When Merielle shut the door behind the gunfighter, Trahern joined his daughter. "You're looking very pretty. What's the occasion?" he asked.

"Have you forgotten? I'm going on a picnic this afternoon with my new friend, Patch."

"I had forgotten. Where are you planning to have this picnic?"

"Somewhere along the river, where it's shady and cool."

Trahern looked at his precious child and debated the wisdom of letting her go off alone with that Kendrick woman. He knew it was unreasonable to deny her the pleasure of going, simply because he would worry about her while she was gone. He decided the best solution was to send someone along to keep an eye on her. "What would you think about taking Frank along on this picnic?"

Merielle smiled brightly. "Why, what a wonderful idea, Father! I'll go ask him now."

When Patch arrived in a buggy with Boyd at her side and a picnic basket under her feet, she found Merielle waiting on the front steps with Frank beside her.

Merielle looked like a flower in springtime. She was wearing a yellow gingham dress, with short, puffy sleeves trimmed in eyelet lace. A wide-brimmed straw hat banded with matching yellow gingham was tied with a large bow at her chin.

In contrast, Patch looked more like the cool moss that draped the live oaks. Not that she wasn't dressed well, just more sedately. She wore a pleated white cotton blouse and a moss green skirt of st.u.r.dy bombazine, something she knew would be comfortable and durable for an afternoon spent sitting on the ground. Seeing how lovely Merielle looked, Patch wished she had been less practical.

"Frank's going with us," Merielle said. "I hope that's all right with you."

"And I invited Boyd," Patch replied. "I hope that's all right with you."

Merielle glanced quickly at Boyd and then back at Patch. "I guess it's okay."

Frank helped Merielle up into the buggy he had harnessed for the two of them. "Follow us," he said. "Merielle has a spot all picked out."

Patch laughed when she realized Frank had driven straight to the cave. "I was just here this morning with Ethan," she confessed to Boyd. "I can't say I'm sorry to be back. It's a wonderful place."

They chose a shady spot under an elm and began unloading the picnic supplies from the buggy, including a jug of cold lemonade. Patch had brought a quilt, which they spread on the ground to make it harder for the ants to get to the food.

Patch noticed that Merielle shied away from Boyd when he came in her direction and clutched Frank's arm.

"Shall we eat now, or later?" Frank asked.

"Can we go for a walk along the river first?" Merielle asked.

"Why don't you and Frank go for a walk, while Boyd and I finishing setting out the food?" Patch saw the grateful look on Frank's face. She had seen how he watched Merielle from afar with his heart in his eyes. It couldn't hurt to give them some time alone together. That would also give her the opportunity to get to know Ethan's best friend better. It was important that she make it clear to Boyd that she wasn't interested in being anything but his friend. Hopefully, she could spend time with Merielle after lunch while the men went down to the river to fish.

"Enjoy yourselves," Patch said. "Come back when you get hungry."

Merielle was already chattering to Frank as he led her away. "Do you think it would be all right if I took off my shoes and stockings and walked barefoot along the river?"

"I don't know, Merielle-"

"It would be so much fun, Frank. Do you remember how we used to spend hours sitting on the bank, letting the fish nibble at our toes?"

Frank stared hard at Merielle. "You remember that?" he asked sharply.

She smiled up at him, apparently unaware that her recollection of the past had any special significance. "Of course I do. I remember lots of things."

"Like what?"

"First you have to promise to take off your boots and socks and join me," she teased.

"All right. I promise," Frank said with a grin that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"I love the way you look when you smile," Merielle said.

Frank didn't know what to say. He wasn't used to compliments from Merielle, especially not the kind that a woman gave to a man. It made him uncomfortable, and he had to struggle to keep the smile on his face. Somehow, for her sake, he succeeded.

They had reached the riverbank, where Merielle plopped down on a rotting log and pulled her skirt up to her knees so she could get to the laces on her shoes.

"Let me help you." Frank went down on one knee and took her tiny foot in his hand. He felt her resist and looked up to rea.s.sure her that he wasn't going to hurt her. There was a stunned look on her face, and he wondered what she was thinking.

"Merielle?"

"Frank?" Merielle stared at the handsome man who knelt at her feet. She couldn't remember a time when Frank hadn't been near. Yet, it was as though she were seeing him for the first time. It was confusing because she expected him to look younger. This face was more mature, weathered by age and sun, and there was a shadow of a beard where before there had been none. His hair was thick and dark, and somehow she knew how it would feel under her hands.

Merielle slipped Frank's hat off without asking for permission and set it on the log beside her. She traced the line of his jaw and felt him swallow. She tried to make the person before her match the image in her mind.

"You're so much older," she murmured.

Frank felt his heart leap with hope. "It's been a long time since I've seen you, Merielle."

She looked down into his eyes. "Where have you been, Frank?"

"Right here," he whispered through a throat swollen with joy. "Waiting for you to come back to me."

Merielle laughed. "That's silly. I haven't gone anywhere. Hurry up, Frank, and unlace my shoes. I want to go play in the water."

Merielle was gone again and the child was back. Frank concentrated on unlacing her shoes, and watched her rip off her stockings with a childlike lack of modesty that only endeared her to him.

"Hurry up, Frank," she urged. "Take off your boots and socks and come play with me."

Frank forced himself back into the role of protective older brother. He would be for her what she needed him to be. Once Frank was barefoot he took her hand, and they ran down toward the water. At the very edge, Merielle stopped abruptly.

"Do you think it's cold?"

"Like ice," he said.

She grinned. "Good!" She leaned over and splashed a handful of water right in his face. Then she ran.

Frank caught her up in his arms and swung her around in a dizzying circle.

She laughed like a child, but she felt like a woman in his arms. He stopped and stared down at her, his heart pounding.

She looked up at him, and her eyes clouded. Her fingers threaded into his hair, and she pulled his head down toward her mouth.

"Frank, where are you?" Boyd called. "We're ready to eat."

Frank let Merielle's legs slide down the front of him until she was standing on her own. They never took their eyes off each other. Their bodies were pressed close together. He kept waiting for her to change back, to become the childlike Merielle. When she didn't, he kissed her, like a starving man who has found the sustenance that will keep him alive.

And she kissed him back. Without fear. With enthusiasm. With delight.

He broke the kiss and hugged her tight against him, hardly able to believe the miracle in his arms. "Merielle. After all these years. Finally. Merielle."

"Frank, my head hurts," she said. "It hurts so bad."

He felt her go limp. She would have fallen if he hadn't caught her. "Merielle? Merielle!"

She was unconscious.

"Boyd! Patch! Somebody! Help!" He fell to his knees with Merielle in his arms. "Somebody please help."

Patch and Boyd came on the run. It was immediately apparent that Merielle had fainted. It was not so apparent why.

Patch looked anxiously from Frank to Merielle and back again. She had stopped suspecting Frank of rape. He had seemed too attentive, too much in love with Merielle. But the situation raised her doubts again.

"What happened?" Patch asked as she dropped to the ground beside Frank.

Frank never took his eyes off Merielle. "I don't know. She said her head hurt, and then she fainted."

Boyd went down on one knee and reached across to check Merielle's pulse at her throat. "Her pulse is strong."

"Do you know what caused this to happen?" Patch asked Frank.

"She was remembering."

Patch could barely contain her excitement. "Remembering?"

"You mean she got her memory back?" Boyd demanded in a taut voice.

Frank winced under the force of Boyd's grip on his shoulder. "Not exactly. It was more like she seemed to be here, you know, not stuck in the past."

"Has this happened before?" Boyd asked.

"Not the same thing, but something similar," Frank replied. "A week or so ago she remembered a time in the far past when the two of us were together."

"I can't believe this is happening," Patch said. "I mean, I prayed for it, and I hoped for it, but ... It's like a miracle!"

Frank nodded. "It is a miracle."

Merielle's eyelids fluttered and a moan issued from her throat. When she opened her eyes, they were clouded with confusion. She looked around at the trees and the river and the three people staring anxiously down at her. Her brow furrowed in thought. "Where am I? How did I get here?"

"Don't you remember?" Frank asked in a gentle voice. "We came to the river for a picnic."

Merielle's eyes sought out Patch. "Yes. I came with my friend, Patch." Her glance slid past Boyd and back to Frank. "We went for a walk by the river. I wanted to take my shoes and stockings off and play in the water."

Frank took one of her bare feet in his hands. "So you did."

She placed her palm on Frank's cheek. "I remember splashing your face."

He smiled. "So you did."

"Then ..." She looked up at Frank. "Then ... then ... Why can't I remember any more, Frank?"

Frank tucked her head under his chin and held her close. He met Patch's somber face and Boyd's sympathetic gaze. "It's all right, Merielle. It doesn't matter."

Patch put a comforting hand on Merielle's shoulder. She felt like howling with disappointment. To get so close! And then to have the doors shut again. But if it had happened once, it might happen again. Patch couldn't help feeling optimistic.

However, from the wan aspect of Merielle's face, remembering had taken its toll on her. "Maybe we should postpone our picnic to another time," Patch suggested.

"Oh, no!" Merielle said. "I feel fine! Please, let's stay."

Patch looked to Frank to see what he thought. When he nodded she said, "All right. We'll stay. But let's go eat. I'm starving!"

After they ate, Frank settled on the blanket with a lapful of daisies that Merielle began weaving into a chain, while Patch and Boyd took a walk.

Patch had been itching to discuss Merielle's situation all through lunch but felt constrained to be silent in the young woman's presence. As soon as they were out of earshot, Patch turned to Boyd and said, "Do you know how much it will mean to Ethan if Merielle regains her memory?"

"You're a.s.suming, of course, that Ethan didn't rape Merielle," Boyd said flatly.

"Of course he didn't! You're his best friend. You of all people should know he couldn't possibly-"

Boyd held up both hands in surrender. "You win. I'm convinced Ethan is innocent." He reached out and put his hands over hers, which were perched in balled fists on her hips. "Can we talk now about something nearer and dearer to my heart?"

Patch was still bristling from Boyd's accusation of Ethan, and his ready capitulation hadn't done much to a.s.suage her wrath. "Like what?"

He gently pried her hands loose and opened them so her fingertips rested in his. "You."

Patch wasn't sure how to respond. She hesitated an instant too long, and Boyd's fingers closed over hers. He turned her hands over and lifted them one at a time to kiss her palms.

"Boyd, I ..." Patch had promised herself that if Boyd tried to kiss her again she would slap him. But she had expected him to seek out her lips, not her hands.

While she was deciding what to do, his fingertips found and caressed the calluses she had developed the past couple of weeks at Ethan's ranch. "You should have servants waiting on you, Patricia, instead of working like a mule for Ethan Hawk."

Patch's chin lifted a notch. "I happen to like working," she said in a cool voice. "It gives me a sense of satisfaction to earn my keep." Patch resisted the urge to pull her hands free. She didn't want to get in a tug-of-war with Boyd that she couldn't win.

"You're beautiful when you're angry, Patricia," Boyd said as he surveyed her flashing eyes.

"If you know I'm upset by what you're doing, why don't you stop?"

"I'm waiting for some clear sign that you don't appreciate my attentions."

Patch s.n.a.t.c.hed one hand free and slapped his face. "Is that what you had in mind?"

Boyd worked his jaw to ease the soreness and laid a hand against his reddening cheek. "That'll do."

Patch shook her head in disbelief. "Are you pixilated, possessed, or what?"