A shy glance shot him and set him a-tingle with a queer delight. Gracious, what pretty dark velvety lashes she had!
She was rising already, and as she paid for the ice cream that innocent gaze smote him again with the brightest of Irish eyes conceivable. It lingered for just a ponderable sunlit moment or him. She had smiled once more.
After a decent interval Mac pursued his petite charmer to the hotel. She was seated on the porch reading a magazine, and was absorbedly unconscious of him when he passed. For a few awkward moments he hung around the office, then returned to the porch and took the chair most distant from her. He had sat there a long ten minutes before she let her hands and the magazine fall into her lap and demurely gave him his chance.
“Can you tell me how far it is to the Lazy D ranch?”
“Seventy-two miles as the crow flies, ma’am.”
“Thank you.”
The conversation threatened to die before it was well born. Desperately McWilliams tried to think of something to say to keep it alive without being too bold.
“If y’u were thinking of traveling out that way I could give y’u a lift. I just came in to get another lady—an old lady that has just come to this country.”
“Thank you, but I’m expecting a conveyance to meet me here. You didn’t happen to pass one on the way, I suppose?”
“No, I didn’t. What ranch were y’u going to, ma’am?