It struck Baird that Edward's entire manner was anxious and concerned. That he had looked keenly and anxiously at Ann as he had approached. He had been brief enough over their business transaction that morning, as if he had far more important matters on his mind.
"I reckon I shouldn't," Ann agreed. "I'll see how he behaves when the train comes."
"That's reckless. I wish you wouldn't do such things."
Baird was surprised at the intimacy the remark implied. Were both brothers in love with her? If one judged from appearances, Ann favored Edward.... Or was she simply a born coquette? She was certainly enough to turn any man's head, and an infatuation on Garvin's part was natural, he was that sort; but Edward Westmore?
"I won't any more," Ann promised with pretty submission.
Though he looked at Ann, Edward's next speech was directed to Baird. "I was at the club about an hour ago—I went by the Back Road and left some papers for you, Baird. You can look them over and bring them to Westmore this evening—that is if you thought of coming over."
It was a reminder of Judith, though Baird knew Edward did not intend it as such; that would be too unlike him. "Yes, I am coming after dinner," Baird said gravely.
Ann knew just what Edward intended; she saw it in his eyes—that he had left a book for her—and she answered his look.
"There is the train," Edward said warningly. "Be careful, Ann." He brought his horse closer to her. "Keep your eye on the horse, Baird."
Ann sat taut, reins well held, and her eyes watchful. The train had whistled at the junction, and the next moment it roared along below them, making the usual racket as it slowed up, and it was quite plain that Ann's horse was not trustworthy. He quivered, backed and plunged and showed all the signs of fright.