“The two bond over their mutual lack of family ties: Saul from his disownment, Miriam from the car accident that orphaned her as a college junior. Both want children. Miriam has inherited her parents' idea of procreative legitimacy, wants to compensate for her only-child-dom. She sees in Saul the househusband who will enable her parental ambitions without disabling her autonomy. In Miriam, Saul sees the means to a book-lined study and a lifestyle conducive to mystical advancement. They are both absolutely certain these things equal love.”

“Miriam wished for so much in those final moments. Yet as she closed her eyes, it was not regret any longer but a sensation of abundant peace that washed over her. She thought of her entry into this world, the harami child of a lowly villager, an unintended thing, a pitiable, regrettable accident. A weed. And yet she was leaving the world as a woman who had loved and been loved back. She was leaving it as a friend, a companion, a guardian. A mother. A person of consequence at last. No. It was not so bad, Miriam thought, that she should die this way. Not so bad. This was a legitimate end to a life of illegitimate belongings.”

“Miriam lifted her eyes from her sewing and found a glint of masculine lust in Owen's green eyes. Putting her sewing aside, she smiled nervously and got to her feet. "I...If you don't mind, I'll bid you good night, Mr. Vaughn."He nodded, not caring to stand. His smile was so youthful in its rakishness that Miriam began to wonder if he'd read her mind. "A gentleman stands when a lady gets up to leave the room, Mr. Vaughn," she snapped, more disgusted with herself than with his lack of manners.Owen shrugged but stood all the same. "Sweet dreams, Miriam," he taunted, deliberately taking the liberty of using her first name.Miriam grasped the hem of the little basque jacket she wore over her fashionable two-piece dress of red bombazine, and gave it an indignant tug. "Good night, Mr. Vaughn."”

“There was a young lady from GloucesterWho complained that her parents both bossed her,So she ran off to Maine.Did her parents complain?Not at all -- they were glad to have lost her.”

“Miriam really hates for me to ride to and from the ranch alone so your coming along should make her feel better. Right, Miriam?"Miriam cast her a don't-play-my-own-tricks-on-me look.For her benefactress's peace of mind, less than for Rider's knowledge, Willow added, "I've told Miriam she doesn't need to worry about me. I always carry a pistol."Rider's brows shot up. "You pack a gun?""Uh-huh, an old Colt .45. It was a present from Nick, my oldest brother.""And I bet you know how to shoot it, too." He smiled wryly."I ain't no quick draw, but I usually hit what I aim at.”

“Her feet now safely planted on level flooring, Willow nervously smoothed her skirts before lifting her head.Turquoise eyes met deep brown.Willow's mouth dropped open in shock. "Lieutenant Numbskull?"Rider stiffened, but recovered quickly. "Freckles?" he pretended surprise. Backing up a step, his appreciative gaze raked her from head to toe. "My God! It is you!"Willow's cheecks burned beneath his conspicuous appraisal. The lieutenant's pleased grin fueled her simmering anger at Miriam's unwelcome matchmaking venture. "What are you doing here?" she huffed.Rider arched a dark brow in ironic amusement. "Is that any way to greet an old friend...Freckles?""You two know each other?" Miriam interjected, astonished."You might say that." Rider chuckled.Willow didn't know who she wanted to murder most, Miriam or the lieutenant. But standing here in all her ladylike spendor, she remembered his hurtful maligning of her femininity. For some inexplicable reason she felt compelled to prove that she could be every bit as feminine as any other woman.Despite her stormy emotions, her next words dripped off her lips like warm honey. "Unfortunately, Miriam"-she caressed Rider's coat sleeve and flapped her lashes outrageously-"we were never formally introduced."Rider eyed Willow's hand where it petted his arm, expecting claws to spring from her fingertips at any moment. Then he lifted his gaze to twin pools of mischief. One corner of his mouth crved in a wry grin. "What are you up to, Freckles?"His devastating smile was unnerving. Suddenly all too aware of her ineptitude at coquetry. Willow's confidence slipped a notch. Nevertheless, she was determined not to let him intimidate her. Casting him what she hoped would pass for a coy smile, she answered his question with an innocent shrug.Miriam blinked, agog at Willows antics. "Well,ah...let me properly introduce you two. Mr. Sinclair, this is Miss Willow Vaughn. Willow, this is Mr. Rider Sinclair."Willow inclined her head with forced politeness. Rider tossed her a sly wink.Befuddled by the stratified undercurrents, Miriam sputtered. "I...ah...I'm sorry to hurry the introductions, but we really are late. My carriage is waiting out front for us. Shall we go?""But of course." Rider held the door open, indicating they should proceed him. "Ladies..."Willow waited while he closed the door, then draped herself over his proferred arm. Miriam took his other arm and cast a warning glance at the younger woman. The girl smiled back angelically, deciding Miriam deserved to worry-just a little.”