Part 16 (2/2)

”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 relations.h.i.+p 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 das.h.i.+ng figure in a silk top hat.

Das.h.i.+ng. That was a good description. Morgan was, indeed, das.h.i.+ng.

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?”

<script>