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hadn’t realized until now that she’d continued to think of Peter as the boy she knew, grown up in size but still shy, sweet, and mild-mannered. It wasn’t just Peter’s body that had grown and matured. He was no longer the same person inside or out. He seemed so much bigger than she’d imagined, so much more virile, so much more intimidating. The idea of going into a bedroom alone with him frightened her. The idea of its being Uncle Carl’s bedroom petrified her.
    “Don’t be shy,” Dolores prodded. “You’re a married woman now.”
    “I don’t feel married. It all happened so suddenly.”
    “It’s not half as sudden as being hauled off by Cyrus,” Dolores said. “He’d have wrestled you down in the dust before you’d gotten a mile from here.”
    The truth of that statement didn’t make Anne feel any better.
    “You can sleep in your own room tonight if that’ll make you feel better,” Peter offered.
    Anne brightened immediately and opened her mouth to gratefully accept his suggestion.
    “She can’t do that,” Dolores said. “Nobody will believe she’s married if she doesn’t sleep in your bed.”
    “They won’t know,” Peter said.
    “It’ll be all over the ranch by noon tomorrow. Belser would like nothing better. He doesn’t like Anne, and he hates you. It would support his argument that you’re not Peter and you didn’t marry Anne.”
    “But I did,” Peter said.
    “But you can’t prove it, not without those papers you’ve got to send for.”
    “How will Belser know where we’re sleeping?” Peter asked.
    “He’ll listen at the door,” Anne said. “If you don’t lock it, he’s liable to come in and look. He sneaks around the house, prying into everything when he thinks no one is looking.”
    “Anybody who opens my bedroom door without knocking and being invited in is liable to get shot.”
    “You could lock your door,” Eddie said.
    “I’m not locking my bedroom door,” Peter said. “Especially in my own house.”
    Anne could tell he added that last as an afterthought. She guessed he was having trouble getting used to the idea of owning the ranch. Strange, but after all these months of hoping and planning, waiting anxiously and praying Peter would arrive in time, now that it had actually happened, it didn’t seem real to her, either. Maybe that was why she felt so reluctant to sleep in the same bed. She’d been a fool to think seeing Peter again would be like picking up where they’d left off ten years before, but his letters had seemed so much like the Peter she remembered, that was exactly what she had expected.
    But Peter in person was quite different from Peter in a letter. She didn’t feel she knew him at all.
    “I guess there’s nothing else to do but go up together,” Peter said, holding out his hand again.
    Anne hesitated.
    “Go on with him,” Dolores urged. “I know it seems strange to actually have him here after waiting all these months, but you’ll soon get used to it.”
    Peter smiled reassuringly. “I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”
    “You can’t do that!” Dolores exclaimed.
    “I can do anything I want,” Peter said. “It’s my house, my bride, and my wedding night.”
    “Come on,” Eddie said to Dolores. “Let’s leave them to figure out things for themselves.”
    Dolores looked reluctant to leave, but Eddie pushed her from the room. Anne felt as though her last support had vanished.
    Peter picked up the oil lamp, the only light left in the room. “You’re going to have to lead the way,” he said. “I don’t remember where anything is.”
    Anne led the way into the hall and up the stairs. Each step seemed to take her irrevocably closer to something she’d thought she wanted but now found frightening.
    “Who sleeps in these rooms?” Peter asked.
    “I slept in one, Belser one, and Uncle Carl one. The other two are for guests.”
    “Did he have many guests?”
    “Lots. Belser had to sleep in the