At nearly seventy, Matthew grew tired soon after he escorted Hester back to her father. Happy to sit down next to Caleb, he listened to the lively music, looked at the flow­ers and the pretty girls in their finest gowns, then grinned when Caleb handed him a glass of hard-to-find Madeira wine. "They are different faces my boy. I hardly remember any of these from the first ball at Mahala."

"Indeed they are."

"And Mahala has changed greatly as well. She has new roads, more corrals, more horses, many more ladies to tend and I daresay, taller trees."

Caleb agreed, "Many more ladies and much taller trees."

"And Maralee and Roselee are now sixteen, you say?"

"They are."

"Is that Seth who dances with your eldest?"

"Aye, it is Seth."

"Has the boy not danced with each two or three times already?"

Caleb nodded, "And more if they would let him. I admire his perseverance. He does not seem to mind their inattention so long as he can be in their presence, and he is not at all sure which he prefers."

"Perhaps he waits to see which will prefer him?"

Both men watched as John walked to the beautiful Hester Wade.

"Miss Wade, I would be honored if . . ."

"Excuse us, John," Adam interrupted, "I believe Miss Wade has promised the next two, or I daresay three, to me."