“But you never told me Lightning brought my pinto along up,” Molly exclaimed.
Blanche smiled.
“Didn’t I?” she said. “Guess I must have forgotten.”
The two women looked into each other’s eyes, and the girl squeezed one of the hands caressing hers.
“I guess you’re right, Blanche,” she said, with a little sigh. Then her smile began to dawn again. “I—I think you’re most always right. Sure I’ll go to-morrow. The harvest must be fixed, and—I guess Lightning won’t fail me.”
Blanche sighed contentedly.
“No,” she said, “Lightning won’t fail you.”
Supper was over. At the girl’s request Jim had gone with her down to the barn where her pinto was stabled. She wanted to see her little mare again, that creature that was almost part of her life. Larry and Blanche were alone on the verandah. They were standing together where the others had left them. One of the man’s arms was about the woman’s shapely shoulders, and she was drawn close up to him.
“You’re all wrong, Blanche, sending that little kid down there to look at the show where all her trouble happened,” Larry said, with a wise shake of the head. “Jim ought to’ve bucked right away. What sort of good are you looking for? Look at the way she broke up over Lightning. You’re taking a hell of a chance. And if I’d been Jim——”