Josh cleared his throat. "Are you joining us for supper?" he asked, half hoping that she would say no. Perversely, he wanted to send her back to the bedroom and lock her in, out of sight of the other men.

Felicity frowned, understanding only too clearly that he didn't want her to eat with the men and wondering if there was some reason why she shouldn't. "Yes," she said, hastily adding, "if it's all right."

"Let's eat, then," he suggested with resignation. Then, from some distant part of his memory, an image stirred of a time when life at the Rocking L had included a lady. Vaguely, he recalled his father escorting his mother into the dining room, and for once the memory brought no pain. Without bothering to question the impulse, Josh offered his guest his arm, as he had seen his father do for his mother countless times.

Felicity stared at it for a moment. Shyly, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead her the rest of the way into the dining room.

Hardly daring to let herself touch him, she rested her hand as lightly on his arm as she could and kept her eyes lowered until he had seated her in the nearest empty chair. Good heavens! Her face felt like it was on fire, and so did the rest of her. She knew it was just embarrassment at making such a spectacle of herself. It had to be.

Josh looked down at the top of her golden head as he pushed her chair in. She was such a little, innocent thing. A girl like this had no place among the rough men who populated the Rocking L, and if she stayed here, she certainly wouldn't be innocent for very long. No, Josh knew he had made a mistake, and he would rectify it as soon as he could. In a few days, whenever Blanche returned from her trip, he'd have to take her over there.

Felicity barely had time to recover her composure when one of the men set a plate of food in front of her. Glancing up, she saw Mr. Logan helping himself from serving bowls placed on the sideboard. She already knew that the usual method of service on a ranch was every man for himself.

She turned back to her benefactor. "Oh, thank you, but you don't need to wait on me!" she assured him.

The man, who she vaguely recalled was named Gus, grinned and told her it was his pleasure, drawing a series of moaning taunts from the other men for his trouble. Felicity looked down the long table where Mr. Logan was just taking his seat. He gave Gus a disapproving look but said nothing.

Felicity noticed that the other men had already gobbled up half their meals, and Mr. Logan wasted no time in digging into his own.

Felicity watched in surprise for a moment and then said, "Excuse me."

Every movement abruptly ceased and all eyes turned, once again, expectantly to her.

She stammered, "Is… isn't anyone going to ask the blessing?"

Stunned silence greeted her question.

Josh didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused. He tried to recall the last time a meal at the Rocking L had been prayed over, and could not. When it became increasingly apparent that no one was going to be able to eat until today's meal had been, however, Josh shrugged resignedly. "Maybe you'd like to do it, Felicity," he suggested.

She really preferred not to, of course, but obviously no one else was about to volunteer. Primly, she folded her hands, closed her eyes, and bowed her head. "Thank you, Lord, for the bounty of this table. Bless the food to the nourishment of our bodies and bless the hands that prepared it. Amen," she said, reciting words that were as natural and familiar to her as breathing.

When she lifted her head, she was startled to note that she was the only one who had bowed for the prayer. Everyone else was simply staring at her, waiting. Honestly, didn't they have anything better to do than stare at her? "Amen," she repeated loudly, and reached for her fork.

"Smells like Cookie made something worth praying over tonight," someone remarked as the men resumed their eating.

"Yeah, and I'll bet Miss Felicity had something to do with it, too," Grady commented, giving her a sly smile.

Felicity looked up, surprised that they had guessed her secret so quickly, but then Cody said, "Cookie never bakes fancy stuff when it's just us. Maybe we ought to think about keeping Miss Felicity around permanent."

Felicity gave him a small smile to acknowledge his compliment. She did not notice Mr. Logan's second frown of disapproval.

Since custom prohibited conversation during meals, no one spoke again until everyone had finished eating. Then they waited expectantly as Cookie carried out the pies.

"Come and get 'em," he called.

The men made a dash for the sideboard, where Cookie had set the pies. Felicity couldn't help but smile to notice that every man claimed an entire pie for himself. Some of them simply dug in with a fork, while others took the time to slice theirs and pick up each individual piece to devour it.

"You outdid yourself this time, Cookie," Grady declared when he had disposed of his first piece. The others readily concurred.

The cook grunted sourly. "I never had nothing to do with them pies. Miss Felicity made them."

A moment of silence greeted this announcement, and then the room exploded with compliments and reaffirmations that they were all very glad indeed that Miss Felicity had come to visit.

Shyly, she lifted her gaze to where Mr. Logan sat, but when her eyes met his, her heart sank down to her shoes. He wasn't pleased. He wasn't pleased at all.

As Josh listened to the men raving over Felicity, his expression grew grimmer and grimmer. Even the pie-which was, he admitted grudgingly, the best he'd ever had-began to taste like sawdust as he watched them mooning over her. As delicious as the pie was, he knew she'd be a much sweeter morsel, and he guessed the rest of them knew it, too. At least none of them would pass up an opportunity to find out.

After what seemed like hours, the men finally finished off every last crumb of the pies. Ordinarily, at this point they would have adjourned to the front porch for a smoke, but today no one was about to move from the room as long as Miss Felicity was in it. Felicity picked at her pie, trying not to feel unnerved at the attention she was getting. After a few moments of hemming and hawing, Cody Wells, who had managed to claim the seat to her immediate right, thought of something to say to break the silence.

"Your wagon… it said you're a photographer," he ventured.

Felicity looked up. "Yes… that is, my father was," she admitted reluctantly, not wanting to pursue the subject of her late father.

As if sensing her wishes, he skirted that topic. "Do you know how to make pictures, too?" he asked hopefully.

Josh almost snorted at the idea of such a thing. "Don't be ridic-"

"Yes, I do," Felicity replied simultaneously, silencing Josh.

"I've always wanted to get my picture made," Cody reflected to no one in particular, and several of the other men chimed in with "Me, too."

Felicity glanced around the table. The men were perfectly sincere and pathetically eager in their enthusiasm. The tiny seed of an idea that she had been nursing began to sprout. Here was a perfect way to earn some money with which to repay Mr. Logan. He obviously didn't like the idea of her in his kitchen. "I'd be happy to make your pictures," Felicity said, eliciting whoops of pleasure from the men.

Felicity once again lifted her eyes to meet Mr. Logan's across the table. Her breath caught at the intensity of that silver gaze. Unable to quite read his expression, she knew a shivering unease at the thought that he might not approve this plan either. "That is, if Mr. Logan says it's all right," she amended.

"Don't be pestering her, boys. She's had a hard time of it, and she needs some rest," he said, effectively dousing everyone's enthusiasm.

"They aren't pestering me!" Felicity objected, but the sight of Mr. Logan's frown silenced her further protests. She swallowed the irritation that was rapidly building into anger over his interference in her idea and forced a placating smile to her lips. "I really don't mind. It's the least I can do after all you've done for me. This is such a fine-looking ranch, you really ought to have some photographs of it to have for your grandchildren to see," she said, repeating something her father had often said to convince reluctant customers. Of course, she didn't know if Mr. Logan even had any grandchildren or whether he ever hoped to have any, but it was an argument she knew to be effective. Mr. Logan didn't look all that convinced, though.

He wasn't, but mention of his future grandchildren struck a responsive chord. "Well, if you want to…" he said, a little reluctantly.

"Oh, I do," she assured him.

"How about tomorrow," someone suggested eagerly.

"No, I gotta wash my good shirt…" someone else objected.

"Wait a minute!" Josh silenced them. "You men have work to do tomorrow, and besides, Miss Felicity is still recovering. I think Saturday would be soon enough."

Felicity, who wasn't sure exactly what day it was today, asked, "How soon is that?"

"Day after tomorrow," Cody Wells told her, and from his expression she knew he was far from pleased about it.

Understanding his disappointment, she comforted him. "I have to check my chemicals anyway. I may need to get some fresh supplies before I can do the pictures. And we'll need to move my wagon to the ranch," she added, suddenly remembering that important detail.

"We'll fetch it tomorrow," Cody offered with puppylike eagerness. "The ground should be plenty dry by then."

Again Josh dampened everyone's enthusiasm by asking, "How much do you charge for making someone's picture?"

"Fifty cents a picture," she said, a little chagrined at having to discuss her fees so publicly. Naturally, she would never accept money from Mr. Logan.

From their murmurs, the men thought her price more than fair. For a few minutes the men discussed possible poses and the clothes they would wear, until Josh blandly suggested that the meal was over and Cookie might be wanting to clean up. Reluctantly, the men began to rise and carry their dirty dishes to the wreck pan by the kitchen door and make their way out of the room.

As he passed by where Felicity still sat, Cody Wells leaned over with a happy smile and said, "I'm real glad you'll be staying at least until Saturday, and not just for the pictures, either."

At any other time, Felicity would have blushed at such a flirtatious remark, but this time she hardly registered Cody's implied meaning. His words about her staying at least until Saturday had lodged in her mind, stirring up all sorts of unpleasant images.

Very soon she would have to decide where she would go when she left the Rocking L Ranch. For so long she had had just one goal, to get to civilization, to where other people were who could help her. Now that she was here, she suddenly realized that her problems were just beginning. Where was she going to go now? Not even one possibility came to mind, and Felicity found the blankness of that future horrifying.

She barely even noticed when some of the other men made parting remarks along the same lines as Cody's, and she only nodded absently in response.

"Felicity?"

Felicity looked up to where Mr. Logan still sat at the head of the table. The rest of the men had gone, and the two of them were now alone in the room. She waited expectantly.

Josh fought the urge to wince at the vulnerability reflected in those enormous blue eyes. He was a fool to keep her here. If he had a lick of sense, he'd be trying to think of someplace besides Blanche's to take her instead of planning activities for her here. "Felicity, we need to talk," Josh said, rising from his chair.

Felicity waited, watching as he moved toward her. He was so tall, so forbidding, and she felt her heart racing in her chest. What was he going to talk to her about? Nothing good, she knew, not from the way he had been glaring at her all during the meal.

She tried to meet his gaze as he lowered himself into the chair that Cody had earlier vacated. His grim expression did little to reassure her.

"Have you thought about where you're going to go and what you're going to do now?" Josh asked after a few seconds of silence.

Felicity shook her head.

"Well," he continued, with forced heartiness, "you must have some family, some relatives someplace. We could contact them and-"

"I don't have any family," she said.

"But you must," Josh insisted. "An aunt or uncle? Cousins?"

Felicity shook her head again. "No one. My mother died about ten years ago. If she or Papa had any relatives, I don't know about them, and now that Papa is…" Her voice quivered and she paused a moment. "Now there's no one," she concluded simply.