It was the middle of February and the wedding was less than two weeks away. Victoria, Audra and Silas spent the better part of each day with seemingly endless details while the three brothers made themselves scarce as the big day approached, lest they be asked to help. The house was in chaos most days and Jarrod spent more time at his office than normal. Nick and Heath rode out at sunrise and when they returned at noon, Heath started taking his naps in the bunkhouse and Nick hid out in the library, locking the door securely behind him against any unwanted intruders.

The place was being over run with their mother and Audra's women friends. They had come to help out with making dresses, decorating and planning a menu, but to the Barkley brothers, it seemed like all they did was talk non-stop, the younger ones giggling and batting their eyes everytime one of the brothers ventured into the house and the older ones clearly not having much use for men around the place at all. Nick had stormed out of the house one day, slamming the door as he went, when old Mrs. Mason, on her way down the stairs, had cast him an evil eye, looked down her nose at him as he crossed the foyer, and demanded to know why he couldn't take his spurs off when he came in the house. She had then turned her attention to Heath as he removed his dusty hat and went to lay it on the foyer table. Her disapproving frown had him picking it up with a sigh and following his brother out the door to eat lunch in the bunkhouse with the men.

They somehow managed to steer clear of all the fuss for the most part and silently congratulated themselves on getting through the preparations relatively unscathed. A few days before the wedding though, Victoria cornered her two youngest sons as they snuck in the back door intent on raiding the ice-box. Silas had gone to the Andersons on an errand and wouldn't be back in time to make them anything for lunch so they intended to slip in, grab what they could and slide out again before one of the women could ask them to help with something. They removed their hats and gunbelts and laid them quietly on the table before tip-toeing over to the ice-box. Their eyes lit up and their stomachs growled when they opened the door. Two pairs of hands reached greedily for the platter of fried chicken, slab of roast beef and bowl of potato salad that resided within.

"There you are!"

They both jumped as their mother came through the kitchen door and stood there with her hands on her hips.They could tell by the look in her eye that she wanted something from them and had no doubt she was going to ask them to retrieve more decorations from the attic, get their opinion on flower arrangements, dresses or something else equally vile. They pushed the food back inside and started to back towards the door and their escape route. As they inched past the table, Nick snatched up his hat and gunbelt and handed Heath his then started pushing him towards the door.

"We gotta' go Mother."

His hand was just reaching for the nob when their mothers stern voice halted their progress. "Stop right there you two."

Nick dropped his hand and they both turned around slowly, shoulders slumped in resignation as she walked over to the buffet cabinet and started getting out half a dozen cups and saucers. The china was arranged on a silver tray before she looked up and almost laughed out loud. They looked like two scared little boys, shifting their weight from foot to foot in nervousness as they watched her warily.

"I want you boys to do me a favor." She placed the silver tea pot on the tray, "just let me finish getting this ready."

They looked at each other in horror before Nick threw his hat back on the table, waved a hand at the tea service and shouted. "WE ARE NOT GOING TO SERVE TEA TO THAT BUNCH OF NATTERING WOMEN!!"

"Nick! Lower your voice, they'll hear you."

"I DON'T CARE WHAT THEY..."

She cut him off in mid-sentence, "I'm not asking either of you to serve tea Nick." She put her hands on her hips and looked at them in exasperation.

"Oh, well then ..." He glanced at Heath who had breathed a sigh of relief.

"No, I want you to go into town this afternoon and pick up a parcel for me."

"We can't go into town Mother." The deep voice had taken on a distinctive whine. "Heath has to lay down for awhile and then we have to check some fence up at Sky Meadow. Why didn't ya get Jarrod to do it? He was goin' to town anyway."

She crossed her arms and looked at him sternly, "Jarrod is busy working on a case and doesn't have the time. Now, you can go after Heath has his nap and that fence can wait until tomorrow."

They knew better than to argue when she used that tone and Heath tugged on Nicks sleeve when it looked like he was thinking of arguing anyway. "Come on Nick," he eyed the tea service. "It could be worse."

"All right, but those women better be gone when we get back." Nick pulled his black gloves on with short, angry movements as he continued to grumble. "A man can't even get a meal in his own house anymore without bein' asked to do something."

Victoria got out a pencil and paper and Heath patted him on the back in sympathy then buckled on his gunbelt and bent over to tie the lace around his thigh, "stop fussin' Nick. The wedding's in a few days then after that, everything will settle down again." He straightened up as Nick planted his fists on his hips and his dark brows lowered in an angry scowl.

"Well it better, because I'm STARVIN'!!"

Victoria finished writing and handed him the note, "you boys can eat in the bunkhouse with the men. Now here's where you go to pick up the parcel."

Nick shoved the note in his coat pocket without looking at it and snatched his hat off the table with a grumble.

Victoria cocked her head at the sound of voices coming towards the kitchen and said, "that's Mrs. Mason and Gertrude." She glanced down at Nicks spurs with a worried frown and pushed her sons towards the door, "you boys better get going before they come in here."

Heath opened the door and steered his brother out with a firm hand on his back. He poked his head back in before he shut it, rolled his eyes and gave his mother a wink as a loud voice bellowed behind him.

"STARVIN' I TELL YA!!"

Nick groused all the way to Stockton, hands waving in the air, a deep frown etched on his handsome face as he loudly regaled Heath with his growing list of grievances. Heath watched him in amusement, a smile tugging at his mouth until Nick looked over at him quickly, hoping for once to catch him laughing, but with the ease of long practise, Heath had dropped the smile and his face was all seriousness as he nodded and commiserated with his brothers plight.

They rode into town mid-afternoon and pulled up in front of Annie's Saloon. Nick had run out of complaints shortly before they got to town and Heath more than welcomed the silence. As they dismounted and wrapped their reins around the hitching rail, he hooked his thumbs in his gunbelt and tilted his head at the saloon doors.

"How 'bout I buy ya a drink Nick? Ya must be parched after all that talkin'."

Nick gave him a dirty look and poked him in the chest, "if you would hold up your end of the conversation, I wouldn't have to talk so much." He shook his head in frustration, "Heath, gettin' somethin' outa' you really is like pullin' up stumps."

He strode over and pushed open the door to the saloon and Heath swaggered in after him, his blue eyes dancing and a broad smile lighting up his face as he answered amiably, "I didn't know we were having a conversation Nick, I thought you were just complaining and didn't need an answer. Ya shoulda' said somethin'."

The bantering continued as they crossed to the bar and leaned on it. "See, that's what's wrong with you Heath, ya don't know when you're havin' a conversation."

Harry came over wiping a glass with the apron tied around his ample girth and raised an eyebrow at them. "What'll it be boys?" The Irish brogue was in full force today and he could turn it on and off like a spigot.

Nick took off his hat and tossed it on the bar.

"Whiskey."

Harry put down the glass and started to pour as he glanced at Heath. "How ya feelin' Heath?"

Heath's hat joined Nicks on the bar and he nodded as Harry held the bottle over another shot glass. He reached inside his suede jacket, dug two bits out of the inner pocket and flicked the coin in the air. Harry deftly caught it and slid the glass of whiskey in front of Heath as he answered, "I'm fine Harry.

The bartender knew it was all the answer he would get for it wasn't Heath's way to complain about the hand he had been dealt, whether it be cards or life. He nodded and changed the subject. "So, how's the wedding preparations going? I hear tell it's gonna' be quite the do."

Nick growled, tossed back his whiskey, slammed down the glass and waved his hand to indicate he wanted a refill.

Harry looked at Heath and tilted his head at Nick, "what's the matter with him?"

Heath gave him a wink, "oh, he's been havin' some stomach troubles lately."

Harry looked at the dark haired cowboy with concern, "I'm sorry to hear that Nick. Any idea what's causing it?"

The hazel eyes glared at him, "yeah, THERE'S NEVER ANYTHING IN IT!"

Harry looked at Heath for an explanation and Heath looked at Nick. If he didn't think Nick would take a swing at him, he would have burst out laughing at his brother's exaggeration and the cranky look on his face.

He gave Harry a wink and said, "we've had a few of Mother and Audra's women friends over helping out with the planning." He shuddered in distaste, "the dressmakers have been there everyday for the last week too."

Nick grunted in displeasure and stared morosely into his empty glass.

Harry grimaced and poured him another drink as he looked at him with pity. "Don't tell me, Mrs. Mason and Gertrude?"

An inarticulate sound rose from Nick's throat and Heath patted him on the back and nodded, "yep, the old battle axe and her daughter." He took a bracing gulp of his drink, "those two sure are a might hard on the eye I tell ya. I swear they should be cross eyed the way they look down their noses at us when we come in."

Nick looked at Harry with raised eyebrows, "they seem to think we should come in after workin' all day, clean, pressed and bathed."

He clenched his teeth when Heath proceeded to mimic Mrs. Mason's strident tones, "I don't know why you two must come in this house covered in dirt and smelling," Heath looked down his nose in a faithful rendition of Mrs. Mason's pinched features, "like a barnyard."

"I don't know why Mother couldn't find someone else to make the dresses. I don't care if they are the best dress makers in town." Nick clutched his glass, "we can't even come in for lunch without them giving us a sour look. Supper's always late and we haven't had a decent meal in days."

Heath had to agree. By the time they got to the bunkhouse that afternoon, the men had already eaten and all that was left was a few spoonfuls of stew. His stomach grumbled in protest. They finished their drinks and put on their hats as they said goodbye to Harry and went out to stand on the sidewalk looking up and down the street. Heath put his hands on his hips and perused the shops up and down the sidewalk.

"Well? Where we supposed to pick up this package Nick?"

"Hang on a second, Mother gave me a note." Nick searched through his pockets until he found the crumpled piece of paper with directions on it. "It says," he smoothed it out a bit, " 'when you leave the saloon'."

He shot a look at Heath who shook his head and shrugged, their mother knew them too well.

Nick continued, "go past Wilson's Mercantile four shops and it's the one with the blue shutters on the windows."

"Never noticed it before, ya ever been there Nick?"

"Can't say as I have Heath." He tucked the note back in his pocket and slapped his brother on the back, "well, let's get goin'. This shouldn't take too long then maybe we can pry that fancy lawyer loose and go get a nice thick steak at The Cattleman's when we're done."

"Sounds like a plan big brother."

They made their way past Wilson's and stopped in front of the shop with the blue shutters where Nick put his fists on his hips and frowned at the sign in the window.

"I wondered why Mother didn't just give us the name of the place, now we know."

Heath shook his head, "I'm not goin' in there Nick."

Nick heaved a sigh and pointed at the door, "look Heath, we told Mother we'd pick up this package, now to do that we have to go in the shop to get it, understand?"

Heath backed up and crossed his arms, his stance radiating stubbornness as he said, "oh, I understand Nick. You go get it, I'll wait for ya here."

Nick leaned in until he was inches from his brother's face and growled, "if I have to go in there, then you're goin' in with me. Now get moving."

The look on Nick's face convinced him it would be prudent to give in, "all right, all right, I'll go. But I'm doing it under duress."

Nick grabbed a handful of suede jacket and pulled him to the door, "you've been reading too many of Jarrod's law books." He threw the door open and thrust his reluctant brother inside. "Now get in there."

Nick ran into Heath's back when he came to a sudden stop just inside the door. They both looked around warily. Three young women who had been trying on dresses looked over at them and started giggling, apparently they found the sight of these two big, strong, handsome cowboys in this dainty shop quite amusing.

The sign had said 'Madeline's Fashion Shop', and the brothers figured they were walking into a place that sold ladies dresses. Now to their minds, that would have been bad enough. Both had been dragged into women's dress shops by their mother or Audra a time or two to carry packages and they weren't comfortable around all the frills and lace. But this!! There were ladies unmentionables made up of skimpy little pieces of silk and satin scattered all over the room. No matter where they looked, their eyes were accosted by silk stockings, garters or frilly corsets.

Heath pulled his hat lower to try and cover the embarrassed flush he could feel creeping up his face as Nick prodded him in the back trying to get him to move. A more forceful shove sent him stumbling forward and he bumped into a mannequin that was set up in the middle of the shop. He reached out to right it before it could topple over, and the blush staining his cheeks turned deep red as he realized where his hands had grabbed the well endowed form. He let go as if scalded and more giggling ensued from the direction of the dress rack.

Nick came up beside him, glared and hissed out through clenched teeth, "would you stop that, yer embarrassing me."

"You pushed me!"

A gentle cough interrupted their argument. "Can I help you gentlemen?" They turned as one to see a plump, middle aged woman standing behind the counter staring at them with raised eyebrows.

Deciding to take charge of the situation, Nick strode across the room with an air of confidence and placed both hands on the counter. Heath looked out the window as he followed in his wake and his eyes opened wide when he spotted the Morton boys leaning against the wall of the gunsmith shop across the street.

Nick drummed his leather clad fingers on the counter as the rosy cheeked woman looked at him expectantly.

"We're here to pick up a parcel for our mother."

There, that was easy. Tell her what you want, get it and get out, simple.

Heath had come over and was tugging at Nick's coat sleeve.

"Nick."

"And what is your mothers name, young man?"

Heath started plucking at the sleeve, "Nick."

Nick ignored him, "Victoria Barkley."

"Ah yes, the parcel for Mrs. Barkley. I have it right here." She turned and started rummaging on the shelf behind her as Nick continued to drum the counter impatiently.

Heath glanced out the window and began nervously twisting the sleeve in his fingers.

"Nick."

The woman tapped her lips with her finger as she perused the shelf, "I thought it was here." She turned back to the counter and smiled, "maybe I put it in the back, I'll go check."

"Nick!!"

The black gloved hands smacked the counter in irritation as Heath started plucking at his sleeve again.

"WHAT!!"

"Those Morton boys are standin' across the street Nick, what if they saw us come in here." He went back to twisting the material of Nick's jacket as he watched the window, "ya know how much they hate ya Nick after ya won that five thousand off them at the rodeo.They'll tell everyone we were in here, then we won't even be able to go to the saloon without gettin' laughed at." His blue eyes narrowed worriedly, "I betcha' they saw us."

He cast another glance out the window, "I TOLD ya I didn't want to come in here! Now we can't even go to the Saturday night poker game at Annie's."

Nick glared at him and wrenched his arm away from the fingers clutching his sleeve, "what is WRONG with you Heath?" He gave him a dirty look., "why would we care if those Morton boys tell folks we went in a dress shop?"

Heath moved closer until he was pressed against Nick's side, as if seeking comfort in this sea of femininity. He moved even closer and whispered, "those Morton's know this ain't only a dress shop Nick. They know it's...it's."

His eyes darted around, touching on one dainty item after another before skittering away until they landed on a satin confection hanging in arms reach. He thought it was what they called a teddy and he wanted to reach out and see if it was as soft as it looked. Muffled giggles had him turning around in embarrassment to face the counter and he slid his fingers into the top of his jeans and hooked his thumbs over his gunbelt. Best to just keep these rough old workin' hands of his out of harms way, that way they wouldn't be tempted to touch anything they shouldn't.

Nick raised an eyebrow at him and prompted, "it's a what Heath?"

Heath's eyes opened wide and he muttered under his breath, "it's a ladies underwear shop Nick. We can't be seen in here, it ain't fittin'."

"OH FOR CRYIN' OUT LOUD HEATH!!" He looked at him as if he'd lost his mind and lowered his voice, "you're twenty-eight years old for god's sake and there's nothin' here ya haven't seen plenty of times before."

Heath lowered his head and scuffed the floor with the toe of his boot, "I never claimed to be pure as the driven snow." He looked up and glared, "and you've seen your share too Nick."

"Never mind about that. I'm not the one who's scared to be in here." His dark brows lowered in a frown as the saleslady came bustling in from the back room.

"Here's your package Mr. Barkley." She laid the brown paper wrapped parcel on the counter and started to unwrap it. "I just want to show you the bodice so you can explain to your mother how we cut the material in a scoop neckline instead of empire. It will hang better that way."

The woman proceeded to start lifting a low cut, sheer silk neglige out of the box while she rambled on, oblivious to the strangled gasps coming from the other side of the counter. Their mother would never wear anything that revealing!!

Heath just stood there, face flaming, staring at it mutely. Nick found his voice first.

"WHAT!!... IS THAT!!?"

She lowered the peach colored gown slowly and looked at him in confusion. He certainly didn't appear very happy and she secretly wondered how such a refined lady as Victoria Barkley could possibly be the mother of these two clearly rough and tumble young men.

"Why it's the neglige your mother ordered for your sister's wedding night. They came for the final fitting just the other day."

As the cowboy's dark brows lowered and his lips thinned into a hard line, she prudently decided further explanations weren't needed. She hastily folded the offending garment and quickly rewrapped it before shoving it across the counter and taking a step back.

"Here you are then. I'll talk to Mrs. Barkley another day, good bye now." She made a shooing motion with her hands hoping they would leave quietly and never darken her door again.

Nick snatched the box off the counter and tucked it under his arm angrily and the woman winced as it was crushed against his side. Heath tilted his head at her and leaned over the counter causing her to take another step back.

"Is there a back way outa' here ma'am."

She pointed wordlessly at the curtain hanging over a door at the back of the shop. He tipped his hat to her and Nick threw her one more dirty look before stomping out the back door. They came out in an alley and made their way back to the street where they stopped and looked around warily. The Morton's were gone and they breathed a sigh of relief.

Heath hooked his thumbs in his gunbelt and rocked back on his heels. "I reckon we could use a beer after that brother Nick."

"I'm with ya Heath." He narrowed his eyes and said, "then I think we should go to Wilson's Mercantile and pick out somethin' more suitable for our sister to wear for her weddin' night."

"Somethin' long and flannel that buttons to the neck, Nick?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right, because I'm tellin' ya now, Mr. Carl Wheeler isn't gonna' see our sister in this." He held up the box then slammed it back under his arm. "Let's go get that beer Heath and Harry can make us a steak while we're there."

They headed towards Annie's with long strides and Heath asked, "what about Jarrod and The Cattleman's?"

Nick waved the suggestion away irritably, "the heck with Jarrod, it's all his fault we had to go to that place. If the big shot lawyer had of taken a few minutes out of his day to pick this up, we wouldn't of had to do it."

The women friends had all left and Victoria and Silas were in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on supper while they waited for the rest of the family to arrive home. They looked up when two disgruntled cowboys pushed open the kitchen door and Nick's spurs jangled as he stomped over and flung the mangled box on the table with a scowl. The one string left holding it together gave up in defeat and snapped with a half-hearted pop.

Nick waved his hand at it in distaste. "There's your package Mother."

She cleared her throat and tried to keep a straight face as she looked at the box, "what happened to it Nick?"

The two made their way to the door leading to the hall and Nick turned and glared at her as he reached it, "you're lucky we brought it home at all."

He jerked the door open and went out grumbling and Heath turned before he left and shook his head in disappointment at the quaking shoulders and merriment in his mother's eyes as she held her hand against her mouth trying to hold back her mirth.

"We didn't think that was very funny Mother."

Nick met him outside the door, the sound of feminine laughter floating after them as they made their way down the hall.

The day of the wedding finally arrived and the house had been transformed. Deep peach and cream bows made out of satin festooned the banister of the staircase. Fresh flowers in a rainbow of colors had been shipped from the south and were strategically placed about the foyer and living room, filling the place with their perfumed scent. Except for the grand piano, the furniture had been moved back and wooden benches, separated by a wide aisle down the middle,were now set up in neat rows on an angle so everyone could see the bride as she came down the stairs. Each seat on the aisle had a wreath of white and peach roses, intermingled with babysbreath and silk ribbon, fastened to it.

An archway made up of white roses stood in front of the French doors where Father Davies would be performing the ceremony and a huge bouquet of peach, cream and white roses decorated the mantel of the fireplace where a cheery blaze warmed the room against the chill outside.

An army of caterers had arrived from Stockton and were currently in the kitchen preparing the mountains of food needed to feed the open reception. Silas would leave that part to them so he could be free to greet the arriving guests, take their coats and hats and show them to their seats. About sixty of the closest relatives and friends of the Barkley's and Wheeler's had been invited to the ceremony, while most who were acquainted with them were expected to attend the reception.

The ceremony was scheduled to begin at one o'clock, followed by the reception at five. That gave the caterers the time they needed to take away the benches and position the furniture around the perimeter of the room, leaving plenty of space in the center for dancing. Trestle tables covered in snowy white linens and sparkling silver and crystal were to be set up in the foyer for the food and drink. Jarrod had hired a small orchestra from San Francisco and they would be arriving from their hotel in Stockton at four to set up in a corner of the living room. All seemed to be in order for this long awaited day.

Audra's maid-of-honor, Caroline Winters, had just arrived from Sacramento that morning and the girls were busy catching up on what they had been doing since Caroline had moved away the previous year to teach school. They had been lifelong friends and missed each other terribly. Caroline had to return home on Sunday so she would be back in time for school on Monday morning but she had been thrilled to come and see her dear friend married.

Carl would be arriving about twelve-thirty when he would join the brother's in a nerve calming drink in the library. Nick was to be his best man and escort Caroline while Heath escorted his mother. Jarrod, as male head of the family, would give the bride away.

Victoria made her way down the hall at twelve to help Audra dress while Caroline did her hair and makeup. She herself had gotten ready early so she wouldn't have to rush later on if there were problems. The skirt of her silk lilac colored gown swished as she hurried to her daughters room. Her step slowed as she approached Nick's room and heard raised voices from within.

"Would ya stop squirmin' or I'll never get this tied."

"Why can't ya stand in front of me and tie it?"

"Because it doesn't look the same, it's all backwards. I have to pretend I'm tying my own."

Nick jerked the ends of Heath's bow tie loose again and looked over the broad shoulder as he tried to see what he was doing.

"Can't ya crouch down a bit Heath so I can see a little better?"

"Ya can see fine, I just think ya don't know what you're doin'."

"I did mine didn't I?" Nick made a disgusted sound as he pulled the white silk material loose and started over once more.

Jarrod sat in a comfortable chair by the window, legs crossed, elbows propped on the arms of the chair while he puffed on a cigar and watched the two in amusement.

He gestured at them with the cigar and raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't it be easier Nicholas, if I did that? After all I do have a lot more experience at it than you."

Nick looked over at his brother and scowled. Jarrod was already dressed in his black tuxedo and crisp white shirt and as usual was impeccably groomed and polished. Nick couldn't imagine the lawyer's clothes would ever dare to wrinkle.

He turned back to the task at hand with a grumble, "I could do it, if Heath would just quit movin' around." He crossed the pieces over and pulled them tight.

"ARRRRGH, what are you doin' Nick!" Heath reached up to pull at the hand at his throat as Jarrod sighed and shook his head.

Victoria pushed open the door and eyed them with a frown, "what is going on in here? You're supposed to be getting ready!"

"HE'S STRANGLING ME!!"

She looked down and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her sleeve, her voice preoccupied as she answered, "Nick, stop strangling your brother."

"He keeps squirming!"

"Heath, stop squirming."

"I would if Nick would stop strangling me."

She looked over at her eldest son and gave an exasperated sigh, "I don't know why you can't help your brother's Jarrod."

She pulled the door shut and left as he opened his mouth to protest. He closed it again with a shrug and went back to puffing on his cigar as he watched the struggle going on in front of the mirror.

....Continued