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"How do you know my name?" Shane suddenly blurted. "Why do you care about me now when earlier you were ready to shoot me?"
A great relief flooded Melanie, almost making her dizzy with happiness, for Shane had finally confessed to being Shane!
Could it truly be?
Shane. Shane Brennan! The little boy of four who had disappeared those twenty-five years ago now was face to face with her!
How wonderful the news would be for Jared Brennan. He was going to have his last wish in
lifeof seeing his son whom everyone else had sworn was dead.
"How do I know you?" Melanie said, looking adoringly up at him. "Oh, Shane, your father has kept you alive within not only his heart, but mine also. He has talked so much about you, I feel as though I have known you all my life. Somehow he knew that you would return to him." She grabbed his other hand and squeezed it affectionately. "And you have! He will be so happy, Shane. So happy!"
"My father," Shane said, absorbing the softness of Melanie's hands within the coarseness of his own, feeling the bond between himself and Melanie strengthening. It surely was destiny that they should meet this way. He could see so much in her eyes. He could hear so much in her voice. "My father is still alive?"
Melanie's smile faded.
Should she tell him?
No!
She thought it best not to disclose such a sad truth to Shane at the very moment he was finally opening up to her.
She forced another smile. "Yes, your father is alive," she said, nodding. "Also your brother, Josh."
Her gaze swept over him, then looked into his eyes again. "You look so much like your twin brother," she marveled. "There are some differences. But not so much in appearances. The difference I see is in your hearts."
Shane's gaze raked over her, familiarizing him-
self with her loveliness. Then his eyes locked with hers again, afraid of his feelings. "And what is my brother to you?" he asked, his voice drawn.
Melanie blinked her eyes nervously, not wanting to disclose to Shane just how much she despised his brother. "Josh and your father are my neighbors," she said quickly. "Our lands adjoin. Do you remember, when you looked down from this butte, all the cattle you saw? Half belong to my family and half belong to yours. The fence you saw divides the two pastures."
Shane's eyes wavered. When she referred to his father's land as also his, it was not a reality he could yet face. Was it real? Would his family truly want to share with him? Could he be a part of the family again? Did he even want to be?
Yes, he wanted to see his father and embrace him as sons embrace fathers, but to be a part of a life that he had never known was a disturbing idea to him. For many years he had known only one way of life.
Melanie saw Shane's uneasiness and hesitation. Afraid that she was not handling this delicate affair right, she turned and looked over her shoulder at the campfire, then back up at Shane. "Let's go and sit by the fire," she said, easing her hands from his. She hugged herself, the damp evening breeze penetrating her thin blouse, chilling her. "We can talk a while and then I must leave. If my brother retur
ns from town and finds me gone he will become alarmed."
"You live with your brother?" Shane asked, already relieved to have heard her refer to his family, especially his brother, as neighbors, nothing more.
Melanie's eyes lowered, her father's death not that long ago that mentioning it did not always cause her pain. "Yes, I live with my brother," she murmured. "Ever since my father's death it has been only my brother and myself."
Shane recognized the pain that speaking of her loss caused her. He could sympathize with that. He was still feeling the pain so recently caused by the old chief's parting. Something urged him to give her a soft comforting. He clasped his fingers gently to her shoulders.
"Death is but a change for the better. It is time borrowed until loved ones meet again," he said. "Do not be sad. You will be with your father again. And what of your mother?"
His hands and voice, his nearness, flooded Melanie with a strange sort of sweetness. She slowly lifted her eyes to him, then melted inside when she saw how warmly he was looking down at her.
"Your mother?" Shane repeated. "You have not spoken of your mother." He moved a hand to her cheek and stroked it with his thumb. "You have not even told me your name."
Unable to shake this rapture that was spinning around inside her, suddenly afraid of it, Melanie stepped back away from Shane. She flinched when she saw that her action caused a sudden hurt to trouble his handsome face. ''My mother has been dead ever since my birth," she said, her voice quavering. "My name? It's Melanie. Please call me Melanie."
"Melanie?" Shane said, as though testing its meaning on his lips as he spoke. He smiled down at Melanie and shook his head in approval. "Yes. I like that. Like you, it is a gentle name."
Shane saw Melanie visibly shiver. He looked at the fire, then back at her. Taking her by the elbow he walked her toward the fire. "It is sad that you, too, have lost a mother," he said gently.
