you. Silas had found it in the dumbwaiter. He saw the initials on the back and thought it was mine."

"But it wasn't," I said. "It was mine. I lost it there that night when Audra screamed."

"Which night when Audra (ahem) you screamed?"

"When she was trying on that dress with all the silly doodads and frufrus. She saw me in the mirror making faces at her."

"Oh, that was you was it," he said skeptically.

"Yes!" I said exultantly. "She scared the hell out of me. I had no idea she would be able to see me. Nobody else could. It must have been the mirror. Anyway, when I heard the cavalry coming up the stairs I ran and hid in the dumbwaiter. I was stuck there half the night. The cross must have slipped off when I squeezed out. When I came back to look for it it was gone. You have no idea how glad I was to finally get it back," I said giving it a squeeze. "I don't feel complete without it. Hell, if you got a good look at the cord it used to be on you'd know it. It was so grotty and wound with my hair I'm surprised Audra was willing to even touch it. Its no wonder she replaced it with the chain."

A startled expression momentarily crossed his face. "I gave you the chain with the cross."

"See?" I said, "I missed that part. I'm sure I missed a lot of other things. Its hard to compress twenty years into three months. I remember when Heath came here, though. Confused the hell out of me. At first I thought it was your dad standing there with that broken bottle. He looked an awful lot like him when you all were little. Certainly more than either you or Nick do. I couldn't believe you didn't see the resemblance right off. But then I realized I'd seen him a lot more recently than you have." I smiled wryly.

"Audra, really I do not find this at all amusing."

"I'm not trying to be amusing," I insisted. "What do I have to say to prove to you what I'm saying is true?"

"There isn't anything you can say. You haven't told me anything that you haven't either seen yourself or could have found out from someone else."

"What if I told you something Audra couldn't possibly know. Would you believe me then?"

Jarrod merely sighed heavily and took me by the shoulders steering me toward the mirror. "Look up, and tell me what you see," he said.

"I see Audra Barkley," I replied.

"So do I, and not all your pleas to the contrary or uncharacteristic vulgarity you seem to insist on employing can convince me otherwise."

I did see Audra in the glass. I always did here, but I saw something else as well. I saw glass shattering into a bazillion pieces on the floor and a revolver lying amid the debris.

"A little pain is not a bad thing," the old woman had told me. "It helps you know you're still alive." There was one thing I was certain only he and I knew about. I studied Jarrod's face in the mirror and remembered how cold and dead those eyes had looked that day as he sat on the edge of the bed. The word pain is insufficient to describe what feelings must have accompanied that blank stare. There are moments from the two days after Jay's death that I would not thank anyone to refresh my memory of for any reason whatsoever. Perhaps my friend could have brought herself to remind him of how he had brought the gun to his temple and held it there for a brief eternity. But I was not Vicky.

"Strong you winds come carry me," I opened my eyes as I began reciting.

"Far from my pain and misery To a place that I can see The meaning of my destiny."

Jarrod looked uncomfortable, and I could feel a slight change in pressure of his hands on my shoulders. "Audra what are you talking about?" he asked.

"Does that sound familiar?" I intoned with a hint of a smirk.

"Vaguely," he eyed me suspiciously. "Is that supposed to have some significance?"

"Nick's twelfth birthday," I replied coyly.

"What about it?"

"He had a bunch of his buddies over and was bragging and otherwise behaving like a perfect ass. Claiming how unlike some people he was man enough and skilled enough to break the new colt your daddy bought him all by himself. You'd had it up to here with him and disappeared upstairs to read. When you came back down at cake cutting time you were holding up that ratty old blankie of his. The one he used to keep tucked under his pillow? You said something like, 'Oh, Nick! You wouldn't want to leave Booboo out of the celebration, would you?' Do you remember that?"

"Yes," he said tolerantly, turning slightly pink at the ears. "You would have been six then."

"And no one in this house has spoken of it since?"

"Not that I know, but I'm sure you were quite capable of remembering that yourself." He simultaneously closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows in that 'do not insult my intelligence' look.

"You know, you look just like my sister when you do that. She's a lawyer, too." He opened his eyes again and blinked the expression off his face.

"And tell, me, do you remember, too, how he tackled you to the ground and it took your father and two hands to pry him off before he could strangle you, and instead of telling Nick off your mother sent you upstairs for the rest of the day?"

"Ye-ess."

"And how you thought you were being treated horribly unfair and opened that little journal of yours and started scribbling away?" I continued my recitation:

"The unjust come at me in anger I am to all the world a stranger I only seek truth to reveal That bold Achilles hath a heel."

The blood drained from the face of the humiliated would be poet.

"Don't quit your day job," I advised. Actually, it wasn't as bad as some of the other beauties he'd written. He was a much better orator than composer of verse.

"I burned that." He said flatly. For the first time those blue eyes appeared to cloud over with a hint of uncertainty.

"Yes, you did." I gestured with my right thumb at the cool fire place. "Tore it out of the book and tossed it into the flames, right along with Booboo. What did Nick say when you didn't give it back?"

The man slowly lifted his hands from my shoulders and let them hover. "He never asked for it. I'd already had it in my drawer for over six months. He was finished with it."

"Jarrod, when has Audra ever even come close to beating you at chess?" I turned around to face him while he backed away toward the foot of the bed. His knees bent as the back of his legs met the mattress, and he sat down. I wouldn't say he looked convinced, but a shadow of a doubt had been planted in his mind, and it made him uncomfortable indeed.

"Look," I said. "Suppose I am just off my nut. You admit Walker could have a lot to lose in the long run from the deal not going through. He's a shrewd business man and has an army's worth of men loyal to him and his money. Do me a favor: humor a crazy lady, and watch your back carefully. Can you do that much for me?"

He nodded slowly. "I can do that."

Outside I heard the sound of a horse and buggy approaching. I went over to Jarrod's open window and peeked out. In the light of the full moon I saw Heath climb down and walk around the buggy to where a woman in light colored clothing was seated. He offered her his hand which she accepted, and with his assistance she stepped down. The blond man removed his hat, and having let go her arm, placed his right hand at the small of her back and escorted her toward the door. "My, my, my," I said quietly to myself as the two disappeared onto the porch below us.

"What is it?" Jarrod stood up from the bed.

"It appears your little brother is back, and he has Eloise with him. At the risk of being vulgar again, I would say the shit is about to hit the fan."

"YOU DID WHAT??!!" Even through the closed door and down a flight of stairs the words were quite clear.

Jarrod turned an accusing eye toward me. "Why do I have the feeling you have something to do with this?"

"Moi?"

"Come on!" He took a hold of my left arm and pulled me toward the door.

"Ouch! That hurts!" I was regretting not having put the sling back on.

"If those two kill each other, I'm holding you personally responsible, Audra or whoever you are." Into the hallway and down the stairs we went, Jarrod in the lead pulling me behind him. My shoulder was not happy.

"You've got one helluva nerve, Boy. Just what made you think you had that right?"

A true gentleman, Heath did not even look in my direction.

"Nicky, please!" Nicky? Oh barf. Eloise had placed herself protectively in front of the light haired man.

"How could you, Ellie? You let a man abandon you like that and just welcome him back with open arms?" Nick swung his arm outward in a broad sweeping motion.

"He never abandoned me, Nick. I'm sorry for leading you to believe that. I was just so upset, I didn't know what I was doing. I felt abandoned, but really it wasn't his fault. I asked him to leave."

Nick shook his head, a look of betrayal plastered clearly across his face. "I can't believe it. I thought we meant something to each other, El"

"Nick--" Heath started.

"YOU!!" In a low, gravelly voice the black haired berserker spat the word like venom through clenched teeth. "Get outta my sight!" He expelled each word, individually punctuating each syllable in barely contained rage. He turned back toward the light haired woman, his eyebrows knit together painfully in a thick curved black line, and he could barely find the breath to speak. "I wanna know how you could go on makin' me believe you felt something for me when all the time..." He held his large hands out as if he meant to grab her by the shoulders, but kept them inches from her actual body clenching his fingers in a violence he would never allow himself to visit upon the actual woman. Her eyes were wide open in terror at the full force of his fury.

"She said no, Nick."

There was a long moment of silence during which the dark man's whole body froze as Heath's words sank in.

Nick blinked once. Then twice in rapid succession, and the muscles in his face slowly began to relax as the realization spread through his body, until finally it creeped through his limbs to his still rigid hands. He looked at those instruments in shame and consciously flexed his fingers, forcing them out of their tortured contortion. He brought them closer to the woman, as if to touch her, but pulled them away again, as if realizing they were still too filled with tension to be worthy tools of affection. The right one he rubbed against the outside of his thigh, and the left he raised to his forehead and drew backward through his hair to the back of his neck.

"Ellie, I--I'm sorry," he apologized, and his limbs again became his allies. He laid gentle hands upon her shoulders, and drew her close in an embrace.

"It's all right, Nick," she answered quietly, her voice trembling. The two held each other for a while, as Heath stood fidgeting uncomfortably. Nick looked up over his girl's shoulder at him and his eyes regained a good measure of their anger. Lightly he pulled himself back from her, then nudged her possessively to the side and behind him. He stepped meaningfully toward the younger man.

"I oughta break your neck, Boy," he said hoarsely.

"But he didn't--" the woman began, reaching for his arm, but Nick yanked it away.

"This is between me and my so-called brother."

"Nick, for God's sake!" Jarrod called out. "Let it go."

"Oh no!" he shook his head slowly.

"Heath?" the eldest turned to the blond cowboy.

Heath's eyes were two slivers of blue ice. He looked equally willing to rip the other brother apart. In a cool controlled voice he addressed his hazel eyed foe. "I think we'd better take this outside."

"That's fine with me."

The two wasted no time in heading for the door, Nick brushing forcefully past Jarrod and myself, ignoring the eldest brother's protests, and Heath following close on his heels. Jarrod started after them, still pulling on my arm, but I would not budge. He turned around and regarded me furiously.

"Well, come on, Missy. You see what you started? Come see where it all ends up!"

"I did not start this," I protested. Jarrod continued to pull at my sore arm.

"I can't!" I cried out softly. "I can't leave the house. If I do, I'll go back to my own time, and I'm not ready to do that."

"Don't you think you've done enough damage yet?" he asked me.

I turned to look directly at Miss Tanner, who had not moved from the spot where Nick had set her, and shuddered. "Not yet."

"You wanna stand still, boy so I can hit you?" the dark haired cowboy called out.

"You've been achin' to take a swing at me for the past two months, ain't you Nick? Well that's just fine with me, you go ahead and do that. But don't think I'm gonna just stand here and make it easy for you. You wanna make that fist land you're gonna have to work for it."

"You wanted to come out here just as much as I did. You could at least pretend to be a man and try to hit back."

"What fer, Nick? What's it gonna get me?"

"Suit yourself," Nick replied. He feigned with his left hand, then caught Heath in the jaw with the right. The younger man abandoned his stoic stance and struck back. In a moment the two of them were rolling together in the dirt.

Jarrod looked back at me somewhat apologetically. "I suppose you're right," he sighed with what appeared to be a combination of disgust and relief. "It's not your fault. This has been a long time coming." He glimpsed quickly over at the trembling young woman in the living room, but didn't say a word to her. He let go of my arm and looked back at the two grown men tumbling over each other like schoolboys. "You might want to check the ice box to see if Silas has any of those beefsteaks waiting for breakfast tomorrow. Five will get you ten they'll both be sporting black eyes by the time they've worn themselves out."

As he closed the front door, Eloise crept into the foyer. "Will they be all right?" she asked me timidly.

"I don't think they'll kill each other if that's what you mean. They may be pissed off, but deep down they love each other very much."

"Yes, I know. Heath and I had a long talk after he asked me to marry him. You know, he wasn't so much mad at me for choosing Nick over him as he was concerned that I wasn't making a thoughtful choice. He was afraid for his brother. Afraid that I was only interested in him because I didn't have anyone else to look after me. I must admit, deep down I was wondering that myself. I certainly hadn't meant to fall in love with Nick. But he was just so sweet and caring, and I was so alone."

"You weren't alone. You had Heath."

"No I didn't. Not any more. I-I sent him away."

"And how long do you really think he would have stayed away? That's not the way this family works, Ellie. The Barkleys stick by those they love whether or not you want them to. You don't just throw people away because they don't happen to express their affection in exactly the way you want them to!" I was furious at the girl. "And they don't go blithely stepping on each others toes if they can help it either. Nick came to you because he felt an obligation to mend a wrong you had convinced him Heath had committed. Otherwise he would have never, never intruded on his territory."

"I really am very sorry," she said. "I know that its a terrible thing to come between two brothers."

"Yes it is," I agreed.

The girl shuddered. "He was so angry. For a moment there he looked like he hated me. I do love him, though."

"Do you? Do you really? Or are you just still scared and alone?"

"You have no right to talk to me about being scared and alone. When your father was killed you had your mother and brothers to look after you. You don't know what it's like to be so weak and vulnerable. Nick was there for me in a way that I needed him to be."

"What about what Nick needs? What if those two never spoke to each other again over this? Could you live with that? Down in his heart, Nick would resent you for it, and you know it. Could you face him every day knowing that he had amputated part of his own soul for you? A man can't live without his soul. He merely plods on day after day. Who cares, though, right? At least you'd have someone to take care of you until you decide you don't want to live with a dead man anymore."

Eloise's jaw trembled as she fought to hold back the tears. She opened her mouth as if to protest, but no words issued forth.

"If you hold any aspirations of becoming a part of this family, you'd better think long and hard about that. We Barkleys look after each other, and if you do anything else to hurt either of my brothers I will devote the rest of my life to making sure you regret it." With that I haughtily flipped back Audra's long blond hair and walked off ask Silas about those steaks.

By the time the boys stumbled back into the house supporting each other's weight, they each had a fat lip and a good deal of swelling around the eyes. They were still bickering, but the venom had left their argument. Both were wet and very dirty. If Victoria had been there I'm certain she would have headed them off before they came anywhere near the velvet upholstery.

"If Jarrod hadn't a pulled me offa you at the trough, you'd be singing with the angels by now, little brother," Nick muttered.

"In your dreams, Nick. I was goin' easy on ya."

"You just keep telling yourself that. You want a whiskey to deaden the pain?" he asked limping over toward the sherry cart.

"I'll get it. You oughta go easy on that leg."

"There's nothing wrong with my leg, boy. Anyway, I'm in a good bit better shape than you are. You rest your sorry bones. I'll pour."

They went through a few rounds of one-upsmanship before Jarrod finally got them each a drink. It wasn't until Nick had taken his first sip before he thought to ask where Eloise was.

"Silas and I settled her into one of the guest rooms," I replied. "She was very tired and wasn't feeling very well." Nick started to painfully rouse himself from the sofa, but I stopped him. "I don't think she wants to be disturbed right now, Nick. You can talk to her in the morning."

Nick acquiesced. He wasn't fit to be seen, and would have had some difficulty getting up the stairs by himself anyway. "Thanks for taking care of her, Audra," he said.

"My pleasure."

Jarrod announced that it was his intention to FINALLY go to bed. He had no intention of missing his morning train, and wanted to get as much sleep as possible. It sounded like a good idea to me, too, and I trundled up after him, leaving the other two to revel in their alcohol and testosterone.

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! I was jolted awake by loud knocking at the door. "C'mon, Audra! Get up!" a low voice bellowed through the door. The room was still rather dark, and only the hint of predawn filtered through the curtains.

"Go away!" I yelled back at him. "I'm still sleeping!"

The door burst open and Nick strode right in. At first I thought Eloise had ratted on me for telling her off, and I was going to be the next one to face the wrath of the very protective young man, but while the expression on his bruised and scabbed face was urgent, he didn't appear hostile. Nonetheless I was quite taken aback and pulled the covers up to my neck.

"Just what do you think you're doing in here, Nick Barkley?!" I demanded.

"Getting you out of bed," he answered. "You've been hiding yourself in this house long enough. You're coming with us to the train station whether you like it or not." He opened up Audra's wardrobe and grabbed a dress at random and tossed it on the bed. "Here!" he said, "We're in a hurry, and I have no intention of waiting two hours while you pick out something to wear."

"What do you mean 'we'?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"Heath and I were going over what we discussed about the mine deal last night, and we've decided to go with Jarrod. Our fine gentleman brother might not see any cause for worry, but I don't trust that Bud Walker any farther than I can throw him."

"I'm not going to Marysville with you," I protested.

"Never said you were, but you're gonna see us off at the station then go lend Mother a hand at the Hanson's. The doc'll be by there anyway, so you can get those stitches out while you're at it." He stood there with hands on his hips, looking at me still huddled under the blanket. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

"For you to leave!"

He rolled his eyes then turned to go. "It's not like I've never seen you in your nightgown before." Before I could answer he held up a halting hand. "Yeah, yeah, just get dressed, OK?" The door clicked shut behind him.

I shook myself awake. Go out? Could I do that? Nick was right, of course. I couldn't stay in the house for ever, but the thought of leaving was very scary indeed. Would this world still exist for me once I went out the door? And if not, what sort of world would I return to? I rejoiced to no end that Nick and Heath had decided to band together to watch after Jarrod. Nick was just suspicious enough that I was sure he would be on the lookout for traps, and that combined with the wariness I had implanted in the elder brother he and the other mine owners just might come out of the situation alive. What would happen with Eloise I had no idea, but it was apparent the younger two brothers were at least on speaking terms again. The future was entirely uncertain, and once they left the house it would be totally out of my hands.

Perhaps it was time to go. Much as I had enjoyed being a Barkley for a few days, this was Audra's life, not mine. I had my own family out there somewhere which I had neglected for far too long. There was so much I wanted to say to my mother, apart from warning her about Dad's threats to turn her over to the Postmaster General. And oddly enough, I really, really wanted to see Rebeccah. Something about all the time I spent with Jarrod had made me homesick for her. I had a lot of forgiving to do, and a lot of apologizing as well.

Not to mention I had a thesis to write. A stack of elegant perfumed papers lay on Audra's desk just waiting to be expounded upon, debated and defended. Yes, now was the time to go. If I waited any longer it would only make it harder. I looked down at the light blue dress on the bedspread, and mourned Nick's choice. It would definitely require I don a corset. Oh hell.

I dressed in what must have been record time for Audra, though it took me a while to figure out that one was meant to wear the slip under the corset, and those buttons up the back of the dress were a bitch. By the blonde's standards it was a rather simple frock, but with all the frufrus and elaborate undergarments it felt more like a wedding dress to me. I would have been much more comfortable in the blouse and skirt from the day before, but Silas had already spirited them away to be laundered, and Audra wouldn't be caught wearing the same thing two days in a row anyway. I also took a moment to examine the girl's forehead in the mirror. The cut was healing quite nicely with no sign of infection. I decided not to wear any sort of bandage, but allowed a lock of long blond hair to dip slightly over it so that only a hint of scar showed. It did seem to add a bit of character to her otherwise boringly perfect features.

I was so nervous, not to mention constricted, at breakfast I couldn't manage anything more than a piece of toast and a few sips of Silas's highly adulterated coffee. I noticed I wasn't the only one having difficulty eating. Eloise merely pushed the food around her plate. She was very quiet, and did not dare meet my eye when I looked in her direction. She, it appeared, would be accompanying us into town. It was going to be a long ride.

With the morning meal completed, Jarrod, Nick and Heath set about loading their luggage onto the large buggy. Finally Jarrod announced that everything was ready to go. I gathered my papers together, explaining that I meant to show Jillie some plans for a quilt for the baby and walked nervously toward the door. I had no idea what would be waiting for me on the other side of the door, but I knew whatever it was I had to face it with all the courage I could muster.

"You look just fine, Audra," Heath said, noticing my anxiety. "Nobody'll notice the scar one little bit."

"After you, My Dear!" Jarrod said opening the door for me, but I couldn't exit. Right in the doorway poised to knock stood Sheriff Madden.

"Why Fred!" exclaimed the eldest brother. "We're just on our way out. What brings you here?"

The expression on the lawman's face was humbled and apologetic. "Actually, I'm here to see Audra," he said. "Last night the deputy found something that might be of interest to her."

"What is it, Sheriff?" I asked completely baffled. He gestured behind him. I looked out and saw a very large dark mare with studded black saddlebags. I didn't even need to look at the ridiculous brand on her right flank to recognize her.

"It's BETTY!!!" I squealed, and ran out the door throwing my arms open wide.

My mind burst open, and in flooded a torrent of memories, some entirely new to me, some slightly different iterations of the old. I was overwhelmed and overjoyed.It was HIM!

"Jason Tanner Barkley! As I live and breathe!" The man scowled and drew his head back. "Sorry, Troyer not Tanner. What was I thinking?" A slight variation in the construction of the quilt, but looking him up and down I could see no difference in the edges. My Jay. He continued to eye me suspiciously.

"Hang on there, Ree! You don't intend to bring THAT with, do you?" he indicated the document bag slung over my shoulder.

"You have no idea what went into writing these notes, Jay. I don't want to lose them."

"You are NOT working on your dissertation on our honeymoon!"

"Wouldn't dream of it. That's just the sort of thing that got Mom into trouble. I'll tell you what though--you put your goddamn helmet on, and I'll leave all this at home." He grimaced at the idea, but reached back and retrieved two matching helmets from the saddle bags. He tossed one to me and donned the other himself. I threw the bag aside and gleefully mounted behind him, making sure the long skirt was tucked well out of the way of the spokes. We waved at the assembled guests and headed off.

Mom and Dad behaved themselves admirably well. They had greeted each other reasonably cordially, allowed themselves to be photographed together for the in-laws picture, and then stayed out of each other's way. It was Mom's idea to have everyone wear name tags with the letters J, N or H circled in the corner to indicate which branch of the family everyone was from. Unfortunately there were no A's. Vicky had been Audra and J.W. Chadwick's only grandchild, and she had never married.

Barkleys and their kin from all over creation had attended the wedding and reception, many that Jay and I had never met or heard of before, and truth to tell hadn't thought to invite, like Brad and Susan who had come all the way from Bali and whose badges boasted little J's. They had all been in town for the funeral. We had nearly put the wedding off after the sudden death of Jason's favorite cousin, but I knew she would not have wanted that, and I was comforted by the fact that the elderly woman had gone the way she wanted to: painlessly and surrounded by the family that loved her.

I hugged Jason tightly around the waist and squeezed with all my might just to make sure he was real, then took a final look and watched the well maintained pre-Civil War mansion disappear behind us. The white pillars gleamed in the bright afternoon sun, barely controlled ivy climbed along the sides of the building, and the rose bushes were in full bloom. I closed my eyes and gripped tighter still. "Thank you," I said beneath my breath, and I could have sworn I heard an answer back: "Thank you."

Epilogue

A sixty year old woman sat working diligently on yet another quilt. The closets were literally packed with her colorful creations, many of which had won blue ribbons over years of state fairs. She no longer felt that all consuming drive to perfect that one curious design, but every now and then she still felt the compulsion to create. There was a soft knocking at the bedroom door, and she looked up to see her black haired granddaughter waiting patiently. She appeared to be hiding something behind her back. "Well, hello there Vicky, what have you got there?"

The tiny girl ran over to her grandmother and produced a little black box.

"Where did you find this?" the woman asked incredulously.

"It was in a little hole in the fireplace in my room," she chimed. "Daddy said I should show it to you."

"The fireplace?" she puzzled over that for a moment and then opened her eyes wide in recollection. "My word, I do remember putting it there, though I can't imagine why. This little box was very dear to your great-grandmother and she was very sad when it disappeared. My father gave it to her on the occasion of your great-uncle Jarrod's birth. It's a music box. Come here, and I'll show you."

Audra put her sewing aside and little Vicky climbed up into her lap. The grandmother opened the box and the air was filled with a pleasant tinkling melody that made the woman smile. The girl liked the music, too, but was more intrigued by the glittering article inside the box. It was a silver crucifix of a very unusual design. The cross appeared to be twisted around a little bit of gold wire meant to represent the Christ. "What's this?" she asked curiously.

Audra set down the box and picked up the golden chain. She laid the pendant across the palm of her hand." Something very special," she replied. "This belonged to the family ghost."

"A ghost?" Vicky was simultaneously intrigued and frightened. "Is our house haunted, Grandma?"

"I don't know if I would call it haunted really, but yes we have a ghost." Noticing her granddaughter's anxious look she went on, "But she's a very nice ghost. When I was a little girl I used to be able to see her just out of the corner of my eye. I always felt as if I were being watched. Then when I grew up she would just pop up at the oddest times."

"What did she do? Did she walk around rattling chains like Jacob Marley and groan and do things like that?"

"No," the woman furrowed her brow. "Mostly she just cleaned house. She's a very odd sort of ghost."

"Do you still see her?" Vicky asked.

"Sometimes I do. She likes to show up at family gatherings. You just watch tonight when your cousins get here. You'll see her best out of the corner of your eye or reflected in something. She has short brown hair and will probably be wearing trousers. If you see her, try waving at her. I'm sure she'll be thrilled."

The little girl seemed tickled by the notion. "Do you think she'd talk to me?"

"She might," Audra conceded. "And sometime when you find yourself doing something really ridiculous and you have no idea why, like sliding down the banister for instance, it just might be her prompting you on." She took the chain and placed it around the little girls neck. "I think you should keep this, Vicky," she said, "as a thank you for finding my mother's box. Who knows, maybe it will help you to see the family ghost better. Now how about we head on downstairs--I'm sure lunch is nearly ready."

The two left the room together. They started down the stairs and were nearly bowled over by a tall graying man bounding up. He gave them an enormous hug, and it took Audra a moment to catch her breath. "Nick! When did you get here? Where are Jenny and the boys?"

"Danny and Jack are outside unloading, and Jenny decided to wait and make the trip with Heath and his brood.

Audra smirked, "Are you sure you trust him with your girl?"

"Absolutely. Besides, Jan will give him hell if he tries to get fresh with her cousin. Where's that husband of yours?"

"Down in the library. He's working on a new composition for Lydia to play on that cello you bought her for her birthday."

Nick shook his head ruefully. "Looks like you got yourself a whole family full of 'artists'." He smiled down at Vicky. "At least your Pa has a little more sense than his little sister. You'll make sure some of that rubs off on you won't you Missy? I'd hate to have you grow up more Chadwick than Barkley."

"Don't be ridiculous, Nicholas. You're as fond of Jason as anybody, and you never know--one of your offspring might pop up with artistic tendencies himself."

"Oh no," he replied. "Not in a hundred years!!"