"Sandy. I knew you'd come in time!" she whispered.
He held her close and hard for a tense moment that gave all his world to his embrace.
"Molly—girl," he said brokenly, his voice broken with passion.
Her hand crept up and a soft palm cupped about his chin. He kissed the edge of it. He rose easily, still holding her and lifted her high to where she could reach the vine, swinging up after her, Grit dancing a three-legged reel of joy as they came up into the free air and the moonlight.
Blaze greeted them in the corral. Molly mounted, and Sandy set Grit on the saddle in front of her.
He told her.
"I figger Sam an' the boys'll be erlong soon," he said. "They may meet up with Pronto. Anyway, they'll likely bring Goldie fo' me. She's up. An' Pronto'll be too tired fo' what I want him to do ter-night."
She sensed the change in his voice, intuitively guessed but, womanlike, asked:
"What do you mean, Sandy? Aren't you coming home with me to Three Star. If it wasn't so far I'd love to go back just like this, without meeting anybody." She had taken off Sandy's Stetson and she ran fingers through his hair, thrilling him to the intimacy of the caress. But, if there was any plan in her actions, it did not deter him from his.