She smiled. “I believe you. I think I’m learning how to separate the wheat from the chaff.”
That made Call grin. “Good for you.” One of the mares wandered over. She nudged Laurel first, nearly unseating her. Call pushed her nose aside and began stroking it, giving her the attention she wanted. “Hey,” he said softly. “Hey there, girl. You only had to ask. No pushing.” He looked up at Laurel. “Are you all right? Steady up there?”
“I’m fine.” She reached out and patted the mare’s neck. “I’ve occupied too much of your time. I think she’s jealous.”
“Are you, girl?” asked Call. “Are you jealous?”
The mare tossed her head as though she understood.
“I think you’re right, Laurel.” His hand stilled on the mare’s nose. He’d spoken without thinking, spoken her name in the manner he always thought of it when he thought of her. “Miss Morrison.”
Laurel lowered her hand to the rail to steady herself for the second time in the matter of a minute. She’d come closer to being unseated by hearing her name than when the mare had nudged her. It would amuse her later, in private, but just now it was too important to let it go without comment.
“I don’t mind if you call me Laurel when we’re alone,” she said. “But it would set a poor example if you were todo it in front of the others. I gave Rooster leave to use it a long time ago and he rarely does. That’s his way. Brady sometimes calls me Laurel Beth because that’s how he first knew me. I still feel twelve when he says it. Hank and Dillon call me Miss Laurel. That’s acceptable, too, but I don’t think I’d like that when it’s just you and me. You’re Call. I’m Laurel. That seems right.”
Call appreciated that there was nothing in her tone that suggested she was conferring a privilege, but he didn’t miss the gravity with which she spoke. This was significant to her. He wondered how many men she’d ever invited to call her Laurel.
“It does seem right,” he said. He gave the mare a final pat and sent her on her way. Call decided against dwelling on the moment when what it called for was kissing her, and not the swift buss on her mouth that he’d managed at the old mine. No, this time he wanted to linger. This kiss should be long and warm and tempting. It should leave her wanting more. He’d whisper her name against her ear and she’d hear the promise in it.
Except for the occasional glance, he had avoided looking at her. It was unexpected that she’d join him at the corral, and not just join him, but climb up the rails and settle contentedly beside him. She only would have been closer if she’d perched on his shoulder. It was just this morning on the way to services that he had been thinking how fine she looked in her mint green gown and how the simplicity of the dress suited her. There were no flounces, no ruffles, no lace trim, and yet the lack of those furbelows did not make it seem less fashionable than what every other woman was wearing. She did not carry a parasol or wear elbow-length gloves. She’d wound a ribbon the same shade as her dress in her coiled hair and was one of the few women in church who did not wear a hat.
He remembered how she pursed her lips in disapproval when she caught him staring at her. It made him smile now. He didn’t have to study her any longer to bring her image easily to mind.
Laurel tapped Call’s shoulder. When he looked up at her, she asked quite sincerely, “Where do you go?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re a thousand miles away. I wonder where you go.”
“Nowhere. That is, nowhere far. Mostly inside my head, I suppose.”
“Inside your head,” she repeated softly. “Do I want to know what goes on in there?”
Call chuckled. “You don’t even want to visit.”
Laurel accepted that, though she didn’t agree. “Since we’re speaking of going places, what about Mr. Pye? I imagine he quite literally could be a thousand miles away.”
“Possibly. If he’s smart, he will be. I’m going to recommend that Mr. Stonechurch put a bounty on him.”
Laurel’s eyebrows lifted. “Why now?”
“Because I’m convinced that he’s the right man.”
“Weren’t you before? It seemed that you were.”
“I came here believing it, but it’s no good if I only find evidence that fits my belief. I realized early on that I had to cast a wider net.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a self-mocking smile. “I’m not much of a fisherman. It took me a while.”
“But you’re charged with finding him. Does that mean you’re giving up?”
“No. Not at all, but I could use some help. Bringing in Josey Pye isn’t the same as finding the payroll. The payroll is what is important to Ramsey Stonechurch.”
“Won’t the one lead you to the other?”
“Maybe.”
“What if he’s spent the money?”
Call shrugged. “If he’s spent that much, then he’s already called attention to himself. It’s hard to imagine a place he could hide throwing around that much money. It would be a good outcome for Mr. Stonechurch if Pye was smarter than that.”
