She clung to him, crying a little. “You don’t blame me, then, Dad?”
“Not a bit. You did right. If Merrick had been the proper man for you, he’d have understood you well enough to know you had to come here. Maybe it wasn’t wise to come. Maybe it was impulsive. I reckon most folks would agree with him about that. But he’d have known his Betty. He’d ’a’ helped you, even though it was foolish. You wouldn’t be happy with any man who couldn’t let you fly the coop once in a while.”
“Was it foolish to come, Dad?” she asked.
He stroked her dark hair gently. “It’s the foolishness we all love in you, honey—that way you have of giving till it hurts.”
Betty had inherited her impulsiveness from him. He, too, could be generous without counting the cost. He rejoiced in the eagerness with which her spirit went out to offer the gift of herself. But he had to be both father and mother. Generosity might easily carry her too far.
“I do such crazy things,” she murmured. “And I never know they’re silly till afterward.”
“This wasn’t silly,” he reassured her. “I’d have figured out some other way if I’d been home. But I wasn’t. Rayburn says your cooking an’ your nursing have helped young Hollister a lot. I’m glad you came, now it’s over with. I reckon you’ve paid my debt in full, Bettykins.”
“He’s absurdly grateful,” she said. “I haven’t done much for him. You’d think I’d saved his life.”
“Soon now we’ll be able to get him back to the ranch and Bridget can take care of him. Ruth’s wearyin’ for you. I’ll be more satisfied when we’re there. I’ve got old Jake Prowers on my mind some. Never can tell what he’ll be up to.”
Hollister was grateful to Betty, whether absurdly so or not is a matter of definitions. His big eyes followed her about the room as she cooked custards with the eggs and milk brought from the Howard place just below. “Sweet Marie” did not entrance him when Black tunelessly sang it, but the snatches of song she hummed at her work filled the room with melody for him. She read “David Copperfield” aloud after he began to mend, and his gaze rested on her with the mute admiration sick men are likely to give charming nurses overflowing with good-will and vitality. Her laugh lifted like a lark’s song. Even her smile had the radiant quality of one who is hearing good news.