FIVE.

"'We shall see, Miss Arlington,'" Gwen muttered as she turned slices of bacon in the skillet with a fork. "'We shall surely see.'" She sniffed. "Yes, we shall, Mr. McKinley."

She'd slept little during the night, her thoughts turning again and again to her brief meeting with Morgan McKinley at the restaurant. The best part about it had been his surprise when he learned who she was. Whatever he'd expected in his opponent, it wasn't her. That pleased her, for it meant he'd been thrown off guard when Nathan introduced her. She wanted to keep him that way.

She took a plate from the cupboard and eating utensils from the sideboard and set them on the counter. Returning to the stove, she scooped the bacon from the skillet, drained off the extra grease, then scrambled an egg in the center of the pan.

Morgan McKinley's most striking feature, Gwen thought now, were his eyes. Such a dark brown they were. Almost black. He also had strong features - high forehead, long nose, angled jaw - and there was something about his mouth that made her think he must smile often. It was a handsome smile, to be sure.

Of course, this a.n.a.lysis of his appearance was merely so she might best him in the election. She had to weigh his pros and cons. Knowing his good looks might increase his appeal, especially among women voters, was something she had to expect and overcome.

She carried her breakfast plate to the table and sat down in her accustomed chair. Bowing her head and closing her eyes, she silently asked the Lord's blessing on her meal, then added a request for wisdom for the day.

"And confidence, Lord," she whispered. "Keep me confident."

When Nathan had sat at Morgan's table yesterday, a chill had shot through Gwen. Nathan had promised to back her in the election, but that had been before Morgan declared his candidacy. Now she wondered if the newspaperman had changed his mind. If so, running for office could be an exercise in futility.

"Lord, don't let me waver or begin to fear. Please guide my words and my steps."

She inhaled deeply and reminded herself that the election wouldn't be over until it was over. Until then, she would do all she could to ensure that she won.

The first item on the day's agenda was to go to the paper and speak to Nathan. Even if he chose to back another candidate, he was still a fair journalist. He would want to interview her, get her opinions on matters of interest to the voters of Bethlehem Springs. And he would want her to place advertis.e.m.e.nts in his paper as well.

Gwen finished eating her breakfast, washed the dishes, and then went into her bedroom to dress for the day. From her wardrobe, she chose a rather austere brown and white dress and a pair of brown shoes. After sweeping her hair atop her head and fastening it with pins, she covered it with a short-brimmed straw hat. She wanted her appearance to speak for her: intelligent, businesslike, serious, able to lead. She thought she'd succeeded.

With another quick prayer for G.o.d to go before her, she set off for the center of town.

Morgan was headed for the newspaper office when he saw Gwen Arlington approach from the opposite direction. He stopped to observe her just as she paused to speak to a mother and child on the sidewalk. After a brief exchange with the woman, Gwen leaned down to address the child. A moment later, her laughter carried to him on the breeze.

An angelic sound.

The thought alarmed him. He didn't want to be derailed by her laughter or her beauty. He had work to accomplish. Besides, Morgan had learned the hard way that external beauty often didn't translate into beauty of the soul. His personal "hard way" was named Yvette Dutetre. Exquisite, pa.s.sionate, emotional Yvette. His former fiancee. She'd loved his money more than him, and when she betrayed him the hurt had gone deep.

He pushed the memories away as he resumed walking. That was all long ago and mattered not at all to him now.

The scent of ink and dust greeted him when he entered the newspaper office a few moments later. Nathan Patterson sat at a desk littered with paper and books, a pair of gla.s.ses perched on his nose, reading copy and scribbling notes to himself in the margins.

Nathan held up the index finger of his left hand without looking up. "Just give me a second."

"No hurry."

"Oh, Mr. McKinley." He set down his nub of a pencil. "Sorry. I was expecting my wife. What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to discuss my candidacy for mayor, how I might best reach the citizens of Bethlehem Springs."

The newspaperman rose from his chair. "I'll be glad to discuss different options, but you should know - " He broke off as the door opened again.

Morgan looked over his shoulder, thinking he was about to meet Nathan's wife. Instead he saw Gwen Arlington standing in the doorway. He removed his hat. "Good morning, Miss Arlington."

"Mr. McKinley." Her tone made it clear she wasn't thrilled to see him there.

"I take it we have both come to the Daily Herald Daily Herald for the same purpose. Our campaigns?" for the same purpose. Our campaigns?"

Gwen shifted her gaze from Morgan to Nathan. "I'll come back at another time."

"Wait," Nathan said, stopping her departure. "Come in and sit down. Both of you. Please."

Her obvious determination to avoid looking at Morgan again caused him to smile. Beauty she might have, but she didn't try to use it to disarm him. He liked that about her.

Gwen walked past him, head held high, shoulders back. She sat in one of the two chairs opposite the editor's desk. Morgan sat in the other.

"All right," Nathan said. "Here's how it's going to be. Mr. McKinley, I told Miss Arlington that the paper would back her candidacy if she ran against Tattersall. When I told her that, I never dreamed, after all the weeks leading up to the deadline to declare, that we would end up with three candidates."

Morgan cast a sideways glance at Gwen. The slightest hint of a smile was curving the corners of her mouth. Well, he supposed she had a right to smile, but she hadn't won yet.

"A promise is a promise." Nathan sat again. "Miss Arlington, I don't mean to go back on my word. However, even you must admit that things are different now. I want to give you and Mr. McKinley a fair shake, so here's what I intend. I'll give both of you - and Tattersall, too, if he wants it - s.p.a.ce in the paper to discuss your platforms and what you think the mayor should be doing for Bethlehem Springs over the next four years. And then we'll do a comparison interview with me calling the shots."

That hint of a smile slipped from Gwen's lips. Morgan knew she had to be disappointed by this turn. He, on the other hand, couldn't be more pleased. It meant he wouldn't begin his campaign with the newspaper already aligned against him. He believed he could trust Nathan Patterson to be fair.

"If in the week just prior to the election it appears you two are in a dead heat and splitting the vote might allow Tattersall to win, then I will endorse whoever I believe is the strongest candidate."

"Sounds fair enough," Morgan said.

Leaning forward, his forearms resting on the cluttered surface of his desk, Nathan looked at Gwen. "I know that isn't what you were hoping for, Miss Arlington. Not even what you expected. But this I promise you: I will be fair and will remain open minded throughout the campaign. What I want most is for the person who'll be the better mayor to win. I believe that is what you must want as well."

Gwen's posture was ramrod straight. "Do you think Mr. McKinley would make the better mayor?" you think Mr. McKinley would make the better mayor?"

"Not at this time." Nathan smiled slightly as he shook his head. "I believe it's up to you to win or lose the election."

"I agree. And I intend to win." She stood. "Thank you, Mr. Patterson." She turned, her gaze meeting with Morgan's. "Good day."

Morgan didn't move from his chair until he heard the door open. Then he felt compelled to rise and go after her. "Miss Arlington," he called as he stepped onto the sidewalk. "May I have a moment more of your time?"

She took three additional steps before she stopped, hesitated, then turned to face him. "If you wish."

"I hope you feel Mr. Patterson's decision is a fair one."

"Yes." She took a deep breath and released it. "I suppose it is, given the circ.u.mstances."

"You must understand I didn't know you would be my opponent when I decided to run for mayor."

"How could you have known?" Gwen tipped her head to one side. Her blue eyes studied him. "Why are are you running, Mr. McKinley? You've only lived in the area for a year or so, and even then you've spent almost no time in town. What makes you think you know what will be good for the citizens of Bethlehem Springs when you've kept yourself a stranger?" you running, Mr. McKinley? You've only lived in the area for a year or so, and even then you've spent almost no time in town. What makes you think you know what will be good for the citizens of Bethlehem Springs when you've kept yourself a stranger?"

"That's a good question. One I plan to address when I write my piece for the newspaper."

"But you don't want to tell me your answer now."

"Well" - he shrugged his shoulders - "you are are my opponent in this election, Miss Arlington. There's no point giving you more advantages than you already enjoy." my opponent in this election, Miss Arlington. There's no point giving you more advantages than you already enjoy."

"It's wise of you not to underestimate me, sir, for I intend to use every advantage at my disposal."

"I never underestimate my opposition."

"Not even when the opposition is a woman?"

Morgan couldn't help himself. He laughed. "Especially not when the opposition is a woman." not when the opposition is a woman."

Gwen fought the urge to smile. She wouldn't fall victim to this man's attempts to appear friendly. He didn't fool her. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. McKinley, I really should be going."

"Of course." Still grinning, he tipped his hat to her. "Good day to you, Miss Arlington. I believe the next few weeks shall prove quite interesting for us both."

It struck her then that as much as she disliked him, he had a certain charisma, an obvious charm. It was possible he could use it to best her in the election. She would have to remain wary and alert. She would have to remind others that he'd made no attempt to become part of the community until he wanted to win an election. How did they even know he would stay in Bethlehem Springs once his resort was completed? He had no ties here, and from all she'd heard about his wealth, he could go anywhere in the world. Why should they believe he would settle in Bethlehem Springs?

No, he was not someone to be trusted, and she would not not lose this election to him. So help her, she wouldn't. lose this election to him. So help her, she wouldn't.

SIX.

Crinkled sheets of paper cluttered the table and the floor around Gwen's feet. For more than an hour, she'd tried to write her article for the newspaper - the one that would explain what she hoped to accomplish as mayor. Everything she penned sounded... well, silly.

With a groan of frustration, she rose and began to pace from dining room to parlor and back again, hands clasped behind her back.

"Maybe I won't make a good mayor," she said aloud.

"Of course you will."

Gwen looked up to find Cleo standing in the back doorway.

"I'm here to help." Her sister swept off her dusty hat and hung it on the coat rack near the door. "Just tell me what you need."

Gwen lifted her hands in a gesture of confusion - or was it despair? "I don't know what I need, Cleo, but I'm certainly glad you've come."

The sisters embraced.

Looking over Gwen's shoulder at the dining room table, Cleo asked, "What's all that?"

"I'm trying to write something for the Daily Herald Daily Herald." Gwen stepped back from her sister. "Mr. Patterson is going to run an article written by each of the candidates. It's my best chance to state the reasons why I would make the better mayor, but everything I write sounds so... so trite."

"I reckon you're trying too hard."

Gwen sighed. "Maybe I don't have any good reasons. Maybe I'm kidding myself, thinking I'd be a good mayor. Maybe the town doesn't need me after all."

"You've got plenty of reasons, and you're not kidding yourself. You're needed, all right."

"Once the citizens of this town get to know Mr. McKinley, I may not stand a chance."

"I swan." Cleo made an unladylike sound in her throat. "What twaddle are you spouting, Gwennie?"

Gwen sank onto one of the high-backed chairs at the table. "He has a kind of charisma. He's well spoken, well dressed, and he has... I don't know... He's so sure of himself."

"You don't say." Cleo sat down across from Gwen. "Sounds like you've had a chance to talk with him some since you met him on the road."

"Mr. Patterson introduced us at the South Fork Restaurant on Thursday night, but we didn't say much more than h.e.l.lo." Not counting when I warned him I meant to trounce him in the election. Not counting when I warned him I meant to trounce him in the election. She picked up a pencil and began to sketch flowers on a sheet of paper. "Yesterday we met again at the newspaper." She remembered the sound of his laughter when he told her he didn't intend to underestimate her. Even now she felt the sound deep in her soul. She picked up a pencil and began to sketch flowers on a sheet of paper. "Yesterday we met again at the newspaper." She remembered the sound of his laughter when he told her he didn't intend to underestimate her. Even now she felt the sound deep in her soul.

Cleo tipped her chair onto its hind legs. "Hmm."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing." She brought the chair down again. "Just letting you know I'm listening."

"Thanks," Gwen said, disheartened. It was nice to have a sympathetic ear, but what she needed were ideas. Lots and lots of ideas.

Cleo stood. "Let's take a walk."

"I don't have time for a walk. I need to work on this article."

"No." Her sister rounded the table and took hold of her arm, drawing her to her feet. "You need to take a walk."

"Cleo - "

"No argument, baby sister."

Gwen rolled her eyes. Cleo was the older twin by only ten minutes but loved to pretend it was more than that. "Don't bully me, big sister," she returned, feeling her spirits lighten a little.

"Put on one of those pretty hats you like to wear, and let's take us a stroll. The weather's fine. Doesn't come any finer."

Gwen knew that look on Cleo's face. Nothing would change her sister's mind. Cleo was like a dog with a bone when she got like this.

"Come on, Gwennie."

"You win. I'm coming."

Once the sisters were outside - Gwen wearing a pale straw hat decorated with a blue grosgrain ribbon, Cleo wearing her dusty brown Stetson - Cleo linked arms with Gwen and turned her left onto Wallula Street and then right onto Shenandoah.

"You know, sis," Cleo said, breaking the easy silence. "When you first came to Idaho, I never thought you'd stay. You were so educated, so refined and cultured and all. But I was wrong. You love this place."

"Yes, I do."

"It isn't perfect, but it's ours."