Give Me Tonight

'How can you be so sure?' he asked gruffly.

'Because I know you. Because my heart tells me so.'

He turned his face away. Addie sat in his lap, trying to read his silence. Suddenly he drew his sleeve across his eyes, blotting an unfamiliar dampness, and she wound her arms around his neck, holding him fiercely. She had to convince him she wouldn't become like the other woman he'd loved, her spirit crushed by a disapproving world.

'I'm not like, Ben.'

'In some ways you are.'

'Well, of course I hate not being able to say what I want or to do what I want, just because I'm a woman. But I'm not a bird in a cage. And I want to belong to you.'

'I don't want to trap you-'

'I'm more afraid of being alone. Don't you see I have more freedom with you than without you?'

His hands bracketed her shoulders as he looked at her intently. The combination of innocence and experience in her face had never been so pronounced. He saw the eagerness of a child, the passionate love of a woman, and a depth of understanding that belonged to someone twice her age.

'God, I'll never let you go, Addie.'

'I know that.'

'And I won't try to change you.'

'I wouldn't let you.'

'No, you wouldn't,' he said, and relaxed slightly. 'You're quite a woman, Adeline Warner.'

'Too much for you to handle?' she asked, her voice soft and teasing. Suddenly she found herself fiat on her back, smiling as she stared up at him. His eyes warmed with desire.

'Not by a long shot,' he said, proceeding to demonstrate in a way that left no doubt in her mind.

The agreements Ben and Russell had made in private about how to handle the crisis were never detailed to the family, but some things were very clear. Most important, the fence was going back up. Second, Russell had decided to restrain himself from riding roughshod over the ranch, the Warner family, and the cowboys, contrary to what they had expected. He stayed in the office and kept his distance from the ruins of his fence, while Ben supervised the Construction of extra line shacks, doubled the number of riders who protected the Sunrise borders at night, and appointed men to hammer new fence posts into the ground.

Barrels of precious water were used to soften the ground in order to dig holes for the posts, an outrage to those whose herds of cattle were parched and thirsty. May, Caroline, Addie, and even Leah were kept busy doctoring the gouges and scratches that the barbed wire left on the arms of the men who were engaged in constructing the new fence. After a few days Addie showed Ben ruefully that her fingers were permanently stained brownish-red from handling countless bottles of iodine.

The reactions of the town and neighboring ranches to the attack on Russell's property were mixed. Some cattlemen who had been entertaining the idea of closing in their own land with cheap, durable barbed-wire fencing were- as outraged as if they had been victimized along with Russell. But some people said it was just what Russell deserved. Many cowboys hated the idea of fencing over the range they were accustomed to riding so freely. Small cowmen who often gleaned mavericks from the cattle drifting across the boundaries of their own properties resented the fence too.

As day after day passed by, Addie began to miss Ben acutely. She hardly ever saw him. He was busy dealing with all the problems that were brought to him, no matter how large or small. His work was unending as he supervised the building of the fence and coordinated the other chores done around the ranch. With the constant traffic in and around the house, there was no opportunity for him to come to Addie's room. A man had been appointed to watch over the house at night, the final guarantee that her trysts with Ben were over for a while.

Addie was consumed by frustration, emotional and physical, and it wouldn't be eased until she had Ben to herself again. She lay sprawled in her bed at night, arms and legs outflung as she thought moodily about the times he had visited her. How was it possible to want someone so much? The moments when she did see him weren't enough-there were always family members or ranch hands around, and no chance for any kind of privacy.

How long was she going to last without him? Her need of him grew stronger every minute, until she could hardly bear it when he was near. How strange it was to hunger and thirst for someone so badly, to resent everything that took him away from her. He had awakened needs in her, strong needs that must be assuaged. She'd had so few nights with him, but for the rest of her life, every night without him would be cold and empty. Looking around the table, she wondered if any of them would have understood how she felt. No, none of them, not even lonely, sensitive Caroline.

I 'd go to any lengths to keep him. None of them have ever fought for each other. But they must have felt something once. They must have. Caroline and Peter acted like distant acquaintances, while May and Russell were wearily affectionate at best. No passion, no tenderness. Not even anger. What do they talk about when they're alone? Or is there just silence?

Addie missed the long, cozy talks with Ben the most. In the darkest hours of the night she had told him some of the scandalously intimate things that even wives weren't supposed to tell their husbands. Conversations with Ben had been a source of endless fascination, since there was almost no subject he was unwilling to discuss, and he never bothered to spare het modesty. He seemed to enjoy making her blush, and he could always tell when he'd succeeded, even in the dark.

After a week of being apart from him, she began to notice that Ben was changing in subtle ways. His easy manner had disappeared and his sense of humor was more biting than usual. He was always tense and short tempered around her, and he made an effort to avoid her company. Why was he so brusque and abrupt? Why did it seem as if he were angry with her?

Every time she heard him walk into the house at dinnertime, saw him enter the room, watched him as he sat down at the table, there was an ache in the pit of her stomach. The extra time he spent in the sun was darkening his skin to a new swarthy shade, making his eyes glow like emeralds. He had never been so handsome, so unreachable. Why was it that as she looked at him across the expanse of the dining-room table, the distance seemed to turn into miles?

Addie poker her head around Caroline's door, her brow creasing with a frown as she saw the shades pulled down over the morning light and the small bulky figure huddled underneath the covers.

'Caro?' she said softly, and her sister stirred. 'You don't feel like getting up yet?'

Caroline shook her head, looking annoyed. Her face was bloated from gaining a surprising amount of weight in a short time, and her eyes were underlined with puffy bags. 'No. I feel sick. I'm tired.'

'Has Dr. Haskin-'

'He says there's nothin' wrong with me.'

'Well, that's wonderful-'

'Oh, don't sound so cheerful.'

'Why don't I get you some tea? And I'll read you the story from yesterday's newspaper about -'

'No. Thank you, but I don't feel like drinkin' anything or listenin' to anything.'

Slowly Addie walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, covering Caro's limp hand with her own. 'What's wrong?' she asked gently.

The sympathy seemed to be Caroline's undoing. Her eyes filled with tears. 'I feel so fat and awful and mean-tempered. And I'm losing my hair. Can't you see how thin and stringy it is? I used to have such pretty hair. '

'It's still pretty. If you have lost some, it's certainly not enough for anyone to notice, and it'll grow back just as soon as the baby's born.'

'A-and Peter never wants to talk to me anymore, or hold me-'