"The pin? Of course. A genuine nugget! You were very kind, I'm sure."
"I thought when you and I ride over to the claim, some day, you ought to have a horse of your own," he announced in his manner of finality. "So your horse and outfit are over at Charlie's, at your order."
She looked up at him swiftly. "My horse—over at Charlie's?"
"Yes, Charlie's—the hay-yard. I thought you liked a side-saddle best and I found a good one in the hay."
"But—I haven't any horse," she protested, failing for a moment to grasp his meaning. "How could I have a horse in Goldite?"
"You couldn't help having him—that's all—any more than you can help having me."
The light in his eyes was far too magnetic for her own brown glance to escape. She hardly knew what she was saying, or what she was thinking. She was simply aflame with happiness in his presence—and she feared he must read it in her glance. That the horse was his gift she comprehended all at once—but—what had he said—what was it he had said, that she must answer? Her heart and her mind had coalesced. There was love in both and little of reason in either. She knew he was holding her eyes to his with the sheer force of overwhelming love.
She tried to escape.
"You—mean——-"
He broke all control like a whirlwind.