He nodded to show that he understood.

Cleo quickly explained the rest of the game, shuffled the deck of cards - with the speed and precision of a professional card player, Morgan thought - and began dealing them around the table. When they each had thirteen cards, they picked up their hands and began sorting them into order.

Morgan's paternal grandmother had considered any game that included the use of cards to be the devil's handiwork and his father had forbidden a deck of playing cards under his roof. As a young man away at school, he'd avoided card games - even simple ones like Going to Market Going to Market and and Rook Rook - out of respect for his grandmother and father. It wasn't that he believed there was intrinsic evil in a deck of cards. It was simply that old habits died hard. Even now he half-expected to feel his grandmother slap his hand. - out of respect for his grandmother and father. It wasn't that he believed there was intrinsic evil in a deck of cards. It was simply that old habits died hard. Even now he half-expected to feel his grandmother slap his hand.

But that feeling was soon overcome by the enthusiasm of the Arlington family and his own compet.i.tive nature. Cleo won the first game and did her share of crowing over his measly three sets. He wasn't about to be trounced a second time.

Before they knew it, the clock chimed nine o'clock. At the sound, everyone laid their cards facedown on the table. There was a quick and wordless exchange of glances before Griff said, "Let's walk down to the munic.i.p.al building. I can't sit here and wait for them to bring the news to us."

Once out on the sidewalk, Morgan offered Gwen his arm and she took it. "G.o.d's in control," he said softly.

"Yes."

When the foursome reached Main Street, they saw that they weren't the only ones who wanted to know the results tonight, as soon as they were announced. Lots of people, most of them in groups of three or four, were walking toward the Bethlehem Springs Munic.i.p.al Building. The mild evening air was punctuated with their voices and laughter. Some called out to Gwen and Morgan, wishing them luck. Others smiled and waved. No one seemed to consider it odd that the two candidates were walking arm in arm. Morgan had a feeling their secret wasn't much of a secret.

At the munic.i.p.al building, they found a crowd - about a hundred people, Morgan guessed - gathered at the bottom of the steps. Seeing Morgan and Gwen's approach, the a.s.sembly parted like the Red Sea before Moses, allowing them through, Cleo and Griff right behind them.

As everyone settled in again, Morgan caught snippets of conversation: someone wondering if or when the United States would be dragged into the growing war in Europe; a woman expressing horror over the sinking of the RMS Lusitania Lusitania off the coast of Ireland; two men discussing what it took to be a great baseball player. off the coast of Ireland; two men discussing what it took to be a great baseball player.

Morgan and Gwen said nothing. What was there to say now?

Strange, he thought, the importance this election had played in his life over the past weeks. If he'd never declared for office, he wouldn't have come to know Gwen. He probably wouldn't have thought to take piano lessons. They wouldn't be engaged. If he hadn't declared his candidacy, he would still be living in a tent up at New Hope, all of his attention focused on the spa's construction - eating, drinking, and sleeping the completion of the resort.

A murmur pa.s.sed through the crowd and slowly conversations ceased. Morgan looked toward the top of the steps to see Jackson Jones standing there, a piece of paper in his hand.

"Good evening. The votes from today's election have been tallied, and it is my duty to inform you that Miss Guinevere Arlington, by a margin of twelve votes, has been elected as your new mayor."

Behind them came a couple of shouts of congratulations, some applause, and a few murmurs of dissatisfaction.

Twelve votes. Much closer than he'd expected, but still the victory for Gwen that he'd predicted. But no matter. She'd won. That's what counted.

Morgan was tempted to gather her into his arms and kiss her in front of everyone. After all, the election was hers. But they'd agreed to wait until after she was sworn into office, and so wait he would.

Dearest Mother, Dearest Mother,I have much to share with you. You shall never guess all that has transpired since I last wrote. Remember that I told you I decided to run for mayor in the Bethlehem Springs special election. When I wrote that letter, I was facing two opponents in the race. One of them dropped out several weeks ago. One week after that, the other man and I were to debate each other. Only instead of debating, he told the crowd that he planned to vote for me. It caused quite a stir.Today was the election, and I won! Not by a great many votes, but I still won. I will be sworn into office in nine days. I wish you could be here, but I'm afraid you won't receive the letter in time for you to arrange to travel here.But I have another more important reason to ask you to come for a visit. I am to be married in mid-August. Morgan McKinley is my fiance's name, and he was the opponent who voted for me. A rather strange set of circ.u.mstances, I am sure you will agree. But I am also sure the greater surprise for you is that I have chosen to marry at all. I know I told you I wouldn't, but I was wrong. Loving Morgan proved me wrong.Mother, even though you have said you never want to set eyes on Bethlehem Springs again, I hope you will make an exception for my wedding. Cleo would so very much like to spend some time with you too. Please don't disappoint us.Morgan's father and mother are both deceased, but he has a younger sister, Daphne, who has come from Boston for the summer. Dad and Cleo both think the world of Morgan and have already made him a member of our family.Dad is in good health. Cleo is the same as ever. And I am well too.If you can come, please send me a telegram rather than a letter. It will reach me so much sooner. You can stay with me in my home, which is small, or with Dad and Cleo at the ranch. Or if you would rather, Morgan would make you welcome to stay with him and Daphne.Please do come.

With much love, Your daughter, Guinevere

THIRTY-ONE.

A half hour after the swearing in ceremony concluded, Morgan leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb and watched as Gwen ran her gloved fingertips over the surface of the large desk.

Didn't most mayors in America have gray beards and round bellies? Obviously the voters of Bethlehem Springs had better taste when choosing who would serve them. Just look at Gwen. She was more beautiful in that rose-colored dress and the matching wide-brimmed hat than he had seen her look before - and that was saying something.

"Well, Madam Mayor. What do you think of your new office?"

She lifted a somewhat bewildered gaze in his direction. "It's a little surreal, isn't it? I keep thinking I'll wake up and find this whole thing has been a dream."

"It's all real, Gwen." He pushed off the doorjamb, closed the door with his foot, and crossed the room to take her in his arms. "And so is the love I feel for you."

"Good sir." She tilted her head back to look at him. "Are you trying to influence city hall?"

"Indeed, madam, I am." He kissed her, something he'd wanted to do earlier but couldn't with so many people around.

All too soon, she pulled back from his embrace. "I'm expecting Mayor Hopkins any moment. He and I must discuss some matters before he leaves Bethlehem Springs."

"He's leaving town that soon?"

"Yes, for medical treatment at a hospital in Chicago." She removed her hat and placed it on a bookcase beneath one of the windows. "I don't know how long our meeting will last."

"Would you like me to come for you later?"

She shook her head. "It's hard to know when I'll be finished."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure. Don't worry about me. I'll walk home when I'm through here."

"All right, then." He leaned in to kiss her again. "Don't shake things up too much on your first day in office."

Her laughter stayed with him long after he'd left the munic.i.p.al building.

It was nearing six in the evening by the time Gwen closed the thick law book on her desk. Her head swam with numbers and laws and rules and expectations and requests. What a day.

Outside the open window in her office, the promise of evening had begun to spread shadows over the town. Music, laughter, and voices could be heard coming from the direction of the High Horse Saloon, located about a block away. If Idaho became a dry state, the High Horse would be forced to close its doors. Gwen had never been involved in the temperance movement, but she had to believe public drunkenness would become a thing of the past if Prohibition was enacted. That would be a relief to everyone.

The air was still and unusually hot, which didn't make for a pleasant walk home. By the time Gwen reached her gate, her dress was clinging to her, sticky with perspiration. What she wanted before dinner was a cool bath and something cold to drink.

She was almost to the steps when she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. There was someone on her porch. Maybe Morgan had - "Guinevere, at last."

Gwen drew in a breath. "Mother?"

"Yes, dear. Believe it or not, I have come."

Gwen hurried up the steps and embraced her mother. "When did you get here? Why didn't you let me know you were coming?"

"I packed my bags the day I got your letter. I couldn't let you plan a wedding without me. It will be difficult enough, living as you do in the middle of nowhere, to have a proper ceremony."

"Bethlehem Springs is not in the middle of nowhere, Mother, and we have churches and ministers who perform wedding ceremonies all the time."

"Mmm."

Gwen felt tension tightening her shoulders. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Only an hour or so."

"If I'd known, I would have left my office and come straight home." She thought longingly of the cool bath she'd planned to take. That would have to wait. "Today was the inauguration. I'm the mayor now."

"So I was told by the nice gentleman who gave me directions to your house."

"Aren't you the littlest bit pleased for me?" Gwen hated the pleading note she heard in her voice.

"I suppose if it's what you want, Guinevere, then I'm glad."

She wished Morgan were with her. She wished she could see him smile at her as he had earlier in the day, could hear him tell her he was proud of her.

"But I want to hear about your intended. How on earth did Morgan McKinley end up here? And now he's engaged to you. There are young women on two continents who wanted to do what you have done."

"Shall we go inside, Mother? There's no need for us to remain standing on the porch. And you must be hungry after your journey."

"No, I do not want to go inside and I am not hungry." Her mother took hold of Gwen's arm and drew her to the chairs on the porch. "Now sit down and answer my question."

There was no use resisting. Elizabeth Arlington could be as stubborn as either of her daughters. Gwen might as well tell her what she wanted to know. "Morgan is building a health resort just north of town. He came to Idaho over a year ago."

"He's been living here all this time? And you never mentioned it once in your letters?"

"I had no reason to mention him. I didn't know him."

Her mother rolled her eyes. "You should have known I'd be interested. His family is held in esteem on both sides of t he Atlantic. In their day, the McKinley family hosted presidents and kings." She shook her head. "And to think you almost settled for that Bryant Hudson fellow."

I almost settled for him? Gwen pressed her lips together, swallowing a retort. Her brief engagement to Bryant was her mother's doing, not hers. How could her mother forget that? Gwen pressed her lips together, swallowing a retort. Her brief engagement to Bryant was her mother's doing, not hers. How could her mother forget that?

"Oh, my. I can tell you. My friends are green with envy since I told them who you are engaged to marry. What an achievement!"

"It's not an achievement, Mother. I didn't ensnare him or win him. We fell in love."

"Love." Her mother waved a hand, as if brushing away a pesky fly. "A woman is far better served finding a husband who can give her a comfortable life and a secure future. Love can come later, if at all. Women who fall in love first are only asking for heartache. You will regret it if you go into marriage floating on some silly cloud of emotions. You mark my words."

About an hour after they'd eaten dinner together, Morgan rapped on the door to his sister's room. "Daphne? May I come in?"

"Yes, of course. I'm decent."

He opened the door. "I thought I'd go over to Gwen's for a while. See how her first day in office went. Care to come along?"

"No, thank you." She pointed to the open journal on the small desk. "I'm writing down some thoughts. Besides, you don't need me along. I'm sure you'd like to be alone with your fiancee."

"Gwen and I want you to know you're always welcome, whatever we're doing."

Amus.e.m.e.nt sparkled in her eyes. "Not always."

He couldn't argue with her. She was right. He would like some time alone with Gwen. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her breathless. He wanted - "And before you ask me if I'm sure, yes, I'm sure. You go on and enjoy the evening. Like I said, I'm busy with my writing. I won't even know you're gone."

"Mother wrote faithfully in her journals all the years that I remember. It's good one of us picked up the habit."

Daphne smiled. "I enjoy it. Writing has become a part of me, I guess." She flicked her fingers at him. "Now go on before I lose my train of thought entirely."

This time Morgan didn't hesitate. With a nod, he backed into the hall, closing the door as he went. Minutes later, he was in his motorcar and driving toward Gwen's home.

He'd thought of Gwen so often since he left her alone in the mayor's office that morning. Had the day gone well for her? Was she loving the work or hating it? Had there been a spare moment in her day when she'd thought of him too?

No matter what, he was certain she'd given her all. That was the way Gwen did everything. At least that was his opinion. Admittedly, he was biased.

He turned onto Wallula and braked to a stop in front of her white fence. He hopped over the side of the car and strode up her walk. The front door was open, probably in hopes a breeze would blow through. Beyond the screen he heard two women's voices. Someone had beaten him here. Whoever it was, Morgan would run her off in a hurry.

He peered through the screen as he rapped on the doorjamb. "Gwen, it's me. I came to hear about your first day in office."

A heartbeat later, Gwen appeared in the doorway to her bedroom. "Morgan," she whispered. She didn't look glad to see him.

"Do you have a visitor?" He stepped inside, made uncertain by Gwen's expression. "I thought I heard another voice."

"You did." A woman - a stranger to him - appeared in the bedroom doorway, smiling broadly. "I'm Elizabeth Arlington. And you must be Morgan McKinley." She moved toward him, her right arm outstretched. "What a pleasure it is to meet you, dear boy."

Morgan's first impression of Gwen's mother was that she was an undeniably handsome woman. However, he saw little resemblance to her daughters. Elizabeth's hair was auburn rather than blonde, and her eyes were a watery green instead of blue. Perhaps Gwen had the same chin and Cleo the same nose.

He shook hands with his future mother-in-law. "The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Arlington. I a.s.sure you."

"I could not believe it when I received Guinevere's letter, telling me of her engagement to you. But Mr. McKinley, I cannot fathom why you chose to move to this G.o.dforsaken town when you have such beautiful family estates in the East. Surely that would be a more appropriate place for you and Guinevere to live and raise a family."

Obviously Elizabeth Arlington knew more than just his name. He'd wager she knew his entire history and the extent of the McKinley fortune as well. That would explain her haste to reach this town she so despised. He wasn't completely surprised. Gwen had given him some warning about her mother. And of course he'd known other women like Elizabeth Arlington.

His gaze returned to Gwen. Her internal conflict was written in her eyes. The Gwen he knew best - the one who wasn't afraid to run for mayor, the one who could stand up to the disapproval of her neighbors and who could live independently - had disappeared from view.

Elizabeth clapped her hands. "But now I am here and we can begin to plan a proper wedding."

Gwen closed her eyes. If only the floor would open up and swallow her whole. She never should have mentioned Morgan's name in her letter. If her mother had thought she was marrying a man of humble means, she might not have come for the wedding at all. But Gwen had wanted her here. Just not like this.

Another knock sounded at the door, and she looked to see who it was, glad for any intrusion.

f.a.gan Doyle stood on the other side of the screen. "Morgan, I need to speak with you."

"W hat is it? " Morgan pushed open the screen door and stepped onto the porch. "Trouble?"

f.a.gan lowered his voice, but not enough that Gwen couldn't hear him. "One of the guards found dynamite not far from the bathhouse. In the forest just below it."

"Dynamite?"

"I'm thinking someone brought it there with plans to use it. Maybe he got scared away by one of the guards. Maybe it was left there until a better opportunity."

"It's escalating."

"Aye, it is that."

Gwen moved toward the door. "What's escalating?"