During the days at the ranch I was able to keep thoughts of Lily at bay, deliberately concentrating on other things. But at night, with no other distractions, images of her filled my mind, and my regret at what I had done roared up as if to suffocate me. I also wondered how Aidan was. Did he think of me at all, and if he did, had his anger and disappointment with me softened?

Every day I peppered Mayflower with questions about Lily. Had she seen her? How was she doing? She answered that she hadn’t seen her at all. She had heard that Aidan had brought her back to Dallas and was considering putting her in school in the fall. I winced. If she went to school, she would no longer need a governess. My final hope of one day going back to her would be shattered.

“I saw Aidan today,” Mayflower announced one day. “He was looking darned puny. Worried sick about Lily; says she’s not been eating, and she’s stopped talking again.” She paused and gave me a knowing look. “I know you’ve been wanting to ask about him as well as Lily, but you haven’t had the gumption.”

I said nothing.

“Anyway, you can see him for yourself,” she continued. “He’s coming here for our annual Fourth of July barbecue this Saturday. And he’s bringing Lily.”

Later, in my room, I lay down on the bed, not even bothering to undress. News that Aidan was coming to the ranch should have put me over the moon, but instead, I was miserable. How was I ever to face him? How was I going to look into his eyes and see the reproach there? I couldn’t. I would have to find a way to avoid him, even if I had to leave the ranch.

* * *

But there was no time to come up with a plan before Saturday arrived. I wasn’t ready to face Aidan, so I pretended I was sick. Mayflower saw right through me and ordered me to get up. Reluctantly, I rose and dressed in my riding clothes; Mayflower had said we’d be riding over to the barbecue. When I came down to the parlor, Mayflower was wearing a long, silk dress with lace edging and a matching hat.

“B-but I thought we were riding,” I said, looking down at myself.

Mayflower waved her hand. “Pay it no mind, Delia—some ranchers like to dress up for barbecues—it’s often the only time we see one another during the year, and the young’uns like to impress one another. And it’s expected that the hostess should gussy herself up as well.” She smoothed out her dress. “I’d much rather be dressed like you are, but it wouldn’t be considered proper, and I’d be gossiped about for a year.”

“You look lovely, my dear,” said Hans, and Mayflower beamed.