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wonderful just to have him back."
    Alex met Carolyn's eyes across the table, between the bickering siblings. The light was a soft glow of candlelight, and for a moment she let herself be drawn in by the sheer intensity of his eyes, the rich, disturbing promise of his mouth. "Are they always like this?" he asked with just the right note of amusement.
    Carolyn was not amused. "Don't you remember?"
    He rose, towering over the table and stretching with lazy, unconscious grace. No true MacDowell would ever stretch, Carolyn thought, surreptitiously moving her cramped muscles. They were all too well bred, too carefully instilled with polite behavior.
    "They used to argue about me," he said.
    "They still do."
    Sally looked up mid-tirade, her faded eyes troubled. "I'm sorry, darling. You shouldn't have to listen to us two old buzzards arguing on your first night back."
    "Don't call me old," Warren snapped. "You're ten years older than I am."
    "And dying to boot," Sally snapped back. "You're old, I'm antique." She wheeled her chair away from the table. "You go along now, the pair of you. And Carolyn, send Mrs. Hathaway in to help me, would you? I'm quite tired."
    "You don't need the nurse tonight," Carolyn protested. "I can help you—"
    "I wouldn't think of it, dearest," Sally said fondly. "What's the use of having a private nurse on call if I don't use her? Besides, I'm having a bit of … discomfort. She can give me a shot."
    Sally never admitted to pain. A MacDowell never did. She probably referred to her long, hard labor to bring forth the two-week-overdue Alexander MacDowell as a slight twinge. According to family legend, she'd spent two weeks in a private hospital, refusing all visitors until she emerged with her infant son.
    "If that's what you want," Carolyn said reluctantly, knowing when she was beaten. She wouldn't stay with Sally until she slept, but no force on this earth could make her spend the rest of the evening in Alex's company. "I'm tired as well. If you don't mind, I'll just head for bed."
    "Carolyn, you can't leave Alex alone on his first night back!" Sally protested.
    " Warren 's here." It sounded rude, almost a refusal, and Carolyn had never refused Sally any of the small requests she'd made of her over the years.
    "You and I both know that Warren is a pest who'll start cross-examining Alex the moment he gets a chance. Now, don't glare at me, Warren, I know you can hear me, and I have no qualms saying it to your face. Carolyn will keep you both company and make sure you leave Alex alone."
    "You want her to spy on me, is that it?" Warren demanded huffily.
    "I want you to behave yourself," Sally said, her voice fading. "I just wish I felt well enough to throw a party—"
    Carolyn felt sick horror fill her at the very thought. "Don't worry about parties, Aunt Sally," she said swiftly. "Just concentrate on getting better."
    "Don't be absurd, child. I'm not going to get any better and we both know it."
    "I don't know any such thing—"
    "Keep your fantasies if it makes you feel better," Sally said with a weak wave of her hand. "At least Alex can face the truth."
    It shouldn't have hurt, Carolyn thought, allowing no expression to cross her face. She'd worked that all out years ago. She stood quite still as the imposter moved past her to take Sally's band in his strong, tanned one. Sally loved her, she knew that. There was no reason to feel bereft, abandoned.
    "Get some rest, Mother," the liar said softly, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "I'll be here in the morning."
    Sally sighed happily. "You don't know how long I've wanted to hear someone call me Mother again. Good night, dearest." She reached up and touched his face with a gentle caress.
    And Carolyn slipped quietly out the door.
    * * *
    It was a still, cold night, with the quarter moon hanging low in the sky. In a few days the unnatural cold would lift, the heavy wet snowfall would melt away into nothingness, and spring could once more begin its slow assault on