Heathe Conners, affectionately known to his immediate friends as Conan because of his tall thickly muscled body, was just rounding a turn on the stairs, wood piled high in his massive arms, his nose and cheeks flushed red from the cold outside, when he almost collided with Blythe but for Nate's quick intervention as he jerked his wife out of the way.

"Damn, I'm sorry," the huge man said breathlessly. Then glancing from one to the other a subtle change came over him. He hadn't expected Nate so early and was clearly taken aback to find Blythe with him, casually coming from the bedrooms as if she owned the place. But there was more than surprise in his expression. It resembled dislike, resentment.

"I can see you haven't talked to Ma yet," Nate said cheerfully. Heathe stood stone still except for the slight shake of his handsome golden head and the almost imperceptible tremor that ran along his jaw. "Heathe, you remember Blythe MacLarren?" Nate asked rhetorically and as his friend nodded he went on rapidly. "She's Blythe Stevens now. We were married in Houston a few days ago."

Distress flooded the cat-green eyes and Blythe's heart went out to him. She felt a need to erase the pain but wasn't sure how. Flashing a brilliant smile, dimples deepening effectively, her voice was sincere when she spoke. "It's good to see you again, Heathe. I'm terribly sorry you had to find out this way. It all happened so fast. Nate, more or less, swept me off my feet and we both agreed it was best not to tell anyone until we came home. I see now how foolish that was. You and Nate have been so close for so long. We should have let you know. I am truly sorry. Really! I guess neither one of us was thinking any too clearly at the time."

He returned a sheepish smile but the eyes remained cautious. "Congratulations," he offered glancing at his friend.

"Come on, Conan, you can't stay perched here on the stairs all night with wood in your arms. Where were you headed...the master bedroom or workroom?" Nate asked gaily, as if subtly enjoying the discomfiture of the other man.

"Actually, I was on my way to one of the guest rooms. I'd thought since it was your first night back, I'd stick around to catch you up on some things...but I'll go on back to—"

"No!" Blythe blurted in sharply and both men turned startled heads in her direction. "Please, don't leave on my account. I'd like you to stay. It would give us a chance to get better acquainted." She grinned rebelliously at her husband. "Besides, I wouldn't be honest if I didn't say I'd enjoy the company. Weeks alone with this creature, no matter how charismatic, can leave one craving some real companionship and conversation."

"Sweet, isn't she? But you'll get used to her. I did. Kinda grew on me like...well, anyway I can guarantee that you might as well agree to stay, cuz she'll keep after you till she's contrived to get her way," Nate quipped taking some logs from the heavy stack. Turning, he started back up the stairs with Heathe trudging solemnly behind. As an afterthought, he called down to his wife who waited dutifully on the step where she'd been left, "Stay there. We'll be down directly."

Blythe had no intention of going anywhere without Nate and was wondering if they might steal a few moments to discuss her in private. But barely had the thought crossed her mind when they returned, Nate's arm draped about his friends broad expanse of shoulder in a gesture of brotherhood. The two were grinning like boys who had just committed some dastardly deed and gotten away with it. As they reached her, Nate's hand left the shoulder to roughly rub the top of his friend's short blond hair as he'd done since they were kids.

Night and day these two, Blythe reflected as others had before her and she hoped she would be able to win a place in their world and not always be on the outside looking in as she was now. The awareness went through her like a gunshot, no longer an uneasiness, a wary feeling she couldn't put her finger on, but the smarting surety of her situation. The game would be different from now on. Now, they were playing in his court and she was no longer reigning queen of a neutral territory. For the first time, she would be fighting for approval and a position in her husband's life.

#

"Well, it's about time you two came back down! The ol' lady's called here, twice now, wanting to know when her precious son's gonna get home. Told her damned if I knew. Wasn't about to let the cat outa the bag and ruin the fun. 'Sides, I think that witch is with her. Thought you should be forewarned. If you ask me, it's not fair that the poor child has to face them two all at once. It's hard enough coming to a new place, trying to make it a home an' all, without havin' to deal with the likes of them.  Come on in here and sit down," Ma Manford directed, wagging a tray copiously laden with hors d'oeuvres into the clubroom.

Placing it on a coffee table, she made herself comfortable on a sofa and patted the cushion next to her. "Sit her by me, dear. Mr. Nate, get us a drink. Now, my advice to you young people is not to go traipsin' over there. Let the old buzzard come here...alone. Tell her you need to talk to her in private. That Rene creature's got no business mixed up in family affairs. Heathe, you could go over there and keep her busy."

Plopping down in an oversized chair next to the vivacious older woman, Heathe gave her a disarming grin. "I'm as happy as you ta finally see Nate out of Rene's clutches. But she's gonna have to find out sometime and there's no way around Blythe havin' to run into her eventually. Maybe it's better ta get it over and done with all at once. The anticipation's probably gonna be worse than any of the rest of it."

He turned his handsome head to Blythe. His smile was serene but  leeriness still lingered in his eyes and she couldn't be certain if it was concern for her or about her. Again, she felt like an intruder, like she shouldn't be there at all. "Maybe it's best if Nate tells them alone," Blythe said. "It's not my place to—"

"Your place is with me!" Nate interjected sternly as he handed her a drink, leaving no doubt as to the possessiveness he felt towards this woman who consumed his very being. "You're right, Ma. I don't want Rene here to influence Mother. Heathe, would you take one of the cars and bring her here? And, please, make sure Rene understands this is private but don't let on why."

"Gladly, boss, as long as I don't have to stay with that bi...I mean Rene," he said retrieving his beer from the table and downing it in one large gulp. Popping a couple of cheese and sausage topped crackers into his mouth, he rose and gave his longtime friend a slap on the back. "Be back shortly," Heathe finished and left.

Mrs. Manford made a motion to get up. "Guess I oughta make myself scarce, too."

"You stay right where you are," Nathan ordered affectionately. "Blythe's gonna need all the support we can give her. I think it might help if you were here. You're as good as part of this family. Besides, I thought you wanted to see the fireworks."

"Ha! I was hopin' you'd say that," Ma snorted before turning to Blythe. "Now, dear, don't let yourself be bamboozled by Claire. She's likely to put on her frail how can you do this to a dyin' old woman act. But if the truth be known, she'll probably outlive us all. She's a strong one, a survivor, and she knows how to lay the guilt on thick as butter. Just mind that you're not taken in by it like your husband here."

She shrugged and shaking her pert head went on with a chortle, "Who knows? She might surprise us all and take it really well. But I doubt it! A tantrum's the most likely. Hell, I can't out guess her...never could. Just didn't put up with her bull and that's about all you can do."

Blythe looked at Nate, the quandary she felt evident in the furrows marring her usually smooth brow. "She can't really be that bad. You've talked about her so lovingly. You've been so protective of her all these years."

"And there's the problem, if you ask me. Been too good to her, he has. Let himself be manipulated. Even thought of marrying that Rene out of gratitude of all things! Don't look so shocked, young man. Heathe and me have our little secrets and discussions too for that matter. God knows, Nathan, you need some watchin' over as much as you take care of everyone else all the time. It's a blessin' you got a real friends like that boy and myself, if I do say so. If not, you'd be walked all over, what with everyone wantin' a piece of you like they do...and you givin' it to 'em."

"I must have been feeling extremely sorry for myself when I told Heathe I was considering marrying Rene. But one look at Blythe and I knew I could never go through with it," Nate defended himself, turning enamored eyes on his wife. "Mother can be manipulative. I know that. But she's had a hell of a life and I've just wanted to make things better for her. That's all."

"I understand, really. And I can handle the situation, however it turns out. I hope she'll realize how much I love you and will be able to care for me. I don't want to cause problems for any of us," Blythe responded sincerely.

"I know that. Be yourself. That's all I ask of—"

The creaking of the massive front door as it slowly opened stopped Nate from going on and the three sat quietly, listening to the sound of wheels squeaking and grating on the uneven stones of the entry hall.

Blythe unconsciously held her breath until the little woman next to her put a reassuring hand on her arm and whispered, "Remember, I'm here for ya. But I won't be sayin' much unless needed."

"Mother," Nate greeted pleasantly taking long strides across the room to meet her at the threshold.

Blythe stood out of respect for the woman who entered and halted only long enough by her son to grudgingly accept his hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Leave me be, Heathe. I can wheel myself now," she said, her voice showing her irritation as she rolled from the stone hallway onto the wooden floor of the clubroom. "Now, Son, what's all this nonsense about talking to me alone. Poor Rene's been at my place all afternoon keeping me company while we waited for you. She was thrilled when she heard you'd called. I simply can't imagine what—"

Seeing Ruby and the strange red-haired woman from the corner of her eye, Claire Stevens paused, whirling her chair around to face them. "But, Nathan, Heathe didn't mention guests. He said this was to be a private discussion."

"Mother, this is Blythe. She's not a guest here. This is her home. She's my wife."

Claire's face went white then scarlet with indignation, as the younger Mrs. Stevens approached and crouched down until they were eye to eye. "It's a pleasure, Mrs. Stevens. Nate's spoken so fondly of you. I've looked forward to our meeting."

Dismissing Blythe's outstretched hand Claire quickly averted her eyes and looked fretfully about the room. "Rene! I want Rene!" she whined.

"I'm here, Mother Stevens."

All heads swung to the doorway where the tall waspish woman stood, her eyes brimming with resentment.