Amazingly enough, they managed to sleep very well, although they were a little longer getting to sleep, and really, only exhaustion drove them down.

Several times, Trey dreamed that he was sleeping with his love in his arms, and a couple of times he woke up, to discover her warm body pressed close to his, her head on his shoulder, the smell of her hair in his face. They were pleasant dreams, and the reality was even nicer.

They slept late the next morning and took their time getting around. It was only a relatively short jump to Weatherford, on the south side of Camden, a little more than an hour's drive from Spearfish Lake. As soon as he was awake enough to think clearly, Trey realized it was late enough that any hope of going to Spearfish Lake before the show was futile; they'd no more than get there when they'd have to turn around and come back. He did think to call Blake, who said, yes, there were a couple boxes of Harp Strings in the garage, and he'd bring them down. Blake also told them that there was going to be a big contingent from Spearfish Lake at the show, people who had wanted to see Myleigh in solo concert, and now was the time.

So, after a leisurely breakfast they decided to head for Weatherford and get it over with. Things were different now between them; a lot of water had washed under the bridge yesterday, and especially last night. There were plenty of questions to answer, questions about the future, but for today, just being together and in love was enough for them.

Somewhere outside Pettisville, Myleigh snickered, and said, "My hero, do you realize how lucky you are?"

"To have you?" he smiled. "There's no way I could be more lucky."

"Not that," she smiled. "I cannot believe that you have spent all the time around Randy and Crystal and Nicole, and some others, without hearing that story."

"Another story?" he said with a frown.

"Oh, this is a good one," she smiled. "From my first night at Northern, I started to receive horrible complaints from Crystal, and indeed, others in nearby rooms about how badly I snored."

"You don't snore," he said flatly.

"I don't now," she said. "In fact, for a long time, I didn't believe that I did. However, others differed. Crystal once characterized it as being like someone trying to cut a steel spike with a chainsaw. Randy differed. He said it was like someone tuning up a Harley. There was no way I could believe it could be that bad, until one night, a session at Jennifer and Blake's ran rather late, and during a break, I fell asleep. Upon my awakening, Blake played a track of the sounds I was making. I was of course defensive, but then, Shovelhead took a light and examined my throat and nasal passages, making me wonder what was going on, to have them studied by this motorcycle mechanic like they were the inner workings of a carburetor. Finally, he asked how long it had been since I'd seen a doctor. I told him it had been some years; I was in good health, and with no insurance I could not afford such services. He told me to drop by the office the next morning, and he'd give me a more thorough exam." She stopped and shook her head. "I had been playing with Shovelhead off and on for months, over a year, and in that time had not realized that he was the leading physician in town."

"Shovelhead?" Trey exclaimed with amazement. He'd been working with the big, burly, mean-looking biker for months himself, and he'd never gotten a whiff of that!

"Oh, indeed," Myleigh grinned. "He is in fact Jennifer's physician, and delivered Jeremy. He gave me a most thorough examination, and offered me the opportunity to be examined by a leading ear, nose, and throat specialist at no charge. I was informed that the snoring could be fixed with surgery at no risk to my singing voice, but as the operation was expensive, I had to wait until I had insurance coverage. I had it performed on spring break last year. I submit that had I held it off until my musical career had reached this point, I should not have dared risk it, but as it was relatively meaningless at that point, I had it performed. If anything, it improved my voice. Had I not had it done, you might have found yourself wearing earplugs all night, as Crystal and Olivia often were forced to do."

"Someone tuning up a Harley, huh?" he smiled. "Yeah, that might have made things a little different."

"In fact, the only roommate I had that did not complain of it was Paula, at Cornell." Myleigh smiled. "She was nearly profoundly deaf and had to use hearing aids in both ears. There were others, Crystal and Olivia especially, who often wished that I could be turned off that easily."

"I have to ask," he said. "Did Randy use earplugs?"

"Of course not," she snickered. "Randy is too much a gentleman, as are you." She sighed. "Of course, sleep did not come easily for him on those rare nights." She was silent for a moment, then asked quietly, "Trey, do you mind that I have had other lovers, of both genders?"

"Not if you don't mind that I've had a couple, myself," he said. "Of the opposite gender, that is. As far as Olivia goes, well, I take a look at Jennifer and Blake, and I can't see where I'd have any grounds to object, even if I did have an objection, which I don't."

"Ever the gentleman, Trey, ever the gentleman."

"Let's just say that it gives us good reason to wait until December," he said. "That does make it more special."

"It does indeed," she smiled. "As I said, you are ever the honorable gentleman, and you have no idea of how lucky I feel to find someone who's willing, even eager, to put up with my past and my quirks."

"It's part of what makes you interesting," he said. "You make life very interesting, and I hope that will never change."

* * *

Even with leaving late, they were quite early getting to Weatherford. Myleigh had been there before, a couple of times -- Nicole had occasionally provided her transportation between Athens and Spearfish Lake. But she didn't know the campus well, and it took a little looking to find the building where the concert was scheduled. Since the door was open, they decided to go in and check it out. They discovered an older man in slacks and a sweater backstage checking the sound system, and introduced themselves.

"I'm Dick Stein," he said. "Actually, Dr. Stein. I chair the music department. Since I knew you were coming, I thought I might as well make sure that everything was working all right."

There were an amp and speakers in the Cougar, which they often had to use for performances, but Trey preferred to use an auditorium's sound system if he could -- the speakers were usually better than any he could haul in the car. He spent a few minutes working with them, while Myleigh sang some quick tests for him in the microphone. "Couldn't be better," was Trey's verdict.

"We have that reception coming up," Dr. Stein said. "But that's a while off. Would you like me to show you around the department?"

Trey could think of other things to do, but it was the gracious thing, so he had no objection when Myleigh agreed to the offer. It wasn't a bad department; from what Trey could see, they did some good work there. They walked through three or four rooms, and in the back of a practice auditorium, Myleigh saw something that brought her to a full stop -- a full-sized concert harp, sitting large and golden. "Dr. Stein," she said. "Might I try that for a moment? I have never had the opportunity to work with a concert harp."

"Feel free," he said. "I don't want to guess what kind of tune it's in. We haven't had anyone here in years who could play it." Myleigh marched right over to it, strummed a few notes, and got a big smile on her face. As Trey and Dr. Stein watched, she found a chair, pulled it in back of the harp, tipped the soundboard back on her shoulder, and started in on Baby Elephant Walk. Trey could tell the tune was off more than a little, but the sound of the harp was rich and proud, much fuller than Blue Beauty could produce even with amplification. "Oh, my," Myleigh said warmly. "Trey, did I tell you what I want for Christmas?"

"If what you want for Christmas is what I think you want for Christmas," he grinned. "Then what I want for Christmas is a minivan, maybe a full-size, to haul a big honker like that around in."

"You are correct, Dr. Stein, the tune is dreadful, but that is easily corrected," she replied. "You know, I'd almost be half tempted to take it on stage tonight, but I feel like I should have at least a little practice with it."

"It's pretty dirty," Trey offered. "It needs a serious attack with Brasso, but it'd shine right up. Myleigh, I don't think we have time enough to clean it up, tune it up, and give you some practice time with it before we have to do the reception."

"Alas, you are correct, I fear," she said. "Dr. Stein, would someone be around here over the holidays, that I might work with it a little? Trey and I have plans for December, but they might include some time in the vicinity."

"I'm sure that could be arranged," he said, glancing at his watch. "And, you're right, there's no time to do it now. Maybe you'd like to clean up a bit before the reception."

"Yes, I should appreciate the time to prepare," Myleigh said, stealing another loving eye at the tarnished brass of the concert harp. Trey did not need to be a psychic to get a glimpse at that part of the future.

Forty-five minutes later, they were at the reception, which was being held in a large room at the front of the auditorium. Myleigh, of course, looked stunning in an evening gown, and Trey had put on a suit jacket and tie, at least partly so he wouldn't feel quite as out of place next to her. There was only a handful of people there at the beginning, including Dr. Stein. While Trey sampled the hors d'oeuvres -- they were going to wind up skipping supper with this, although they'd had a good lunch -- he noticed that Myleigh was in earnest discussion with Dr. Stein, and two men and a woman he'd not met yet. He drifted closer and discovered the discussion was about English literature, and didn't have much to do with music. While Trey had developed an appreciation for the subject that he'd never had before the class with Myleigh a year ago, the time he'd spent with her had given him more than a smattering of it, although he'd never be a tenth the expert in the subject that she was. Without thinking too much about it, he drifted away, looking for someone to be friendly with.

Someone soon arrived -- in fact, many arrived, and soon there was a pretty good crowd, running more toward faculty, but with several people they knew from Spearfish Lake. Jennifer and Blake, of course, Randy and Nicole, Shovelhead -- no, Trey thought, Dr. Metarie -- no, damn it, Shovelhead and his wife, Lex -- even the Carter family, including Wendy, out of the house in her powered wheelchair. It was good to see them all again; it had only been a couple months, less actually, and now, at least for a few minutes it seemed like home. He found people to talk to among them. He said nothing about his conversation with Myleigh the night before -- they hadn't worked out yet how or when they were going to announce it.

Trey felt a little sorrow about that. His hope of working with Jennifer and Blake up in Spearfish Lake had seemed like a long shot, at best. He'd always been pretty sure that the job offer would have to include Myleigh -- but, without having said a word about it to Myleigh, it seemed pretty clear that they'd have to stay around Marienthal. He was already working on his MBA, and would be for another year and a half, but there ought to be something an MBA could do in Kansas City. Still, it wouldn't have the excitement of Spearfish Lake, the friends -- and, realistically, it wouldn't help Myleigh's performing career, either. Given the course of the last day and change, Trey was more certain than ever that Myleigh would want to stay in touch with teaching English literature somehow.

Trey was chatting earnestly with Wendy -- who was always fun to talk to -- when Myleigh came up to him. "Would you accompany me over to the speaker's stand?" she asked. "I believe the college president has some words to say."

There was a low podium at the end of the small room, and Trey followed Myleigh over to it. She introduced him to the college president, Dr. Brockway. He was wearing slacks and a sweater, and even as he shook his hand Trey was impressed -- he judged college presidents by comparing them to Dr. Hamilton, who was always pretty stuck up. This man seemed warm and casual, by comparison. "Pleased to meet you," he said. They talked for just long enough to exchange pleasantries, and then Dr. Brockway stepped up onto the podium, and went to the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, faculty, students and friends of Weatherford College," he began. "We're here tonight to greet a distinguished visitor to our campus . . ." He went on for a couple minutes, delivering a few warm words of praise for Myleigh, the fact that she was Doctor of literature in addition to being a master harpist. It was the usual gentle praise that he had heard in many introductions before. "With that being the case," he concluded, "I give you Dr. Myleigh Harris."

In her evening gown, Myleigh stepped up to the microphone. "Thank you Dr. Brockway, for having me here tonight," she said. Myleigh said a few words about how she'd been to the campus in the past, what an honor it was to be there, and Trey still was only half listening, again. It was more or less the usual stuff that he'd heard her give before. This differed a little, in that she introduced a few people, Jennifer and Blake, Randy and Nicole, Lex and Shovelhead, and Wendy, of course.

"However," she concluded. "In view of the fact that we have many personal friends here tonight, I hope that Dr. Brockway will allow me a moment to make a personal announcement." She paused for a moment and smiled; Trey could tell what was coming. "Last night," she continued. "Mr. Trey Hartwell gave me the distinct honor and privilege to request my hand in marriage. I, of course, accepted." She motioned for Trey to join her, and, feeling very embarrassed, he joined her on the podium, where they exchanged a brief kiss, as the room erupted in cheers.

* * *

It turned out to be a big crowd for a college show, not the biggest they'd had, but not far from it, and it was one of the more enthusiastic ones. Trey was just a bit giddy from all the congratulations he'd had in the last few minutes of the reception, and he was glad to get away with Myleigh to get started on the show. It was one of the better shows, too; the crowd was up as soon as they got into the auditorium. As the show started, Trey glanced out to see that most of the Spearfish Lake contingent was seated right in the front row, along with Dr. Brockway, his wife, and several of the other people who Myleigh had been talking to early on. Wendy was seated right down front, in her wheelchair; he was sure she was going to enjoy this show.

It was a good one. Myleigh used the normal playlist, not with the special excursion that had gone on the night before, with one exception: after the intermission, when the time came for Dawnwalker, she told the crowd. "Since I've been doing these shows, I've done one particular song that is very special to me. Although I was part of the original recording of this song, I've always felt somewhat uncomfortable performing it since I did not do the vocals on the original. My poor talents as a singer do not measure up to the marvelous skills of the woman who sang it then. Since that remarkable woman is with us tonight, it would do me great honor if Jenny Easton Walworth would join me in this most special tune."

Though it should have come as no surprise to her, Jennifer appeared a little embarrassed to join Myleigh on stage. Surprised, himself, Trey came rushing out with the spare microphone cable he always kept set up for emergencies and handed it to Jennifer. "Myleigh, I'm going to get you for this," Jennifer grinned. "I've said for years that you're a better singer than I am, so why don't we do it as a duet, just so these people can make up their own minds?"

Mouse trapped back, Myleigh just grinned and started the intro. Trey had to fiddle with the levels a little in the early part of the plaintive song, but once things were balanced, he just stood back and watched and listened. Jennifer was a good and powerful singer, of that there could be no doubt, but as the two sang together, he could see that Myleigh had a quality of her own, different than Jennifer's but no less powerful. Before the song ended, he realized that if anyone asked him which he thought was better, he'd have to take the fifth.

As had become standard, she wrapped the show up with Tangerine Boogie, but when she walked off the stage to the cheers, she whispered, "Let's plan two encores."

"Fine by me," he said as she turned and headed back out on the stage to more roaring cheers. The first encore was a novelty song she hadn't done since the first show, Empty Cat Blues, a rollicking, laughter-filled song about a cat begging for dinner, and that left the crowd laughing. Then for the second encore, she did American Pie, of course, which had the audience singing along on the chorus. There was no reason for anyone to go home in a bad mood after that ending triple whammy.

The crowds hanging around the lobby while the CD sales went on were large, and Trey was in a hustle; he was relieved to see Blake and Randy next to him, helping him with the sales, relieved that Blake had brought in four big boxes of CDs earlier. Myleigh was busy indeed signing autographs, and Jennifer was busy, too.

Finally, things began to wind down. Blake looked a little disheveled, which was surprising. "Trey, do you know how long it's been since I've pitched CDs after a show?" he grinned. "Not that it's not fun, but I am out of practice."

"Does you some good, being down in the trenches," Trey grinned.

"Are you kids coming up to Spearfish Lake tonight?" Blake asked.

"I guess," he said. "It wouldn't do to come this far without saying hi," he said. "We're going to have to hit the road early if we want to make it back to KC and get any sleep."

"Well, good," he said. "Jennifer has something to talk to you about, and I do, too."

"Anything earth shattering?" Trey asked.

"Not really," Blake said. "But you and Myleigh should both hear what Jennifer has to say. As far as that goes, that's probably the case on the other thing, but that involves what we talked about on our sea kayak trip around the lake last summer."

"We'll make the time," Trey promised, realizing that Blake was talking about the job doing sound with them, up in Spearfish Lake. That still seemed pretty far from a possibility, unless maybe Myleigh might want to give up teaching . . . and there was that futile thought, again. Kans-ass City. Damn.

A few minutes later, Trey was counting and facing bills along with Randy and Blake, when Myleigh came over. "Trey, could you join us for a moment, please?" she said. "I need your input on something."

"Sure," he said, leaving the pile of money and following her over to a corner of the room. He'd seen that she'd been talking with Dr. Stein, Dr. Brockway, and those other people he had seen her talking with earlier. After he joined them, Dr. Brockway began, "Mr. Hartwell, I think I'd better bring you up to speed on what we've been talking about. One of the frustrations that I've had at this campus is the inability to bring our literature department up to the quality that I think it should be. As you are no doubt aware, sometimes it's difficult to find funding for liberal arts programs, but we have recently been offered an endowment that would considerably build up the department. We have been discussing the possibility of offering Dr. Harris a position in that department starting next fall, with an extra section in the music department. Would you have any objections?"

"Trey, I do desire your opinion," Myleigh said. "I realize it will affect your plans for your graduate work."

"Do you have an MBA program here?" Trey asked, getting the drift. In fact, a number of things came crystal clear all at once.

"Yes, and no," Dr. Brockway said. "We do not have one of our own, but we host an extension program from Athens University. It's really intended for people who are working on the degree part-time, so it has a lot of evening and weekend classes. I'm sure there would be no problem in your being admitted."

"Then, I have no objections," Trey said. "In fact, my policy is this: what Dr. Harris wants is fine with me."

"That being the case," Myleigh said to Dr. Brockway, "I shall tentatively accept your offer, subject to working out the details, of course."

"That would be wonderful, Dr. Harris," Dr. Brockway said. "Perhaps we could get together Monday morning."

"I'm afraid we're due back in Kansas City," Myleigh said. "But Trey, didn't you say that the Cougar was running rough, and you were concerned about making it back without seeing a mechanic?"

"Yeah, probably would be a good idea," Trey smiled. "I don't think there'll be a chance to see one until Monday, though."

* * *

It still took another hour to get out of Weatherford, and on the road to Spearfish Lake. It was late now, but they didn't have that far to go. Trey was driving; it was a familiar road. Myleigh lay up next to him as best as she could in the bucket seats. She was out of the evening gown now, back to travel clothes. It had already been worked out that they would stay with Randy and Nicole again, so it was just a case of getting there.

But Trey was not exactly a happy camper. The deal was too easy, too pat. Something more had obviously gone on that hadn't met his eye, and it bothered him.

Myleigh picked up on his uneasiness. "Trey," she said. "It's a wonderful opportunity. Of course, there will be a certain danse macabre to go through to iron out the details, but that is to be expected, and should go easily Monday. This will allow us the best of both worlds, for me, music, and literature."

"I know," he said. "It's just a little too good. Myleigh, don't you realize that the whole thing is a setup? I didn't get a chance to ask about the source or size of the endowment, but six will get you two that it wouldn't put tires on Bubba Winslow's Chevy for a month. Besides, Blake sort of hinted to me tonight that he had a job lined up for me. I guess I never told you about that, but we talked about it last summer. He's talking sound engineer, plus doing stage and road management and other stuff. It hadn't been worked out when we left, and I figured it would never come off, since we'd be down in KC."

"Of course it's a setup," she snorted. "Trey, at one time I would have been extremely distressed had someone done that to me. I am aware you did not tell me about Blake's offer last summer, but he did. He related to me that it was your opinion that I'd not be willing to move back up here without a job teaching literature at some college, at least part time. I told him I agreed with your opinion, and asked if he might not attempt to find a possible opening. I said no more than that, and as it proved, I needed to say no more. I was not expecting it quite this soon, or in this dramatic a fashion, but I am not surprised."

"It surprised the hell out of me," Trey said. "I don't know that I'm not a little irritated."

"Please, Trey. Do not be annoyed. If you want an example of irritated, think how I feel to be in an English literature department at Marienthal that is starving for funds, while as you say, tires for Bubba Winslow's Chevy for a month would make a world of difference. In fact, it was but a small step from there."

"How do you mean?" he said, realizing his fiancée had been a little more involved in what had happened than he thought.

"You will remember, of course, that Jennifer announced last summer that she's pulling support from Bubba Winslow at the end of the year. It is quite a large amount of money, but since she feels no more need to assuage the old-line country fans, it was money that was largely being wasted for the purpose she intended. However, her tax status did not change. She still has to find some place to make those donations, or give it to the IRS instead. It was not difficult to convince her to put a portion of that money toward supporting the liberal arts, which, of course, includes music. As I said, I said no more. Jennifer and Blake are quite intelligent, so I expected that they could put two and two together and make five, or six, or seven out of it."

"So you're saying that you set them up?"

"No, not really. I merely pointed out some opportunities. Trey, perhaps you are not aware of how much education depends on fundraising. Even as a student it is important. You have never had to worry about it, since your fundraising involves the GI Bill. I guarantee you that most students have considerably more difficulties. I certainly did. I don't know where this will come out, but by making that one suggestion, I may have done more for the study of English literature than I could have done in a lifetime in a classroom. Or, I may have been able to help out many poor but brilliant students, such as I was, to help them reach their dreams. That in the process a few changes have been made that are advantageous to us is relatively immaterial. Everyone involved will receive fair value."

"All right, Myleigh," he said. "You've convinced me. I guess there's not that much wrong with pulling the occasional string. I've pulled one or two in my life, but never one as big or neat as that."

"I think so as well. More so, I feel I did it with honor, and my hero, I know that is important to you."

"Now that I think about it, yeah, I guess you did," he said. "That changes things. We're still in KC till spring, right?"

"Yes, till the term ends. I suspect that we will want to set up housekeeping in Spearfish Lake shortly afterwards." She sighed. "I must admit, it does feel a little strange to contemplate living there with the man I love, after I spent so much effort in avoiding that very fate. That it is with a different man than the one I expected makes it all the sweeter and stranger."

"Tell me," he said. "Did you set me up for my proposal last night, too?"

"No, my love. That happened on its own. I merely expected it to come in December, rather than last night; but except for a period yesterday morning, I had little doubt that it would come sooner or later." Her voice changed, became a little sharper, as she continued, "Although had you delayed too long after that, I might have been forced to take the initiative."

It turned out that they needed the extra day in Spearfish Lake, just to start making preparations for the spring. As expected, Jennifer and Blake did have an offer for Trey to work for them, running their new studio, and doing other things -- among which was a tentative contract to have him do some field recording for someone they knew at bluegrass festivals down south. It sounded interesting, and he accepted the offer eagerly.

With that settled, they decided to work on other arrangements. Trey briefly considered looking for a place down by Blair to equalize the driving somewhat, but Myleigh soon convinced him that it would be best to be in Spearfish Lake. In the long run, the amount of driving involved would be about the same, or less, though more of it would fall on her.

Trey also thought about putting off looking for a house until spring, but Randy shot them down on that as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "No, this is the best time of year," he said. "Prices go down in the fall and up in the spring. Buy during the next two months, and you're at the bottom of the market." Randy knew Binky, a woman in the real estate business who lived across Hannegan's Cove, and in a few minutes, the tiny, middle-aged Vietnamese woman was sitting at Randy's kitchen table. That was fast work for a Sunday afternoon, but Randy assured Trey and Myleigh that she was the best in the business.

It turned out that there was a house available right on Hannegan's Cove, not far up the street, that was available at a very good price. There was a story with it -- the woman who owned it had been an absolute pain in the neck for her high-school daughter, who quietly vowed to go to college as far away from Spearfish Lake as she could get. That proved to be the University of Alaska, Fairbanks. Her mother wasn't willing to let her get away that easily so she moved up there, bought a house, and prepared to continue to harass her daughter -- who quickly transferred to the University of Miami, telling her mother that if she followed her she'd transfer again. Now, the mother was stuck with two houses and wanted neither. "The only problem," Binky told her, "Is that considering the owner, I'd recommend an exorcism, just to be on the safe side."

"Be real safe," Randy snorted. "I know a Wiccan priestess, and Debbie Elkstalker down at the Record-Herald is a tribal shaman. I don't know if either one of them do exorcisms, but cover all the bases you can."

"I'm still a college student," Trey said. "I won't have a job until next spring. I don't know how I can make house payments till then, and we won't be living here till spring."

"You're a vet, right?" the Binky said. "Finance it VA. It'll take that long to get the paperwork done, you get a break on the interest, and you don't have to put anything down."

It sounded like a plan. Randy promised to have one of his construction superintendents who knew houses go through the place and come up with a list of items that needed work. "Off season work, I can cut you a deal," he said. "Most of it will get deducted from the sale cost, anyway."

It was a no-brainer. Now, on this December day, moving-in day was still five months off, but he and Myleigh would be in Kansas City most of that time. Some of it would be spent on the road, doing shows, and there was a vacation at a resort in Mexico, too. But, there were a few other things to do first.

Planning the wedding had been a no-brainer, too. There could be no thought of a wedding in Franklin, of course, and they had few friends in Kansas City, and hardly more in Indiana. Since most of their friends were in Spearfish Lake, it was an easy choice, although Trey's parents had to make a long drive. The only downside to that, besides the distance, was that Carolyn invited herself along, but Trey had been told that she'd been ordered by both her father and her mother to keep her lips zipped. And, Robbie and Shirley flew in; Trey picked them up in Camden the day before, so he finally got a chance for a little time with his brother.

Given the group, the exact location of the wedding was a no-brainer, as well. It was really rather informal, although Trey did wear a suit and tie. Myleigh didn't do anything special for a wedding dress; one of the white evening gowns she used in her shows seemed like it would do the job. Trey stood in front of the Italianate marble fireplace, in which a cheery fire was crackling, and watched her come into the room. She walked up beside him, standing in front of the mayor of the town, who would perform the ceremony. Not far away, Blue Beauty stood on a stand, firelight glistening off of her high polish.

Myleigh had never looked prettier, he thought. He looked at her, seeing her warm, gentle smile. Across the room, a tall thirty-something woman with long blonde hair, and her big, handsome husband picked up guitars, and began to sing, "He is now to be among you, at the calling of your hearts . . ." The thought warmed him, but then he turned his attention to the woman who, in a few minutes, would become his wife. She still awed him; she always would. She was talented, intense, quirky . . . and wonderful.

A year ago, he'd wondered if any man could be man enough for her. There was still some question in his mind if he was up to it, but she thought he was. That was all he needed.

* * *

Several hours later, Trey sat wearing a robe on the edge of the bed in a motel room far to the south, waiting for Myleigh. Soon, she appeared, wearing something that was so gossamer as to conceal nothing, and he liked what he saw. She walked over to him, and, to his surprise, got down on her knees in front of him. She took his hands in hers, and said, with a huge grin, "You will remember, some months ago, that you told me that it was inappropriate for me to want to take you to bed out of gratitude. Now, I have a question to place before you."

"Yes?" he smiled, wondering what was coming.

"Do you consider sheer wanton lust and boundless love an adequate reason, Mr. Hartwell?"

He smiled at her, enjoying her grin. "It's the best reason of all, Dr. Hartwell."

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