"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Maxwell," Josh muttered with an ironic smile that made Henry Maxwell's eyes narrow speculatively. So the old man was sizing him up, was he? Well, it was no more than Josh had expected, and he was ready. The only thing he hadn't been prepared for was Felicity's reaction to this situation. He had seen the awed expression on her face as she took in the magnificence of the Maxwell mansion. The fact that meeting her grandfather had made her forget that she even had a husband-for however brief a time-also disturbed him. But he would not let the old man see his concern. Instinct warned him that Maxwell would pounce on any weakness.

Maintaining his smile, Josh carried a chair over to the table and sat down beside Felicity, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Henry Maxwell examined them with interest and then proceeded to study Josh's face.

"That's quite a head of hair you have there, young man," he said. "What have you done to earn it?"

Josh did not even blink. "I married your granddaughter."

Neither man seemed to hear Felicity's surprised gasp. Gunmetal-gray eyes stared into faded blue ones in a silent battle of wills as the two men took each other's measure. After a very long minute, Maxwell said, "She must be just like her mother. Claire always was more trouble than any two women put together."

Felicity frowned. What could her grandfather mean? She knew perfectly well how gentle and serene her mother had been. Or did she? Before she could think to ask about it, however, Richard's voice cut into her thoughts.

"Joshua is a rancher in Texas. He owns twenty thousand cows," Richard reported. Felicity thought she heard an undercurrent of envy in his tone.

"Twenty thousand, eh?" Maxwell mused. "You must be doing well, then."

"We eat regular," Josh allowed, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture of challenge. He decided not to point out to Richard that not all his cattle were "cows."

Tired of this male sparring, Felicity tossed Joshua a warning look and said, "I brought you a present, Grandfather. Would you like to see it?"

"A present?" he repeated, his attention shifting back to her. "Yes, I would like to see it."

"I'll go get it," she offered, and started to rise, but Maxwell motioned for her to stay still.

"Hastings will fetch it for you," he said. Another servant whom Felicity had not even noticed before stepped forward and listened intently to Felicity's instructions to fetch the red carpetbag that Mr. Logan had carried in with him.

Felicity reflected that a person could get mighty lazy living in this house.

"That's a lovely dress, my dear," Maxwell said when Hastings had gone.

"Oh, thank you," Felicity said, flushing slightly. "It's my wedding dress." Self-consciously, she touched one of the buttons at her throat.

Maxwell watched the motion thoughtfully. "I'll bet you made it yourself, too," he ventured.

"Why, yes, I did," Felicity admitted, a little amazed that he should guess.

Richard turned his head and coughed, but she barely noticed. Maxwell simply smiled. "Well, she's clever as well as pretty, Richard. I can see you have a real eye for style, my dear. Perhaps while you're here, you'll allow me to buy you a few more gowns."

Felicity shook her head, smiling to soften her refusal. "I don't need any clothes, Grandfather. Mr. Logan is very good to me. I already have more dresses than I can wear."

"Nonsense," Maxwell chuckled. "A pretty girl never has too many dresses. Besides, your friends will be disappointed if you don't come back with something in the height of fashion to show them. Indulge an old man his whimsy, will you? It has been too many years since I was allowed to buy something pretty for a beautiful young woman."

Felicity glanced at her husband. Misreading his expression, she guessed that he was displeased by her grandfather's offer. "No, really-" she began, but Josh cut her off.

"My wife is an unusual woman, Mr. Maxwell. She was brought up to scorn material possessions," Josh explained, ignoring Felicity's disgruntled frown. He really was angry, but not, as Felicity supposed, at her grandfather's offer. For the first time he had seen her beautiful wedding dress through Henry Maxwell's eyes and realized how hopelessly provincial she must appear. Why hadn't he anticipated this? Why hadn't Blanche anticipated it? They could have stopped off in Dallas for a few days to get Felicity some stylish clothes from Blanche's dressmaker. But it was too late now. He would just have to be gracious, in spite of how much it galled him to see the pity Richard and Maxwell could barely conceal. "Felicity and I had our first argument over how elaborate her wedding dress should be. As you can see, she won."

"Mr. Logan!" Felicity remonstrated, ready to point out that she hadn't even wanted a gown as elaborate as the one he had forced her to select, but he gave her no chance.

"I think you'll hurt your grandfather's feelings if you refuse his generous offer," Josh told her gently.

This left her momentarily speechless, since she had only continued to refuse because she thought Joshua disapproved. "Well, all right," Felicity finally agreed, somehow managing a gracious smile.

At that moment, Hastings returned with the carpetbag. Felicity fished inside and produced the decorated box. With a combination of trepidation and anticipation, she placed it on the table in front of her grandfather.

Maxwell gave her a long, considering look, and then he flipped open the box. He stiffened immediately. "Photographs," he said, spitting out the word as if it were vile. "I suppose your father took them."

Felicity watched the warmth in his eyes freeze solid, and for one second she gave thanks that she had included none of her father's pictures in this collection. If her father had hated Henry Maxwell enough to keep her from him all these years, then Henry Maxwell returned that hate tenfold, judging from his expression.

"No, Grandfather," she hastened to explain. "These are all photographs that I took. Some of them are of our ranch in Texas, and our friends. The one on top is our house with all our ranch hands posed in front of it."

But Maxwell wasn't looking at the photographs. He looked instead at Felicity, his eyes narrowed speculatively.

" You took these?"

"Yes, my… my father taught me how," she said, rushing on when she saw his eyes harden again. "Some people think they're pretty good. I'm pleased with them myself." Felicity gave him a tentative smile and reached out to slide the top photograph out of the way. "And this is Mr. Logan, of course," she said, pointing to the next picture.

Finally, Maxwell looked down at the pictures. He studied the one of Joshua and then picked it up to get a closer look. "When was this taken?" he asked, peering suspiciously at Josh over the top of the picture.

"That… that was the day Mr. Logan… the day he proposed to me," Felicity stammered as she recalled her own reaction upon seeing Joshua's expression in that picture for the first time. Remembering what else had happened the day she took that photograph, she felt her cheeks grow hot, but fortunately, her grandfather was not looking at her.

"I should hope he did," Maxwell remarked acerbically to Josh, who glared back defiantly. Once more the two men engaged in a silent battle of wills, which ended when Maxwell finally laid down the photograph and picked up the next one. "And who is this?" he asked with great interest.

"That's our neighbor, Mrs. Delano," Felicity explained. For the next half hour, she gave him a running account of their life in Texas as revealed in the photographs. After a while, even Richard moved closer so he could see them, too.

"These are really very good," Maxwell commented thoughtfully as he flipped back through the pictures, stopping every now and then to examine one more closely. "My granddaughter is very clever, isn't she, Richard?"