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Nora felt stiff all over as she stared at him with fever-bright eyes.  You never spoke of your family to
me, or of taking me to meet them& 
He lifted cold eyes to hers.  It would never occur to me! Do you think I would take you to my mother,
and allow you to shame her for doing her own housework and cooking let you look down your
haughty nose at her? Our marriage was the worst mistake of my life. I have no desire to advertise it to
my people!
She was so taken aback that she couldn t speak. He was& ashamed of her! The blood drained out of
her face. He was so ashamed of her that he couldn t bear to introduce her to his family. It was the
worst blow of all.
He didn t look at her again. He left her on the porch of the cabin to get into the carriage with the man
who was driving him to the station. Nora watched them down the road and wondered without much
interest if the man had overheard the argument.
With a cry of distress, she went inside and threw herself across the freshly made bed to sob her heart
out. If only she felt a little better, if only her face and throat did not burn so. She turned her face in to
the cool pillow and thought how very nice it felt. Later, when she got up, she could worry about the
ruin of her marriage and what she could do. She closed her eyes just for a minute and lapsed into a
feverish sleep.
BRUCE LANGHORN WAS THE LAST student left in Melly s small art class in Tyler Junction that
evening. She held the class in the school, with special permission of the school board, and usually the
children s parents were right on time to pick them up. But Bruce was still waiting for his father, and it
was almost dark. If she didn t take Bruce home to his father now, she would be caught on the road in
the dark a particularly undesirable situation for a lone young woman. Her father would be furious.
He might even make her give up the class. Not for all the world would she admit that one of her
greatest joys was the glimpse she got of Mr. Langhorn when he came to get Bruce each evening.
She took Bruce out to his father s ranch, watching the darkening sky with worried eyes.
 I don t know where my dad could be, Bruce said worriedly.  He s just never late.
 I know, dear, Melly said with a smile.  It s all right. Really. I don t mind dropping you by your
home.
He grimaced.  I hope she s not there.
 Mrs. Terrell?
The expression in her voice ticked him.  She doesn t come alone, he said with a sidelong glance.
 She comes with her aunt. It s all proper.
 That s none of my business, she said with pretended calm.
 Sure.
There was a light on in the house when Melly pulled the buggy up at the front porch. It was getting
dark and she was worried about the long ride home. Not for all the world would she admit to herself
that she was also concerned about the absent Mr. Langhorn, who was, as Bruce said, never late. Could
he be ill?
 Hurry inside, now, she said,  and wave if your father is there and everything is all right. I won t get
down.
 All right. Thanks for the ride, Miss Tremayne!
 Of course.
She held the reins tightly, waiting the eternity it took for Bruce to go inside and finally reappear.
He ran to the gate.  It s okay, he fell asleep in his chair, Bruce said, chuckling.  They re fixing
fences and repairing outbuildings. He worked until he dropped, I reckon.
She relaxed.  Good night, then, dear, she said brightly, sensing movement in the house out of the
corner of her eye. Not for worlds did she want to get into a discussion of any sort with his detestable
father. She was still wounded from what Mr. Langhorn had said to her at the dance.
She flipped the reins at the horse s flank and set him into motion.
The darkness swallowed her up. There was a crescent moon, but it shone very little light on the road.
Thank God the road went right by the ranch, and the horse knew the way very well. She should be all
right if there were no desperados lurking& .
The sudden sound of a horse s hooves on the road behind her was loud enough to be heard above the
sound of her own horse s measured trot. The horse behind was galloping. It would catch her.
Her heart raced as she thought about a rash of recent assaults on lone women, and she snapped the
reins again, harder, pushing the horse faster.
There was a curve in the road ahead and she had to slow down for it, which gave her pursuer time to
catch up with the buggy. A pair of long, denim-clad legs in dark boots came into view beside the
buggy and she cried out.
As she tried to urge the poor horse into speed again, a lean hand came out and caught its bridle,
bringing it to a slow, steady halt.
She knew now who her pursuer was, and it didn t help her heartbeat to decrease. He was bareheaded
and angry; she could see it in the economy of movement as he swung his long leg over the saddle and
dropped lithely to the ground beside the buggy.
He swept back his thick, straight hair and glared at her, one lean hand resting on the frame of the
buggy.
 You know better than to run a horse at that speed! he grated.
 Naturally your concern would be for the horse and not my safety alone in the dark, Mr.
Langhorn! she said hotly.
 Why didn t you stop long enough to speak to me? he asked.
 Because, obviously, I had no wish to speak to you, she told him.  Bruce said that you had fallen
asleep in your chair. All I needed to know was that it was safe to leave him before I came away. And it
was.
 I had a long day and I was up most of the night with a sick calf, he said.
 Your advanced age must be catching up with you, she said cattily.
 Damn you!
She caught her breath.  Mr. Langhorn!
His hand tightened on the buggy, and even in the darkness she could see the glitter of his dark eyes on
her.  I have no manners, didn t you know? he taunted.  I am a divorced man, a disgrace in the eyes
of the community. Of course, they neglect to mention that my wife was little more than a harlot, who
ignored her own son and sold her body to buy opium. She gave herself to any man who would pay 
 Please!
 Is it too sordid for your sweet ears, little Miss Purity? he drawled.  Don t you want to know all
about the man you harbor such a secret passion for? Or did you think I didn t know how you worship
me from afar?
She wanted to dig a hole and crawl in it. He made her feel cheap. Not only was he deliberately
insulting, there was a faintly slurred quality about his voice that made her nervous.
 I must go home, she pleaded.  Please move away.
 That isn t what the widow asks me to do, he drawled.  She would do anything I wanted.
 Then do, please, go and permit her to. I wish to go home.
 So do I, but I haven t got a home, he said wearily.  I ve got a house that I break my back to keep up,
a ranch that takes all my time, a son who gets no attention at all because I don t even have time to be a
father. He likes you, he added angrily.  You re all he talks about. Miss Tremayne, his patron saint!
 Oh, Mr. Langhorn, you must& !
 Come out of there, he muttered, lifting his arms to drag her from the carriage and stand her beside
him on the ground.
 The horse will run away, she said quickly. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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