"It isn't the same thing."

"Isn't it? Well, you needn't worry anyway. Mr. McKinley is not that sort of man."

"You are naive."

"Perhaps." She rose to her feet. "But as long as he wishes to take lessons and is diligent in his practice, I shall continue with his instruction."

"If it is income you need - "

"My income is none of your concern." There was no disguising her anger now. He had to see it in her eyes and the stiffness of her posture.

Harrison stood. "I'm sorry." There was nothing apologetic in either his tone or his expression. "I did not mean to offend."

"I must ask you to excuse me, Mr. Carter. It is time I put dinner in the oven."

"Of course." He set his hat back on his head. "I shall see you on Sat.u.r.day evening."

She forced herself to say, "Thank you for dropping by."

Now that was a lie if ever she'd spoken one.

TWENTY-ONE.

"This was a mistake," Gwen whispered to her reflection in the mirror.

"Balderdash," Cleo said from the bedroom doorway. "You'll turn all the men's heads tonight. Those senators won't know what hit 'em once they lay eyes on you."

Gwen turned to face her sister. "That isn't why I'm going."

"Land sakes, Gwennie. It doesn't hurt to use what you've got. Didn't G.o.d make you this way? Both smart and and pretty. Pretty as sunrise on the prairie, that's what you are, and nothing you do is going to change that." pretty. Pretty as sunrise on the prairie, that's what you are, and nothing you do is going to change that."

Gwen swallowed a sigh. Better she drop the subject than argue with Cleo. She would never win. Her sister could be as stubborn as the day was long.

"I'll go hitch the horse to the buggy. You should've accepted Morgan's offer to come for you. Then neither one of us would have to take care of Shakespeare when you get back. It's likely to be mighty late."

"Mr. McKinley has other guests to see to without worrying about me. I've unhitched my horse from the buggy late at night before. I'm not helpless, you know."

"Yep. I know."

As soon as her sister left the room, Gwen sank onto the stool before the dressing table and ma.s.saged her temples with the tips of her fingers. Her head was beginning to throb. Perhaps she should send Cleo with her regrets. She could crawl into bed with a cup of tea and a good book and forget about making small talk with strangers.

But of course she couldn't do that. She had an election to win, and that meant being polite and glad-handing one and all.

"At least Mr. Carter won't be there."

Thinking of the man brought a frown. Look how he'd reacted to the piano lessons. Just imagine how upset he would be once he learned she'd attended a dinner party at Morgan McKinley's home. He'd be livid.

Poor Susannah Carter. Gwen didn't doubt that Harrison's wife would bear the brunt of his ill temper. He seemed that type of man. The dictatorial sort who believed women should stay in their place, be seen but not heard, right along with his children.

Which made her wonder why he'd backed her for mayor.

Harrison Carter was also a good reminder of why she'd chosen to remain unmarried. She would rather enter old age as a spinster than allow herself to be joined to a husband who might treat her as a possession. And maybe as mayor, she would help others realize that women were not second-cla.s.s citizens, that their thoughts and opinions had value.

Her confidence and resolve restored, she rose from the stool, checked her appearance one last time, then turned and picked up her wrap from the foot of the bed. It was time to leave, lest she be late. Gwen hated to be late.

Morgan saw William Rudyard's eyes widen and heard the older gentleman's intake of breath, and he knew Gwen had arrived. He turned toward the parlor doorway.

There she was, a vision in a pale-blue gown the same shade as her eyes, the bodice and skirt accented with white Venetian lace. Her upswept hair was dressed with pearls to match the simple strand of the same that encircled her throat.

"Excuse me, Senator."

Morgan crossed the room, no doubt smiling like a complete fool. He couldn't help it. The world seemed a brighter and better place when he was near Gwen. He hadn't seen her since his lesson, and the days had dragged by from then until now.

"Good evening, Miss Arlington. I'm glad you could come."

Her smile was polite but slightly guarded. "Good evening."

"Come with me." He offered the crook of his arm. "I want to introduce you to Senator Rudyard and his friends."

"Meeting them is why you invited me, is it not?"

That might be her reason for coming, but it wasn't his reason for inviting her. That had only been his excuse, a way to get her to agree to come, a reason for him to spend an evening with her, to offer her his arm and have her accept it, the way she did now.

He escorted her across the room filled with guests and stopped in front of William. "Senator, may I present Miss Gwen Arlington. Miss Arlington, this is Senator Rudyard."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Gwen offered her hand.

William took it. "The pleasure is all mine." He studied her with an a.s.sessing gaze before releasing her hand. Then he looked at Morgan. "I can see why you're worried about winning the election. This young woman is made of sterner stuff. I can feel it in her handshake and see it in her eyes."

"Indeed," Morgan answered.

"Are you enjoying your stay in Bethlehem Springs?" Gwen asked the senator.

"We are. Morgan here is a fine host. Yesterday we drove up to the site of his new health resort. I had no idea it would be so impressive. I venture to say it will be a boon for your town and for all of Idaho. Have you been up there, Miss Arlington?"

"Yes. Mr. McKinley was kind enough to give me a tour of the building site. Like you, I was surprised and impressed."

William leaned closer to Gwen. "Then I expect you will want to lend your support to its timely completion."

Morgan placed his fingers against the small of Gwen's back. "Billy, you are dangerously close to talking politics before we have dined. I'm going to rescue Miss Arlington. She has yet to meet my other guests."

William winked at Gwen. "We shall talk more of this, my good woman."

As had been the case three weeks earlier at the Carter home, Gwen knew most of the people at the table, including Nathan Patterson and his wife. They had been present at the Carters' dinner party as well, and the commissioner would be as unhappy with them as he would be with her when he learned of their attendance tonight.

"You should visit Yellowstone," William Rudyard - seated on her right - said. "It is unforgettable, I promise you. One need not travel to the interiors of Africa in order to experience the beauty of nature. We have it in abundance in our own backyard."

"You've been to Africa?"

"Indeed. I went with Teddy Roosevelt's hunting party in aught-nine."

"I imagine Africa is quite exotic. Did you shoot any big game yourself?"

"One does not travel to Africa with Teddy and not hunt with him."

The sound of Morgan's laughter drew Gwen's gaze to the head of the table where he sat. His head was thrown back in enjoyment, and Christina and Nathan Patterson were laughing with him.

"Morgan's one of the finest young men I've ever known," the senator said softly.

She felt her cheeks grow warm, wondering what her expression had revealed to the older gentleman. "How long have you known him?"

"Since he was born. I was a friend to his father in our youth, and later, I grew very fond of Morgan's mother. Asked her to marry me the year after she was widowed, but she would have none of it. Her heart always belonged to Alastair McKinley, Morgan's father. Right to her death, she loved him."

It must be wonderful, Gwen thought, to have parents who loved each other, who were devoted to each other until death. Surely, if Elizabeth Arlington had loved Gwen's father enough - or ever - she would have stayed with him while he built his ranch in Idaho.

Her eyes turned once again toward the head of the table. Did Morgan know how blessed he'd been, to have parents who loved each another? Yes. She believed he must know. It was the kind of man he was.

"Dear, is everything all right?"

Harrison looked as his wife, seated in a nearby chair, an open book now lying face down in her lap. "Why do you ask?"

"You've seemed out of sorts for days."

"Have I?" He folded the newspaper and set it aside.

"Is there anything I can do to help? I would like to, if I can."

"No, there is nothing you can do." He rose from the sofa. "I've had business matters on my mind. That's all. Nothing that concerns you."

She looked as if she would say something more, then took up her book and began reading again. A wise choice of action. Nothing irritated Harrison more than when Susannah tried to understand a man's business.

He left the parlor and walked to the library, closing the door behind him to ensure he wouldn't be disturbed again. At the window, he looked across the darkened town to the McKinley home, now ablaze with lights. A dinner party - much the same as the one he'd hosted three weeks earlier - was happening there, a party whose guest list included three Idaho senators.

Why were they in Bethlehem Springs? What was their relationship with Morgan McKinley? How would their presence affect the election? Or would it?

Harrison didn't like that he had no answers to those questions. Lately it seemed that the world was set against him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and index finger as he turned from the window. His headache was worsening.

He cursed softly as he sank onto a chair. To the devil with McKinley and his friends. Harrison Carter would achieve his goal. McKinley would give up on completing that resort. Before many more weeks had pa.s.sed, the fellow would be begging for someone to buy those one hundred acres of land. And Harrison would be more than willing to oblige.

But what will it take to make him sell?

"A wonderful evening," William said, his foot on the bottom step of the staircase. "Superb in every way. I believe you've made a good impression on the folks who were here tonight."

Morgan nodded.

"I'm looking forward to the debate tomorrow evening. Should prove most interesting." He chuckled. "And don't underestimate Miss Arlington."

"Believe me, Billy, I won't."

"Well, good night then." With a wave of his hand, the senator turned and climbed the stairs to his guest room.

Morgan left the entry hall and went into the front parlor. At the piano, he brushed his fingertips along the white keys, then went outside to stand on the veranda. The night air was balmy, a soft breeze rustling the leaves of the trees and shrubbery.

It had been a good evening. The company had been pleasant, the food had been as fine as any served to him in the best restaurants. He would give his compliments to Mrs. Nelson when she arrived in the morning, along with the accolades of his guests.

Gwen had seemed to enjoy herself too. He was glad of that.

He smiled as he leaned against a post. Lately, whenever he thought of Gwen, a smile was his automatic response. He'd never expected his feelings for her to change - never expected he would actually fall in love - but change they had. And because of that change, he had a feeling more changes were in store for him. What that was exactly he couldn't be sure.

TWENTY-TWO.

Gwen awoke Sat.u.r.day morning with a smile on her lips. She'd been dreaming something wonderful, something happy, but she couldn't recall the details. She wished she could.

Stretching while releasing a soft groan, she opened her eyes. Sunlight filtered through the curtains over her window, and she knew that she'd slept later than was usual. She should get up. A busy day awaited her. Still, she would rather lie in bed and try to recapture her dream.

Only it was thoughts of her evening at Morgan's home that came to her instead.

William Rudyard had been an interesting conversationalist and had offered numerous bits of information about Morgan. Gwen had been careful not to ask too many questions, but the senator hadn't needed her to. He was quite forthright without encouragement from her. Everything he'd said had made her like Morgan a little more than before. Even more than she wanted to like him.

She closed her eyes and pictured her political opponent in his fine black suit and tie. She hadn't seen Morgan in formal dress before. It suited him. She could imagine him walking along a promenade, hands gloved, swinging a cane, a dashing figure in a silk top hat.

Dashing. That was a good description. Morgan was, indeed, dashing.

Gwen covered her face with her hands and groaned a second time. It was most inconvenient to like the opposition in this mayoral race. She never should have accepted his invitation to last night's dinner party. She never should have agreed to give him piano lessons. She should have kept her distance from the start.

A rap sounded on her door. "Hey, sleepyhead," Cleo called to her. "Are you ever getting up?"

"Yes."

The door opened, and her sister looked into the room. "When?"

"Now." Gwen sat up, her back propped against the pillows.

Cleo entered and sat on the foot of the bed. "So tell me about last night. What did you think of the senators?"