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For the first time, Elizabeth looked bemused, and he saw that beneath the carefully coiffed auburn hair, she was blushing. I thought you said ' you mentioned your sister-in-law earlier in the evening ' I just assumed ' He laughed as she stammered over the explanation, and he shook his head, his blue eyes alive in the light of the candles.

I'm afraid not. I was referring to my brother's widow.

Was he killed in the war?

Yes, he was.

I'm very sorry.

He nodded and coffee was served, as the ladies withdrew, at the instigation of Priscilla Barclay. She thanked her daughter quietly as they left the room.

Thank you, Elizabeth. We would have been in a terrible spot without you.

She smiled easily at her mother, and for an instant, put an arm around the older woman's shoulders. Priscilla Barclay was still pretty, although she was over sixty. I had fun. I like Spencer Hill. A lot more in fact, now that he just told me he's not married.

Elizabeth! Her mother pretended to be shocked, but in fact she wasn't, and Elizabeth knew it. He's much too old for you. He must be almost thirty.

That's just right, and it might be fun to see him in New York. He's going to work for Anderson, Vincent, and Sawbrook. Her mother nodded, and moved away to chat with the other ladies, and a little while later, the gentlemen joined them. The party broke up shortly after that, and Spencer thanked the Barclays for inviting him, and made a point of saying good night to their daughter.

Good luck at school.

Thank you. Her eyes were warm, and for the first time he decided that he really liked her. She was nicer than Robert's wife, and actually, considerably smarter. Good luck with the new job. You'll do famously, I'm sure.

I'll try to remind myself of that in a month or two, when I'm pining for the easy life at Stanford. Maybe we'll meet in New York sometime. She smiled up at him encouragingly, as her mother approached them and thanked him for coming.

You'll have to check on Elizabeth for us, when she's in New York.

He smiled, thinking it unlikely that they would meet, but he was always polite. He thought college freshmen were a little young for him ' and then, of course, there was Crystal' .

Let me know if you come to town.

I'll do that. She smiled warmly at him, and looked younger again, and a moment later, he left them. He went back to the Fairmont, thinking of her, and her steady flow of interesting conversation. Maybe she was right, he told himself. Maybe she should go to law school. She would be wasted as someone's wife, playing bridge, and gossiping with other women. But it wasn't Elizabeth he dreamed of that night, when he finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning ' it was the girl with the platinum blond hair and eyes the color of a summer sky ' the girl who had sung as though her heart would break ' in his dream, she sat on the swing, watching him, and he could never quite ireach her. He slept fitfully that night, and for only a few hours. At daybreak he was up, watching the sun rise slowly over the bay, and a hundred miles away, Crystal walked through the fields in bare feet, thinking of him as she wandered toward the river, singing softly.

Spencer did errands that next day, tying up loose ends, and dropping in on a few friends, to say good-bye and wish them well. And suddenly, he was desperately sorry to leave them. He regretted his decision to go back to New York, and promised himself he'd come back one day. It was a melancholy day for him, and he went to bed early that night, and took the plane to New York the next morning. It was Crystal's sixteenth birthday.

His parents were waiting for him, and he felt foolish being greeted as the conquering hero. Even Barbara, Robert's widow, was there, and her two daughters. They had a late supper at his parents' house, and Barbara had to leave to take the girls home before they fell asleep at the table.

Well, Son? his father said expectantly after the others had gone home, and his mother had retired to their bedroom. How does it feel to be back home again? He was anxious to hear an encouraging answer. Spencer had been gone for too long, six years, between the war and his two years at Stanford, and he was relieved to have him back in New York where he belonged. It was time for Spencer to settle down and become someone, just as Robert would have done, had he lived.

I'm not sure how I feel yet. Spencer was honest with him. It looks the same, more or less, as the last time I was home. New York hasn't changed. He didn't add what he was really thinking ' but I have '

I hope you'll be happy here. But William Hill didn't really doubt it.

I'm sure I will, Father, thank you. But he was less sure than he had ever been. A part of him longed to go back to California. I saw Judge Barclay before I left, by the way. He sent you his regards.

William Hill nodded, pleased. He'll be on the Supreme Court one day, mark my words. It wouldn't surprise me. His sons are good men too. His oldest boy was in my courtroom the other day. He's a very fine lawyer.

I hope someone says that about me one day. Spencer sat down on the couch in his father's study, and ran a hand through his hair with a tired sigh. It had been a long day, a long week ' a long war ' and suddenly the thought of what he was facing depressed him.

You've done the right thing, Spencer. Never doubt it.

How can you be so sure? I'm not Robert, Dad ' I'm me ' but Spencer knew he couldn't say that. What if I hate Anderson, Vincent, and Sawbrook?

Then you'll go to work in the legal department of a corporation. With a law degree, you can do almost anything you want. Private practice, business, law ' politics ' He said the word hopefully, that was where his real hopes were, and Spencer would be perfect for it one day. Just as his brother had been before him. Robert, their shining hope so quickly extinguished. Barbara's looking well, isn't she?

Yes. Spencer nodded quietly, wondering if his father knew him at all. How's she doing?

It's been hard for her. But she's recovering, I think, he said, and turned away for a moment so Spencer wouldn't see the tears in his eyes, I suppose we all are. And then he turned and smiled at Spencer. We've rented a house on Long Island. Your mother and I thought you might like the diversion. And Barbara and the children will be there for the rest of the month of August. It was strange coming back to the bosom of his family, he was no longer sure he belonged there. He had been twenty-two when he went to war, and so much had changed since then. So much had happened to change him. And now, with Robert gone, he felt as though he had returned to lead not his own life, but Robert's.

That was nice of you, Dad. I'm not sure how much free time I'll have once I start work.

You'll have weekends.

Spencer nodded. They were expecting him to be a boy again, their youngest son. He felt as though he had lost his own life somewhere on the way home from California.

We'll see. I have to find an apartment this week.

You can stay here, until you find your feet again.

Thank you, Dad. He looked up, and for the first time his father seemed old to him, old and cherishing hopes that had died with Spencer's brother. I appreciate it. And then, out of curiosity, Is Barbara seeing anyone? It had been three years after all, and she was a pretty girl. She had been perfectly suited to Robert. Ambitious, cool, intelligent, beautifully brought up, the perfect wife for a would-be politician.

I don't know, his father answered honestly. We don't discuss it. You ought to take her out to dinner sometime. She's probably still pretty lonely.

Spencer nodded. He wanted to see his nieces, too, but he had too much else to think about right now. And he felt drained by the expectations suddenly being put on him.

He felt exhausted as he fell into bed that night. The impact of what had been waiting for him seemed to have fallen on him with a crushing weight, and he wanted to cry as he went to sleep. He felt like a child who had gotten lost on the way home. The one thing he knew was that he had to find his own apartment, his own life, and quickly.

The remainder of the summer seemed to drift by, as Crystal helped on the ranch, and stopped by from time to time to play with Becky's baby. Tom was always off somewhere, checking over the vineyards with Tad or in town with his friends. And Jared spent every spare moment with his girlfriend in Calistoga. It was as though suddenly she was alone, with no one to be with, and no one to talk to. And she began riding over to visit Hiroko more and more often. Crystal would find her reading quietly, or sewing, or sketching with pen and ink, and she even taught Crystal how to write haiku. She was a gentle woman with a warm heart and the skills of a culture that fascinated Crystal. She taught her how to make little origami birds, and showed her how her own mother had taught her to arrange flowers. There was none of the obvious showiness of what she knew that went with Western ways, everything about her was quiet and discreet and very subtle. And, like Crystal, she was solitary and very lonely. She still had no friends among Boyd's relatives, she understood fully now how deeply they resented her, and she suspected that it would never be any different. She was all the more grateful for Crystal's companionship, and the two women became fast friends, as Hiroko waited for her baby.

And when school began, Crystal often went to visit her, sitting for long hours by the fire, doing her homework. She hated to go home anymore. Her mother was always with Becky anyway, and her grandmother was always scolding her. The only one who ever had a kind word for her was her father, and he had been ill again. Crystal confessed to Hiroko after Thanksgiving how worried she was about him. He looked tired and pale and he coughed all the time. It terrified her. The man who had seemed invincible to her all her life was suddenly failing. He had had pneumonia again, and he hadn't ridden out in weeks. It made Crystal want to cling to him. She knew that if she ever lost him, her life would be over. He was her cohort, her ally, her staunch defender, the others were all too quick to turn on her, to blame her for petty things, and to berate her for everything she wasn't. She didn't want to do the things Becky did. She didn't want to sit in her kitchen all day, drinking coffee and making cookies, she didn't want to gossip with the other women, or marry a man like Tom and have his babies. Tom Parker had grown fat in less than two years, and he always reeked of beer, except on the weekends, when he stank of whiskey.

Crystal knew she wasn't like the rest of them. Instinctively, she had always sensed that she was different, and she knew that her father knew it too. And Hiroko. She had long since confessed to the gentle Japanese girl that she sometimes dreamed about being in the movies. But there was no way she could leave her father now. She wouldn't have left him for anything. But one day ' maybe one day ' the dream of Hollywood never died in her ' nor did her dreams of Spencer. But she never confessed her feelings about him to Hiroko and Boyd, although she told them everything else. They were her only friends, and she rode over to see them often. Hiroko was the only woman friend she'd ever had, and Crystal had long since come to love her. Hiroko offered her the encouragement and warmth she found nowhere else, except with her father.

She confessed her fears to her that she'd never escape the valley, that none of her dreams would come true. But she loved the valley too. Her feelings for it were intricately woven in with her love for her father. She loved the land, and the trees, the roll of the hills, and the mountains beyond them. She even loved the smell of it, especially in spring when everything was fresh and new, and the rains had turned everything bright emerald. Living there forever wouldn't be the worst fate imaginable, even if it meant giving up her dreams of being in the movies. She just didn't want to marry a man like Tom Parker. The mere thought of it made her shudder.

Is he unkind to your sister? Hiroko was curious about the others sometimes. To Hiroko, they were all strangers, even her husband's sister, who had gotten married, finally, just in time to have her baby.

I think he's mean to her when he drinks. Not that she'd tell me. A few weeks ago, she had a black eye. She said she fell over the high chair. I think she told Mama the truth though. The two women still shut Crystal out. Everyone did. She was dangerously beautiful and it threatened all the women who knew her, except this one, who looked so different. They were an odd pair, the one tall and thin, the other tiny, the one with shining black hair, the other with her long mane like a palomino's. The one culture so free and so bountiful in words and gestures, the other so spare and so restrained. They had come from different worlds, to a single place, where they had become sisters.

Perhaps you go to Hollywood one day, and Boyd and I will come to see you. They both laughed as they walked down the road from the Websters' place, talking of their dreams. Hiroko wanted a pretty house one day, and lots of children. Crystal wanted to sing, and wanted to go to a place where people didn't resent her. It was a common bond between Hiroko and Crystal. For different reasons, they were both outcasts.

Hiroko liked to get exercise and she didn't like to go out alone, and Crystal always enjoyed walking with her. They would talk for hours sometimes, as Hiroko noticed the tiniest things as they walked along, the smallest flowers, the least plant, the most delicate butterfly, and then later she would sketch them. They shared a common passion for nature. But Crystal was also comfortable enough with her now to tease her.

You just see all that stuff because you're lower to the ground than I am, Hiroko. Hiroko would giggle at her and they both wished they could go into town, but they knew they couldn't be seen anywhere together. It would have created a storm almost beyond bearing. Boyd invited her to go into San Francisco with them, but she was afraid to disappear for that long, her mother would surely notice it, and her father might need her.

By Christmas, he was too weak to get out of bed, and Crystal didn't visit the Websters for several weeks, and when she came in late January, her face told its own tale. Tad Wyatt was dying. She sat in Hiroko's kitchen and cried, with the older girl's arms around her shoulders. She felt as though her heart would break seeing him slip away day by day. Everyone at the ranch was crying all the time. Her grandmother, Olivia, Becky. And Jared was never there, he couldn't stand to wa'tch their father dying. Crystal would sit for long hours with him, encouraging him to eat, whispering softly as she put more blankets on him, and sometimes just sitting there as he slept, the tears rolling silently down her cheeks as she watched him. And it was Crystal he always wanted near him, Crystal he called for when he was delirious, Crystal he looked for when he opened his eyes again. Seldom his wife, and never Becky. They were foreign to him now, just as Crystal was to them. It was she who tended him lovingly, who even helped her mother bathe him. But the love she showed for him only made her mother resent her more. She thought the love they shared was unnatural, and if he hadn't been so sick, she would have said it. Instead she barely spoke to Crystal anymore, and Crystal didn't really care. All she cared about now was her father. Her passion for him even dimmed her memories of Spencer.