"Stand up with me?" Felicity repeated, uncertain exactly what that meant.

"Yes," Blanche explained. "You need a woman to stand with you for the wedding, and Joshua will have a man, the best man and the maid of honor."

Felicity turned to Candace, the only female friend she had in the world, but Candace shook her head slightly. No, a Negro servant could not witness the wedding. "Mrs. Delano might do it, if you asked her real nice," Candace suggested.

Blushing slightly, Felicity turned back to Mrs. Delano. "Would you?" she asked.

"Would I ever!" Blanche agreed, vastly pleased. "Won't that set the tongues to wagging? Poor Blanche Delano had to stand up at Josh Logan's wedding! I can hear it now!"

Not quite able to understand why Blanche would be so happy at the prospect of being gossiped about, Felicity managed only a thin smile. "Thank you," she said, but Blanche waved her gratitude away with a sweep of her elegant hands.

"Well, I reckon you've got lots to do, so I'll be on my way. I haven't even had time to unpack from my trip yet! Thank you for the tea." Blanche rose, leaving her untouched cup behind.

Felicity walked her out, still feeling a little overwhelmed. Blanche paused at the front door and took Felicity's hand again. "I know all this must seem a little frightening to you. If you need a friend, you can count on me. Candace will take good care of you, too, I know. Just remember not to let Joshua have things his own way all the time. That spoils a man faster than anything."

"I won't," Felicity promised, smiling in spite of herself. She vividly remembered how she had refused him the night before and began to feel a little better about herself.

"I'll come early on Saturday to help you get ready. Do you have a dress?" Blanche asked.

"I'm going to town today for one," Felicity replied.

"Good. Then I'd really better get going so you can be on your way. Good luck!" she called over her shoulder as she sailed across the porch and down the steps to her waiting buggy.

Feeling slightly exhausted from her encounter with the amazing Mrs. Delano, Felicity stood in the front doorway and waved as Blanche drove her buggy out of the ranch yard.

Standing in the yard, Josh watched Blanche leave with a feeling of relief. The woman was too forward by half. Imagine asking him outright why he'd never taken her to bed. And the things she'd said about Felicity. Josh shook his head in wonder, wishing Sam Delano had taken a firmer hand with his outspoken wife to cure her of her boldness. Since it was now far too late for such a remedy, Josh shifted his attention to the woman who would be his own wife.

She was still standing in the doorway looking slightly dazed from meeting Blanche. Meeting Blanche could do that to a person, Josh knew, recalling that Blanche had actually mellowed through the years. When he had first met her, twelve years earlier, she had smoked cigars and cursed like a man. Blanche was not the type of woman he wanted to influence his wife. He took the porch stairs two at a time.

"What did she say to you?" he demanded of Felicity.

Felicity blinked, startled at his tone. "We talked about the wedding," she said, extremely conscious of how close he was standing and loath to tell him what else they had discussed. "I asked her to stand up with me."

"You did what?" Josh exploded.

But Felicity did not flinch. She remembered what Blanche had warned her about. Straightening to her full height, she looked right into his gray eyes. "I asked her to stand up with me. Who else was I supposed to ask? I don't know a single other woman except Candace."

Josh scowled at her, unable to argue with her reasoning but unwilling to accept it either. This wedding was turning into a regular circus. People would be talking about it for the next hundred years. He changed the subject. "If you're ready, let's go. I'll tell Gus to hitch the wagon." Again, he added silently. Maybe this time they would get away without incident.

They did, but by the time they were out of sight of the ranch, Felicity began to grow uneasy at the prospect of being alone with him for a long period of time. "How far is it to town?" she asked.

"An hour or so," he replied without looking at her.

Felicity knew he was still angry, although why he should be, she had no idea. If she had thought for one minute he was upset about Mrs. Delano being her matron of honor, she would have brought the subject up again and cleared the air. Some instinct told her his fury had nothing to do with that, however, so she remained silent, acutely aware of his body so close to hers on the wagon seat.

Once again she got that strange ache, deep inside of her. Even in the open air with the stiff Texas breeze whipping around where they sat high on the wagon seat, she could still smell his musky, masculine scent. She knew exactly how hard and warm his body would feel if she were to reach out and touch him. Curling her hands into fists against the temptation, Felicity tried to concentrate on watching the passing scenery. Unfortunately, the unbroken line of the prairie and the broad canopy of blue sky provided inadequate distraction.

It was only natural to feel the way she did, she supposed, after what had happened between them. Part of it was apprehension over the possibility that he might yet change his mind about marrying her. But what was the other part? Surely one lapse had not turned her into a complete wanton, and yet she could not stop the feelings of desire that tortured her every time he came near. What would become of her if he turned her out after all? She shivered slightly at the thought.

Josh slapped the horses to hurry them along. He was not enjoying the ride. Having Felicity so close, where he could feel her every move and practically sense her every emotion, was pure torture. Earlier, when Blanche had arrived, he had been anticipating taking Felicity in his arms. The sharp edge of that desire still prodded him, stirring memories of the way she felt and tasted, the way she yielded in sweet surrender.

Knowing that an open wagon on a public road was hardly the place to indulge such an impulse did nothing to improve his mood.

But that wasn't the only thing bothering him. As strongly as he wanted her, he still suffered from the guilt of having taken her once. Although he had denied it at the time, the truth was that he had seduced her, plain and simple. He had ignored her protests and taken advantage of her innocence to have his way. The knowledge disturbed him, and even the fact that he intended to marry her did little to ease his conscience.

"I want you to buy whatever you need in town," guilt prompted him to say. "I want you to have a fancy white wedding dress, so buy the best material they have." That should please her, he thought. Only the very privileged could indulge in the custom of wearing white on their wedding day. Felicity stared at him in amazement. What on earth was he thinking of? "I can't wear white," she said in a strained voice, only too conscious of how risky it might be to displease him by refusing his wishes.

Josh frowned, a little surprised at her reaction. Of course, a white dress would not be of much use to a rancher's wife. Maybe she was only being sensible. "I know it's not practical and that you'll probably never be able to wear it for anything else, but I told you, I want this wedding to be fancy." He glanced over at her to be sure she understood that he wanted the best for her. She turned away from him instantly, but he still caught a glimpse of her face. Her expression startled him.

"I can't wear white," Felicity explained through stiff lips, "because of what happened." Too mortified to meet his eyes, she studied her clenched fists instead.

A full minute passed before Josh comprehended her meaning. When he did, he jerked the team to a dead halt in the middle of the road. "What the hell does that mean?" he demanded.