“He’s no friend of mine,” she said sulkily.
“Don’t blame you a bit. Mr. Houck looks like one hard citizen. I’d hate to cross him.”
“He’s as tough as an old range bull. No matter what you say or do you can’t faze him,” she replied wearily.
“You still hate him?”
“More ’n ever. Most o’ the time. He just laughs. He’s bound an’ determined to marry me whether or not. He will, too.”
Bob looked at her, surprised. It was the first time she had ever admitted as much. June’s slim body was packed with a pantherish resilience. Her spirit bristled with courage. What had come over her?
“He won’t if you don’t want him to.”
“Won’t he?” June was lying on a warm flat rock. She had been digging up dirt at the edge of it with a bit of broken stick. Now she looked up at him with the scorn of an experience she felt to be infinitely more extensive than his. “A lot you know about it.”
“How can he? If you an’ Mr. Tolliver don’t want him to.”
“He just will.”