Phil hated winter in the city. No matter how beautiful the snow was or how softly it blanketed the ground, eventually it metamorphosed into a slick, treacherous mass of ice. Then it would snow on top of the ice and the cycle would begin again. To add insult to injury, the cold wind blowing off Lake Michigan ate through layers of clothing and chilled a body to the bone. Even the advent of the Christmas season with its dashes of color, the tinkling of bells, and the gaiety of lights did little to mitigate the effects of the bad weather.

Friday morning dawned cold and blustery. Clouds covered the sky and snow fell in fitful spurts--as if some giant child was throwing poorly made snowballs at the city, ones that disintegrated before reaching their target. Phil stood at a window and watched the few cars and fewer people in the street below struggle to move. She watched a car spin out of control and begin a sideways slide across two lanes of traffic. Fortunately there were no other cars nearby and the car straightened before an accident occurred.

Phil slipped the heavy red cardigan over her shoulders and reached for her briefcase. Chance demanded and received a good-bye chin scratch then Phil locked the door of her apartment and headed for the stairs. Friday...if Ben really wanted to recapture what they had lost, he would come today. Darkness welled up in her soul at the prospect of what they would need to discuss should he come today.

'I wonder if he'll come? Probably not...as bad as the weather is...but he's used to this kind of weather. Did I make it plain enough that he was to come today? What if he doesn't? Maybe he'll come next Friday...'

She stopped and leaned against the wall of the stairwell trying to calm her racing heart. She was prepared to meet Ben today but the prospect of his nonappearance left her unsettled. What if he didn't want to have anything to do with her? What if he couldn't forgive her for not telling him about their daughter?

She resolutely shifted away from the wall. Her shoulders straightened and she mentally shook herself. It wasn't her fault that he had never known about Lindy. He was the one who had refused to open her letters and learn of their daughter. No...she couldn't let herself continue to think along those lines. She'd forgiven him, hadn't she? Could they put the past behind them and begin again? Would he come today?

Jeff looked up from the box of Christmas decorations that covered a large portion of his desk. Running an eye up and down Phil's slim figure, he grinned before speaking, "Phil, you certainly know how to stretch the meaning of the words 'casual dress'!"

"Hey now, Jeff," she countered as she glowered at him, "if I'm not mistaken, that's not exactly a suit you're wearing!" She suddenly lunged toward the desk and rescued a glass ball as it rolled precipitously near the edge.

Jeff accepted the proffered ornament, placing it back on the desk beside the large box. "Yes, but we have liberal dress policy here. Now, you, as president of this company, should set a better example for your employees." The look of utter innocence on his face barely concealed the mischief in his eyes.

"In order to do that I would need to get some new employees. I'm afraid I'm long past setting any kind of example for you or Mark!" Her gentle laugh rippled through the air thankful that Jeff had unknowingly helped lift the darkness that seemed bent on engulfing her. "Besides, I promised myself years ago that someday I would be able to work in comfortable clothing." Spoken softly, the quiet words carried to Jeff and he nodded in understanding.

"Care to give me a hand with this?" he asked motioning toward the small tree sitting forlornly on a table in the corner.

Phil brightened. Decorating the office and the small tree would definitely raise her spirits. Smiling widely, she nodded her head.

"I can't believe you let him rope you into doing that!" Mark Kehr exclaimed as he joined Phil and Jeff. He handed Phil a cup of coffee. "Heard you come in, Phil."

Accepting the coffee, Phil took a small sip. "Oh, I don't mind putting the decorations up. It's the taking down that I don't like! Why don't you take a break from your work and join us?"

Shaking his head, Mark threw his hands up in alarm. "Not on your life! When it comes to decorating I'm like...like that bull in the china shop. Things tend to break when I'm around." As if to accentuate Mark's statement, the wayward ornament again rolled to the edge of the desk. This time, Phil's dive to intercept it was futile. It fell striking the carpet with a soft tinkle.

Phil gingerly lifted the ornament, surprised that it wasn't broken. Holding it aloft, she grinned at Mark. "See! It didn't break!"

"Yeah, but the day is early!"

Chuckling softly, Phil acquiesced. "Okay, you're reprieved. You don't have to help us."

"Thanks, Phil, now I can get back to more important matters."

"Such as?"

"The Great Barrier Reef package."

"How's it coming along?" Phil asked as she lifted a string of lights out of the large box.

"I think we can have it finished by February. There are a couple of details that I'd like to run by you. If you don't mind?"

Phil tilted her head slightly. "When have I ever minded? I'd love to hear what you've got so far."

"Great! I'll touch bases with you,' he glanced at the box of decorations and the tree in the corner, "in say 2 hours?"

"It's a date," she agreed and watched as Mark headed back toward his office. Lifting her cup of coffee from where she'd placed it on the desk, she quickly downed the last of the brew. Turning back to Jeff, she said, "Let's do it!" In short order, the small tree was decorated and garlands of holly intertwined with twinkling lights were strewn across any surface large enough to support one. With a final flourish, Jeff placed a CD in a player and Christmas music softly filled the air.

"That's looks much better," Phil said as she stepped back to survey the work they had accomplished. With a start, she realized that she hadn't thought of Ben since her arrival at the office earlier. She helped Jeff put away the empty box then headed into her office. As she started to close the door, she paused. Taking a deep breath she turned back to the man at the desk.

"Jeff?"

"Yeah, Phil," Jeff answered as he glanced over his shoulder. He deftly rearranged an ornament on the tree.

Motioning for him to continue his adjustments to the tree, she bit her lower lip before speaking. "I'm expecting someone..." She paused again appalled by her scattered thoughts. Inhaling deeply, she began again, "If a Mountie drops by asking for me..."

"A Mountie?" Jeff asked as he turned to face her. "A Mountie as in 'In the little Crimson Manuel it's written plain and clear, That who would wear the scarlet coat shall say good-bye to fear'?"

"I didn't know you knew any Robert Service poetry?"

Jeff grinned smugly. "I really like the one about Sam McGee. 'There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold.' What kinda word is moil?"

Phil shrugged her shoulders. "Something a poet would use. Anyway, if a Mountie stops by asking for me...I doubt that he will...but, on the off chance that he does..." Phil stammered to a halt realizing that she was acting like she had something to hide.

"Can do, Phil." Jeff replied, his curiosity aroused. Who was this 'Mountie' anyway? He had not seen Phil this flustered in...well, in ages. Maybe she had finally met someone. Although she seemed to have taken the breakup with Dr. Stevenson rather well, Jeff felt sure that she couldn't have been unaffected by it. It would be great if she had found someone to help her get over that callous doctor. A Mountie? A memory popped into his mind of a Mountie signing up for the Grand Canyon excursion that Phil had taken over. Was that the Mountie she was expecting?

"Thanks, Jeff, I appreciate it," Phil smiled as she turned back to her office. She strolled over to the window behind her desk and stared out at the snow as it continued to fall. She momentarily wondered to where the pigeons had gone now that the weather had turned bad.

'Why in the world am I thinking about pigeons?' she asked herself sighing in relief when Mark stuck his head in the door.

The day progressed well and as noon approached, Phil pushed Ben's memories to the back of her mind. Whatever made her think that he would come by today? She had mailed the letters over two weeks ago. She knew he had gotten them. How could she forget her precipitous flight from Cat Madden's house only a week ago? Had it only been a week? It seemed like much longer. Would Ben come today? Maybe he needed more time before he felt ready to face her. She strolled to the window and watched the snow blanket the immobile cars below. Turning back to her work, she sighed then left her office to find Jeff and Mark. They were huddled over Jeff's computer screen.

"Jeff, Mark...why don't you two go on and go home before this storm gets any worse. If it continues through the weekend as predicted, don't plan on coming in on Monday. It's not as if we have anything that can't wait a couple of days."

"Are you leaving now, too?" Jeff asked.

"No...I'll hang around the rest of the day." She smiled. "I don't have as far to go as you do. Besides, Ben may stop by...he's used to this kind of weather."

Jeff exchanged a look with Mark. Mark nodded, "Then, we'll stick around until you close the office or your Mountie shows up."

Phil held her hands up in defeat. "Just remember this when you're stuck in whatever snow bank you find on you way home. I offered to let you go early." She smiled at her two employees, who just also happened to be her friends.

Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP, stood outside the old brownstone office building that was gaily draped in Christmas attire. In one of the windows he could see a large Christmas tree decorated in silver and blue. He had noticed it when he had first arrived, its evergreen beauty reminding him of northern woods. However, its presence had not been enough to entice him within the building. He had stood outside the building for over an hour. The cold wind that whipped down the street and discouraged pedestrians was noted and disregarded. The shivers that were now continuous were also noted and disregarded. The dull body ache--noted, disregarded. The occasional person forced to venture out into the cold and snow stared at the sentinel in front of the brownstone. Their speculative glances were also noted and disregarded. Now that he was here, he was fearful of taking those final steps. Indecision overrode his resolve. Why was he here?

*Whine* Dief stared woefully up at the Mountie. Alpha Male had acted strangely for more than a week. Now he stood in front of this building and stared at it. He recognized the building as being the den of the Lavender Woman. Was Alpha Male finally going to claim her as his own? He huffed slightly. It was about time, as far as the wolf was concerned. However, this standing out here in the cold and snow was wearing a little thin. Even if he was a wolf--used to the cold of an arctic winter--Dief knew that he preferred the warmth offered by the building. He had noted the tree as well as the packages placed beneath it. The possibility of a hidden treat was uppermost in his mind. Taking matters into his own hands (or paws as that may be), Dief gently took the sleeve of Ben's coat into his mouth and tugged on it until Ben followed him into the building.

Once moving, Ben entered the building pausing when he realized that Dief had deserted him. The wolf sniffed about the packages placed beneath the decorated tree. "I'm sorry, Dief, but I afraid that you will not find any snack food there. Those packages are strictly for decorative purposes." Diefenbaker huffed loudly. "Did you really think someone would place a donut or cupcake in a package and then leave it under that tree for you to find? I think not!" Ben exclaimed then turned toward the hallway that led to the elevators and the stairwell.

Jeff looked up to see who had entered the offices. The red of the RCMP dress tunic was easy to spot beneath the dark blue overcoat. 'This must be Phil's Mountie,' he thought. "Hello, can I be of some help to you?" He watched as the Mountie turned his Stetson around in his hand then cleared his throat.

"I'm...I'm looking for Dr. Philippe McKenzie. I understand she's here today." Ben's voice rose in a question.

Jeff nodded then glanced down at Diefenbaker as the wolf edged up to his desk and the half-eaten sandwich sitting unprotected on it. "What kind of dog is that?"

"Actually, he's more of a wolf. Diefenbaker, mind your manners!" Exasperation tinged Ben's voice. Dief ignored him and continued to stare at the sandwich that was little less than a nose length away. "Diefenbaker!" Ben spoke again but the wolf ignored him. "I'm sorry," Ben glanced quickly at the nameplate on the desk, "Mr. Bowers. But he simply will not listen to me when temptation stares him in the face."

"My sandwich? He wants my sandwich?"

"I'm afraid so and he won't let up until you either eat it or give it to him. Lord knows I've tried to explain the deleterious effects of processed food on a wolf's digestive system but he simply will not listen to me." Ben halted when he realized that he was almost babbling.

"Is it all right if I give it to him?"

Ben sighed deeply then nodded his head.

"Cool!" Jeff grinned then offered the half-eaten sandwich to the wolf. After the sandwich disappeared he straightened in his chair and reached for the phone. He looked expectantly at Ben. "If you'll give me your name, I'll see if Dr. McKenzie is available."

An uncomfortable look passed over Ben's features. "I'd rather you not tell Dr. McKenzie I'm here. It's a bit of a surprise. If you know what I mean?"

Jeff calmly looked Ben over from head to toe, then made a decision. Since Phil was already expecting the Mountie, it couldn't be much of a surprise. He pointed to a door. "Dr. McKenzie's in there. Just go on in."

"Thank you kindly." Ben approached the door, drew in a deep breath, and entered the office. He glanced around the room finally spotting Phil sitting on the floor in front of a wall covered with maps with her back to him.

"Mark, would you hand me that boat schedule on the desk, please?" She held out her hand. Ben retrieved the schedule and placed it in her extended hand. "Did you find the map you were looking for?"

"No, actually, I uh...I uh...just got here."

Phil looked around at the sound of Ben's voice. Her eyes widened in alarm. "Ben, I'm sorry. I thought you were Mark." She climbed to her feet. "How...why..." She shook her head to clear the shock of seeing him from her mind. "I didn't think you were coming."

"I had to, Phil. I couldn't leave things as they were between us. I know you understand what I mean."

Phil nodded and, sighing, she continued, "That was a long time ago, Ben. I've had plenty of time to...to..." She paused, then continued, "Anyway, I'm glad you came." She dusted off the seat of her jeans. "So, you got my packet of letters?"

Ben nodded and clenched his lips. The ragged wound caused by those letters still bled. He swallowed and blinked his eyes. He would not lose control.

Phil watched Ben struggle for control. She knew what he was going through. Stepping closer to him, she placed a hand on his arm. "I know what you've been through these past few days. Frankly, I was afraid that you might not want to see me."

"I almost didn't. But, there are things we have to discuss," he finally admitted.

Phil glanced downward spying the pair of lupine eyes that stared back at her from behind Ben's legs. Phil knelt on the floor and held out a hand. Dief slunk from behind Ben to come and sit in front of Phil. Smiling, she stretched forth her hand and gave him a good back-of-the-ear scratch. "Hello, Diefenbaker," she spoke to his face. "It's good to see you again." Dief submitted to the knowledgeable fingers working the base of his ears. He liked her. She knew how to scratch a wolf in the right places and it looked like she had forgiven him for the mess he had made in her den when he had last visited and questioned the cat.

Puzzled, Ben inquired, "See you again?"

Phil smiled up at him. "Dief has visited me before; and, before you ask, I'll gladly tell you the story some other time."

The door to the office opened and both Jeff and Mark entered. Mark brandished a roll of paper. "Here's the map, Phil."

Phil rose to her feet and took it from him. She could see the questions in their eyes. Not wanting to go into explanations at this point, she chose to ignore the looks. "Thanks, Mark. Why don't the two of you take off now? You should have left earlier like I told you to. You both have a good weekend and be careful driving home!"

"You be careful, too, Phil," Jeff spoke as Mark nodded in agreement.

Flashing them a smile of thanks, she replied, "I will. Now go!!"

Both men snapped to attention and saluted briskly. "Yes, sir!" they barked in unison before leaving the office.

Phil turned to Ben. She started to say something, but no words came out. She shook her head briefly then circled her desk and moved to the window. Crossing her arms, she stared out at the falling snow again wondering about the pigeons that normally inhabited the ledge outside her window.

Ben remained where he was, turning his hat round and round in his hands. "Phil, I'm sorry. I...I don't..."

Phil quickly came back to him and placed her fingers over his mouth. His warm breath tickled her fingers. "Don't Ben. There's been enough regrets and apologies and...I don't know..." she shrugged. Turning from him, she moved to her desk, and sat down. She rested her face in her hands. "I think, Ben, we both need to sit down and clear the air..."

"Clear the air?" Puzzlement echoed in his voice.

"Yeah, clear the air...you know, talk things over. We need to...before we can..."

"Start over?"

"Yeah, before we can start over, we need to talk about what happened. See if we can start over...if we want to start over." She stared at the man standing before her. "I don't know, Ben. I really don't know."

"I don't either, Phil. But I do agree with you, we need to talk to each other." He paused and then continued in a voice made tight with sorrow, "Why didn't you tell me about our daughter? Why did you wait so long?"

"Wait so long? Ben, I tried calling you. Who was it that didn't return my calls? I wrote you...I told you years ago. You were the one who returned my letters unopened." She nestled her face in her hands, then dropped them to the desktop. "Why didn't I tell you on the trip?"

Ben nodded.

"Look at you!" She shook her head. "I couldn't put you through this then. You needed...I needed...I wanted you to enjoy the trip. I knew if I told you...you would draw up into yourself and hide behind that Mountie facade that you're so good at. No one would've been able to tell but I would've know that you were dying inside. I know...I did." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I couldn't do that to you." She paused. "I almost didn't tell you now...but, you...you have the right to know."

"I wish I'd known sooner, Phil...known when it would have made a difference. I...I never got to know my daughter...hold her in my arms...I...I need to know more about her. I feel so...so..."

"...lost?"

Ben nodded in agreement.

"I know the feeling." A faraway look crept into her eyes as she stood, and came around the desk. "I can still feel the pain, the emptiness..." A lump in her throat made talking difficult. She briefly touched his arm.

Ben smiled down at her then tugged at the collar of his tunic. "Do you think we could go somewhere a little bit cooler. This office seems a bit warm. I guess standing outside in the cold has affected me."

Phil returned the smile then nodded her head before leading the way out of the offices. Locking the door, she headed for the elevator. Ben and Diefenbaker followed.

"Where's your coat?" Ben queried.

"Don't need it." Ben cocked his head and the question was plain in his eyes. Phil simply smiled at him and punched the up button. "I live on the top floor of this building, Ben."

Might as well get the question that had burned in the back of his mind for several months out of the way. "You live here in Chicago? A couple of blocks from the old Consulate?" It was Phil's turn to nod. "Why didn't you tell me that you lived here?"

"I didn't know if I wanted you back in my life. I've lived here for over seven years, Ben. I figured if I hadn't encountered you in those seven years then there was a good chance I wouldn't encounter you in the next. I had to work through my feelings about seeing you again." She bowed her head then whispered, "I admit that I'm a coward where you're concerned."

The elevator opened and Phil led Ben to her apartment. Before opening the door she dropped down before the wolf. "Dief...I'm expecting you to be on your best behavior. I don't want any accidents like the last time. Okay?" She stood and looked at Ben. "I bet you didn't even know that your wolf has already visited me several times."

Ben gave Dief a disapproving glance. "No, I didn't but now that I think back on his behavior these past few months, I believe I see a pattern developing."

Her eyebrows rose inquiringly but she let the question go unasked. As she fit the key in the lock, she spoke once more. "I have a cat. He's one of Bella's kittens. Cat gave him to me over a year ago when we first met."

Ben remembered the pictures of Phil with a small black kitten taken in Cat's house. Ben spoke to Dief. "Dief, this is one of Cat's cats. You are to be on your best behavior!"

*Woof* Dief already knew that. As far as cats went, these tended to be better than the usual run-of-the-mill feline.

Phil unlocked the door and the trio entered her apartment. "Here, let me take your coat." She took it and hung it in the coat closet.

Ben stood in the middle of the room turning his hat round and round as if the hatband had answers written on it.

Phil watched for a moment before taking it from his hands and setting it aside. To help bridge the awkward moment, Phil moved to the kitchen and set a teakettle on the stove. "Tea? Earl Grey? Hot?" she asked.

Ben followed her into the kitchen. "Earl Grey is fine."

"You're not a Star Trek fan, are you?"

"No, I've never had the opportunity to watch that particular television program. I do remember that you enjoyed it, though. Why?"

"The captain's favorite drink is tea. He's always requesting 'tea, Earl Grey, hot' from the food replicators."

"Ah."

Phil shook her head and grinned at him. They took their cups and moved back to the living area. Phil curled up in a chair and watched as Ben headed toward the sofa. The tapestry hanging behind it caught his attention. "Is that...?"

"Thunder Basin," Phil supplied.

Ben's finger traced a line across the precipice and came to rest on the scattering of trees at the edge. Barely distinguishable amidst the trees, three figures stood and gazed across the valley at the waterfalls--a man, a woman, and a small child. Bowing his head, he fought the tears threatening to blind him. His family, or what would have been his family, if he'd made a different choice all those years ago.

Ben swallowed and breathed deeply then turned and settled onto the sofa Chance chose that moment to slither out of the bedroom and establish his ownership of Phil. He jumped into her lap, circled then lay down. Ben watched as Dief trotted over to Phil. Dief and Chance sniffed each other, wrinkled their lips, then turned indifferent eyes to their respective owners.

"What a let down!" Phil laughed then turned serious. The effect of the tapestry on Ben had not gone unnoticed. "I don't know where we should start," Phil began.

"The beginning would seem be the most appropriate place," Ben offered.

"Okay...the beginning. I guess that would be when we parted and went our separate ways."

"That's the polite way of saying I broke our engagement for another woman."

"Yeah, that's me--polite to the core."

"That's not exactly what I would have called you."

She glared at him, "Oh yeah? What would you call me?"

"Stubborn...obstinate...bull-headed..."

"Okay...okay...I'm an SOB. At least that hasn't changed." She paused as Chance stretched then jumped down. They watched as the cat sidled up to Dief and batted at his tail. Off and running, Dief chased the impertinent animal into the kitchen. "Will, they be all right? I mean...Dief won't hurt Chance, will he?"

"No, this is just his usual behavior around Cat's cats. He's quite fond of the cats, although he will never admit it."

"Glad to hear that. Cat said as much." Rising to her feet, she strolled over to the CD player and selected a CD she knew Ben would enjoy. Returning to her chair, she settled in it turning her head to gaze out the patio door at the falling snow. The husky voice of Gordon Lightfoot sang softly in the background. Several minutes passed before either one spoke.

"I have to know Ben, why did you leave me? I've asked myself that question for the past twelve years. Cat has tried to tell me what you went through but...I would really like to know why. Was it something I did or said?"

Ben hung his head. "No, Phil, it was nothing you did or said. I don't honestly know why. At the time it seemed the right thing to do." He shook his head and searched for the right words to explain why he had done what he had done. He finally decided on the simple truth. "I tracked Victoria to Fortitude Pass. When I found her she was almost frozen to death. We kept each other alive during the blizzard. When it was past I brought her back to face justice. Those days we spent during the blizzard and afterwards...I don't know if what I felt was love, but at the time that's what it seemed like. She needed me and I needed her."

He paused, his head bowed, recalling that bleak moment when darkness had become an unwanted partner in his life, wrapping itself around his soul like a ribbon on a package. He sighed deeply then stood and wandered over to the patio door. Staring out at the falling snow, he continued, "We made love one night in a sleeping bag..." His voice was barely above a whisper. "We thought she would get a light sentence, but she was sentenced to 10 years. I promised to wait for her."

The irony of the situation struck Phil forcibly. She stared at Ben standing at the patio door. "You promised to wait for her? You...promised to...to wait for her?" Tears of anger filled her eyes and the words, when they came, boiled forth like a pot forgotten on the back of a stove. "You promised me the same damn thing. You promised to send for me. You," she struggled to remain calm, "...you promised to love me forever. How could you do that to me?" She flung herself out of the chair and flew across the room. Angry hurt burned in her eyes and voice as she beat on his chest with her fists. "I needed you and all I got was a 'sorry Phil, I've met someone else!'"

He captured her hands with his and drew her into his arms. "Please, Phil, let me finish my story. Then we can discuss the rights and wrongs of everything." Shaking with anger, she nodded shortly.

Ben breathed in the scent of her hair and his voice softened. "She came for me here in Chicago. She set Ray and me up to take the fall for a murder and robbery. She betrayed me and, yet, I wanted to go with her. Even at the end when I knew what kind of woman she really was, I still wanted to go with her." He released Phil and turned away from her. He stared out into the snowstorm and rubbed the back of his neck before continuing, "I thought she was my only chance for love. I had lost you and she was all I had. I nearly gave up everything that I valued to go with her. If Ray hadn't shot me..."

"Ray shot you?"

"Yes." Ben's eyes took on a far away look. "He thought Victoria had a gun and when he fired his...I...I sort of...got in the way."

Stunned, Phil remembered when Ray had told her of the shooting. "That must have devastated him. I know how close the two of you are."

Ben nodded his head and continued, "I don't know what would have happened to me if I had gone with her. We'd probably have killed each other by now." He turned away from the patio doors and returned to the sofa.

Phil followed and curled into her chair again. Ben continued in a subdued voice, "Anyway, while I was recovering in the hospital and afterwards, Cat helped me think through my feelings for Victoria and I realized that what I felt for her wasn't really love. The circumstances surrounding our meeting forced us into a closeness that I mistook for love. She played upon my emotions and we all suffered for it." He buried his face in his hands then slowly slid them down and around to massage the back of his neck.

"Phil, I want you to know..." His eyes locked with hers, "...I have never loved anyone the way I loved you. I'm sorry for the hurt I caused you." He sighed and leaned toward her, his eyes incredibly old. "I remember once saying that sometimes it was easier to believe you were in love than to accept that you were alone. After I broke up with you I was always alone."

He sat back on the sofa, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. He was emotionally drained and his head ached. He knew this talk would be difficult but he had not realized how draining it would be. It felt like every bone, every muscle in his body ached with the pain in his heart.

Phil simply stared at Ben. Tears glistening in her eyes, she took a deep breath to steady her voice, "Thank you, Ben. I always wondered what happened. Cat told me a lot but, I guess, I needed to hear it from you." She smiled wanly and asked, "Do you want me to tell you about Lindy?"

Ben nodded his head before he straightened his posture. A muscle quivered at his jaw. "Tell me about our daughter. I wish now that I had read your letters, Phil. I will never know my daughter." A ragged sob escaped before he dropped his face into his hands. "I will never forgive myself for that. Tell me about her--make her real for me."

Phil's heart lurched in her chest. She had already experienced the pain Ben now felt. She knew what he was going through. There was no simple, easy way to alleviate that hurt. Only time could do that. But now, she must help him as best she could--help him mourn for their lost daughter.

"Ben...it's as much my fault as it was yours. If I'd only had the confidence to face you...make you tell me face to face that you didn't love me but I didn't. I was so afraid..." Her voice broke and she swallowed then bowed her head. When she continued, her voice seemed to come from a long way off. "I let my fears keep me from you. I have lived with that act of cowardice for years. I've paid dearly for it, too."

A silence settled between the two, each deeply aware of their own contributions to the years of loneliness that stretched between them. Finally, Phil cleared her throat and in a soft voice told Ben everything there was to tell about Lindy--from her pregnancy, through Lindy's birth, and finally her death. "I've got all kinds of pictures of her. Would you like to see them?" There was a husky softness in her voice.

He nodded, but remained slumped on the sofa. Phil rose to her feet and headed to the bedroom. She soon returned with a large photo album. She sat on the sofa and handed the album to Ben. He took it and laid it in his lap. His eyes took on a faraway expression. He sat that way for the longest time before opening the album. Phil watched the fleeting emotions play across his face.

She scooted closer and began describing the pictures. She tried to give Ben a sense of how precious his daughter had been. A question from Ben brought her even closer--so close that their legs occasionally brushed each other.

Ben was intensely aware of Phil's closeness. Each time she reached across the album to point out something, he could smell the scent of her hair. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Where was the lavender scent he would forever associate with this woman? A puzzled frown knit his brows.

"Ben, are you all right?"

He listened to the real concern in her voice "Yes, Phil, I'm fine. I was just remembering the scent of your hair." He lightly fingered a loose tendril of hair on her cheek. "Every time I caught a whiff of lavender I thought of you, but you've changed your shampoo..."

"You thought of me?" Phil barely whispered.

Ben nodded and stared in the softest, brownest eyes he had ever seen--the color of rich coffee. He had always been able to tell what she was thinking by watching her eyes. He smiled as he recognized that old look of confusion and apprehension that had first captured his heart. His hand slipped behind her head and he drew her face to his.

"Do you remember that first time I kissed you?" His lips were inches from hers.

Phil blinked her eyes and gazed into his glacier blue ones. "Yes..."

"You were frightened of me, of the feelings you were experiencing." His thumb caressed her lower lip. "Are you still frightened of me, Phil?"

She couldn't hide her feelings from him. "Yes..."

"Why, Phil?"

Tears glistened in her eyes. "Because you have the power to hurt me like no other man can." She gazed into his intense eyes before shaking loose from his hand. She rose and backed away from him until she felt the safety of her chair. Her eyes never left his. Hearts beating faster, awareness united them. Phil was the first to break eye contact. She would not loose herself in the depth of those glacier blue pools of liquid fire.

Ben watched Phil retreat from him, separating herself from him by the width of the sofa and a table. He drew in a long shaky breath, bit his lower lip, and let the breath slowly flow around that barrier. The movement accentuated the ache in his head. He leaned back on the sofa closing his eyes. The heated room added to the general malaise he felt. Why did Phil keep it so hot in here? Lethargy settled into his body as his thoughts winged their way back to that summer in Colorado. His reverie was interrupted by Phil's concerned voice.

Phil watched as Ben leaned back and closed his eyes. His skin seemed paler than usual and the normal vibrancy she usually noted in him was lacking. Rising, she returned to the sofa and settled beside him. On closer examination, she noted his face was flushed and he didn't look well.

"Are you feeling all right, Ben? You don't look so good."

His eyes blinked open and he stared blankly at Phil struggling to focus on her. "I'm fine, Phil. Just...these last few days have caught up with me. I'll be fine after a good night's sleep." Still, he did not move from his slumped position on the sofa. He felt light-headed and drained of energy. Phil's low, husky voice soothed his troubled thoughts. Why did Phil keep it so hot in here? Ben nodded and made an effort to sit up. He groaned and slumped back down.

"Ben, you really don't look well. Are you sure you feel all right?"

"...fine, just hot. Why is it so hot in here?" A petulant note crept into his voice.

"It's not hot in here, Ben. Actually, it's a little chilly." He really didn't look well. She gently placed a hand on his forehead. "Ben, you're burning up. Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

He batted her hand away, "..not sick...never been sick...just hot."

"I'll say you're hot! You're running a fever. Who's your doctor? Maybe we can catch him before..."

"Don't have a doctor...don't need one."

"Okay, you don't have a doctor? What about Rob?" She caught her lip between her teeth then made a decision. "I'll call Rob." She rose to get the phone. Ben struggled to his feet and staggered after her.

At a surprised 'Oh dear!' Phil turned to see Ben collapse in a heap on the floor. Shocked, she remained motionless for a moment then rushed to his side. She rolled him over and cradled his head in her lap. "And you call me stubborn! Come on, Ben, open your eyes."

Ben's eyes fluttered open, a glazed look in them. He gazed up into Phil's worried brown eyes. Where was he? What was he doing on the floor? How did he get here? "What happened?" he finally managed to ask.

"You passed out."

"I most certainly did not!" He would not admit to any weakness, imagined or otherwise.

Phil shook her head. "Okay, have it your way. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, curled up your toes, and laid on the floor. Anything I left out?"

A sheepish grin curved his mouth. "You didn't mention anything about the room spinning or the little black spots." He wouldn't mention the sharp stab of pain that still raced across his back.

Unaware of Ben's pain, Phil chuckled. "If I help you to the sofa, will you stay there while I call Rob?" Ben nodded.

When he was stretched out on the sofa, Phil went in search of a towel. She quickly soaked it in cold water and applied it to his face then found her phone and called her brother. "Rob, this is Phil. Can you come over to my place?"

"Right now, Flip? This storm's pretty bad and it's getting worse. I was just heading home."

"I know, Rob. But I have a friend here and he just collapsed. He's running a fever. I need you to look him over, see if I need to get him to the hospital."

"I'll be right over, Flip. A friend? Someone I know?"

"Yes, it's Ben."

Phil did not miss the pause before Rob asked, "Ben Fraser?"

"Yeah. Look, we're trying to work out the problems between us and I don't need you preaching at me. Will you come now that you know who it is?"

There was silence on the other end. Finally Rob spoke, "I have my reservations Flip, but I won't deny you the chance to mend any bridges--if it's possible. Besides, he is my patient. I'll be right over."

"Thanks, Rob. I love you."

Phil hurried back to the sofa and Ben. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep. He muttered something, then moved restlessly on the sofa. His eyes opened but the fever had claimed his senses and he didn't see Phil's concerned looks. His eyes fluttered, then closed again.

Phil pushed her hands deep into her pockets. Staring down at the man she had once loved she felt something long suppressed stir in her heart. She quickly turned away and fled to the kitchen.

Fixing a fresh cup of tea, Phil struggled with the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her. How could the sight of one man stretched out on her sofa bring such thoughts of tenderness and concern? Especially since he had caused her such pain in the past? Sipping her cup of tea, she wandered back to the sofa. She again stared down at Ben. Even sick he was the handsomest man she had ever seen. She glanced at her watch. What was keeping Rob?

Dief approached the sofa and snuffed at Alpha Male. *Whine* He turned his muzzle to Lavender Woman.

Phil read the concern in the wolf's eyes. "I know, Dief. He's very sick. Don't worry, I'll take good care of him." She scratched the wolf behind the ears. "Now you go on and let me take care of Ben."

"Are you going to take care of me, Phil?" The voice was very soft but unmistakable.

"Of course I will. What are friends for?" The fevered glaze of his eyes could not disguise the brief flash of happiness in their depths. Their eyes locked and the years seemed to recede. Ben's hand reached for hers.

Phil jerked back at the knock on her apartment door. "That's Rob. I'll just let him in." She quickly retreated from the sofa and the man lying there.

In a matter of moments, Rob approached the sofa. His eyes locked with Ben's. A wealth of information was passed in that glance. He put out his hand. "How are you feeling, Ben?"

Ben shook the offered hand. "I thought that was what you were supposed to tell me."

Rob grinned at Ben. "I'll see what I can do. Do you feel strong enough to move into the bedroom? I don't think you want me to examine you out here."

"No, that would not be my first choice. I think I can manage if I can just get to my feet." He struggled to sit up but could only do so after both Rob and Phil lent a hand.

It wasn't easy maneuvering a man of Ben's size, but with an arm draped across both their shoulders, they managed to get Ben to the bed. Phil pulled the covers down and they rolled him onto it. Rob bent to his task. He unfastened the shoulder strap of the Sam Browne belt and began unbuttoning Ben's tunic but was stopped by Ben's hand grasping his wrist. "What...what's the matter, Ben?"

"Not until she leaves."

Rob turned to Phil. "You heard him. I'll call you if I need you." Phil left the two men alone. "Now, Ben. Let's get this over with."

Rob helped Ben remove his tunic, slide the suspenders down, and remove his Henley. Sweat glistened on Ben's broad chest and light glinted from the chain and its captive ring around his neck. He recognized it as the one that had resided around Phil's neck for so many years. When had Phil returned it? The last thing to go was Ben's boots.

Rob felt Ben's neck then ran his hands down his shoulders to his armpits then across his chest. His hands next moved to Ben's sides and palpitated several spots.

"Constable, let me make a guess. You've been visiting some of our schools, haven't you?" Ben nodded an affirmative.

"I'm pretty sure what's wrong, but I need to check one more area." He reached for the button at the waist of the trousers. Ben's hand stopped him. "Ben, I need to check the glands in your groin. There's a nasty little virus going around our school system that plays havoc with the glandular system." He waited as the information sunk in and the hand was withdrawn. Rob unbuttoned the trousers and pulled them down and off. He unbuttoned the white boxers and slid them down Ben's hips. Ben flung an arm over his face and endured the gentle probing touch. It was soon over.

Rob pulled the boxers back up then flipped the comforter over Ben's unclad body. "Let's get your temperature and I want to listen to your chest." Rob turned to the door. "Flip, I need your help for a minute."

Phil entered the room and approached the bed. "What can I do?"

"Help me get Ben to a sitting position. I need to listen to his back."

Rob helped pull Ben to a sitting position and Phil held him to her as Rob listened to his back. She was intensely aware of Ben's face so close to hers. She could smell his own unique masculine scent--soap and sandalwood. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Long dormant memories tickled her senses. She felt the rasp of the chain on her cheek. All too soon they were easing Ben back to the bed.

Rob put his stethoscope away and came to sit on the bed next to Phil. "You've definitely got that nasty little virus I mentioned. Fortunately, you haven't developed any of the associated complications that can happen, but I'm afraid you're going to feel a lot worse before you feel better. The virus usually runs its course in two to four days. You just have to weather it." He stood up and gathered his things together. "Take care, Ben. I'll check on you again tomorrow."

Phil walked Rob to the door. Rob placed a hand on her shoulder. "I can call an ambulance and have him in the hospital in no time."

Suddenly afraid, Phil asked, "Does he need to go to the hospital?"

Sensing her fear, Rob sought to ease them. "No, not really. But he can't be left alone. He needs someone to care for him. In a few cases the virus has had some serious complications. The hospital is the best solution."

Phil glanced back toward the man in her bed. "No, unless it's absolutely necessary, he can stay here with me."

"Philippe..."

"No, Rob. He can't go home alone. He's my friend, and I'll not call Ray and ask him to come and get him like I couldn't be bothered with him. If he doesn't need a hospital, he can stay here. I can take care of him. What's the problem, Rob?"

"Flip, you don't need a strange man in your apartment. You'd have to take care of his..." Rob searched for words, "...his needs, Phil. You understand what I'm saying?"

"I understand exactly what you're saying, Rob. You forget, this isn't any 'strange' man. This is Ben Fraser. It's not as if I haven't seen him in the buff. Dammit, Rob, we made a baby together. You know what goes into making a baby."

Rob smiled ruefully. He knew better than try to talk Phil out of something she had decided on. He grudgingly acceded. "You know the drill for treating a virus--bed rest, fluids, keep him warm when he chills and cool when he's fevered. If this virus runs true to course, the fever will come in waves so don't be surprised if he's lucid one moment and out of it the next. I'll call in a prescription to your pharmacy for the fever and the aches and pains. You can pick it up?" Phil nodded and gave him the number. "I'll check back tomorrow. You gonna be okay?"

Phil nodded. "Thanks, Rob. What would I do without you?"

"Take Ben to the hospital."

She laughed and gave him a brief hug. "Give my love to Beth and the kids." She saw her brother off then returned to the bedroom to find Ben struggling to pull his on his trousers.

"JUST WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" she shouted.

Ben cringed. "I'm going home. Don't try to stop me."

"You can't go, Ben, not in the shape you're in. You heard Rob." Ben continued to struggle with his trousers. "You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?" Ben's fever-glazed eyes glared at her, daring her to stop him. "Okay, let's make a deal. If you can dress yourself and make it to my apartment door on your own, I'll drive you home. Okay?"

Ben nodded. "Deal."

Phil sat on the foot of the bed and watched Ben continue his struggle with his trousers. She fought her own battle against laughing. He would never get them on if he didn't turn that one leg out. How they had gotten twisted like that was beyond her.

Ben finally recognized the problem and turned the one leg. His movements were slowly but surely slowing down. The trousers were to his knees, to his thighs, but getting them higher was more than he could accomplish. His struggles ceased and he sat on the edge of the bed with his head bowed breathing in ragged gasps of air. He turned his head slightly and moaned, "I can't move...I ache all over...can you help me, Phil?" The bewildered look he turned on her only magnified the fever brightness of his eyes. "I seem to have lost my clothes..."

Phil took pity on him and came around the bed and knelt in front of him. She took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. "Ben, you're very ill. You've got to rest. Let me help you get back into bed."

The blankness of his gaze told her she would get no arguments. The slightest touch to his chest caused him to collapse back onto the bed. It was a simple matter to pull his pants off again and to swing his legs up. He was already asleep.

She covered him with the sheet and bent to pick up his clothes. 'I'd better put these some place where he can't find them or he's liable to try to leave on his own again.' She looked down into his face, flushed with the fever, and shook her head. "What am I going to do with you?" she whispered to herself.

"Your biggest obstacle is Ben's stubborn pride." Phil turned to see Caroline standing at the foot of the bed. Bob Fraser joined her and placed an arm around the image of his wife.

Phil sighed. "It must be hard to watch us make the same mistakes over and over again. Even after you've offered your help and advice." She turned her gaze back to the man in the bed. "Well, what do you suggest I do?"

"Just be yourself. Ben fell in love with you once before. He still cares deeply for you. Just don't give up on him," Caroline said.

"No, don't give up on him. He needs a strong woman and you've shown your strength and love for him. Don't let him make the same mistake he made all those years ago. Now more than ever, you two need to mend those fences," Bob spoke in a voice filled with wisdom.

"Before I commit myself to him, he's going to have to prove himself to me. I will not let him hurt me like he did. I've gotten over him...or at least I've learned how to live without him. I don't need him." But when she looked up, both Bob and Caroline were gone.

Phil carried Ben's clothes to the small utility room. She shook them out, hung the tunic and trousers on a hanger, and threw the Henley in the washer. She added some of her clothes and turned the machine on. She returned to the bedroom and collected the boots. Those she stashed in the coat closet.

Returning to the living room she motioned to Dief. "Let's go check your 'pee-mail' and pick up the medicine for Ben." She grabbed her green woolen overcoat and followed Dief to the door.

The walk to the park was quite nice considering the temperature hovered in the low teens, the snow fell in a continuous white blanket, and the wind whipped fiercely along the streets. "Lets get your business taken care of so we can get to the pharmacy and back before I freeze my butt off or Ben takes a notion to go home in his shorts." The wolf complied quickly and they were soon on their way to the pharmacy and back to Phil's place.

Phil hung her coat to dry and checked on Ben. He was sprawled across the bed, having flung the sheet aside. Sweat glistened on his exposed skin. Chance was curled up at the foot of the bed. Phil watched Ben for a moment before turning and quietly leaving the room. She wandered over to the window and stared out at the blizzard that was settling in over Chicago. A solitary tear slowly inched its way down her cheek. "How can one man be so beautiful? Why do I still feel the way I do?" She sighed deeply and turned to the wolf.

"Well, Dief, I guess you'll be staying with me, too."

*Woof* His Alpha Male was ill. Of course he would stay to protect him. Besides--this was the Lavender Woman and he liked her even if she did have a cat.

"Are you hungry?" Dief woofed. "I hope you like this dog food I got you. You're fortunate that my pharmacy carries a line of pet supplies. Besides, It's all I have." She filled a bowl with the kibble, another with water, and stepped back to allow the wolf access to the food. "When you're finished, I've got a couple of beef bones." Dief's ears perked up.

Phil left Dief to his dinner and went to fix hers. Leftover jambalaya went into the microwave. She pulled out a large pan and heated some chicken stock. She added rice and leftover chicken. Ben would need something nourishing to help him fight the virus and homemade chicken soup was just the right ticket.

After eating, Phil ventured back to the bedroom to check on Ben. She was surprised to find him awake. She stood in the doorway watching him. After a few moments, Ben noticed her presence. He quickly drew the sheet over his body. Phil came into the room and approached the bed. Ben's eyes followed her progress. "How do you feel, Ben?"

"I've felt better," he grudgingly admitted.

Phil smiled. "I bet you have!" She sat on the side of the bed and placed a hand on his forehead. "You're not going to fight me?"

"Would it do any good?"

"Well, no...but I do so love to see you try," she said with a smile in her voice.

"You're a cruel and malicious woman, Phil McKenzie."

Gently placing a finger on his lips, she shook her head slightly. "Now is that any way to talk to your 'nurse'? If you're not 'nice' I might just permanently lose your clothes."

"You would, too. Wouldn't you?"

Phil quirked her head and considered the question. "What do you think...now that I have you at my mercy?"

Ben smiled and dragged his thumb across his forehead. "You only talk like that because you know I can't defend myself. I never pictured you as a person who enjoyed tormenting a helpless man."

"Well, that all depends on the man." She neatly captured the hands that reached for her and held them clasped in front of her. "Do you feel up to some soup? You need to eat something and take your medicine."

"I'm really not hungry."

"I know, but you need to eat anyway." She rose and stepped away from the bed. "I'll be right back." She left the room.

Darn, but he hated being sick. He was used to being in control of any situation. This fever robbed him of his control--his ability to take care of himself. Like right now! He desperately needed to visit the bathroom and was gathering the reserves of his dissipated strength to make the attempt when Phil walked in. He still needed to go but he didn't want her hovering over him. He turned his head and stared longingly at the door to the bath. Mustering his strength, he rolled to his side, slid his feet off the bed, and levered himself to a sitting position. So far, so good. He drew in a shaky breath and pushed his body off the bed. His hand sought the wall for support and he staggered to the bathroom. Even though his knees shook badly, he relieved himself and turned to negotiate his way back to the bed.

"Darn!" A spasm of pain shot across his back and he collapsed back onto the toilet. Black spots whirled before his eyes as he fought the dizziness and miasma. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. "Why can't I just die and get it over with!" he moaned.

"Probably because you're too damn stubborn for your own good!" Ben raised his eyes to see Phil leaning in the doorway.

"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't think you needed my help. You seemed to be handling everything okay. Was I wrong?"

"No." He shook his head and groaned as the movement increased the pounding in his skull.

Phil saw the spasm of pain flash across his face. "I think you need to get back into bed, Ben. Can I offer my assistance?"

Ben nodded in gratitude. He could accept an offer of aid where he would have never asked for it. "But first, could I have a wet wash cloth to..." He made motions with his hands, "...to clean...that is, I feel..." he stared helplessly at Phil.

Phil smiled and shook her head. Entering the bath, she opened the linen cabinet and retrieved a wash cloth, towel, and a bar of soap. The towel she handed to Ben then turned the sink on and let the water warm. She filled the sink with warm water. "Now, you just sit there on the toilet. You can reach the sink from there." He nodded his understanding. "I'll leave and give you some privacy. Besides, I need to get your soup."

Phil returned to the kitchen and dished out a bowl of steaming hot soup. A thought struck her and she hurried to her office. Digging in the large storage dresser in the corner, she came up with the package of silk boxers she had bought as a gag gift for TJ. "These should do the trick." She also retrieved the sweats TJ had left after staying with her when he recuperated from his appendicitis. She left the sweats on the dresser then hurried with the package of boxers to the bathroom.

Sliding to a halt, her mouth dropped open. She had forgotten just how beautiful Ben's bare backside was. She gulped and turned away. "I'm sorry, Ben. I thought I made it clear that you were not to stand up. What do you think you're doing? You could fall and hurt yourself. Don't you ever do anything someone tells you to do? I've half a mind..."

"I doubt that, Phil. If anything you have twice the mind of anyone I know. Do you realize you babble when you're flustered?"

"Ben..."

"You can turn around now, Phil." She slowly obeyed. Ben leaned against the sink, the towel held securely in front of him. "I didn't expect you back so soon. Don't you know it's not polite to burst in on a man in the bathroom?" He liked the red flush that colored her face.

"I'm sorry, Ben, but...here!" She thrust the package of boxers at him. "I bought these for TJ but I think you probably could use them more. Call when you need me." She turned and fled the room.

Ben's laughter followed her to the kitchen. Call when he needed her? Did she even realize what she had just said? He sat back down on the toilet and opened the package and chose a pair of navy boxers. He slid them on. The silk was sinfully cool against his warm skin. The contrast between his plain, white starched boxers and these was the difference between night and day. He sighed in contentment. Now, if he only felt better he would let Phil know just how much he needed her. Unfortunately, his trip to the bathroom had drained him. All he could think of was climbing back in bed and sleeping until the illness passed or hell froze over, whichever happened first. He lifted his head when he heard unmistakable sounds of Phil in the bedroom. He waited. Finally, a discrete knock on the doorjamb preceded Phil's entrance.

"Are you ready for your return trip?" She stared at the man sitting on her toilet. His pale skin contrasted sharply with the navy boxers and the gold chain glinting in the light. She swallowed and visions of her hands roaming freely over that bare skin struck a strident note in her.

Ben held his hand out to her and she helped him climb to his feet. It wasn't too bad. They slowly moved across the room, Ben's arm across Phil's shoulders. No words were spoken between them, each too intensely aware of the other.

Settling him in the bed, Phil plumped the pillows behind him and brought the bowl of soup over to the nightstand. She handed the spoon to Ben. "Are you strong enough to feed yourself? You look drained to me."

Ben took the spoon and let his hand fall to his lap. He really didn't want to eat, much less try to wield that spoon. He gave Phil a defeated look. "Phil, I'm really not hungry ...and this spoon must weigh at least ten kilos."

"Ben, you're going to have some of this soup. If you don't object, I'll feed it to you..." she saw the refusal in his eyes, "...just until you feel up to doing it yourself. Okay?" Ben reluctantly agreed and managed to down almost the whole bowl of soup.

"Pampered, head and foot. You're getting soft, Son." Bob Fraser stood at the foot of the bed.

Ben opened his mouth to answer him, but Phil stopped him with a spoonful of soup.

"Phil, you'll spoil him. Once a man gets used to the soft things in life he's spoiled. No good ever came of being spoiled."

"Ben's sick and if I chose to 'spoil' him, who's going to stop me? You? It's about time someone spoiled him."

Ben stared at her in amazement. His gaze shifted between his father's image and Phil. "Do you...I mean...my father..." He gestured with his hand.

Phil sat the bowl of soup down on the nightstand. Tossing a glance over her shoulder she turned back to Ben. "I met your father on the trip through the Canyon." She asked of the senior Fraser, "Where's Caroline?"

"She was just here a moment ago. Ah, there she is. We were just talking about you, Dearest."

Caroline joined Bob at the foot of the bed. "How's Ben doing, Phil?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

"Phil, he doesn't see me. He never has."

By now Ben was thoroughly confused. Not only was Phil having a conversation with his father but both of them were conversing with a third party. He slid back down the pillows in the bed. Maybe if he slept his mind would clear and he could make sense of everything. He felt the flush of fever wash over him and he reached for Phil's hand.

Phil turned at the touch of Ben's hand on hers. She saw the feverish glint to his eyes and knew that Ben was slipping into a fevered sleep. "Ben?" She leaned close to him and stroked his face with her hand. "Ben, would you like to see your mother again?"

Ben's eyelids fluttered. His mother? He smiled as he remembered his mother and how she had always ruffled his hair and ran her fingers down his cheek. Yes, he wanted to see his mother again. He closed his eyes and felt the bed shift as Phil rose from sitting beside him. Did he imagine the soft touch of fingers running through his hair and the softest of touches on his cheek? He slowly opened his eyes and gazed into the same glacier blue eyes that stared back at him in a mirror. "Mum?"

"Hello, Benton. Do you really see me?" There was anxious hope in Caroline's voice.

"Mum? Is that you?" He swallowed and his voice filled with longing. "I've missed you so much. I love you, Mum..." His eyes closed and he slipped into the warmth of the fevered sleep. He didn't see the tears of joy that sparkled briefly in his mother's eyes.

"He saw me. He actually saw me." She smiled at Phil and Bob. "Thank you, Phil."

Phil smiled back at Ben's parents. "Let me situate him more comfortably then we can..." but Phil now spoke to an empty room. She smiled then bent to the task she had set herself. She carefully removed the extra pillows from behind Ben, checked his forehead once more. She felt the shiver that raced across his body. Ben's eyes never opened but he muttered softly to himself. Phil strained to hear what was being said.

"Quit hogging...quilt...you're a wolf, for gosh sakes ...Diefenbaker..."

Phil gently spread the blanket and quilt over Ben. "I'll find a quilt for Dief so he won't take yours, Ben." She stared at him a moment longer then left the room.

Phil stood in front of the window and stared blankly out at the darkness. Why had he come back into her life? Why was she doing this to herself? Why was she letting him get to her? Hadn't she been hurt enough? Was she some kind of masochist who delighted in being hurt? She thought of the men who had entered her life since Ben left her--Jason Weller, her friend from Rocky Mountain Rescue; Travis Hunter, the river runner; Lloyd Hope, Beth's cousin; or Martin Stevenson, the doctor. Why couldn't she forget Ben and love one of them? Why did he haunt her dreams? Why did she ache for him? Why did she still love him?

That was the whole, simple, unvarnished truth. She still loved him. She had always loved him. She would always love him. But did he love her like he claimed he did?

She once thought he did, but he had left her for another woman--a murderer and a thief. Could she ever believe him again? Without trust, she couldn't give her heart to him. Cat had said, over and over, that Ben still loved her. Ben had said the same thing. But was it enough?

Maybe it was better to be alone with the hope that someday someone would come along and replace Ben in her heart than to give into him and lose him again. If she only knew what he really felt toward her. If she could only feel free to love him again, without the ghost of Victoria coming between them. If she could only trust him with her love. If only...

Brushing those thoughts aside, she struggled to find something to occupy her thoughts. Memories of this morning's activities at the office came to mind and she resolved to set up her own small Christmas tree and decorate her apartment. That would keep her mind occupied for several hours.

Soon a small artificial tree with festive decorations stood on a low table in front of her patio doors. The lights twinkled merrily with their promise of "peace and goodwill". A large crocheted poinsettia tablecloth had replaced the Navajo rug on the piano and the large walnut dining table was decorated with candles and holly.

Pleased with her efforts, Phil gathered the empty boxes and put them away. With a yawn, she realized how tired she was. She needed to check on Ben once more before she felt like she could go to bed herself. It had been more than an hour since she last checked on Ben. She tiptoed softly into the bedroom, the light from the hall sending a shaft of light across the bed. Ben was sleeping quietly. She dug through her lingerie drawer until she found that old RCMP T-shirt and a pair of boxers. Pulling them from her dresser, she entered the bathroom, closing and locking the door. She vividly remembered the last time she had taken a shower and Ben was present...altogether present. That wouldn't happen again.

Wrapped in her robe, Phil left the sanctuary of the bath and approached the bed. She remembered a promise she had made and pulled a quilt from the chest in the corner. She spread it on the floor near the bed. "Dief," she said as she knelt in front of the wolf, "this is for you. I'm sleeping in my office. If Ben needs me, come and get me. I'll leave the light on in the bathroom."

*Whine* Dief smelled the quilt then circled and lay down. He watched Lavender Woman check Alpha Male and leave the room. Thankfully, the cat went with her.

A cool, wet nose on her cheek brought Phil instantly awake.

*Whine*

"What is it, Dief? Does Ben need me?" Phil swept the hair from her face and rolled over.

*Woof*

"All right, I'm coming." Phil quickly threw back the covers, shifted Chance off her feet, and followed the wolf to her bedroom. Ben had thrown the covers off and was tossing back and forth.

"Thanks, Dief. I'll take care of him." She sat on the side of the bed and captured Ben's hands in her own.

He stilled and turned delirium-blank eyes to her. "Victoria?" Pain squeezed Phil's heart. "Victoria? Is that you? Why did you do that to Ray...to me? I thought you loved me...Victoria?"

Tears of anger and betrayal gathered behind Phil's closed eyelids. Well, she had her answers. Victoria's ghost would always be there between them. She could never trust him. Never again could she believe his words of love. She would know they were lies. She regretted ever having sent the letters to Ben. A tear escaped and ran down her cheek. Phil angrily swiped at it.

"Victoria? Why Victoria? Why?" He uttered such a bitter laugh that Phil's attention was immediately caught. He laughed again. "Why aren't you...Phil? You? You could never...be...Phil. You're nothing...nothing like her...so... so consumed...your own needs...desires...can't think...anyone but yourself."

His head rolled back on the pillow and he pulled his hands free of Phil's. "Leave...leave me alone...you destroyed...my life...my happiness..." He rolled away from her and plucked at the covers. "Go away...don't love you...never loved you..." He moaned and whispered to the pillow he clutched so desperately. "Phil...so sorry...Phil...miss you so much...please forgive me...Phil...love you..." His voice slowly faded.

"Ben?" the softest of whispers tickled his mind. Phil lived and walked and loved in his dreams. If he could only have her in his dreams then he would never wake up. He didn't want to face a life without her. He felt the soft hands on his shoulder, turning him over, running across his cheek, caressing his lips. "T?"

T? No one had ever called him 'T' except Phil. Phil? He slowly opened an eye. In the dimness of the strange room he could make out the profile of the woman who leaned over him. "Phil?" he spoke the name in a voice made weak by his illness.

"I'm right here, Ben."

"Phil...that really you...or...just dream...if I wake will you...will you be gone again...so lonely, Phil, so cold. Please...can I stay...stay with you in this dream...don't want to wake, Phil...please..."

"Shush, Ben. Everything's fine. I'm here with you. I'll always be here for you, T."

"Promise?" The scared, wistful, little-boy lost tone in his voice tore at her heart. How many promises had been made to this man and broken? She caressed the ring on its chain around his neck--her ring. She had never broken a promise to this man and she wasn't about to start now.

"I promise, T. I'll be here for you if you need me," she whispered, her hand on her breast.

He sighed and closed his eyes. A moment later they opened again as if checking to make sure she was still there. They closed again. A hand sought hers and grasped it with the intensity of a drowning man and a life preserver.

She sat with him until his breathing eased and his grasp slackened. She carefully unclenched his hand and removed hers. She slowly stood and stretched.

"Phil? Phil, where are you?"

She turned in alarm at the cry. "I'm here, Ben. I'm here."

"Don't leave me, Phil. Don't leave me." He struggled to sit.

Phil quickly pressed him back on the bed. "Ben, I'm here. I'll stay with you." She slowly straightened again.

Ben immediately called for her. He calmed only after she seated herself beside him and held his hand. "Don't leave me, Phil." His fever-bright eyes pleaded with her.

What could she do? Sit on the side of the bed for, she looked at the clock--midnight--sit all night? She shook her head as she thought of the time when she had been delirious with a fever and Ben had stayed with her. Could she do no less?

"Ben, listen to me carefully." She took his face in her hands and spoke slowly and clearly to him. "Do you understand me?" He slowly nodded. "Good, I'm going to stand up now. Don't worry--I'm not leaving you. I'm going to stand up and walk around to the other side of the bed. Do you understand me so far?" He nodded once more but the fear was building in his eyes. "Ben, I'm not leaving you--I'm going to get into bed with you. Do you understand?"

His fevered eyes stared blankly for a moment then relief replaced the growing fear. He watched her slowly stand and remove her robe before moving away from the bed. "Phil?" Panic began to build. She was leaving him.

Phil quickly retraced her steps. "What am I going to do with you, T," she whispered. She shook her head then reached across his body and threw back the covers. "Lay still now, Ben." She climbed onto the bed, then climbed across his body. She tucked her feet under the covers and pulled them up covering the both of them.

Ben rolled over and hungrily pulled her into his arms. His hands roamed over her body trying to touch all of her at once. His hands tugged at her shirt, her boxers.

Phil cradled him in her arms and held him as his frantic movements slowed then ceased. The gentle susurration of his breathing feathered against her neck. His body relaxed in sleep. Phil closed her eyes and let her body feel. She felt his arms around her, the firmness of his frame pressed against hers, his leg pressed between hers, his soft hair tickled her nose as she kissed the top of his head. Her skin tingled in each spot that felt his bare skin. Even her toes tingled. She felt the smooth skin of his back, her hand moving up and down it until her fingers encountered the small puckered skin of the scar. She gently stroked it and a tear trickled down her cheek--not only for the man she held in her arms, but also for the friend who had suffered as well.

A wave of protectiveness swept over her as she fiercely hugged Ben, loosing another portion of bitterness and distrust. She sighed and followed him into sleep. Maybe she would dream of him.

Ben slowly swam up out of the darkness that had consumed him. He recalled the dreams that had visited him. Maybe if he tried hard enough he could return to them. Lord knows, he didn't want to wake to find himself alone again. His hand slid up his leg to his boxers then his shirt. His shirt? His hand slid back down. Silk boxers? His hand slid back up to the shirt and touched his arm. Why didn't he feel his hand on his arm? A movement not his own jolted his hand from the arm to the shirt again. His hand cupped a breast. A breast? His eyes flew open. He propped himself up on his elbow and stared in apprehension at the woman beside him. He gazed around the room. Where was he? Who was this woman? What had happened? Why did he ache all over?

The woman rolled over and the light from the bathroom spilled across her face. Phil? He stared in shock. Phil?

Suddenly, it all came back to him. He was sick. He looked again at Phil. Why was she in bed with him? Was she in bed with him or was this just another dream? He cautiously touched her arm. It felt like an arm. His hand crept to her breast. It felt like a breast. Phil sighed and moved beneath his hand. He cupped her face and placed the lightest kiss he could manage on her lips. His hand was shaking as exhaustion took its toll. He lowered himself back down beside Phil. She rolled again and threw an arm across his chest. He slid an arm around her and closed his eyes. If this were a dream then he would never, ever leave it.

The first thing Phil did when she awakened was check Ben's temperature. His skin was cooler to the touch. The second thing she did was carefully disentangle her legs from his and ease herself from his arms. That was probably the most difficult thing she had ever done--and there were many things she had done that had been difficult. The third thing she did was to climb out of the bed and straighten the side she had slept in.

She hurried from the room and dressed. A pot of coffee was brewed and the first cup accompanied her and Dief as they took their morning walk. The snow had stopped but the wind still blew with an intensity that seemed to find and exploit any little opening that existed. It whistled up Phil's coat sleeves and down the back of her neck.

"I hate Chicago winters! I hate winter! Come on, Dief! Can't you hurry it up? I don't have your fur coat and I'm freezing my buns off!" At least the coffee helped a little bit. "If you hurry, I'll stop at the bakery...or better yet, I'll make some blueberry muffins."

Dief hurried as he didn't particularly like the cold either and the prospect of a muffin was inviting.

Ben lay quietly, drifting in that grey region between sleep and wakefulness. His conscious mind demanded he go about the business of getting up. His subconscious mind recognized his body's need for rest. His hand slowly reached for the anchor his subconscious mind told him was there. His conscious mind reminded him, she couldn't be there. His conscious mind told him he was alone; his subconscious insisted that the loneliness was gone. His conscious mind replayed Victoria to his subconscious mind, but his subconscious mind countered with images of Phil. The silent, mental battle between the two dark haired women raged back and forth between his conscious and subconscious mind.

Returning to the loft, Phil checked Ben. He was still asleep. Disappointed that he wasn't awake, she fed Chance then made a pitcher of orange juice and whipped up a batch of blueberry muffins. After what seemed like forever to the wolf, she buttered a muffin and handed it to him.

"I'm surprised at you, Dief. You're a wolf. Aren't you supposed to like, well, wolf food?" She glared at the unrepentant wolf. "Don't tell me, let me guess. You're a junk food junkie. I should have known. You've been corrupted by 'civilization.'"

*Woof*

"That's still no excuse! Hasn't Ben taught you better?"

*Whine*

"I see...blame it on the helpless Mountie. Next thing I know you'll be telling me he's a bad influence on you." Phil ran a hand across her face. "Look at me...I'm holding a conversation with a deaf wolf. And if that isn't bad enough...the wolf's answering me."

*Woof*

"I didn't ask for you opinion concerning my sanity. In fact, I didn't ask for your opinion at all!"

She grabbed a muffin before the wolf could get it and strolled to the window. She munched on it as she stood and stared out at the snow-blanketed city. Sighing she turned back to the kitchen and put a kettle of water on. Fixing a cup of herbal tea she tiptoed to the bedroom.

"Ben?"

A soft voice summoned him. His drifting thoughts slowly joined his body and awareness spread over him. His senses told him he was face down in a bed not his own, his arm hanging over the side. Where was he? His memories were vague. Images of Victoria and Phil warred in his mind. He inhaled deeply. If this was Phil's bed, where was the lavender scent he had come to associate with her? If this wasn't Phil's bed, then whose was it? He was suddenly afraid. His conscious mind supplied the image he dreaded most--Victoria.

He felt the bed shift as someone sat beside him. He was afraid to open his eyes and confirm his fears. A hand gently stroked his head, felt his forehead, then slowly trailed down his shoulder and back.

"T...open your eyes. I know you're awake." Phil whispered in his ear.

Ben recognized the slightly husky voice that whispered so close to his ear. Relief flooded him, the knot in his stomach unwound and the muscles of his neck and shoulders relaxed. He drew in a deep shuddering breath and slowly expelled it. Only then did he open his eyes. He rolled onto his side and gazed into the softest, brownest eyes he had ever seen. He saw the worry buried in their depths.

"Welcome back, Ben. How do you feel?"

How did he feel? He felt like a condemned man with a last minute reprieve; a hostage suddenly set free; a dying man with a miracle cure. How did he feel? "I feel like I've been trampled by a horse. I ache all over!"

Phil smiled and helped Ben pull himself to a sitting position. She leaned across him, snagged the other pillow, and stuffed it behind him. She felt Ben draw in a deep breath. Turning her face to him, she asked, "What are you doing?"

"You don't smell like lavender anymore. Why? I miss it."

"You miss my shampoo?" She gave him a quizzical look. "Why would you do that?"

"Because it was such an integral part of you. In all the years since I left you every time I smelled lavender I thought of you." He placed a hand behind her head and gently pulled it down to him. Burying his face in her hair he inhaled deeply. His eyes closed. "Hmmm....lilac. I could become accustomed to lilac..." His fingers trailed down her cheek. "I...I missed you, Phil. I made a terrible mistake." He released her then bowed his head and studied his hands.

Phil took his hands in hers and brought them to her lips. "We all make mistakes, Ben. Some just hurt more than others. Fortunately, sometimes we're given a second chance to correct those mistakes." She smiled and handed the cup of tea to him. "Here, drink this. It's good for you."

He took the tea from her and swallowed a sip of the soothing brew. Second chances...he had heard that before. He fervently hoped that a second chance was possible. He finished the cup. "Could I bother you for a refill?"

Phil smiled and rose. "I'll be right back."

Ben stopped her. "Could you give me a hand to the bath, first?" Phil grinned and nodded.

He slid his feet off the bed and pushed himself upright. His progress to the bath was slow and a bit unsteady. He was glad Phil was there to lean on. She left him and closed the door of the bath behind her.

Ben stretched and felt his body ache. He yawned and stretched again. Something was different. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but something was different. It was coming back to him--he had a virus. That's why he felt so lousy, so different. No...the difference had to do with something else. He scratched his head, searching for whatever it was. He shook his head and relieved himself then stared at the package of boxers on the back of the toilet. He shed the pair he was wearing and stepped into the shower. A couple of minutes later he climbed back into the bed feeling if not better, at least clean.

He stared at the ceiling. He had been sick. She must have cared for him. Why couldn't he remember what had happened during the night? Why did he feel so relaxed--so comfortable--as if this was his own bed and not Phil's. What was so different? He closed his eyes and a slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He knew what was different...he didn't feel cold--he didn't feel alone--not anymore. The ribbon of darkness that had become such an integral part of his life had loosened its hold on him.

He opened his eyes when he felt Phil's presence beside him. "Why didn't you wait for my help?" She smiled in exasperation. "Your tea," she finally said.

He took the cup from her and downed it. He smiled a smile he had not smiled in over twelve years. He saw the answering smile in her eyes. His smile widened into a yawn.

Phil patted him on the chest. "Get some rest, Ben. We can talk later."

He nodded and closed his eyes but quickly reopened them. "Phil, will you still be here when I wake up?"

Phil smiled, leaned over, and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "Yes..."

He sighed contentedly as he closed his eyes, his hand seeking Phil's. He realized he had finally found that piece of his soul--the piece for which he'd been searching for so long--the piece Victoria had stolen. It felt like the clouds had finally broken and the sun was shinning through. That ribbon of darkness that had enveloped his heart for so many years was gone. Darn but he felt good.

  Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story. Fraser, Vecchio, et.al. belong to Alliance; the McKenzies and friends belong to me; Cat Madden belongs to Carol Trendall and is used with permission. No infringement of any copyrights held by CBS, Alliance, CTV or any other copyright holders of DUE SOUTH is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit.

Lyrics from Ribbon of Darkness by Gordon Lightfoot are used without permission.

Copyright February 1997 by Cassandra Hope

Revised February 2002

Comments are welcome at [email protected]