Chapter 2

“Daddy, will you play catch with me ‘n’ Benny when you get home tonight?” Jory asked hopefully as he finished his breakfast of flapjacks and bacon.

“Sorry, I’m bringing some work home tonight,” Mark replied, adding as an afterthought, “maybe we can play catch Saturday.”

Gwyneth saw the disappointment on her sons’ faces and stabbed her fork into a piece of flapjack. Sometimes it seems all Mark cares about is the mine! He never has time for the children and me. I can’t remember the last time he said he loved me.

Hoping to lessen the boys’ disappointment, she said with a smile, “Don’t forget you’re going to see Grandpa after school. He’ll play Old Bachelor with you.”

“I like Old Bachelor,” Benny said with a grin.

“I’d rather play catch,” Jory muttered, but luckily Mark didn’t hear him and Gwyneth decided to ignore the remark.

After Jory and Benny went to school, Gwyneth finished washing the breakfast dishes while simultaneously keeping an eye on Little Adam and Morwenna. She needed to go shopping that morning. Since Mark had been planning to eat his meals with Aunt Matilda and Uncle Rhys while the rest of the family was away, her pantry was nearly bare. If her daddy hadn’t been sick, she would have left the children with her mama as usual, but this time the children would have to come with her.

Little Adam’s rompers were still clean so he could wear them to the shops, but Morwenna would need to change into a nicer dress, and Gwyneth needed to check her nappy. While she was cleaning Morwenna’s bottom, Little Adam announced, “Mama, I gotta go.”

“Can you wait just a minute?” Gwyneth asked, continuing to clean Morwenna.

“I gotta go now,” the little boy stated urgently.

Gwyneth sighed because she knew her youngest son always waited until the last minute to announce he needed to use the outhouse. “You’ll have to use the Jerry. Morwenna, lie still and Mama will be right back,” she instructed.

Leaving Morwenna in her crib in the nursery, Gwyneth hurried into her bedroom and took the chamber pot out of the commode chest and put it on the floor for her son to use. She heard her daughter giggling and saw she’d climbed out of the crib and was headed for the open bedroom door.

“Morwenna!” Gwyneth said in a scolding tone as she caught her baby and took her back to the nursery. She finished cleaning Morwenna, put a clean nappy and rubber nappy cover on her before dressing her in a blue calico frock.

“Now, you’re Mama’s pretty little girl,” Gwyneth said, smiling at Morwenna, who grinned, saying, “Ma-ma.”

Knowing the morning was going by quickly and she’d need to be home in time to fix lunch, Gwyneth put both children in the nursery, giving them Little Adam’s ball to play with. “Now, you play while Mama changes her clothes,” she admonished as she closed the nursery door.

She changed from her plain cotton housedress to the pretty, high-necked lacy blouse her parents had given her for her birthday the previous month and a navy linen skirt. She opened the nursery door after putting on her hat and gloves. “There, now we’re all ready to go shopping,” she said to the two children. “No, wait. You need your hats,” she said. Morwenna’s straw hat was in the nursery and Little Adam’s was in the room he shared with Benny.

“Now we are really ready,” Gwyneth said as she adjusted the angle of Morwenna’s hat and Little Adam tipped his as far back as it would go.

He went down the stairs first, holding tightly to the banister. Gwyneth held one of Morwenna’s hands while Morwenna clutched the banister in the other and they all descended slowly. The baby carriage was by the back door. Gwyneth put Morwenna in it but Little Adam baulked at riding. Gwyneth knew he would want to ride before they reached Cloncurry Stores, so she didn’t press the issue.

As soon as Gwyneth opened the front gate, Little Adam ran through it and up the street as fast as his chubby legs would go. “Little Adam, slow down!” she commanded, but he only turned and grinned at her and continued running. Gwyneth didn’t waste time calling after her son. Leaving the baby carriage by the gate, she ran after Little Adam, catching him easily.

“Little Adam, when Mama says to slow down, you slow down,” Gwyneth said sternly, giving his behind a firm swat. He scowled at her and the minute she let go of him, he ran away. When Gwyneth caught him, she counted to ten before giving him two swats while he yelled, “No!”

“All right, young man,” she said, struggling not to lose her temper, “if you won’t obey Mama, you are going to ride with your sister.” She picked him up, yelling and kicking, and carried him back to the carriage. As soon as she put him in it, he tried to climb out. “Sit down,” she commanded, holding her son down. Morwenna watched them both, chewing on the hat she’d removed.

Gwyneth was standing there, holding her son down, when she heard her Aunt Matilda call, “G’day!”

“G’day, Aunt Matilda,” Gwyneth called as she turned toward her aunt, who was hurrying to her front gate.

“Down!” Little Adam hollered at the top of his lungs, struggling to break his mama’s hold on him, and Gwyneth’s frustration and embarrassment grew.

“Are you going shopping?” Matilda asked serenely as she approached. She’s seen her niece’s problem from the parlor where she’d been dusting. Knowing her youngest Pentreath grandnephew was a handful, she’d hurriedly snatched her hat, gloves and pocketbook so she could help.

“I’m trying to go,” Gwyneth said, and couldn’t keep the frustration from her voice.

“Well, why don’t we go together?” the older woman suggested. “Little Adam, if you hold my hand, maybe your mama would let you walk with me. Will you promise to hold my hand?”

The little imp smiled sweetly at his grandaunt, looking absolutely angelic with his curls and dimples. “I pomis, Aunt Tilda.” Gwyneth felt like screaming, but she only nodded to her aunt, who lifted the little boy out of the carriage and set him down, keeping a firm grip on his hand.

“Morwenna, you mustn’t eat your hat,” Gwyneth said, taking it and putting it back on her little girl’s head. Then the four of them set off down the street.

About halfway there, Little Adam tugged on Matilda’s hand. “Yes, dear?” she asked.

“Wanna ride,” he stated.

“You forgot the magic word,” Matilda said with a little smile. The not-quite-three-year-old frowned at her but then broke into a big dimpled smile.

“Pease!” he shouted, and his grandaunt and mama smiled at him. Then Gwyneth lifted him and put him in the carriage with Morwenna, who was once again chewing on her hat.

When they reached Cloncurry Stores at the corner of Ramsay and King Street, Matilda suggested they each take one child.

“I want to visit Mrs. Harrington’s dress shop,” she said with a smile. “Why don’t you meet me there when you finish here?”

“Right,” Gwyneth replied. “You take Morwenna. Little Adam, you come with me. Where’s your hat? Oh, never mind,” she added as she lifted him out of the carriage.

Gwyneth kept a firm hold on her son’s hand as she shopped. The storeowner kept glass jars of lollies on the counter and while Gwyneth was having everything put on her account and arranging to have it delivered, Little Adam was staring at the sweets. He started tugging on her skirt to get her attention.

“Just a minute, Little Adam,” she said automatically

“Wanna lolly. Pease,” the little boy said.

“What kind would you like?” said a deep voice just behind Gwyneth.

It can’t be, Gwyneth thought, whirling around to look up into Douglas Campbell’s bright blue eyes. She’d forgotten what a big man he was: about six feet, five inches and all hard muscle. He was the only man who’d ever made her feel dainty. He smiled at her and then said to Little Adam, “I recommend barley sugar but I like licorice, too.”

Little Adam stared up at the tall red-haired man, wonder written all over his face. Then he grinned and said, “Lic’rice. Pease.”

Douglas fished a coin from his pocket and said to the proprietor, “Give him a bag of licorice.” Then Douglas ruffled Little Adam’s black curls before saying softly, “You haven’t changed, Gwyneth. You’re still as lovely as ever.” Gwyneth could feel her cheeks growing warm and turned quickly to her little boy.

“What do you say to Mr. Campbell, Little Adam?” she said then, grateful to tear her eyes away from Douglas’s.

“T’ank you,” Little Adam said, grinning up at Douglas.

“When did you return?” Gwyneth asked then, very quietly, grateful Douglas couldn’t know how fast her heart was racing.

“The day before yesterday. My dad’s not well and Mum wrote and asked me to come back. At least for a visit.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your dad,” Gwyneth said. Seeing the storeowner start to hand Little Adam the bag of licorice, she quickly said, “I’ll take that. Now, Little Adam, you may have a piece and we’ll take the rest home to share with your brothers.”

“Don’t tell me you have other children,” Douglas said in the same intimate tone as his eyes traveled over her in a visual caress. “I won’t believe it.”

“I have four children,” she replied with downcast eyes. “Thank you for buying Little Adam the lollies.” She kept a firm hold on her little boy’s hand and clutched the bag of licorice in the other.

Douglas’s mother had been shopping in the back of the store. She hadn’t noticed Gwyneth and Little Adam at first, but when her son left her and walked to the front of the store, she looked to see what had caught his attention. When Gwyneth and Little Adam left Cloncurry Stores, Mrs. Campbell stared after them, her expression bitter.

As the Campbells walked home together, Mrs. Campbell said to her son, “I saw you talking with Gwyneth Pentreath. You should keep away from her. She broke your heart once, and she’s a married woman-a married woman with a family.”

“I just spoke to her for a few minutes, Mum. What’s the harm in that?” But Douglas knew the answer to his question. He’d tried to forget Gwyneth, but he couldn’t. He was a one woman man, but that woman chose someone else. The little boy looked so much like her-the same soft curls, the same cupid’s bow mouth and the same dimples.

“I saw you buy lollies for her son,” Mrs. Campbell said quietly.

“No drama, Mum,” he replied and Mrs. Campbell shut her lips in a tight line. She’d never understood how Gwyneth Cartwright could have preferred Mark Pentreath to her Douglas. Every time she saw Gwyneth with her children, she thought with a mixture of resentment and longing that they might have been her grandchildren.

Seeing her aunt waiting for her in front of the dress shop, Gwyneth quickened her pace so that Little Adam had to run to keep up.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Gwyneth said to Matilda.

“No, not at all,” Matilda replied with a smile. She felt Little Adam tugging her skirt and said, “Yes, dear?”

“A giant gots me lic’rice, Aunt Tilda!” the little boy exclaimed excitedly.

Matilda looked at Gwyneth with raised eyebrows and Gwyneth felt her face grow warm. Douglas paid you some compliments and bought Little Adam some lollies. That’s nothing to be embarrassed about, she scolded herself. Trying to sound nonchalant, she said, “Douglas Campbell was in the store and overheard Little Adam asking for lollies so he bought him some, which he’s going to share with his brothers.”

Matilda’s eyes narrowed slightly but she only said, “I had heard Douglas was in town visiting his parents.”

When they reached the Davies house, Gwyneth said, “Aunt Matilda, would you mind watching the ankle biters for a few minutes while I see how Daddy is doing?”

“I’ll be happy to watch them,” Matilda said with a smile.

However, as soon as Little Adam saw his mama walking toward his grandparents’ bungalow, he ran after her, yelling, “See Ga-ma, Pa-pa!”

Gwyneth waited for him to catch up, and then she squatted down to be on eyelevel, saying very seriously, “Little Adam, you must be very quiet because Grandpa is crook. Do you understand?” The little boy nodded, his eyes very big and his expression solemn.

Bronwen, who’d been getting ready to do her own shopping, answered their knock with a big smile and Little Adam said in a loud whisper, “G’day, Ga-ma!”

Seeing her mama’s puzzled expression, Gwyneth explained, “He’s being quiet because he knows Grandpa is crook.”

“That’s very thoughtful, Little Adam,” Bronwen said, bending down and kissing his cheek. “Grandpa is feeling better today and I know he’d like some company.” She held out her hand to her grandson, who looked up and dimpled before putting his hand in hers.

“I’ll just go get Morwenna from Aunt Matilda,” Gwyneth said, “and I’ll bring her to see her grandpa.” She turned and walked back outside while Bronwen and Little Adam went to the master bedroom.

Adam was sitting up in bed reading, but he looked up with a smile when he heard them enter.

“G’day, Pa-pa!” Little Adam said in his loud whisper as he ran to climb up beside his grandpa.

“G’day, Little Adam,” Adam said, setting his book down and then putting an arm around the child as he crawled over and sat beside him. Seeing the sticky black ring around his namesake’s mouth, Adam said with a little grin, “Looks like someone has been eating licorice.”

“A giant gots it for me, Pa-pa!” Little Adam said excitedly.

“A giant?” Adam repeated, raising one eyebrow.

“A giant!” Little Adam stated, nodding his head emphatically.

Adam shrugged slightly and then said with a smile, “Would you like to hear a story?”

“A ‘tory ‘bout a giant,” the little boy commanded.

“Hmm. Let me see,” Adam said, pretending to search his memory. His namesake looked at him anxiously so he smiled and began, “Once upon a time there was a poor woman who lived in a little house with her son Jack. . . .”

Bronwen quietly got her hat, gloves and pocketbook and left the two Adams together. As she stepped on the verandah, Gwyneth was walking up the steps, holding Morwenna’s hand to help her keep her balance. “Oh, you’re going out,” Gwyneth said, seeing her mama wearing her hat and gloves. “I didn’t realize . . .” and her voice trailed off.

“She’s apples,” Bronwen said with a smile. “After fixing breakfast for the three of us, my cupboard is now as bare as Old Mother Hubbard’s, so I’m going shopping.”

“Oh, I should’ve thought to ask you if you needed me to get you anything when I went,” Gwyneth said, dismayed by her thoughtlessness.

Bronwen knew her middle daughter tended to be too hard on herself, so she said quickly, “No worries, Gwyneth. I need the exercise.”

Morwenna felt she’d been ignored long enough, and tugged on Bronwen’s skirt. “Ga-ma,” she said with a big grin.

Bronwen reached down and picked up her baby granddaughter and kissed her chubby cheek. “G’day, Morwenna fach,” she said with a smile.

“Little Adam is with Daddy?” Gwyneth asked then.

“Right. Your daddy is telling him the story of Jack and the Beanstalk.” Bronwen paused and then asked curiously, “Who is the giant who bought Little Adam licorice?”

“Douglas Campbell. He was in the store and heard Little Adam begging for lollies,” Gwyneth replied matter-of-factly.

“He’s back in town?” Bronwen asked in surprise. Then she put Morwenna down, saying, “Well, I need to be on my way.”

As Gwyneth got closer to the open door of her parents’ bedroom, she heard her daddy’s voice reciting:

Fee-fi-fo-fum
I smell the blood of an Englishman.
Be he alive or be he dead
I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.

Oh dear! Now Little Adam will probably have nightmares, she thought. Morwenna ran to the bed and Gwyneth put her on it and let her crawl to Adam, who smiled at her as he continued the story. After he said, “So Jack and his mother lived happily the rest of their lives,” Little Adam said, “My giant not mean. My giant nice.”

“Little Adam, you mustn’t call Mr. Campbell a giant,” Gwyneth said quickly.

“Douglas Campbell?” Adam asked, lifting one eyebrow. Then he said “Well, I did hear at the pub that Sandy was in very poor health so it’s natural Douglas would come back.”

Gwyneth wanted to change the subject so she asked, “Did you get to see A.C. before he left?”

“Yes. We didn’t have much chance to talk though.” Adam said slowly, “I’m trying to accept his decision. I think it would be easier if he had a definite alternative to engineering.”

“He’ll have plenty of time to think about his future on the voyage to San Francisco,” Gwyneth said, trying to sound encouraging. Then she said to her children, “Say goodbye to Grandpa. We need to go home so Mama can start fixing lunch.”

“Wanna stay wiv Pa-pa,” Little Adam said, his expression mulish.

“Young man, when your mama tells you to do something, you should do it,” Adam said sternly. “If you want Grandpa to tell you a story the next time you visit, you do what your mama says.”

Little Adam scowled at his grandpa, who frowned at him. Gwyneth had to hide a smile behind her hand as she watched them. Little Adam was the first to look away and jumped off the bed, his expression petulant as he stomped over to the door. Gwyneth set Morwenna on her feet and watched as she trotted after her brother. Turning to Adam with a smile, she said, “Jory and Benny are coming to see you after school. I told them you’d play Old Bachelor with them.”

“The cards are right here,” Adam said with a little grin as he gestured toward the bedside table.

All the way home, Little Adam shouted, “Fee-fi-fo-fum!” and chased Morwenna, who ran away, squealing with laughter. Gwyneth had them play in the yard where she could watch from the kitchen window as she prepared lunch.

When Jory and Benny came home for lunch, Benny told Gwyneth that Miss Andrews was teaching him how to write his name. Little Adam was eager to tell his big brothers about the giant.

“Little Adam, I told you not to call Mr. Campbell a giant. He’s just very tall,” Gwyneth said.

“A giant,” Little Adam said emphatically. “Nice giant,” he added. Gwyneth mentally counted to ten. She was hoping by the time Mark got home, Little Adam would have stopped talking about Douglas.

Jory turned to his baby brother and sneered, “There’s no such things as giants, drongo.”

“Is too!” Little Adam said belligerently while Gwyneth said firmly, “Jory, you are not to call your brother a drongo. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Jory muttered, his expression sullen.

“Aunt Matilda told us Goliath was a giant,” Benny said, looking anxiously at his mama and then his older brother.

“Goliath was a giant, but Mr. Campbell is just a very tall man,” Gwyneth said, smiling at her second born.

“Tall as Uncle A.C.?” Jory asked.

“A little taller actually, and he’s bigger. But not a giant,” she said firmly. Then she turned to Jory and said, “You haven’t told me what you learned this morning.”

“I hate the multiplication tables!” Jory said with a scowl.

“I didn’t like them much either,” Gwyneth said, smiling at her oldest. “I’ll help you practice tonight after high tea.”

“Okay,” Jory said, with just a little smile.

Bronwen brought Adam his lunch on a tray.

“This is ridiculous. I hope you realize that. There’s no reason I can’t walk to the dining room,” he commented with a frown.

“No reason, except Dr. Brooke ordered complete bed rest,” she said sweetly as she handed him the tray, which had two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon. “I just got back from my shopping, and eggs were the quickest, easiest thing to fix,” she explained as she pulled her rocking chair over by the bed.

“I like eggs,” he said with a smile as he handed her a plate.

As they ate, she asked casually, “Did Gwyneth tell you the identity of Little Adam’s ‘giant’?”

“Yes, she told me it was Douglas Campbell,” Adam replied. He ate a forkful of eggs before remarking, “I imagine Douglas has gotten over her.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Bronwen said slowly. “He’s never married. That sounds to me as though he may still care for Gwyneth.”

Adam rolled his eyes at this typically romanticized viewpoint. “It doesn’t really matter,” he stated. “Gwyneth made her choice, and Douglas must accept that.”

Bronwen was busy baking that afternoon and Adam was growing restless. He had been reading Edith Wharton’s Madame de Treymes, but he just wasn’t in the mood. Bronwen had put The Return of Sherlock Holmes and Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle on his bedside table, but he’d already read them. He found himself thinking about the Ponderosa. He had wanted to go there again, but had dreaded it at the same time. There were so many memories.

Those first years had been hard ones, but as a child he hadn’t known that. He’d been happy teaching Hoss how to skip stones and fish and ride and play checkers. He was good at snaring rabbits and sometimes Pa would bring home an antelope so they’d have some meat. He and Pa had worked hard planting a vegetable garden and hay for Pa’s horse, his pony and their milk cow. When Hoss was old enough, he worked just as hard. In the evenings after chores were done, Pa would tell them stories about when he was a sailor or they’d sing songs. It was a good life.

Hop Sing joined them and he and Hoss had accepted him right off. Well, if I’m honest, I have to admit Hoss accepted him first, but it didn’t take me long to look on him as part of the family. Not like Belle-mère. I gave you such a hard time, didn’t I? For a woman who wasn’t particularly patient, you certainly exercised great patience with me. And you were a good friend to me. I know if you hadn’t been my champion, I might never have had the chance to attend Harvard.

His thoughts turned then to the years after the discovery of the Comstock Lode. What a change that made in our lives. All the people flocking to the Comstock just as they’d flocked to the gold fields in California. Instead of a few families that owned ranches, Virginia City had miners and teamsters, gamblers and prostitutes. It had schools and churches, saloons and brothels. Suddenly we could get the news daily from “The Territorial Enterprise” and entertainment from Piper’s Opera House. Our lives would never be the same.

He smiled as he thought, One thing never changed, and that was the closeness among the four of us. I can remember playing countless games of checkers and chess, sitting in the great room or around a campfire singing, working together at branding calves or harvesting the hay and oats, going on cattle drives. Bronwen’s family had that same closeness and I’m so thankful ours does as well. And I can see it in Beth’s and Gwyneth’s families.

Yes, he decided, we will still go to the Ponderosa before heading to Hanover. I want my grandchildren here in Cloncurry to see where I grew up, to see what their great-grandfather and his sons built.

Adam was lost in memories when he heard the sound of footsteps running toward his door and smiled.

“G’day, Grandpa!” Jory and Benny chorused, followed by Ifor’s, “G’day, Uncle Adam.”

“We come to play Old Bachelor with you,” Benny said with a big grin.

“Grandma said for us to take off our shoes and sit on the bed ’cause you can’t get up,” Jory added.

Adam shook his head slightly as he watched the boys pull off their Oxford shoes and then sit cross-legged on three corners of the bed.

“So what did you boys learn at school today?” Adam asked as he dealt the cards.

“I learned how to write my name,” Benny said with a happy smile. “I can write Benny. I’m still learning to write Pentreath.”

Ifor looked at his friend, who was frowning, and decided not to mention the multiplication tables. Instead, he said, “We’re learning how to write cursive. It’s harder than printing,” he said a trace of smugness, and Benny frowned.

“And we’re learning the names of the six states of the Commonwealth of Australia,” Jory said, pleased that Ifor hadn’t brought up the hated multiplication tables. “There’s Queensland, New South Wales, Victoria, Western Australia . . .” He paused, frowning in concentration before adding with a proud grin, “South Australia and Tasmania.”

“Very good,” Adam said with a smile as he finished dealing the cards.

As they finished the game, Bronwen came into the room and said, “Boys, I made ginger biscuits today. If you go to the kitchen, you’ll find a plate of them and three glasses of milk. Finish the milk and biscuits in the kitchen, and then you can come back and play some more.”

“Beauty!” the boys exclaimed, scrambling off the bed and heading for the door. “Thanks, Grandma! Thanks, Aunt Bronwen!” they called as they exited the room.

“How are you feeling?” Bronwen asked Adam as she sat beside him.

“I feel fine now,” he replied, adding with a frown, “it’s the day after tomorrow I dread.”

“My poor Adam,” she said softly and then kissed him gently.

Mark was late getting home from the mine that night. Instead of being irritated with him, Gwyneth was relieved since Little Adam was already in bed and so had no chance to tell Mark about his giant.

A couple of days later as Jory and Benny were headed back to school after lunch, they saw a tall, brawny man with flaming red hair walking down the street.

“Little Adam’s giant!” Benny exclaimed, his chocolate brown eyes big and round.

“Too right,” Jory said. “He is about as big as a giant.”

Gwyneth was sitting on the verandah’s swing with Morwenna on her lap and Little Adam lying beside her as she told them the story of the Three Little Pigs. (Little Adam strongly resisted taking a nap but she’d found she could rock him to sleep on the swing while telling him a story.) Suddenly, he sat up and shouted, “G’day, Giant!” Before Gwyneth could react, Little Adam jumped off the swing and hurried down the steps as fast as he could while clutching the verandah’s railing.

Morwenna had been startled awake by her brother’s yell and began to cry. Gwyneth tried to calm her while Little Adam ran to greet Douglas. Grabbing Douglas’s hand, the little boy led the large man up the path to the verandah.

“Sit on swing, Giant,” Little Adam commanded, and Douglas looked to Gwyneth for permission.

Morwenna had stopped crying and stared at the stranger with her big dark eyes. Gwyneth felt flustered, but she said, “Please do join us, Douglas.” Then she turned to her son and said in a scolding tone, “Little Adam, don’t call Mr. Campbell a giant.”

Douglas smiled at the little boy, who was still holding his hand, and said with a grin, “Why don’t you call me Douglas. Mr. Campbell is my dad.”

Little Adam looked up at Douglas and then dimpled. “Doug-las,” he said trying out the name.

“You sit by me, Little Adam, and then Douglas can sit by you,” Gwyneth said quickly to avoid the possibility of Douglas sitting next to her. Concealing his disappointment, Douglas sat by the little boy. “So you’re Little Adam,” he commented with a smile. “Yes, you sure look like your granddad and your mum.” He looked at Morwenna, who was staring at him. “And what’s your name?” he asked her with a smile.

“Wenna,” the little girl said and then turned her face into her mama’s neck, overcome with shyness.

“Morwenna Bronwen for Mark’s mother and mine,” Gwyneth said quietly, and Douglas nodded, accepting the reminder that Gwyneth was a married woman.

Little Adam looked up and pointed at Douglas’s head. “Hot?’ he asked curiously.

Douglas was puzzled for a moment and then he chuckled. “No, my hair is just the color of fire,” he said with a grin. Little Adam looked unconvinced so Douglas asked, “Do you want to touch it?” The little boy nodded. Douglas leaned down and Little Adam patted his hair. “See, it’s not hot.” Douglas chuckled again at the disappointed look on the child’s face.

“I’m surprised to see you, Douglas,” Gwyneth said then, avoiding eye contact by adjusting Morwenna’s apron.

“Oh, I thought I might go fishing if the river isn’t too low,” he replied. Then he stopped and said, “No, that’s not true. I walked this way hoping I might see you.”

“Douglas,” she said, her cheeks reddening.

Douglas looked down at Little Adam, who was tugging his hand. “What were you doing when I walked by?” he asked the little boy.

“Mama tell ‘tory,” Little Adam replied.

“I’d like to hear your mama’s story,” Douglas said with a big grin. Gwyneth still felt flustered, but she continued the story. Morwenna drifted back to sleep, but Little Adam remained wide awake.

“Tell me ‘tory, Doug-las,” he begged, turning his big hazel eyes on Douglas. “Pease.”

“I don’t tell stories as well as your mama,” Douglas began but Gwyneth cut him off.

“I’d like to hear your story,” she said with a smug grin.

Douglas racked his brain and finally remembered his favorite childhood story. Smiling at Little Adam, he said, “There was a donkey who was getting too old to work and his master was mean to him. The donkey heard that the town of Bremen was looking for singers and the donkey thought he had an excellent voice so he started off for Bremen. . . .”

Little Adam listened raptly to the story, and he showed no signs of falling asleep.

“I don’t think he’ll take a nap as long as you’re here,” Gwyneth said quietly when the story ended, and Douglas reluctantly nodded. For just a few minutes, he’d been able to imagine what his life might have been like if Gwyneth had chosen him instead of Pentreath.

He smiled at Little Adam and said gently, “I’ve got to go now, mate. Maybe I’ll come see you another time.” He stood up and Little Adam grabbed his hand.

“No! Stay!” the little boy commanded.

“Sorry, mate, but I’ve got to go,” Douglas said firmly as he removed the child’s hand with surprising gentleness. He lightly touched Morwenna’s soft dark hair and then, before Gwyneth realized what he intended, he softly caressed her cheek. He hurried down the steps before she could react.

“No!” Little Adam yelled, running after Douglas, but Douglas carefully latched the gate behind him so the child couldn’t follow. Gwyneth delicately touched her cheek, which seemed to burn from Douglas’s touch. It had been so long since Mark had touched her like that. No, you mustn’t think about Douglas, she told herself. Mark is your husband and it’s disloyal.

She continued to hold the sleeping Morwenna, gently rocking the swing, watching her little boy crying in frustration as he kicked the gate. Eventually, he wore himself out and trudged dejectedly back to the verandah. Seeing his woebegone little face, Gwyneth carefully laid Morwenna on the swing and picked Little Adam up and rocked him to sleep.

When Jory and Benny came home from school, they found their little brother and sister playing with the Noah’s Ark on the verandah.

“We saw your giant!” Benny said excitedly.

“He is big,” Jory added. “And his hair is so ginger!”

“Doug-las told me ‘tory ’bout donkey, dog, cat and rooster live together,” Little Adam said with a big grin.

“Who’s Doug-las?” Jory asked.

“Giant,” his littlest brother replied. “He comed to see me and tell ‘tory.”

“I wanna show Mama I can write my name,” Benny said then, having lost interest in his brother’s giant friend, and he went inside. Jory followed.

It wasn’t long before Ifor arrived because he and Jory had permission to go for a ride on their ponies, Brownie and Blackie. (Jory and Benny shared Blackie but Benny wasn’t allowed to ride without an adult accompanying him.) Once the older boys rode off, Benny played catch with Little Adam and Gwyneth came out to keep an eye on them and play some little finger games with Morwenna. When it was time to start preparing high tea, she took Morwenna inside so she could keep an eye on her, leaving the two boys playing outside. She hoped that by the time Mark returned from the mine, Little Adam would have forgotten about Douglas’s visit. It was perfectly innocent, she told herself (conveniently forgetting Douglas’s confession that he’d walked by hoping to see her), but she knew that Mark might not see it that way. If he and Douglas had a barney, Douglas might really hurt Mark. She did not want that.

Luck was with Gwyneth during high tea. Benny was eager to tell Mark about being able to write his name and Jory wanted to show him that he knew the multiplication table up to times eleven. Little Adam forgot to mention his new friend.

The next morning Gwyneth knew would be one of her daddy’s good days, so she went next door with Little Adam and Morwenna. Adam had been restless, although the malaria left him so anemic that he hadn’t complained about being restricted to bed. Bronwen knew that was a sign of how weak he actually was. She was happy to see Gwyneth and the children and took them straight in to Adam. Morwenna was very wiggly and wouldn’t sit still but crawled over the bed. Little Adam, however, sat right beside his grandpa and asked for a story.

“Tell ‘tory ’bout donkey and dog and cat and rooster live together,” he commanded and Adam looked at Gwyneth quizzically.

“He means The Bremen Town Musicians,” Gwyneth explained.

“My giant, Doug-las, telled me ‘tory,” Little Adam said, smiling at his grandpa.

Adam and Bronwen shared a look, and as Adam began the story, Bronwen said very quietly, “Let’s go to the living room, Gwyneth.”

Gwyneth went reluctantly, knowing what her mama wanted to talk with her about. Bronwen indicated they should sit on the settee but before she could open her mouth, Gwyneth said quickly, “Mama, I know what you’re going to say, but Douglas was just passing by and Little Adam saw him and wanted him to come sit with us on the swing and tell him a story. You know how Little Adam can be, and so Douglas agreed. Perfectly harmless.”

“Gwyneth, don’t forget Douglas wanted to marry you and he may still have feelings for you,” Bronwen said gently. “Do you really think if, say, Siân or Cathy had asked him to tell them a story, he would have agreed?”

“He seems to like children so he might have,” Gwyneth retorted and she didn’t hear how defensive she sounded.

“Gwyneth fach, I think it’s your children that he likes and especially Little Adam, who looks so much like you,” Bronwen said in the same gentle tone.

“We probably won’t see him again,” Gwyneth said then. “He’s only here for a visit.” Wanting to turn her mama’s attention elsewhere she asked, “How is Daddy? He looks so tired.”

“He is. You know your daddy, and he’ll never admit to us how weak these attacks leave him,” Bronwen said quietly, but her daughter heard the worry in her tone.

“Dr. Brooke did say he’d be right?” Gwyneth asked anxiously.

“Yes. He came yesterday when your daddy was in the fever stage. He stressed that your daddy must have complete bed rest for two, maybe three, weeks after the recurrence has run its course.”

“But when will it have run its course?” Gwyneth asked with heightened anxiety.

“Dr. Brooke hopes that it already has, but we just have to wait two days and see if the fever and chills return.” Bronwen managed a smile as she added, “He said a sea voyage would be good for your daddy; he wants him to spend a lot of time resting in a deck chair, although a turn about the deck would be good for him as long as he doesn’t overdue it.”

“I hope Dr. Brooke is right and the voyage is good for Daddy. Well, I’d better go check on the ankle biters,” Gwyneth said then, standing up.

After Gwyneth and the children left, Adam waited impatiently for Bronwen to return. She didn’t want to upset him, but knew he would just fret more if she didn’t report her conversation with Gwyneth. Reluctantly, she walked back to their bedroom.

“Well, what did Gwyneth say? Tell me,” he demanded.

“I wonder if I was right about Douglas still loving Gwyneth,” Bronwen said slowly. “Apparently he just happened to be walking down their street when she was rocking the children to sleep on the swing. Little Adam saw him and asked him to sit with them on the swing.”

“An invitation Douglas was only too happy to accept,” Adam commented acerbically.

“Gwyneth has convinced herself it’s all perfectly innocent, and Douglas just likes children,” Bronwen said with a sigh.

“Likes hers at any rate, although I doubt he’d have the same reaction to Jory,” Adam said. “I’m guessing Mark knows nothing of any of this.”

“I think that would be a safe assumption,” Bronwen agreed. “Although it’s a miracle Little Adam hasn’t mentioned Douglas to Mark.” She sat down on the bed beside Adam, and he reached for one of her hands, enfolding it in one of his. “It doesn’t matter that she’s a wife and mother now; she’s still our little girl, and I am afraid for her. Afraid she’s going to find herself in a situation that could have terrible consequences.”

He gave her hand a comforting squeeze as he said, “Hard as it is, we have to trust her, Sweetheart.”

“I know,” she said softly. Then she said, “There is one thing we can do, and that’s pray for her.” He nodded and holding hands, they prayed for their beloved daughter and her family.

Adam and Bronwen waited with a mixture of hope and dread to see if his fever and chills would return after the two days passed. When three days had passed with no symptoms, they both felt a tremendous relief. Dr. Brooke came by and said with a smile that the recurrence had run its course.

“But don’t forget what I said about complete bed rest,” he said sternly. “If you follow my instructions, then by the last week of June, you’ll be ready to travel,” he added with a smile. “It would be best if you spent one or two days in Sydney resting before you sail for the States, and I would like you to rest for a day or two in San Francisco before you travel any further.”

“We’ll follow your instructions to the letter,” Bronwen promised. “Won’t we, Cariad?”

“You wouldn’t think such a small person could be so bossy, would you, doctor?” Adam remarked with a wink and Dr. Brooke chuckled.

“Well, I can see that you’re in good hands,” he said, smiling broadly. “I’ll check back in a week.”

After seeing Dr. Brooke out, Bronwen asked Adam, “Do you mind if I share the good news with Gwyneth and Beth?”

“Not all,” he replied with a smile. “If you’ll get me your writing slope, I’ll write a letter we can send A.C. at the Ponderosa, and another to Miranda.”

“Right,” she said with a smile, and got it from her wardrobe and brought it to him. While he began writing, she changed from her housedress to a skirt and blouse. He smiled when he looked up and watched her adjust her hat. After putting on her gloves, she said, “Hooroo, Cariad,” and gave him a quick kiss before departing.

Adam was just finishing the letter to Miranda when he heard Gwyneth’s voice calling, “Daddy,” followed by Little Adam and Morwenna’s happy shouts of “Pa-pa!” He hurriedly put the lid back on the inkwell and placed the letters on top of the sheets of stationary. He was closing the drawer as his grandchildren came running into the room followed by his daughter. She helped them up on the bed and Morwenna immediately crawled toward the writing slope. Gwyneth quickly moved it out of reach, and Adam smiled his thanks.

“I glad you not crook, Pa-pa,” his namesake said. “Tell ‘tory?” and Adam nodded. “Doug-las don’t come tell me ‘tory,” he added plaintively. Adam’s lips turned up slightly at that news.

“I’m so glad you’re right, Daddy,” Gwyneth said with a dimpled smile as she sat on the bed. Morwenna crawled over to sit on Adam’s lap.

“And Dr. Brooke says we can leave the last week in June.” He saw the impatient look on his grandson’s face and asked him, “Would you like a story about when Grandpa was a little boy?” Little Adam grinned and nodded his head.

A couple of nights later, as Llywelyn and Mark got ready to go home, Llywelyn saw that his friend was once again taking a stack of reports home to work on.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Llywelyn said slowly, putting his hands on his hips. “Look, Mark, I’m not trying to interfere in your personal life, but you’re my friend and Gwyneth’s my cousin, and I care about you both.” Mark frowned but Llywelyn continued, speaking quietly but firmly. “I know how Emma would react if I brought as much work home as you do.”

“Gwyneth understands how important my work is,” Mark said, not noticing the slight defensiveness in his tone.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, mate,” Llywelyn said, shaking his head slightly. He added, “I’ve known Gwyneth all her life, and she tends to keep her feelings to herself. The fact that she hasn’t complained doesn’t mean she isn’t miserable. And it’s not just Gwyneth. Jory and Benny have been coming over to our house to play catch with me and Ifor because you’re always too busy.” He saw his friend’s frown deepen and added quickly, “I’m happy to play with them. That’s not the issue, Mark. You don’t want to become a stranger to your children.” He stopped and said, “Now, I’ve said my piece.”

Mark was silent. He didn’t like anyone, even his best friend, giving him advice on how to treat his wife and children. Llywelyn shook his head and shrugged as he saw his friend continue to gather up reports to take home with him.

Douglas did try to stay away from Gwyneth and he fought against his feelings for her, but she was a magnet, drawing him to her. It was about a week later that he once again found himself walking down her street, and he saw her and the children sitting on the swing. Just as before, Little Adam came running down the path and wanted him to come sit by him and tell him a story.

“Only if it’s all right with your mum,” Douglas said, gazing at Gwyneth and thinking how lovely she was. Some of her curls had escaped from her pompadour and his fingers longed to unpin those curls and watch them all tumble down. He remembered that the first thing he’d ever noticed about Gwyneth, when she was still just a skinny little girl, were those thick black curls that hung down to her waist. He hadn’t had any use for little girls then, but he’d still thought those curls were pretty.

Gwyneth glanced up at him beneath her lashes. She’d tried to deny it, but she’d been almost as disappointed as her little boy that Douglas hadn’t stopped by again. Now she nodded, and Little Adam sat by her. Douglas sat down by him and the little boy asked for the story about the donkey, cat, dog and rooster that all lived together. This time, Little Adam climbed up on Douglas’s lap, and he did fall asleep as Douglas told the story.

“I’ll carry him up to his room,” Douglas offered as Gwyneth stood up to take Morwenna up to her nursery.

“Oh, I don’t think-” Gwyneth began, but Douglas interrupted.

“He’s getting to be a pretty big boy and he might wake up if we move him too much,” he said persuasively, and after a hesitation, she nodded.

She showed him which room her two younger boys shared, and then went to the nursery with her baby.

Douglas laid Little Adam down very carefully, and then he couldn’t resist gently stroking the dark curls so like Gwyneth’s. He walked into the hallway just as she was coming out of the bedroom. She stood in the doorway a moment framed by the light of the open window. She was heartbreakingly beautiful and his heart was so full of love and yearning that he had to speak. He walked over to her until he was close enough to touch her, and she looked up at him.

“Oh Gwyneth,” he said, his voice throbbing with longing, “I’ve tried to forget you. God, how I’ve tried, but it’s no use. I love you as much as I did when I left Cloncurry.” He reached down and carefully removed her spectacles before taking her in his arms and beginning to kiss her.

Gwyneth knew she should resist his advances, but she didn’t want to. There was such hunger in his kisses, and they awoke an equal hunger in her. Yet, a little voice she couldn’t quite silence was reminding her that what she was doing was wrong.

Douglas was almost overcome by love and desire. He tore his mouth away to whisper, “I love you so.” As he reached up and began to unpin her hair, the little voice was screaming at Gwyneth and she pushed away.

“Douglas, I can’t do this. I can’t. It’s wrong,” she said, holding him at arm’s length.

“I love you so much, and you care for me. I know you do,” he pleaded.

I can’t lie to him and deny my feelings, she thought, but neither can I admit that I may be falling in love with him. “Mark is my husband, the father of my children,” she said, the strain evident in her voice. “I made a vow-a vow to keep myself only for him-and I won’t break that vow.”

“I can’t lose you again,” and Douglas’s voice was anguished.

“I was never yours to lose, Douglas,” she said firmly. “You know that.”

He turned away and startled her by slamming his fist into the wall. Then he stood silent, struggling for self-control. When he had mastered himself, he turned to face her. His voice was quiet but intense as he said, “I will go, but I’ll never stop loving you. If I hear that Pentreath has died, I’m coming back for you.”

After Douglas left, Gwyneth began to shake. She walked into the bedroom and sank down on the bed as her knees seemed to give way. She could still taste Douglas’s fevered kisses and her body still yearned to press close to his, to feel his caress. She dug her fingers into the coverlet, and took deep breaths. Then she glanced toward the nursery and felt her eyes burn as they filled with hot salty tears.

I came so close to wrecking all our lives, she thought as she drew a deep, shuddering breath. Things have got to change between Mark and me. I must make him see that he is shutting me and our children out of his life.

When Mark left the mine that evening, he was not bringing work home with him. He’d been thinking about Llywelyn’s words. It was true that Gwyneth hadn’t complained, but she’d been very quiet-even for Gwyneth-and the last few times he’d wanted to make love, she’d complained of a headache. He was beginning to wonder if those headaches had been a way of punishing him. And he didn’t like the idea of his boys seeing Llywelyn as a substitute father. His dad had been a remote figure in his childhood, always too tired to play with him when he got home from work. Mark understood now that his dad had been working hard to provide for his family, but he’d wanted a closer relationship with his own sons.

When he got home, the boys weren’t playing in the backyard as usual-there was no sign of them anywhere. When he went to take care of his horse, he noticed that Blackie was not in his stall. I suppose Jory and Ifor have gone for a ride, but I wonder where Benny and Little Adam are.

As he walked through the backdoor, he called, “Daddy’s home!” but no children came to greet him. Instead, Gwyneth came out of the library. When he kissed her in greeting, there was no response. “Where are the ankle biters?” he asked.

Gwyneth said quietly, “We need to talk, Mark, and I thought it best the children weren’t here. Jory is spending the night with Ifor; Benny and Little Adam are going to spend the night with my parents, and Aunt Matilda is going to keep Morwenna.” Mark frowned a little as Gwyneth turned toward the library saying, “Let’s talk in here.”

Instead of the leather armchairs that had been in the room when Gwyneth been growing up, there were two settees in the Arts and Craft style that Uncle Rhys had made for her and Mark. She sat on one and Mark sat beside her. She took a deep breath before speaking. “I should have talked with you before this,” she began. “Maybe you don’t realize it, Mark, but for some time now the children and I have been coming a poor second to the mine.” He started to interrupt, but she held up a hand and said, “Let me speak, please. I know the mine is important, but I also know Llywelyn doesn’t bring home work nearly every night nor did my daddy and Uncle Rhys when they ran the mine. I ask that you don’t bring work home unless it’s absolutely necessary. I would rather see you spend time with the boys.”

“You really think I’ve been neglecting them?” he asked, keeping a tight rein on his temper and struggling to remain dispassionate.

“Yes,” Gwyneth replied quietly. “Not intentionally,” she added hastily.

“And what about you? Do you also feel neglected?”

She dropped her eyes and said softly, “Yes, I do.”

“I’ve felt neglected as well with these headaches of yours,” he said, unable to keep the resentment from his tone.

“You work hard at the mine and I work hard taking care of our children and the house. Sometimes I am just too tired to feel loving,” she retorted, her tone sharp. Then she took a calming breath and said, “I don’t want to fight, Mark. If you’ll spend more time with the children, then I won’t refuse you your marital rights.”

“I don’t want it to be a duty,” he said. “You used to enjoy our lovemaking.”

“And you used to tell me that you loved me,” she stated quietly.

“But you know I love you.”

“I’d still like to hear it. But just hearing you say the words isn’t enough, Mark. You need to show me and the children that we’re more important to you than the mine,” she said, her voice low, intent.

He silently considered her words. He’d thought that she understood the long hours he worked were to ensure he could provide for her and their children, but she saw his work from an entirely different point of view. He realized that if he continued to bring work home and spend his evenings shut up in the library, he and Gwyneth would grow further apart. The only way to prevent that was to do as she asked and demonstrate to her that she and their children were more important than his work.

“I love you, Gwyneth Marie Pentreath, and I always will. I never meant for you or our children to feel the mine was more important to me,” he said earnestly. He leaned forward to kiss her. As they kissed, Gwyneth experienced the loving intimacy that had been missing from their relationship for too long, and she responded ardently.

Later as they lay side by side in their bed, she said, “There is something else I need to tell you, Mark.”

He kissed her before saying with a lazy smile, “I’m listening.”

“A couple of weeks ago, I had Little Adam with me at Cloncurry Stores and he was begging me to get him a lolly. Another customer heard him and bought him some.” She paused and Mark looked at her quizzically. “It was Douglas Campbell.”

Mark frowned and said, “I didn’t know he was in town.”

“His father is very ill and his mother asked him to come,” Gwyneth explained calmly. “Little Adam was quite taken with Douglas.” Mark’s frown changed to an angry scowl and Gwyneth said, “Douglas happened to walk down our street when I was sitting on the swing with Little Adam and Morwenna.”

“I bet he just ‘happened’ to be walking by,” Mark snarled.

“Little Adam ran to greet him and asked him to sit with us and tell him a story,” Gwyneth said then, keeping her voice emotionless.

“You didn’t let him,” Mark said, his eyes narrowing.

“It seemed harmless,” Gwyneth said, staring down at Mark’s hands, which were clenched into fists. “But Douglas and I agreed he would stay away from our street in the future.” Mark looked furious and Gwyneth said apprehensively, “Mark, please don’t be angry. He will stay away.”

She felt guilty that she was not telling Mark the whole truth, but she could bear the guilt if that was the price she must pay to protect her marriage.

“He’d better stay away,” Mark stated decisively. “You’re my wife, and he needs to remember that.” He looked at Gwyneth, lying beside him with her glorious hair tumbled all about her, and reached to delicately rub a silken curl between his fingers. I am a fool! Here’s Campbell hanging about, wanting to win her love at the very time she’s the most vulnerable since she’s unhappy with me. I know she would never betray me, but I don’t want her to stay with me out of duty. I want her to stay because she loves me.

He gently took her face between his hands and, gazing into her eyes, said, “My love, I know how lucky I am that you chose me as your husband. Forgive me for taking your love for granted.”

“I do with all my heart,” Gwyneth replied before capturing his mouth in a long sweet kiss.

The next morning Gwyneth went to get Morwenna first, only to be told by Daisy that Aunt Matilda had gone to visit her mama and taken Morwenna with her. As she walked onto the steps of the bungalow’s verandah, she could hear her baby crying so she hurried inside. Bronwen was pacing the library, trying to console her granddaughter, and she broke into a huge smile as soon as she saw her daughter.

“Mama is here, Morwenna,” Gwyneth said soothingly as she took the hysterical child from her mama. “It’s all right, Precious,” she continued, kissing Morwenna’s tearstained cheek and gently patting her back.

“She was fine last night,” Matilda said, “but when she woke up this morning, she wanted her mama. I thought her grandma might have better luck calming her.”

“But I didn’t, so I’m glad to see you,” Bronwen said with a smile. Just then Little Adam ran into the room, still wearing his pyjamas.

“G’day, Mama,” he said with a sunny smile. “Ga-ma made me ‘n’ Benny fapjacks. Me an’ Pa-pa drawed pictures. I drawed ‘Thena an’ Blackie an’ Doug-las.” Gwyneth winced a little at the mention of Douglas.

“Why don’t I help you get dressed so you can go home,” Matilda said, holding out her hand to the little boy, and they left.

“Douglas promised to stay away, and I explained that to Mark,” Gwyneth said quietly to her mama as she continued to pat Morwenna’s back.

“I hope Douglas keeps his promise,” Bronwen said quietly. Then she smiled slightly at her daughter. “Little Adam will forget Douglas more quickly if you just ignore it when he mentions him,” she advised, and Gwyneth nodded. “Besides, in another week, we’ll be on our way to Sydney, and that will take his mind off him. By the time we return, he’ll have forgotten all about Douglas.”