Each evening Gwen read from botany journals in the privacy of her cabin on the Black Rose, and it was her favorite part of the day. Her mind had been parched for knowledge, and now she was being drenched with a flood of insight and discovery. Why had she waited so long to do this? Her fingers literally trembled as she turned the pages, because soon she wouldn’t just be listening to other scientists talk about their work, she was going to have a chance to actually do it.

She had just started another article on the hardiness of wheat seeds exposed to frigid temperatures when a deckhand knocked on her door, announcing a visitor.

“Who is it?” she asked in confusion.

“I don’t know, but he’s down on the pier, shouting up to see you. Shall I tell him to go away?”

She shook her head. It could be someone from the college, and it might be important. She pulled on a robe to cover her nightgown and headed up to the deck.

It was dark outside, but Patrick’s tall form was easy to spot on the pier below. He was illuminated by the harbor lights that glinted on the water and lit the angry planes of his face.

“Why did you let that woman take your house?” he yelled up at her.

Seeing him again hurt. She’d been doing her best to move on from the anguish of their split, and until thirty seconds ago she had been succeeding admirably. Now he was back and wanted to talk about Vivian, of all things.

“I gave it to her,” she called down.

Patrick let out a stream of curse words that echoed over the marina. “Why?” he finally roared. “You love that house. It’s yours. Let me get it back for you.”

She stifled a laugh. “I don’t need you to get it back for me. I gave it away.”

He held up both arms in frustration. “This can’t be what you want. I’ll call down the stars and blast through every legal roadblock to get that house back for you. I’ll build a case like no one’s ever seen before. Woman, I will go to war for you. I’ll fight to the ends of the earth for you. Just tell me what you need.”

Oh, Patrick, always trying to be a savior. But that wasn’t what she needed.

“I need a man who is strong enough to stand beside a Blackstone woman without wilting,” she yelled down, and Patrick flinched. His chest caved in, and his shoulders sagged.

When he finally spoke, all the swagger was drained from his voice. “Now you’re hitting where it hurts,” he said.

“You asked; I answered.”

His shoulders straightened again. “It’s not that I’m afraid of your family. And it’s not that I don’t love you, because I do.”