“Please, Rowan. I want so much to try it,” she pleaded. “I haven’t ever been any help to you—thought of nothing but having a good time. You were too good to me—let me spend far more money than I ought. You see, I didn’t realize how hard up you were. But now I’m going to be such a tiptop manager, if you’ll only let me.”
“I would, dear—if it were any use,” he told her gently. “But you would have all your worry for nothing. The new conditions make the old ways impossible. I’m sorry.”
Her coaxing smile refused to accept his decision. “My aunt left me her money, you know. I don’t know how much it is yet. Most of it is property that must be sold. But I can use it when it comes to save the ranch. I’d love to. I want to be helping you.”
“Ask Tim Flanders if I’m not right, sweetheart. He has a level head. He’ll tell you just what I’m telling you.”
“All right. I’ll ask him. We don’t need to decide my future now. There will be lots of time after you have gone.”
Rowan drew her to a chair, and sat down with her in his arms. For once his tongue was not tied. The ten minutes that were left he packed full of all the love that had so long been waiting in his heart for expression.
When she said good-bye to him it was with a wan, twitchy little smile on her face. But as soon as he was out of the room she flung herself down, weeping, beside the lounge.
She was still lying crouched there when McCoy climbed to the vestibule of the through train. He moved awkwardly because his left wrist was shackled to the right one of Cole.