The sun shone brightly through the pink pleats covering the glass windowpanes. Julia groaned at the light, pulling the covers over her head, burying her face deeper into her pillow. It was barely six o'clock in the morning and already proving to be a dreadful day. Soon her mother would knock on the door, just as she had when she was late getting up as a child. The only difference was, it wasn’t a school day. Even the prospect of a day with Mrs. Hodgeworth would have been preferable to what lay ahead for her.

Slowly, she surrendered in defeat, throwing back the blankets and sat up. It would be best if she were ready when her mother awoke, or at the very least, dressed. She rubbed her red swollen eyes with the heel of her palms, swinging her legs off the side of the bed. She stretched her arms above her head and groaned as her sore muscles pulled across her shoulders and neck. Leaving the warmth of her bed, she padded barefoot across the soft pink carpet to her private wash closet.

Bridget had been in a short time ago, filling the tub with hot water and scented oils, laying out her expensive lavender soap and a soft towel. Julia slipped out of her nightgown with a shiver, more from anticipation than the morning chill, and stepped into the tub, sinking beneath the surface. The hot water stung her tender flesh and smelled like a pool of steaming flowers, easing her torment and anxieties to a tolerable degree.

She drew a deep breath, sinking beneath the water, allowing it to momentarily engulf her in its warmth. Memories began to filter back into her mind, threatening to take over her serenity and awake the grief and tears that had been her soulmate the last few days. With a shake of her head to block the images from taking hold again, she vigorously scrubbed her legs and arms then washed her hair and stood up out of the water, wiping the scented moisture from her face. She stepped back into the chilly room, squeezing the water from her long dark tresses with the thick towel before wrapping it around her delicate frame and padding her way back into her pink room.

She stood in front of the mirror next to her wardrobe, staring into the reflection of her swollen hazel eyes. She was going to have to face this, regardless of how much she wanted to cover her head and run. She felt like Anne Boleyn being led to the gallows, reluctant to meet the executioner who would lower his ax and erase her life, yet bravely facing each step with determination and dignity.

Her black crimson gown lay across the back of the chair between her vanity and bed like a shroud, respectable for mourning. She pulled on her stockings and slid into her chemise and bloomers, followed by the corset she despised, the heavy petticoat, and finally the gown itself. Complete with a pair of black slippers, she looked as beautiful and unshakable as Victor Turner would have preferred his only daughter to appear. If she hadn’t known the turmoil churning inside her stomach, she would have believed the image staring back at her from the reflective surface of her full-length mirror, was full of confidence and unwavering sophistication.

Julia sat down at her vanity and applied a light dusting of powder to her ivory complexion, nothing extravagant, she told herself, just a hint of normalcy. She tugged her brush through the length of damp dark hair, trying to straighten out the mess her bath had made of it. It always took so long to style her hair that she rarely bothered with anything more than a bun or hair combs to hold it back off her face, sometimes even an occasional braid. She had often considered cutting it as some of her friends in Boston were doing but never did. She liked its length, and in truth, she felt it was her best asset.

As she tied a black ribbon around the thick layer of hair at the nape of her neck, a knock sounded on the door. Anticipating her mother, she merely replied to the door being unlocked and continued with what she was doing. As the door cautiously pushed open, the dark head of her younger brother poked around the corner.

"Make sure you're decent," he teased her, through the narrow opening. "I'm too old to see my sister naked."

Julia laughed rushing to the door and pulling it open wider, unaware the young man had been leaning against it. He stumbled into the room and right into his sister's waiting arms, laughing as he hugged her to him.

"Jeremy, you clumsy nut," she laughed, returning his embrace.

"You do know how to make men fall for you, sis," he teased, as they sat together on the edge of the bed holding hands.

"When did you get home?" she asked him, hoping to avoid the subject of what brought him back.

"About three this morning, I came as soon as I got Mother’s telegram. Why didn't someone contact me sooner? I would have been here, perhaps I could have helped or done something."

Julia shook her dark head, sadly.

"There was nothing you could have done. Father had been ill for several years. I guess it was only a matter of time."

"Mother told me about him leaving you the stables in his will," he said, mixed emotions echoed through his words. "If I can help I will, but you should know I'm getting married once school is finished, and I don't want to live in Father's shadow. I don't want to become so obsessed with work I lose sight of my life and my family. He was a good man, for the most part, I suppose, maybe even a good husband, but as a father, he left a lot to be desired. I don't want my children growing up without theirs the way we did, never seeing their father, never knowing whether he'd be there for your birthday or Christmas. Never knowing who came first, his damn horses or you."

Jeremy stood and walked to the open door leading to the veranda. His hands thrust deep in his pockets, his back to his sister.

"How do you say goodbye to a man you barely knew?" he whispered in the stillness of the room.

"I'm sorry Jeremy," she answered, feeling the same agonizing pain she knew her younger brother was suffering. "I just wish I could say something to make it all right."

"I don't think there's anything to say that would set things right."

Jeremy paused looking out the door to the morning light. Grief and years of resentment thrust themselves upon him, making him stagger mentally from its force.

"You know," he began, his tone strong with youthful determination and pride, as he spoke to the door's frame. "I've spent my whole life trying to make the name Turner something I could be proud of. I wanted to come back and show the old man that I didn't need his damn money to succeed. I swore a long time ago, I'd never be like him. My family would come first, above all else. My wife and kids would know I loved them. They'd never wonder where I spent my nights."

"Jeremy, don't do this to yourself. Father's dead, and for all he did, good or bad, he did love us, all of us."

"Not me. I knew him too well. He could never deceive me after I learned what he was really like." Jeremy turned, confronting his sister with grieving eyes. "I don't want anything to do with this land, and I especially don't want to see you become his grave mate."

"I don't particularly want to turn out that way either, but I gave my word. I can't deny him now that he's dead. This ranch was his life and now it's mine, for better or for worse."

"Aw, Jules, you're letting him do the one thing you swore you never would. He's planned your whole future for you, just as he always intended to. Your future is over, your life is a mirror of his." Julia frowned, sitting down at her vanity again. She pulled the ribbon from her hair and absently began brushing it again.

"So, who is this girl you plan on taking advantage of?"

She wanted to change the subject and ignore the thoughts that her brother was right, and their father had indeed planned the events of her current life.

"Her name is Malinda Stevens," he began eager emotion ringing through his voice. "She's eighteen, blonde hair, blue eyes. About your height and weight, but not quite as well developed," he teased, taking into account his sister's physical attributes. "She reminds me an awful lot of you, too, her personality, her incredible outlook on life, that sort of thing. But she's not as outspoken as you are."

"Oh, yeah, sure," she answered him, in mocking tones. "We sound like twins."

The next hour flew by with Jeremy telling his sister about the woman he planned to marry and comparing the two openly. He was transfixed on his fiancée, talking about her with a distant look in his eyes. Julia listened intently, feeling the pangs of jealousy rising to the surface. He had found someone to love, but she was still looking. She was beginning to think she'd never find the kind of man she had dreamed of as a child. One who was kind and loving, passionate, and romantic. It was a dream that had died with Heather. A dream only the two of them could understand.

Julia was laughing over some ridiculous joke Jeremy had told her when they entered the formal dining room of the family's ranch-style mansion. She caught sight of the turquoise eyes almost at once after crossing the threshold, and her heart seemed to skip a beat. Daniel was very distinguished in his tailored morning suit, and the mere sight of him made her blush.

Jeremy noticed his sister's sudden distraction. Turning to see what had caused it, he glanced at the man who eyed him suspiciously. They shook hands in greeting, as Louise introduced the two. Julia felt weak and unable to move until her brother nudged her into the chair across from the man.

Bridget served their breakfast as Julia struggled to regain her composure. Large platters of food were set in front of them, on the long-polished table, along with fresh milk and lemonade. Bridget glanced at Daniel and smiled a silent invitation to him, as she bent over in front of him, setting the pitcher of cream on the table. He returned her smile with his usual polite poise before glancing back at Julia, noting the disapproving gleam in her green eyes. The invitation had been there from the maid since he first stepped through the front door, but he had never accepted it.

Out of consideration to Victor, as well as his standing in the town’s hub of higher taxpayers, he felt it was best to remember his position. Besides, gossip was a ruthless knife in the back of a man wanting to appear professional and trustworthy, not something he was willing to participate in.

The thought of that disapproving look from the woman across him, however, being something more along the lines of jealousy, made his smile widen to reveal the soft dimple in his left cheek. He winked seductively at her, before turning his attention to the young man seated to his left.

"Daniel Browning," Jeremy said, repeating the man's name again. "Now, where have I heard that name before?"

"Mr. Browning was Father's legal advisor for the Stables," Julia clarified, trying to ignore the challenging look he offered her at the use of his surname.

An instant reminder of the reward for using his first name came with a flood of color to her ivory cheeks. It was very unsettling to have this man in the same room with her, yet she found herself becoming quite used to him hanging around. He'd been there so often over the past few days, he seemed to blend into the woodwork.

"No, it's something else," her brother commented.

The room was quiet as Jeremy poured maple syrup over his entire breakfast of hotcakes, potatoes, eggs, and bacon - a habit from his childhood he obviously hadn't outgrown. The three other occupants at the table watched with disgusted amusement as the younger man began to devour his concoction.

"I know what it is," he said, licking the syrup from his fork. "You're the guy who wrote that paper on the legalities of contract law and how they would affect the future workings of the legal profession. I must have read your article a hundred times, and every time I do I get something new out of it."

"I wasn't aware you were studying law?" Daniel sipped on his coffee, pushing his untouched plate aside.

"Oh, I'm not, but my girlfriend's brother is. He let me read some of his work and in it was an essay on your paper. I couldn't understand what he was talking about and it made me curious, so I got a copy of your article and read through it. I was so impressed I kept the article for my own personal reference. I'm majoring in business, but your paper helped me out quite a bit."

"I'm glad to hear my opinion made such an impact on you. You know, your degree will come in handy here at the stables," Daniel commented, causing Jeremy to shrug his shoulders lightly, still eating the mess he'd made on his plate.

"The ranch is Julia's now, Mr. Browning. I'm not sure if she wants my help, or even if she needs it."

"I know she's determined enough to try it alone, but she will need help - quite a bit of it - and the name is Daniel. I'm getting a little tired of the title, Mr. Browning. It seems to be Julia's favorite phrase."

"Don't take my sister too seriously, Daniel. She gets her snobbish attitude from Mother's Italian blood. Her stubbornness has its appealing side too, wouldn't you say?" Jeremy asked, with a chuckle.

"Will you two quit referring to me, as though I'm not here?" demanded Julia, irritation sparking within her emerald eyes.

"Like you said, stubborn," Daniel commented, unaffected by her outburst - as usual.

"Takes after Father, in that case," her brother added, with amusement as he drank down half his glass of milk in one swallow.

"I noticed your father did have a temper at times, didn't he? Much as his daughter does."

"Don't you have something better to do, Mr. Browning, like finding a cliff to jump off?"

Daniel and Jeremy both broke into laughter at the woman's display of irritation, joined quickly by a joyous throaty sound from Louise, who had remained quiet as she enjoyed the conversation of the three younger people.

"What are your designs for the future, Jeremy, if you don’t plan on using your degree here at Turner Stables?" Daniel asked, after a moment.

"I haven't thought that far ahead. I just want to get my marriage over with before I make any long-term plans."

"You make it sound like a curse or an obligation," his sister tried to tease, irritation still etching her delicate features.

"Jeremy Victor!" Louise snapped at her son, while visions began to dance before her maternal eyes. "Did this girl get you in trouble?"

"Mother!" he exclaimed, in a voice near cracking.

He looked like a schoolboy caught in the hayloft with the squire's daughter. Julia tried hard not to laugh but found the boy's awkward situation amusing, nevertheless.

"I'm not in trouble. Malinda isn't like that. She would never...I mean we haven't...that is she wouldn't...for God's sake Mother, her father’s a tobacco farmer from Virginia!"

"You're really being quite unfair Mother," Julia added, coming to her brother's aid. "I'm sure if Jeremy were in trouble, they would be getting married long before next June."

"Thank you." Jeremy’s embarrassment was vivid on his young features. So much so, that Julia couldn't fight the urge to harass him just a little more, out of revenge.

"Of course," she added, winking at her mother, "it is rather difficult to defend a girl's honor when we've never actually met her. For all we know, they could already be married, with a couple of little red-faced Turners running around."

"That's true," Louise remarked, joining in on the fun. "I've heard stories about these innocent little farm girls. Haylofts, tractors, why I even heard once of this girl and her farmhand who had taken full advantage of the horse they were riding. Seems all they really had to do was..."

"I surrender!" Jeremy shouted, putting a stop to Louise's tales of perverted gossip. "I'll bring Malinda out for your personal inspection in a few weeks. Will that keep you two off my back?"

"It will do for the time being," Louise nodded gently.

"You're a fine piece of help, Julia Dennese,"

Jeremy's use of his sister's full name brought a snarl to her delicate features and a choke from Daniel, who had been trying to consume his coffee in silence.

"Your name is Julia Dennese?" he asked, with a wide grin as he wiped up the coffee he'd spilled on the table in front of him.

Julia narrowed her stare at her brother who looked triumphant.

"What's wrong with my name?" she turned to Daniel, her eyes sparkling visual daggers.

"Oh nothing, I suppose, you just don't look like a Dennese. Myrtle, or Gertrude, perhaps."

“It’s better than that,” Jeremy added with a large grin as he nudged the man’s elbow. “Dennese is actually a combination of seven names. Our parents couldn’t decide on a middle name, so rather than give her a multitude of names, they chose the first initials of everyone they wanted her named after.”

“What were the seven names?” Daniel asked, smiling brighter as he began to imagine the worse.

“The D is for Dorothy, who was our maternal grandmother,” Jeremy continued, watching the color grow darker on his sister’s already irritated face. “The E is for our other grandmother, Edith. The two Ns are for our great grandmothers, Nancy and Nellie, the second E is for Evelyn, who was mom’s best friend growing up. The S is for Savannah, who was dad’s cousin, she died when she was four, and the last E was for Emma, who was an old slave dad had for years. She was the first slave he freed after the Civil War. Emma helped birth Julia and stayed here until she died just after I was born. So, you have it. D-E-N-N-E-S-E. Dennese.”

“And I thought we British had a lot of names,” Daniel laughed, glancing back to the woman across from him.

"I suppose your name suits you better than mine suits me?" Julia asked with an angry frown.

"Not really," he commented, smiling at her irritation.

"What is it? No, let me guess, Rudolph, or how about Hampton? I know, it's Mortimer, right?"

It was Daniel's turn to growl as Julia nearly choked on her laughter.

"If you must know, I have several names as well. I was named after my father and grandfathers, Daniel Underwood Charles Kent."

"DUCK?" she barked in a hooting laughter. “Funny, you don’t look like a duck to me, perhaps more of goose or a donkey.”

Daniel's wicked smile caressed the woman, a seductive gleam in his turquoise eyes twinkled back at her so intent, that she felt as though she were suddenly stripped naked in front of him. He was surprised at how much pleasure he derived from her teasing, just like old friends - or hopeful lovers.

"At least it's better than, Mr. Browning."

The rest of the meal was spent with Louise reluctantly telling of the arrangements for the funeral services and the luncheon afterward. Victor had wanted a very simple event with little fuss. A viewing was held last night for business associates, while the service today remained exclusively for close friends and family members only. A wake would be offered at the stables afterward with Daniel's partner, Harold Leonard, reading the will in a few days when things settled down.

The room had taken on a depressing feel by the time the older woman had finished speaking. The urgency to recapture the old air of contentment seemed to be an all-consuming task. Jeremy looked across the large oak table to his sister, who had pushed her plate aside during the conversation, her meal barely touched and only half her glass of milk drank.

"Are you planning on going back to Boston soon, Julia?" he asked, hoping to change the subject as far from their father as possible.

Julia frowned slightly and tried to keep her voice level.

"I did plan on returning next week, but things have changed since then."

"You're not seriously going to consider Father's request and stay on here, are you? I thought you were going to sell this monster and get on with your own life."

"Jeremy, please," Julia insisted, her tone firm and filled with warning. "I've made up my mind and I've given my word. I don't want to hear anything further on the subject." Jeremy grunted his disapproval but agreed to keep quiet - at least for now.

Daniel continued to watch Julia after that. He knew, once she heard her father's will, her attitude would change toward him. He was certain she would try and sell her half of the stables and leave Kentucky. This fact was very unsettling to him. A few weeks ago, he would have willingly jumped at the chance to get rid of the Turner Brats, as he had grown to call them, but now he couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing the dark-haired beauty every day.

He didn't want her to leave, but the reason why exactly, he couldn't even begin to understand. He didn't know what was happening to him or how this young woman had turned his life so completely inside out, but he was determined to use whatever measures he found necessary to keep her in Kentucky.

The funeral service was simple, just as Louise had promised. There were around a hundred or so aunts, uncles, and assorted cousins in attendance and nearly as many friends, all of whom had been made over the length of a lifetime. The small-town church was crowded to the seams, the pews were filled and anointed by tears, sobs, and hopes of a place in Victor Turner’s will.

Since Victor was never much on weekly church services, insisting that the ranch couldn’t survive a day without him, the minister was in his everyday clothes rather than his Sunday attire, a request from the deceased himself. There were none of the normal, he was a good man, or he'll be deeply missed dialogue as with most of the funerals Julia remembered. Instead, the minister said a prayer for the family to have strength and comfort along with a few words about death being the beginning and not the end, and then afterward he gave the mourners a few minutes to reflect on Victor in their own way.

Several told amusing stories of the man as a young boy, while others mentioned the regret they would live with for not making amends with him over something that had happened long ago. Memories were shared from an elderly uncle about the seven-year-old boy who had climbed on top of the roof of the hen house and jumped off to teach the chickens to fly, breaking a leg and wrist in the process.

Julia and Jeremy listened, laughed when appropriate, and wiped away several stray tears from their eyes, while Louise held a sculptured expression on her aging face, a black veil hiding dark circled eyes from many long tear-filled nights. She sat between her two children, while Daniel sat next to Julia. Occasionally, he would place a warm hand on top of hers only to have her move away, but it didn’t stop him from offering his support when he felt it necessary. A few times, it would take several seconds before Julia moved her hand away, offering him the briefest hope of friendship with the woman, though very brief it was. He could only sit and wait, expecting the events he knew would pull her completely from his life, once the contents of the will were revealed.

The service was concluded with another prayer, again for strength and comfort, asking God to accept Victor into his kingdom and forgive him of any past sins, and then they were asked to adjourn to the cemetery.

Julia watched quietly as the pall-bearers lowered Victor's casket into the open ground. It was at that moment she realized how complete and final her father's life was. So much time wasted, so many lost dreams and regrets made her feel sorrowful and empty deep inside. She really didn’t want to be his grave mate as Jeremy had termed it.

A warm hand on the small of her back brought her back to the present and she realized the minister was asking her to lay a rose in the grave with Victor, as a token of his family’s love. She was the eldest child and therefore traditionally responsible to represent her mother.

Glancing up, Julia searched the mourners for courage and found only a river of tears. Her mother wiped the moisture from her eyes, while Jeremy lowered his head, hiding the tears threatening his own composure. She felt guilty for not crying, but she was certain she had no tears left to offer. She had shed so many of them over the past few days, while she fought to keep control over the arrangements, she felt dry and tired.

Julia felt suddenly dizzy as she looked at the rose the minister handed to her, realizing it was Daniel who had taken the flower from the clergyman. His arm gently supported her as she moved closer to the grave’s hole, her legs shaking beneath her. Her finger pricked on a thorn from the flower’s stem as Daniel handed it off to her, and she looked down at the casket as a drop of blood fell to the closed lid. It was morbidly ironic, she was his grave mate after all.

Daniel's arm remained around her slender waist, supporting her with the warmth and comfort of his strength, and somehow, she felt protected. Julia gently tossed the red rose in on the brown top of the sealed coffin, watching it land next to the dried blood. She stared down in the grave and found the tears she swore she no longer had, flooding her eyes. She drew a deep breath to steady her anguish but felt the lump in her throat constricting with unshed sobs.

"Goodbye Daddy," she whispered against the pain in her heart and burning in her throat.

The little girl inside her bid her farewells to a man whom she had grown to worship and admire, the man who taught her to ride her first horse and to love life for all it was worth, was taken away in a breath of time, leaving only the memories behind to offer as comfort. Her voice caught in her throat and her stomach knotted with grief.

"It’s alright," Daniel whispered near her ear.

A few moments later Julia found a line of mourners gathered in front of her bidding her farewell, asking how she was holding up and wishing her their best. Nobody seemed to notice that Daniel still had his arm wrapped around her waist, but she didn’t bother to discourage him either. Right now, his embrace was exactly what she needed to hold herself together, as she nodded at those passing in front of her.

"I'll see to the carriage," Jeremy whispered.

She blinked slowly, bringing herself out of her oblivion and a little closer to Earth. Another blink and she could make out the woman standing in front of her. Two more tight blinks of her eyes and Julia could even respond without sounding like a babbling idiot.

“We'd better get back to the ranch," Daniel suggested gently. "You're expecting an awful lot of people this afternoon."

Julia nodded, falling into step beside him, his arm wrapping securely around her shoulders. She looked across the headstones as they walked toward the waiting carriage. So many graves in the small cemetery, some she recognized, while others she had only heard of over the years. Her grandparents were buried here, so were two of her uncles and even Heather Farnsworth, her best friend from childhood. So many lives taken with no more than a whispered memory of what once was, and a prayer to guide them through the next life.

She looked up at the dirt road beyond the worn picket fence and could see the carriages filled with mourners, slowly pulling away from the cemetery gates. She glanced back to her father's grave, life suddenly became painfully clear. From birth to life, from life to death, with nothing more to show for what had existed than a name on a headstone. She felt the urge to escape the realization shining down on her, she wanted to run and hide so far away from all of this that she would never be found again.

Julia continued to walk, fighting her legs with every step. She could see her mother, climbing into her Uncle Roger's carriage, Jeremy standing beside it speaking quietly with her. The dark blue curtains drew closed as Jeremy shut the door securely, stepping back as it drove away.

There were two men in black and the minister, all walking toward their own carriages and a woman standing away from the rest of the mourners, as though she hadn't really been a part of the service. Her black dress made Julia think she had been there for the funeral, yet she stood alone like an outcast at a society ball. Julia frowned as she focused on the woman, her face well hidden beneath a dark veil. Somehow, she felt certain the woman was watching her, not the departing mourners, but her specifically. She stopped abruptly, her gaze fixed on the woman in black, unable to pry her eyes away. Daniel came to a halt next to her and glanced in the direction of Julia's interest.

"Who's that? Do you know her?" he asked, glancing back to the brunette beside him.

Julia shook her head. Without seeing her face, she couldn't tell for certain who it was, yet she was positive they knew each other. If only she could see...the woman turned and walked away at a slow, steady pace, disappearing between the rows of buggies.

"Julia?" Daniel asked, bringing her attention back to him. "I think we should get you home. You can rest before the wake."

She nodded lightly and turned back to their original course. A nap sounded good, a long restful sleep with no thoughts, no worries, no dreams, or fears for the future.