"Someone doesn't want the spa to get finished." Morgan looked at her through the screen. "We've had a few cases of vandalism, but until now it hasn't put anyone in danger. It's just cost us time and money." His jaw clenched. "This is different." He faced f.a.gan again. "Carter's gone too far this time."

"Carter?" Gwen pushed open the screen door. "Harrison Carter?"

"Yes."

She stepped outside. "You think he he has something to do with the vandalism. But why?" has something to do with the vandalism. But why?"

"He's made it clear he doesn't think the spa will be good for the town."

"I know that. But it doesn't mean he would destroy property or try to dynamite the spa. That's absurd. Where is your proof? You can't accuse him without proof of some kind."

Morgan's gaze was hard as it met hers. "He's a dangerous man, Gwen."

"Oh, Morgan. I know you don't like him. He isn't my favorite person either. But dangerous?"

"I can't explain it. It's something I feel in my gut. Carter's failed to buy me out or force me out so far, and now he's getting desperate. There's no telling what he might do next." Morgan took hold of her shoulders. "Steer clear of him, Gwen."

"How am I to do that? He and I will be working together on - "

Morgan's fingers tightened on her shoulders. "Stay away from him. Stay home if you must. I have a bad feeling about this."

"I'm the mayor." Anger sparked inside her, and she jerked free of his grasp. "I intend to do my job."

"And I'm telling you it isn't safe. I want you to stay at home until I can make sure you are."

She couldn't believe her ears. She was the mayor. She had duties and obligations. And because he suspected Harrison Carter of some misdeed, Morgan now expected her to ignore those duties - because he said so. What gave him that right? She didn't need his protection. She certainly didn't need him to tell her what she could or could not do.

"I think you and Mr. Doyle should go," she said softly. "It sounds like you have important things to do."

"Gwen - "

"Just go. I need to get Mother settled in for the night. She's exhausted from her journey, and I'm feeling tired myself. It's been a full day."

"All right. We'll go. But promise me you'll - "

"Please go, Morgan. I'm too tired to argue with you."

"I didn't mean for us to argue."

He leaned in to kiss her on the lips, but she turned her cheek to him at the last moment.

"Good night, Morgan."

Gwen was right, of course. Morgan had no proof that Harrison Carter had been behind any of the troubles they'd experienced at New Hope. He'd had his suspicions almost from the start, but without proof, there hadn't been anything to say or do. Besides, he'd thought once Harrison saw the spa succeeding, once he saw it bringing prosperity and progress to the town, he would give up, go away, leave things alone.

He didn't think so anymore. Everything in Morgan said that not only was Carter behind these troubles, but his desperation to force Morgan out had made him dangerous. Why couldn't Gwen see that?

THIRTY-TWO.

Gwen arose after a torturous, sleepless night on the cot in her small office, her mind made up. She would break her engagement. They weren't even married and Morgan expected her to obey him. How much worse might it be after they wed? No, breaking the engagement was the only thing she could do. She could take care of herself. She'd lived on her own for more than seven years now. She would be happy to continue living alone in the future.

Happy? Well, perhaps not happy. Maybe content was the better word. She would be content. The ache in her heart would ease with time.

She slipped her arms into the sleeves of her dressing gown and made her way to the kitchen to prepare coffee and was surprised to see that her mother was up and seated at the table.

"Good morning, Mother. I didn't expect to see you up this early." She filled the coffeepot with water. "Did you sleep well?"

"No, my dear, I did not. Your bed is rather uncomfortable. I'm sure that the beds at the McKinley home are of better quality. Perhaps I should do as you suggested in your letter and go to stay with Mr. McKinley and his sister."

"That wouldn't be a good idea, Mother." She turned to face the table. "I... I'm calling off the wedding."

"You're what what?"

"I'm not going to marry Morgan after all. I thought about it all night long, and I realize I can't go through with it."

"Good heavens, Guinevere! You'll never have an opportunity to marry a man like Morgan McKinley again. You are not exactly in your prime, you know. Do you have any idea what you're throwing away?"

Her heart was shattering into a million pieces. Wasn't that proof enough that she knew what she was throwing away?

"Now you listen to me, young lady. I will not - "

"No, Mother, I won't listen. Not right now. I can't listen to you right now." Tears welled in her eyes, and her throat tightened until she couldn't swallow. Even breathing seemed too great an effort. It would be easier to lie down and die.

She hurried into her temporary bedroom and prepared for the day ahead as quickly as her shaking hands would allow.

Morgan leaned his knuckles against the black surface of Harrison's desk. "Let me make myself clear, Carter. I don't know why you want me gone from here, but you might as well resign yourself to the fact that I'm not leaving. I'm not selling my land. The resort will be finished and it will open. I do mean to discover who has been vandalizing my property. And if you or your lackeys cause harm to even one person, I will see to it that you are in jail for a long, long time."

"Get out." Harrison rolled his chair back from the desk. "You have no business here. Get out or I'll call the police and have you thrown out."

"You want to call for the police?" Straightening, Morgan motioned toward the telephone on Harrison's desk. "Be my guest. Sheriff Winston might also be interested in knowing about the dynamite Mr. Doyle found on New Hope property yesterday. Hidden, as if someone intended to return for it later. And while we're at it, he'd probably like to hear a few of my theories about the vandalism and who might be behind it."

That was fear Morgan read in the other man's eyes. He wanted to take comfort in it, but he couldn't. He wouldn't take comfort until he was sure no one was in danger.

"And, Carter, I'm warning you. Keep away from Miss Arlington."

With that, he turned on his heel and strode from the office. Once outside, he crossed the street to the munic.i.p.al building and went straight to the mayor's office. He knew he had some apologizing to do. Even though he was sure he'd been right to tell Gwen to avoid Harrison Carter, he hadn't gone about it in the most diplomatic of ways.

The secretary at the desk outside Gwen's office looked up as he entered. "h.e.l.lo, Mr. McKinley."

The door to the inner office was open, but he couldn't see Gwen.

"If you're looking for Mayor Arlington, she hasn't come in yet."

"Really?" Now that surprised him. He would have wagered a pretty penny that Gwen would ignore his request that she stay at home. Maybe he hadn't left things last night in as bad a place as he'd thought. "Well, please tell her I came by."

"Of course. And Mr. McKinley, may I say congratulations. I understand you and Mayor Arlington are to be married."

"Yes, we are. Thank you."

Morgan left the munic.i.p.al building, this time turning toward Gwen's home. Even if she had honored his request, that didn't mean he shouldn't tell her he was sorry for the way he went about it.

A few minutes later, he arrived on her front porch and knocked on the door. When it opened, it was Elizabeth Arlington who stood on the other side of the screen.

Morgan removed his hat. "Good morning, Mrs. Arlington. I was hoping to talk to Gwen."

"She isn't here. She left in her buggy some time ago. I understood she was going to your home."

"We must have crossed paths somewhere along the way."

Elizabeth opened the screen. "So you haven't already seen her this morning?"

"No, ma'am."

"Well, when you do, please talk some sense into her. I certainly couldn't do it. Mark my words. This is because of her father's influence. Filling that girl's head with all kinds of nonsense. Why else would she choose to live all alone in this town when she could have returned to the East and married long before this? And now she wants to throw away the best opportunity of her life. Well, you can imagine how upset I've been."

No, he couldn't understand. She wasn't making a great deal of sense, other than to let him know she was upset with Gwen. Another time he might have stayed and tried to sort it out. But right now all he wanted to do was find Gwen.

Morgan set his hat on his head. "If she returns, please tell her I'm looking for her and to wait for me here."

Shakespeare trotted along the road at a smart clip, and with each stride the horse took Gwen felt the pain in her chest increasing.

"I could be wrong, of course," Mrs. Cheevers had told Gwen a short while before, "but I think Mr. McKinley must have gone to New Hope with his overseer. I understand he and Mr. Doyle were in the study late last evening, and neither one looked too happy when I saw them this morning."

If Morgan was at the resort, Gwen had decided, then that's where she would go. She couldn't accomplish anything in her new office until this matter was settled between them. She must tell Morgan she couldn't marry him. She had to make him understand why.

She loved him. Loved him more than she'd thought possible.

But that wasn't reason enough to marry. Was it?

Perhaps he hadn't meant to come across the way he had.

But if he didn't mean it, he shouldn't have said it.

No, she had to go through with it. She had to break their engagement. She'd known all along it was better that she remain single. She liked liked her life just as it was. her life just as it was.

Or at least the way it had been before Morgan came into it.

With a sigh, Gwen refocused her attention to the road ahead. They were nearing New Hope. Less than a mile to go. Her gaze went to the creek off the right side of the road.

"Too bad," she heard Harrison Carter whisper in her memory she heard Harrison Carter whisper in her memory. "I wanted to speak with him about some concerns the board has regarding the effect the spa will have on Crow's Creek. Once it joins the river a few miles south of here, it will become our problem." it will become our problem."

Gwen pulled on the reins and brought Shakespeare to a halt. Her gaze lifted to the forest that stood between her and New Hope. The bathhouse and pools had to be due north of where her buggy sat right now.

This time it was f.a.gan Doyle's voice she heard: "One of the guards found dynamite not far from the bathhouse. In the forest just below it." "One of the guards found dynamite not far from the bathhouse. In the forest just below it."

She was looking at that forest.

What was the real reason Harrison Carter had been down there? Had he told her the truth or had he spoken lies? Was it possible Morgan was right about the commissioner?

She looped the reins around the dash rail and climbed out of the buggy. "I won't be long, Shakespeare," she said, giving the horse a pat on the neck. Then she picked her way down the slope to the creek.

The water was shallow near the bend, slipping and splashing over smooth stones that lined the bottom of the creek. Any other time she would have stopped to remove her shoes and stockings. But now curiosity pushed her across the stream without taking the time to do so. Once on the other side, it didn't take too long to find a narrow trail leading into the forest. She followed it, going from bright light to deep shadows in seconds. A few more steps and she was forced to stop to give her eyes time to adjust.

The air smelled of moss and pine and blew cool upon her skin. Dried needles crunched beneath her feet as she moved deeper into the woods. Sometimes the trail became indistinct, and Gwen had to guess which way was north.

If Gwen was nowhere in town - and she wasn't; he'd looked everywhere - Morgan realized she must have gone for a drive in her buggy. If she'd only meant to go to his home or to the munic.i.p.al building, she would have walked instead of hitching her horse to the buggy. Perhaps she'd gone to her father's ranch.

Morgan set out in his automobile to do the same. But when he reached the bridge over the river, something nudged him to head north instead. It made no rational sense, yet the impulse wouldn't be ignored. It was the same sort of feeling that had brought him to Idaho to build New Hope - that belief that G.o.d was directing him. Only this time it felt urgent.

He pressed hard on the accelerator with his right hand and drove toward New Hope. Ten minutes later, he saw Gwen's horse and buggy standing on the side of the road, Shakespeare doing his best to find shoots of gra.s.s to nibble on. Gwen was nowhere in sight.

Remembering the horse's distrust of automobiles, he braked to a halt while still a good distance away and killed the engine. Then he hopped over the side of the car and hurried forward. Shakespeare was startled by his approach but only tossed his head and took a few steps forward.

"Easy, boy. Easy." He took hold of the reins close to the bit. "Gwen! Where are you?" He heard nothing in reply.

Why would she have left Shakespeare here? Had he pulled up lame? Morgan led the horse forward. No sign of a limp.

"Gwen!"

Silence.

He turned in a circle, and that was when he saw a lady's handkerchief caught in some brush halfway down the slope. He moved toward it and picked it up. The delicate fabric was embroidered with the initials G. A. G. A.

Gwen.

His eyes searched the area once again and he realized where he was. If a person wanted to reach the New Hope bathhouse without being seen, this would be the way - right through the dense forest in front of him. Gwen must have realized the same thing.

He sprinted the rest of the way down the slope and crossed the creek in a few long jumps, water splashing up to dampen his trouser legs.

Gwen felt something poke her back between the shoulder blades a second before a man said, "Hold it right there."

She caught her breath.

"Lady, what're you doing here?"

This couldn't be one of Morgan's men. Anyone in Morgan's employ wouldn't put a gun to a woman's back. Heart racing, she said, "I... I'm here for information."

"What kind of information?"

"For the... for the story I'm writing for the newspaper."

The man moved to stand before her, the gun now pointed at her chest. She didn't know him, had never seen him before. He was short in stature and looked more like a banker than someone who would blow up a building. But something in his eyes, even through his spectacles, told her he would not hesitate to use the weapon if provoked.