Dianne almost cheered. “I couldn’t have said it better.” Although, she said it in different ways.
How could Jace continue to resist with Eddie’s eager, tear-stained face looking up at him, Pops shaking his head and giving Jace accusing looks, and Dianne demanding more than the use of the wagon?
Jace continued to stare straight ahead, his jaw set like stone.
Pops slapped the wagon and stalked back to the barn, muttering, “Good thing Chet ain’t alive to see how ya turned out.”
Fingers clenched to the lines, only the twitch in Jace’s cheek indicated he heard.
“You take us?” Eddie pleaded.
A shiver trickled up the length of Jace’s body.
Dianne’s breath stalled as she sensed his struggle.
“Fine.” The word exploded from him. “I’ll take you, and then I have to return this wagon.”
Pops helped Dianne to the seat and Eddie into the back.
Although her heart rejoiced, she did not say anything but “Thanks.”
“Don’t think I’ve changed my mind.”
“Of course not.” But it seemed like a step in the right direction. “Can we stop at the depot for my luggage? I assume they would leave it there.”
They traversed the street until they reached a building with a sign above the door informing them it was the stagecoach office. Her trunk and bags were there, and Jace helped the agent load them into the back.
They left town on a narrow road heading northwest. Finally, she would have her home. Without the man she hoped would be there, but Jace was at her side. As she took in the scenery, marveling at the verdant valleys and sharp rocky hillsides, she continued to pray Jace would reconsider his stubborn decision once they arrived at the ranch.
Only with a competent man, one she trusted, running the place would her home be secure.
“How much farther do we have to go?”
“You’ll soon be there. However, I have a long way to go yet retracing the journey we made yesterday.”
“Must you be so stubborn?”
“I could ask you the same question.” He appeared distracted by something to his left.
She followed the direction he looked. “Are those bulls from your ranch?”
“They’re Chet’s cows from Chet’s ranch.”
“What’s wrong with them?”
“Who says there’s anything wrong?” He kept his attention on the animals.
“I’d say you’re concerned because you haven’t stopped staring. They look perfectly normal to me, but then what do I know about bulls?” She wasn’t above emphasizing that point.
“They’re cows.”
“But they have horns.”
“The female cows have horns too.” Still so distracted, his comment carried no censure for her ignorance.
“Then why are you concerned?”
“Doesn’t it look like there’s blood on that cow’s head?”
