She’d turned down several proposals, both here and in Washington. Even James Whittier, her best friend’s husband, had offered for her several years ago. Now James and Fiona—deliriously in love with each other—were the parents of a beautiful baby girl. Myrna Whittier was only a few weeks old, and already she promised to be an auburn-haired, green-eyed beauty like her mother. If Rachel had accepted James’s offer, would she be happy now? Would she have found what she’d been waiting for? Had it been there staring her in the face all the time and she too blind to see it? No. Had she missed her chance by leaving Washington? Was that where she was to have found it? No. She was surprised by the sudden certainty that filled her. It made no sense to feel that way. What could possibly happen to her, stuck away out here on her brother-in-law’s ranch? If she didn’t want to marry one of her gentlemen callers, what else lay in store for her than to stay here, caring for Maggie and Tucker’s children, attending the theater, supporting the charities? She shook her head and walked back toward the dining room, pausing by the window and staring across the yard toward the river.

Bed sheets fluttered in the golden September sunlight. Tucker’s old hound dog lay in the shade of a tall poplar, his tail intermittently slapping the dried grass. Life is passing me by, she thought desolately, and there’s nothing I can do about it. She sighed again, the sound seeming to fill the empty house with its loneliness and futility. Was this it? Had she been wrong in thinking there was more in store for her? Was she resigned to let things continue this way forever? No, she wasn’t. Perhaps she’d been wrong to wait for something to happen to her. Perhaps she had to get out and make it happen. Her heart began to race as she turned away from the window. Her gaze fell upon the folded newspaper lying on the shiny oak table. That was it! Teaching. How better to make a difference in the world than to share all the wonderful things she’d learned, first in school and then under professor Abraham Fielding’s tutelage? And who better to share it with than children who lived far from a school? Rachel crossed the dining room with several quick steps and picked up the paper. Her eyes returned quickly to the brief notice in a lower corner of the page. Wanted: Governess and teacher for two young girls on remote mountain ranch. Separate living quarters. Apply Mrs. Blake, Overland Hotel, after 2:00 PM Friday. She was good with children. She’d helped Maggie with all her nieces and nephews. She certainly knew about living on a ranch. She’d lived on this one since coming to Idaho when she was six. She was qualified to teach, having completed her education in the best finishing school back East, not to mention the years she’d lived with the professor and his family. It would definitely be a complete and total change from the vacuous life she was living now. Did she dare even consider it? Rachel tossed the paper back onto the table as she spun around and swept resolutely out of the dining room. Drucilla Blake awakened slowly from her nap. On days like this, when she wasn’t feeling any pain, it was hard to believe she was dying. She felt tired was all. Very, very tired. She pushed herself up on the pillows, then swept her graying brown hair back from her face as she looked at the watch pinned to the bodice of her dress. One-fifteen. She would have to get freshened up if she was to be ready to meet people at two. A cold feeling suddenly engulfed her chest. She closed her eyes, her fingers still clutching the watch. What if no one came? What if they came and no one was right? It was so important to find the right person. Not just for Sabrina and Petula, but for Gavin too. He had given so much already, and when she was gone, he would still be giving. Dru relaxed her fingers and allowed her hand to fall to her side. It wasn’t right what she’d done. When that old sawbones first told her she was sick and dying, she should have left. She should have taken the children and gone. But where? Where was it she could have gone? Her heart and home were both in Idaho’s mountain country. There wasn’t anywhere else she could go—or anywhere else she wanted to spend what time was left to her. She filled her lungs with a deep breath, then straightened and dropped her legs over the side of the bed. She had no time for feeling sorry for herself. She had come to terms with her illness long ago. She knew Gavin would love and care for the children. She had only this one last detail to take care of and then she would be able to go in peace. Dru rose from the bed and walked toward the bureau. She glanced into the mirror as she picked up the hair brush. She tried not to look at her reflection. Doing so depressed her. She looked far older than her thirty-five years. She ran a hasty brush over her hair, then tucked the graying tresses into a bun at the nape before turning away. She looked presentable, she supposed. That was the best she could hope for. She opened the door to the small sitting room adjoining the bedroom. Gavin was standing at the window, looking down at the busy street below. she paused a moment to look at him. His black hair was shaggy around his shirt collar, badly in need of trimming. She should have seen to that before they left the basin. He turned at the sound of her entrance.

“Did you sleep?” he asked. She nodded.

“Are you hungry?”

“No,” she responded softly.

“I don’t think I could eat anything yet.”

“You barely touched your breakfast.” It was a tender admonishment. Dru simply shook her head and turned toward a nearby chair. She hated to see that look in his gray eyes. It made her feel guilty for all she had put him through, all she had yet to put him through. It wasn’t right that she’d saddled him with her troubles.

“I wonder what the girls are doing this afternoon,” she said, her tone

light and cheerful. Gavin knew her well enough not to press the subject of food any longer. Instead, he moved away from the window, walking with that loose-limbed stride of his, and sat on the small divan across from her.

“Probably out riding with Stubs. They ought to have the cows rounded up by the time we get back.”

“I wish we didn’t have to leave the basin so soon.” Dru imagined the majestic peaks of the rugged Sawtooth Mountains and the log house that lay in their shadows. A strong longing returned to her breast. She didn’t need a doctor to know she wouldn’t see another spring there. Gavin leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees.

“Dru, I want you to see the doctor before we leave Boise.” She offered a faint smile.

“Don’t, Gavin. We both know it won’t make any difference.” Before he could say anything more, they were interrupted by a knock. Dru’s eyes snapped toward the door. Her pulse quickened.

“They’re early,” she whispered, then silently added, Dear God, please bring the right woman.

Chapter Two

Standing beside the buggy, Rachel ran the palms of her hands over her blue-and-white striped skirt. She looked across the street at the Overland Hotel, nervously imagining an interview with Mrs. Blake. The woman would no doubt send her away after just a few questions. It was probably a foolish thing to have done, coming into town in response to that advertisement. It was tempting to climb back into the buggy and turn the horse toward home but she didn’t allow herself to succumb to the temptation. She’d come to apply for the job of governess, and apply she would. Maggie would most surely proclaim Rachel mad for wanting to go off to tend somebody else’s children. If she wanted to do that, Maggie would say, she could stay at home and watch after Maggie’s five rapscallions. Which probably would make better sense than this. But Rachel wanted to do this. And the more she’d thought about it, the more she wanted it. She would be doing this on her own. She would be charting her own destiny. She wouldn’t be wasting her time any longer going to boring cotillions or listening to gossip or shopping for new clothes. She would be accomplishing something worthwhile. And she would be independent. As much as she loved Tucker and Maggie, she longed for her independence. Maggie, of all people, should understand that. Quickly, Rachel wrapped the reins around the hitching rail, absently patted the gelding’s neck, then, with head held high, walked across the street and into the hotel lobby. The clerk behind the desk raised his head as she approached.

“Good day, Miss Harris,” he said, quickly smiling.

“I haven’t seen you in town for a while. Is the Judge with you today? Will you be dining with us?” He looked at her with openly appreciative eyes, then craned his neck to see if Judge Branigan was somewhere in sight.

“No, Mr. Samuels. I’m afraid Tucker isn’t with me.” She returned his look with a half-hearted smile of her own. Mark Samuels had been pestering for permission to call upon her since she was barely out of short skirts. She thought him a terrible busybody and had no intention of encouraging him to snoop into her affairs. Her voice was unusually crisp.

“I’ve come to see Mrs. Blake. Can you tell me what room she’s in, please?” His hopeful expression faded.

“Mrs. Blake?” He glanced down at the registry before him.

“Oh, yes. Mrs. Blake.” His head came up again.

“She’s in room two-ten, but I’m afraid now isn’t a good time to come visiting. She’s busy interviewing for a woman to care for her children. There’s already been three ladies come and gone.”

“Three? But it’s not even two thirty.” What if she’d already hired someone? Rachel hadn’t even had a chance. She at least wanted a chance.

“First one come more’n a half hour ago. Mrs. Blake’s a good friend of yours, I take it?” Rachel was scarcely aware of what Mark Samuels was saying.