Felicity thought she had already explained the procedure, but then recalled that he had not been present. "It takes another whole day to make the prints. They have to sit in the sun for a few hours, and then…" She let her voice trail off in the face of his scowl.

Josh felt a slight sense of unease. He had been counting on getting rid of her tomorrow. "You'll be all finished by tomorrow evening, though, won't you?" he asked, calculating that a few hours one way or the other shouldn't make that much difference.

Felicity's eyes widened in surprise. "I can't do the developing tomorrow," she said.

"Why not?" Josh demanded, feeling his unease growing. It was all some sly female trick. He knew it. She was making this all up just so she would have an excuse to stay longer.

"Because tomorrow is the sabbath," she informed him. "I can't work on Sunday!"

Josh stared at her in disbelief. She was serious! Before he could challenge her statement, however, someone called, "Where did you want this bench, Miss Felicity?" and she strode away to issue some more orders.

It might very well be a sly female trick, but it was a good one, he acknowledged. How could he fault her for being religious? How could he order her to finish up her work tomorrow when it was against her principles? She had him, and she had him good. She would be here another two days. At least.

"I want everyone in this picture," she called out when the bench had been positioned to her satisfaction with the ranch house directly behind it. "Mr. Logan, you sit right here in the middle. Mr. Grady and Cookie, you sit on either side of him. The rest of you line up behind…"

She kept on talking, moving people around so that everyone was lined up by height, and Josh found himself obeying her just the way everyone else did. He had decided it would be foolish to do otherwise.

By the time the sun began to fade, taking with it the last of the necessary light, Felicity was running purely on nervous energy. All day she had felt as she often did during thunderstorms when she and her father were alone on the prairie: scared and fidgety, with every nerve tingling in the electrically charged air. She could have blamed it on the excitement of her first time doing a photography session alone. She could even have blamed it on the heady sensation of being the center of attention for some very attentive cowboys. She knew that neither of those situations was responsible for her state, however. Mr. Logan was responsible.

Even though she had tried to forget about the kiss, had even succeeded in partially distracting herself with the work, there was something about his presence that shimmered in the air like a tangible glow, brightening Felicity's world and sharpening everything to crystal clarity. The timbre of his voice thrummed through her body, tingling places she didn't even have a name for, and making her feel as if she wanted to jump right out of her skin.

Or jump right into his arms.

That was really what made her so nervous, the memory of how wonderful she had felt in his arms, at least until he had frightened her. And the knowledge that she wouldn't mind being there again under the right conditions. Of course, there were no "right conditions." Such behavior was evil and wanton. She would do well to remember that and do what Mr. Logan had commanded and forget it ever happened. Except she couldn't.

So she was only too happy to announce, "I'm afraid this is the last one. I've lost the light," as she closed the lens cap on what seemed to be the umpteenth portrait that day. Back in the wagon, she stood by silently as she allowed Cody to develop the final negative.

He had caught on surprisingly quickly, but then, she reminded herself, she had, too, once upon a time. The job wasn't really difficult, just time-consuming. It was making the plates in the first place that required the skill, spreading the collodion evenly so that no bubbles or bumps would appear in the final pictures and so the plate could evenly absorb the exposure. Shooting the pictures themselves also required skill and an eye for what would look good in a photograph. The making of the final prints required yet another level of skill, to judge the length of time required to develop the proper tones.

"Miss Felicity?" Cody asked.

"Yes?"

"Do you think… I mean… could you teach me how to make pictures? How to do the plates and all the rest of it?"

The wagon was too dark to see his face, but Felicity could imagine the eagerness that would be lighting his eyes. She hated to have to turn him down.

"I can show you how to make the prints, and I'd be glad to show you the rest of it, too, except…" Her voice trailed off wistfully as she experienced a sharp jab of disappointment.

"Except what?" he urged.

Felicity sighed. "Except that I won't be around here much longer to teach you anything." There, she had said it, and it sounded even worse than she could have imagined.

"Where are you going?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"I… I don't know," she admitted reluctantly.

She heard Cody turn to face her in the confines of the wagon. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked.

"I mean, I haven't decided yet," she amended, trying to soften the impact of her words, as much for her own benefit as for Cody's. "Mr. Logan has told me I can't stay here and-"

"I know. He told me that, too," Cody said. "But surely you'll settle someplace nearby."

"Like I said, I haven't decided yet," she said, feeling all the hopelessness of her situation.

"Don't you worry none," Cody comforted her. "Mr. Logan'll see that you're taken care of."

"Thank you, Cody," she said, grateful for his concern but uncertain whether she was grateful that Mr. Logan would be taking care of her. She found the idea quite disturbing.

Josh stood outside, leaning up against a live oak tree and smoking a cigarette. He was watching the wagon, waiting for Felicity-and Cody-to come out. The other men were busy carrying the props from the photographs back where they had come from, but Josh was only vaguely aware of their movements at the corner of his range of vision. All his attention was focused on the wagon. All his thoughts were focused on the occupant of the wagon.

So she was going to be around for a while, he thought, knowing that the fact should disturb him but only mildly surprised to find he was rapidly getting used to the idea. She really was a pretty little thing. And she could cook. And although he hadn't kissed another woman in quite a while, he could not remember ever enjoying it more. Felicity. Even her name had a pleasant sound about it.

Candace had been watching the direction of Josh's gaze and finally strolled over to where the rancher was standing. "What do you suppose is taking them so long?" she asked casually.

Josh frowned. He had been wondering the same thing himself. He threw down his cigarette and ground it out with his boot heel. Then he strode purposefully over to the wagon.

Just as he reached it, though, the door came open, and Felicity stepped out. "All we have left to do is put the camera away…" She completely forgot what she was saying when her gaze met Mr. Logan's. "Is something wrong?" she asked, certain that there must be from the look on his face.

Cody ducked out the wagon door behind her and reared back at the sight of Mr. Logan's expression.

Josh looked at her and then at Cody and then back at her again, comforted by how innocent they both looked. If Cody had designs on the girl, he was moving very slowly. Josh forced his tensed muscles to relax and managed a reassuring smile. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just coming over to see if you were about finished."

"Almost," Felicity murmured, a little nonplussed by the sight of his smile. "We just have to…" His eyes narrowed, making her lose her train of thought again.