“Look ther’ yonder. Yonder’s the disaster, yonder is—death. An’ we—we’ve sure passed through it. She’s right. Our love is stronger than disaster—stronger than death.”
Then he turned and gazed ardently into her upturned face. “Guess we sure found that love together, little gal. An’ it’s ours to keep forever an’ ever. Ther’ ain’t no other love comin’ around. I’m yours fer jest so long as I have life, an’ you—wal, you’re jest my whole, whole world.”
He leant toward her, his dark eyes shining with his great love. Reaching out he drew her toward him, his strong, protecting arm encircling her slim waist.
“Say, little gal,” he went on urgingly, “we’re goin’ right on now to Leeson Butte. Ther’s a passon ther’ who can fix us right. An’ when that’s done, an’ ther’ ain’t nuthin’ in the world can come between us, why, then I sure got two mighty strong hands yearnin’ to git busy handin’ you those things which can make a woman’s life easy, an’—an’ happy. Will you come, little Joan? Will you sure come?”
His eager young face was close to hers, and his deep breath fanned her warm cheek. She gave him no verbal reply. At that moment she had no words. But she turned toward him. And, as she turned, her lips met his in one long, passionate kiss. He needed no other reply. She was giving him herself. It was the soul of the woman speaking.
Some moments later their horses were again heading for Leeson Butte. The eyes of the girl were shining with a happiness such as she had never known before, and Buck sat with head erect, and the light of a great purpose in his eyes. For a while they rode thus. Then the man’s eyes twinkled with a sudden thought. For a moment he glanced at the golden head so close beside him. Then he smiled.
“Say, little Joan,” he cried, “guess you’re that gal-hero after all.”
Joan responded to his look.
“How?” she inquired, with a heightened color.
“Why, jest git a look at me. Me! You’re goin’ to marry me! I’d sure say you’ve a heap more grit than any gal-hero I’ve heard tell of.”