Gideon shook his head. “The fact of it is, I didn’t really have a chance. I had her alone, like I said, but she didn’t give in easy, wouldn’t let me walk with her a spell. I had no opportunity to get her out of sight of the street. I took her for a woman who’d make a fuss before I got her quiet. Besides, we talked about it. It wasn’t the plan. Maybe nothing will come of it, but I like to think I’m bedevilin’ Morgan.”
Avery Butterfield took a card for himself. His rawboned features remained impassive. “We’re not long for this snow, Gideon. No reason you can’t get back to Bitter Springs soon. Take a room at that boardinghouse like you planned and get a better look at what really interests you.”
Leaning back in his chair, Gideon nodded slowly. “Waiting’s never been what you’d call my strong suit. And I’ve already had a look at what interests me. Morgan’s different that way. Real patient. I remember how he worked on my daddy’s safe after Zetta Lee gave up. She was crazy mad to get into it. She was fixin’ to dynamite the thing when Morgan stepped in. I think he forgot all about the rest of us standing around while he worked. I never saw the like before, and when he opened that door” —Gideon whistled softly, admiringly— “that was something. Sure put a lot of ideas in Zetta Lee’s head.”
Marcie asked, “What was in the safe?”
“Cash money. Homestead papers from the land office. A couple of pieces of jewelry that belonged to my daddy’s mother and a locket that was Ma’s. The money was enough to keep us going for a while, and we had a clear title to the land, but Zetta Lee got it in her head that we could do better than cattle ranching, especially in the lean times.”
“And you did,” said Dixon.
Gideon shrugged. “We did all right. For a time. Problem was, Morgan didn’t see the advantages same way the rest of us did, and we needed him for the safes.”
“He really has the touch?” asked Avery. “I’ve heard that some people do, but I’ve never seen it.”
“Could be you’ll get the chance. What he can do with a safe is elegant. Always did prefer it to blowin’ the damn thing up.” He smiled narrowly. “’Course that’s kinda fun, too.”
Jane leaned forward in her saddle and patted Sophie’s neck. The mare tossed her head and preened. “Yes,” Jane cooed. “You are such a pretty lady.”
Morgan chuckled. He was riding Condor, a chestnut gelding who had no interest in Sophie’s flirting but liked to nuzzle Jane when Morgan let him get close. He supposed it was because Jane had been baking oatmeal cookies before he suggested they ride out to Blue Valley.
“This must be the most glorious place on earth,” she said, twisting right and left to take in as much of the panoramic view as she could. Snow blanketed the landscape. It defined the skeletal limbs of the cottonwood and maple trees, and lay in thick folds along banks of the stream. It frosted the pines until their branches sagged under the weight. The Herefords congregated around green circles where they had pushed away or trampled the snow. Ice in the basin had been chipped away to allow them to enjoy their favorite watering hole.
The sky was halcyon blue. The wind was not stirring, and an icy glaze across hill and valley reflected the sunshine.
Jane was smiling contentedly when she looked in Morgan’s direction. “How did you find Morning Star?”
“Ida Mae told me about it.”
“Mrs. Sterling? Really?”
“She heard that the eastern syndicate wanted to sell, and she knew I wanted to settle. The first time she wrote to me, it was to tell me that Benton was dead. I wrote back, expressed my sorrow, and I thought that would be the end of it. She wrote again, and I answered, and we fell into an easy correspondence that lasted until I came to Bitter Springs.”
“She never mentioned that.”
“No,” said Morgan. “She wouldn’t. She figures things like that are for me to say.”
“Does she know about Zetta Lee?”
“Calls her Jezebel, so yes, she knows some things about her.” He shook his head, pointing to himself when Jane arched an eyebrow. “Benton. I don’t know precisely what she knows, and I have no intention of asking her. Neither should you.”
“I wish you did not believe you had to say that. I suppose I have given you reason to think I might speak to her on any subject concerning you, but I would never speak about that, Morgan. I would never.”
He looked out over the valley. “I’m still getting used to the idea that you know.”
“Are there things I don’t know?”
“About Zetta Lee?”
“No. I don’t care about her. I’m talking about you. Are there things I don’t know?”
“Yeah.”
“If you had answered differently, I might have called you a liar.”
“I figured as much. Is there something in particular you’re wanting to know?”
“Actually, yes. I’ve been thinking about all the talk at breakfast a few mornings back.”
