As she stood in the receiving line, Felicity met and greeted the guests with only half of her attention. The rest of it was focused on the photographs hanging around the room and the memories those photographs conjured. Joshua and the men, posing stiffly. Joshua and the rambling house that she loved. Joshua overriding Candace's objections and forcing her to have her picture made. Joshua and Felicity in their wedding clothes, trying not to laugh as Cody made the exposure. And Joshua alone, with desire shining in his eyes. How could she stand having strangers gawking over these private mementos?

And gawk they did. Everyone, it seemed, had come with no other purpose in mind but to examine her pictures. And one corner in particular was drawing more than usual attention. Finally, Felicity could stand the suspense no longer, and she left the receiving line to find out which picture had caused such a stir.

The group clustered there parted as she approached, creating an aisle between herself and the photograph in question. The next moment, Felicity found herself face-to-face with Joshua Logan, the man she loved with every fiber of her being. The man who had broken her heart. Anger and pain surged through her even as she acknowledged that she would give ten years of her life if he would just walk into the room at that moment.

"Oh, my," one woman was saying, "if any man ever looked at me like that, I'd simply die."

"But think what you'd be missing," another woman chided wickedly, causing a ripple of laughter among the group.

"Who on earth is he, my dear?" Elizabeth Evans asked Felicity.

"He's my husband," Felicity said defiantly, unable to suppress her churning emotions. Yes, she would give ten years and more to be in his arms once again. Longing shafted through her with aching swiftness. All the hurt and anger she had felt melted down into an empty pool of loneliness in the heat of his paper gaze.

"Was this picture taken before or after you married, Mrs. Logan?" the woman who had threatened to die inquired.

Felicity thought the question impertinent and rude, but she smiled with saccharine sweetness. "It was taken the day he first made love to me," she replied, momentarily forgetting to conduct herself like a perfect lady.

The woman gasped and her face turned an unbecoming shade of purple, but Felicity acted as if she did not notice. "Do you have any other questions?" she asked innocently.

The woman beat a hasty retreat, but the rest of the group closed in around Felicity. They all had questions, but none of them were rude. They wanted to know things like how long she had studied photography and who had taught her, and they had dozens of questions about the subjects of her photographs. Felicity turned her back on Joshua's picture and concentrated on the answers in an attempt to blot out the memories of her husband.

"You simply must do a portrait of me," Elizabeth Evans said later when some of the furor had died down. The two women had stopped to examine one of the portraits of Blanche Delano.

"But I don't have any of my equipment with me," Felicity protested, thinking what a wonderful subject Mrs. Evans would make. Felicity had often regretted not bringing her camera to Philadelphia since she would have loved to have a portrait of her grandfather, too. Perhaps if she took photographs here, they could help erase the memories these other pictures evoked.

"Nonsense," Elizabeth insisted. "Alex has a dozen cameras at home. He probably hasn't touched half of them in ten years. He even has a room set up for doing all those mysterious things that must be done in darkness. You're more than welcome to use any and all of it. Isn't that right, Alex?" she asked her husband, who had just joined them.

"Only if she promises to give me some pointers in plate making," he qualified.

Felicity protested that he probably did not need any pointers, but he insisted that he did.

Elizabeth interrupted their discussion. "What's this I hear about Alex wanting to put your pictures into the Photograpy Pavilion?"

Felicity found herself blushing at the reminder of the honor Mr. Evans had bestowed upon her. "Your husband thinks my work is good enough…"

"Of course it's good enough. That's not the problem. I just don't think the Photography Pavilion is the place for it. There will be over ten thousand pictures on display in that building. Your work would never get the attention it deserves among so many. Felicity," Elizabeth said, leaning close as if confiding something urgent, "there's also going to be a Women's Pavilion at the Exposition, where the accomplishments of women will be displayed. May we hang your pictures there? They're bound to get more attention…"

"Wait a minute!" Alex protested, but both women ignored him.

Felicity was considering what Elizabeth had said. She was right; with over ten thousand pictures being displayed, hers would be lost. For a moment she thought that might not be a bad idea. But Elizabeth wasn't finished with her arguments.

"You'll be the only woman photographer represented, Felicity. You owe it to all women everywhere to be recognized particularly for your ability. Someday you're going to be famous, and in becoming so, you will help other women enter the field, too."

As much as Felicity's nature rebelled at the thought of being singled out in such a way, and as much as she doubted Elizabeth's prediction about her future fame, she had to agree with her new friend's reasoning. If she could help other women, she should do so. "You're right. I think I would prefer my work to be exhibited in the Women's Pavilion."

Alex groaned dramatically as Elizabeth flashed him a victorious smile.

Felicity was just about to apologize to him when a familiar face appeared over his shoulder.

"Mr. Gordon!" she exclaimed.

Asa Gordon excused himself for interrupting, but the Evanses did not seem to mind, especially when they saw how happy Felicity was to see him. Elizabeth was eager to withdraw with her triumph, and she led a disgruntled Alex away. Felicity took both of Asa's hands in hers and had to fight the urge to fling her arms around his neck. The sight of him reminded her of home and good times, back when she and Joshua had been together.

"You promised to come and see us," she chastened him.

"And here I am," he replied with a smile.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," she said, shaking her head. But she was too happy to quibble.

"Our city must agree with you," he said, looking her over from head to toe. "I wouldn't have believed it possible, but you're even more beautiful than ever."

"And you're looking rather handsome yourself," she said, dimpling as she returned his examination. "I hardly recognized you in that outfit."

Asa glanced down sheepishly at his newly purchased evening clothes. "I hardly recognize myself, but they wouldn't let me in here if I hadn't dressed the part."

Felicity laughed at his dismayed expression, making him chuckle in return.

"How is Josh these days?" he inquired then.

Felicity fought the swift stab of pain the mention of her husband caused and valiantly kept her smile in place. "He's fine… I guess. I… I haven't heard much from him lately," she said, avoiding Asa's perceptive gaze.

But he easily read her distress. "Is anything wrong?" he asked in genuine concern.

"Oh no," she assured him brightly. "I'm sure he's just busy with the roundup. You know how men can be about letter writing." She saw the worried look on his face and feared his probing questions. To distract him, she said, "Have you seen the pictures of Blanche?"

Asa's gaze followed her gesture to the photograph hanging nearby, and for a moment his eyes clouded. "That one is my favorite," he said softly, reminding Felicity that he had seen these pictures before, in Texas.