This did not suit her at all. “Is it far to the Lazy D?” she inquired anxiously.
“Every inch of forty miles. There’s a creek not more than two hundred yards from here. We’ll stay there till morning,” he made answer in a matter of course voice, leading the way to the place he had mentioned.
She followed, protesting. Yet though it was not in accord with her civilized sense of fitness, she knew that what he proposed was the common sense solution. She was tired and worn out, and she could see that his broncho had traveled far.
Having reached the bank of the creek, he unsaddled, watered his horse and picketed it, and started a fire. Uneasily she watched him.
“I don’t like to sleep out. Isn’t there a ranchhouse near?”
“Y’u wouldn’t call it near by the time we had reached it. What’s to hinder your sleeping here? Isn’t this room airy enough? And don’t y’u like the system of lighting? ’Twas patented I forget how many million years ago. Y’u ain’t going to play parlor girl now after getting the reputation y’u’ve got for gameness, are y’u?”
But he knew well enough that it was no silly schoolgirl fear she had, but some deep instinct in her that distrusted him and warned her to beware. So, lightly he took up the burden of the talk while he gathered cottonwood branches for the fire.
“Now if I’d only thought to bring a load of lumber and some carpenters—and a chaperon,” he chided himself in burlesque, his bold eyes closely on the girl’s face to gloat on the color that flew to her cheeks at his suggestion.
She hastened to disclaim lightly the feeling he had unmasked in her. “It is a pity, but it can’t be helped now. I suppose I am cross and don’t seem very grateful. I’m tired out and nervous, but I am sure that I’ll enjoy sleeping out. If I don’t I shall not be so ungenerous as to blame you.”
He soon had a cup of steaming coffee ready for her, and the heat of it made a new woman of her. She sat in the warm fire glow, and began to feel stealing over her a delightful reaction of languor. She told herself severely it was ridiculous to have been so foolishly prim about the inevitable.