Perch’s wagon had to be partially unloaded and pulled by doubled teams.
They lost four hours.
Ash lost ten.
For the first time since Bitter Brush left home, Lou moved ahead.
That night they camped six miles beyond the wash.
No fire.
Too tired.
Lou lay beneath the stars unable to sleep.
Emmett sat nearby repairing tack by moonlight.
“You knew that trail?”
“No.”
“Then why follow me?”
“You looked certain.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I know.”
Lou turned toward him.
“That is a terrible answer.”
“You wanted honesty.”
She smiled in spite of herself.
Emmett set down the leather strap.
“Lou.”
“Yes?”
“I didn’t come to Bitter Brush by accident.”
She sat up.
Of course.
There was always something else.
“You promised.”
“I said there was nothing else about Ash.”
She stared.
“That is criminally precise.”
“I’ve been around contracts.”
“What does that mean?”
Emmett reached into his pocket.
A small folded letter.
Old.
Soft at the creases.
He handed it to her.
The handwriting was Perch’s.
Lou recognized it immediately.
Emmett Roe, if this reaches you, Bitter Brush needs a man who knows cattle and doesn’t frighten easy. Lou will shoot me if she learns I wrote. She has a Winnemucca contract too big for the crew we’ve got and too much pride to admit she’s in trouble. Come if you’re still tired of wandering. Don’t come if you want charity. She has none.
Lou read it twice.
Then looked across camp.
Perch was asleep beside the wagon.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“His leg’s bad.”
“I’ll wait.”
Emmett smiled.
Lou looked at the letter again.
“So Perch brought you.”
“He pointed.”
“You came.”
“Yes.”
“Why the husband line?”
His expression became less amused.
“That wasn’t Perch.”
“I assumed.”
He looked toward the stars.
“Three years ago I saw you in Winnemucca.”
Lou frowned.
“Where?”
“Livestock yard.”
“I go every year.”
“You were arguing with a buyer.”
“That narrows nothing.”
“He told you your cattle should bring less because a woman-owned outfit was riskier.”
Lou remembered.
Her anger had lasted weeks.
“What happened?”
“You made him pay three cents more than he offered your neighbor.”
Lou smiled.
“He was stupid.”
“He was terrified.”
“Of me?”
“Yes.”
“That improves the memory.”
Emmett looked at her.
“I remembered you.”
The desert became very quiet.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Liar.”
He smiled faintly.
“You looked like you had nowhere to put all the fight in you.”
Her breath caught.
“That is not romantic.”
“It was to me.”
Lou stared at him.
Emmett continued.
“When Perch’s letter came, I recognized the name.”
“You rode all this way because you saw me argue with a cattle buyer three years ago?”
“No.”
He moved closer.
“I rode because I was tired of arriving places where nobody wanted me to stay.”
Lou waited.
“And Bitter Brush?”
“Sounded like a place stubborn enough to survive me.”
She laughed softly.
Emmett looked down at his hands.
“The husband line was a joke.”
“I know.”
“Mostly.”
Lou stopped laughing.
He looked up.
“I thought if you threw something at me, I’d know immediately where I stood.”
“And because I hired you?”
“I still don’t know.”
She studied his face.
The anger had not vanished.
But it had changed.
She understood the shape of his secrets now.
Shame.
Fear.
Not conspiracy.
“You should have told me about Perch.”
“Yes.”