Laurel stirred, rousing herself enough to open one heavily lidded eye and lift her head a fraction above the pillow. Almost immediately, her head sank back. She managed to keep the eye open, though, and that was good enough to see that Call was sitting in the chair and pulling on his boots. The bedside lamp had a fingernail of light at the end of its wick and was on the verge of dying. The curtains were still drawn. Laurel could not make out if it was the middle of the night or if dawn was approaching.
“You’re leaving,” she said drowsily.
“You asked me to.”
“I did, but you didn’t listen to me then.”
“I wasn’t ready. I’m ready now.”
“Oh. All right.”
He chuckled. She was agreeably composed and he decided to appreciate it rather than bring it to her attention.
Reading his mind, Laurel said, “Don’t get used to it.”
Grinning, he stood, covered the distance to the bed in a couple of long strides, and bent so he could kiss her cheek. She turned her head to greet him and they clumsily bumped noses. “Sorry.” He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead when she covered her nose with her palm. “Go back to sleep. You have a few hours yet.”
Laurel dutifully closed her eyes and listened to Call leaving the bedroom. She was asleep before she heard him leave the house.
***
Call expected questions come morning from the brothers, but it was Rooster who cornered him in the barn while they were grooming horses in preparation of the morning stage.
“You came in pretty late last night,” said Rooster. “That’s kinda unusual, ain’t it?”
“Suppose it is. I didn’t think about it except for trying to be quiet. I guess I wasn’t very good at it.”
“No, on the whole you were as stealthy as a thief until you dropped one of your boots. Thumped me right awake.”
“Sorry.” Call continued to run a curry comb over Willow’s back. The mare tossed her head, apparently satisfied with the attention she was getting.
Rooster finished caring for Mary Ann and stepped to the next stall to groom Sylvia. He stroked the white diamond on the mare’s nose. “Yes, you’re a good girl,” he said, showing her the curry brush in his other hand. “I guess finding Josey Pye yesterday probably made it hard to shut your eyes.”
Call straightened and looked at Rooster over Willow’s back. “Are you talking to me?”
“Well, Sylvia here didn’t find Josey Pye, so I musta meant you to hear me.”
“What is it you want to know, Rooster?” Call asked bluntly.
“I’m not going to ask you where you were before you came to the bunkhouse ’cause it ain’t my business and I don’t want to hear a lie even if it’s meant well, so I’m just gonna say that you better treat her right, Call. She deserves that. I’ve never asked myself if she knew what she was doing before, but the question’s come to me now. I figure it’s up to you to make certain she doesn’t have regrets.”
Call wasn’t sure why he felt as if he’d been taken to the woodshed, but he was tempted to check his backside for welts. “What will set your mind at ease?”
“Don’t rightly know. Maybe if you was to move onbefore there’s been too much hurt done, or maybe if you was to go the other way and say you’re staying put after this Josey Pye business is over, I reckon either one of those would ease my mind some.”
“You think I should ease your mind before I ease hers?”
Rooster considered that. “Guess not.”
“Look, Rooster, I appreciate that you want the best for Laurel. You’ve been at her side for a lot of years so it’s natural that you’d be looking out for her whether or not she thinks she needs looking after. I’m telling you that you’re talking to the wrong person. You should be putting your concerns to her.”
Rooster’s jaw went slack and he shook his head emphatically. “You’re plum loco, you know that?”
“Maybe,” Call said carelessly. “And maybe you’re afraid to speak your mind to her. You know, you bear some responsibility for whatever you think is happening between Laurel and me.”
Frowning, Rooster busied himself currying Sylvia. “What do you mean?”
“You recall telling her she was a coward?”
