“Sho! It doesn't matter what the coyote meant. It's all over now. You're with friends.”
A warm smile lit his steel-blue eyes, softened the lines of his lean, hard face. Never had shipwrecked mariner come to safer harbor than she. She knew that this slim, sun-bronzed Westerner was a man's man, that strength and nerve inhabited his sinewy frame. He would fight for her because she was a woman as long as he could stand and see.
A touch of color washed back into her cheeks, a glow of courage into her heart. “Yes, it's all over. The weary, weary hours—and the fear—and the pain—and the dreadful thirst—and worst of all, him!”
She began to cry softly, hiding her face in his coat-sleeve.
“I'm crying because—it's all over. I'm a little fool, just as—as you said I was.”
“I didn't know you then,” he smiled. “I'm right likely to make snap-shot judgments that are 'way off.”
“You knew me well enough to—” She broke off in the middle, bathed in a flush of remembrance that brought her coppery head up from his arm instantly.
“Be careful. You're dizzy yet.”
“I'm all right now, thank you,” she answered, her embarrassed profile haughtily in the air. “But I'm ravenous for something to eat. It's been twenty-four hours since I've had a bite. That's why I'm weepy and faint. I should think you might make a snap-shot judgment that breakfast wouldn't hurt me.”
He jumped up contritely. “That's right. What a goat I am!”