"I came to see my husband," she answered, and for a moment they stared hard at one another, Bayard, as though he did not believe her, and the woman, as if conscious that he questioned the truth of her reply. Also, as if she feared he might read in her the whole truth.
"He ought to be back soon," the rancher said, replacing his hat. "He's off for a ride. Won't you come into the house?"
They stepped outside. He saw that behind her saddle a bundle was tied. He looked from it to her inquiringly.
"I have thought it all over," she said, as if he had challenged her with words, "and I've made up my mind that my place, for the time, anyhow, is with Ned. It's best for me to be here; it's best for Ned to know and have it over with.... Have a complete understanding."
He looked away from her, failing to mark the significance of her last words or to see the fresh determination in her face.
"It had to come sometime. I expect now's about as likely a day as any," he said, gloomily, and untied the roll from her saddle. "I'll show you around th' house so you'll know where things are,"—and started across toward the shade of the ash tree.
Ann walked beside him, wanting to speak, not knowing what to say. She found no words at all, until they gained the kitchen and stood within. Bayard placed her bundle on the table.
"Do you mean that you won't be here?" she faltered.
"Well, that's th' best way," he said, looking down and rubbing the back of a chair thoughtfully.
"I can't...."