it."
She told him far more with her offer than where he could leave the quilt. She wanted him to know that she wasn't planning on going anywhere, even though he'd once said she could sell the place and start over. This was her home, even if it would never be his.
She jumped up as if she thought she'd stayed too long. "Well, good night."
"Don't you want the Colt?"
She wavered at the door. "No. I trust you." She lifted her chin. "I want to say I'm sorry for claiming you raped me when I came to you in Cottonwood. I'm not always totally honest, even with myself, but I can't lie about that. I gave you no choice that day."
If she were being honest, so could he. "You're wrong, Lacy. I had a choice. I knew what I was doing, and I realized too late that you didn't. I could have stopped. I could have tossed you on that stage, no matter what you demanded." He noticed tears sparkling in her eyes. "I hurt you that day, and that was never my intent."
"Your father truly believed he was doing you a service when he signed your name to the marriage license and bought my freedom. Until the day he died he told me how happy you would be to have me as a wife and how much you needed me, even though you didn't know it yet."
Walker watched her closely. "Knowing the old man, he probably believed his words. It's not because of you I don't want a wife. I don't want any wife."
"I know that now. I figured it out a little too late."
"I'm glad he was good to you and that you were with him in the end. I owe you a great debt for that."
"You owe me nothing, Captain. I loved your father as if he were my own. Every day I spent with him, even to the end, was a blessing. My mother would have said, 'Treasures of time can't be put in the pocket, they have to be stored in the heart.' He gave me his time."
Walker stood and walked closer, not wanting to be a room away when he asked her simply, "Do you think we could start over, maybe even be friends?" He told himself he asked because it would make the next three weeks easier, but deep down he knew that was a lie. He wanted to know Lacy better.
"I've never had someone like you for a friend. I wouldn't know how to act or what to do."
"Someone like me?"
"You know. A man." She frowned. "Duncan and Eli are my friends, but they're also my employees, and I can't talk about anything but the shop with them. Jay Boy is too young, and the sheriff is too old."
Walker understood. "Don't feel so bad. I've never had a woman for a friend. But I think I can handle friendship a little easier than I do being a husband."
She smiled, looking very young. Too young to be his wife. In her shapeless gown and bare feet he could almost see her as a child. Almost.
"When this is over and you go back," she asked, "if we're friends, will you write me?"
"I will. And you'll write me and let me know about everyone in town?" He thought about how he rarely went to mail call. "I'd like hearing from you. Little things, like how the sheriff's doing and what the church ladies are making new. You could even let me know if old Mosely ever takes a bath or how the paper's doing."
"And you could tell me of your travels and what the land looks like. I'd like that."
"Then we'll try friends." He offered his hand.
She placed her hand in his. "Friends."
"Thank you, Lacy. Good night." Before he gave it much thought, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, then turned loose of her fingers. It was a polite kiss like he might have given the wife of a friend, or a farewell to a woman he'd met and danced with at a ball in the capital.
She faded into the dark room, leaving the door open.
Walker turned down the lamp and lay back on his bed.
The snow whirled in the wind, and the storm continued until morning, but at dawn the sun broke clear. Walker woke early and dressed. When Lacy came into the kitchen, he excused himself and went downstairs to allow her more privacy to dress. When he returned with more wood, she already had oatmeal boiling.
"I'll
She told him far more with her offer than where he could leave the quilt. She wanted him to know that she wasn't planning on going anywhere, even though he'd once said she could sell the place and start over. This was her home, even if it would never be his.
She jumped up as if she thought she'd stayed too long. "Well, good night."
"Don't you want the Colt?"
She wavered at the door. "No. I trust you." She lifted her chin. "I want to say I'm sorry for claiming you raped me when I came to you in Cottonwood. I'm not always totally honest, even with myself, but I can't lie about that. I gave you no choice that day."
If she were being honest, so could he. "You're wrong, Lacy. I had a choice. I knew what I was doing, and I realized too late that you didn't. I could have stopped. I could have tossed you on that stage, no matter what you demanded." He noticed tears sparkling in her eyes. "I hurt you that day, and that was never my intent."
"Your father truly believed he was doing you a service when he signed your name to the marriage license and bought my freedom. Until the day he died he told me how happy you would be to have me as a wife and how much you needed me, even though you didn't know it yet."
Walker watched her closely. "Knowing the old man, he probably believed his words. It's not because of you I don't want a wife. I don't want any wife."
"I know that now. I figured it out a little too late."
"I'm glad he was good to you and that you were with him in the end. I owe you a great debt for that."
"You owe me nothing, Captain. I loved your father as if he were my own. Every day I spent with him, even to the end, was a blessing. My mother would have said, 'Treasures of time can't be put in the pocket, they have to be stored in the heart.' He gave me his time."
Walker stood and walked closer, not wanting to be a room away when he asked her simply, "Do you think we could start over, maybe even be friends?" He told himself he asked because it would make the next three weeks easier, but deep down he knew that was a lie. He wanted to know Lacy better.
"I've never had someone like you for a friend. I wouldn't know how to act or what to do."
"Someone like me?"
"You know. A man." She frowned. "Duncan and Eli are my friends, but they're also my employees, and I can't talk about anything but the shop with them. Jay Boy is too young, and the sheriff is too old."
Walker understood. "Don't feel so bad. I've never had a woman for a friend. But I think I can handle friendship a little easier than I do being a husband."
She smiled, looking very young. Too young to be his wife. In her shapeless gown and bare feet he could almost see her as a child. Almost.
"When this is over and you go back," she asked, "if we're friends, will you write me?"
"I will. And you'll write me and let me know about everyone in town?" He thought about how he rarely went to mail call. "I'd like hearing from you. Little things, like how the sheriff's doing and what the church ladies are making new. You could even let me know if old Mosely ever takes a bath or how the paper's doing."
"And you could tell me of your travels and what the land looks like. I'd like that."
"Then we'll try friends." He offered his hand.
She placed her hand in his. "Friends."
"Thank you, Lacy. Good night." Before he gave it much thought, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, then turned loose of her fingers. It was a polite kiss like he might have given the wife of a friend, or a farewell to a woman he'd met and danced with at a ball in the capital.
She faded into the dark room, leaving the door open.
Walker turned down the lamp and lay back on his bed.
The snow whirled in the wind, and the storm continued until morning, but at dawn the sun broke clear. Walker woke early and dressed. When Lacy came into the kitchen, he excused himself and went downstairs to allow her more privacy to dress. When he returned with more wood, she already had oatmeal boiling.
"I'll
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