“Stop!” he called, sharply. “Keep away. Why don’t you obey me? Why don’t you go back to the valley?”
“Because I will not leave you alone—I can’t! Please let me stay!”
“I beg of you go back.”
The roar of the stream made it necessary to speak loudly, and he could not put into his voice the tenderness he felt at the moment, but his face was knotted with pain as he asked: “Don’t you see you add to my uneasiness—my pain?”
“We’re so anxious about you,” she answered. “It seems as though we should be doing something to help you.”
He understood, and was grateful for the tenderness which brought her so near to him, but he was forced to be stern.
“There is nothing you can do—nothing more than you are doing. It helps me to know that you are there, but you must not cross the bridge. Please go back!” There was pleading as well as command in his voice, and with a realization of the passion his voice conveyed, she retraced her steps, her heart beating quickly with the joy which his words conveyed.
At sunset Redfield returned, bringing with him medicines but no nurse. “Nobody will come up here,” he said. “I reckon Ross is doomed to fight it out alone. The solitude, the long trail, scares the bravest of them away. I tried and tried—no use. Eleanor would have come, of course—demanded to come; but I would not permit that. She commissioned me to bring you both down to the ranch.”
Lee Virginia thanked him, but reiterated her wish to stay until all possible danger to Cavanagh was over.
Redfield crossed the bridge, and laid the medicines down outside the door.