Jimmy turned to her, a half-smile on his wide mouth.
“Do I look as raw as all that, Miss Taylor? I know I’m not a cowboy, but I’m going to be. Johnny Grant says I’ll make a good one, if I live to finish my education.”
Marion laughed at his naive confession.
“I didn’t know that anybody ever wanted to be a cowboy,” she said. “It’s just hard work.”
Jimmy Legg looked at her, a curious expression in his eyes.
“And romance,” he said slowly. “It is a big world out here. The blue nights, the sweet air of the hills in the morning, the midday, when the air fairly hums with the heat; and then when the shadows of sunset come, and the birds call—isn’t it worth learning to be a cowboy, to live here?”
“Well, when you see things that way, Mr. Legg. I’ve lived here almost all my life, and I—maybe I’m so used to it.”
“Having cowboys thrown off at your feet?” grinned Jimmy.
Marion flushed slightly.
“No, this is the first time. But you see, you are not a regular cowpuncher.”