“I think that’s awf’ly silly of him.”
“I’m not so sure about that, Bettykins. If there’s any doubt whatever, he’d better wait till he’s certain.” He let his arm fall across her shoulders with a gentleness she knew to be a caress. “Have you found the man you want, dear? Sure about it?”
She smiled ruefully. “I’m sure enough, Dad. He’s the one that seems in doubt.” To this she added a reply to a sentence earlier in his period. “He didn’t say anything to me about waiting. His ‘No, thank you,’ was quite definite, I thought.”
Clint’s wrath began to simmer. “If he’s got a notion that he can take or leave you as he pleases—”
Betty put a hand on his arm. “Please, Dad. I don’t mean what I said. It’s not fair to him. He doesn’t think that at all.”
“There’s no man in the Rockies good enough for you—”
“Are you taking in enough territory?” she teased, her face bubbling to mirth. “I don’t even know whether you’re including Denver. Justin came from there, and he’s too good for me.”
“Who says he’s too good?”
“Too perfect, then. I couldn’t live up to him. Never in the world.” Her eyes fixed on something in the distance. She watched for a moment or two. “Talking about angels, Dad. There’s the flutter of his engine fan.”
Reed turned.