“I came to Bitter Brush because Perch wrote.”
Another.
“I stayed because of you.”
Now only a few feet separated them.
“The first time I said I wanted the husband job, I was mostly teasing.”
“Mostly.”
“Yes.”
“What about now?”
Emmett’s expression softened.
“Now I’m terrified you’ll think I’m teasing.”
Lou looked away.
Train steam drifted behind them.
Men shouted near the stock pens.
Winnemucca smelled of dust, cattle, coal, and supper cooking somewhere beyond the station.
“I am still angry.”
“I know.”
“I don’t forgive secrets easily.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“I know.”
She glared.
He smiled.
Lou fought one of her own.
“You are not getting a husband position.”
His smile faded slightly.
“All right.”
“Not yet.”
It returned.
“Lou.”
She held up a finger.
“Forty dollars.”
He blinked.
“What?”
“You’re still employed.”
“That is romantic.”
“I’m not finished.”
He waited.
“The husband position requires references.”
“Perch likes me.”
“Perch has poor judgment.”
“Roy?”
“Worse.”
“Tomás?”
“Expensive.”
Emmett stepped closer.
“Who qualifies?”
Lou looked at him.
“Me.”
Silence.
“I decide.”
“Yes.”
“And if I ever ask?”
His voice lowered.
“I’ll answer.”
Lou took his hand.
“Good.”
Then she kissed him beside the Winnemucca stock yards while several cowboys pretended not to watch.
Ben Coyle applauded.
Lou threatened to fire him.
He reminded her the drive was over.
She threatened him anyway.
Bitter Brush looked different when they returned.
Not because buildings had changed.
Because Lou had.
Roy stood on the porch with one arm still partly stiff.
He ran into the yard.
“You made it!”
Perch, who had ridden home two days earlier by stage after helping settle the cattle, stood behind him.
Lou pointed at the old man.
“You wrote him.”
Perch immediately looked at Emmett.
“Traitor.”
“You told me she’d shoot you.”
“I expected loyalty.”
Lou walked toward him.
Perch backed up despite the bad leg.
“Lou.”
“You brought a stranger onto my ranch without telling me.”
“He worked.”
“That is not a defense.”
“Did you marry him?”
“No!”
Perch looked disappointed.
“Then I clearly failed.”
Lou chased him halfway around the porch.
Everyone laughed.
Even Lou.
Especially Lou.
Winter came early.
The first snow covered Bitter Brush in November.
The debt payment cleared.
They bought hay.
Repaired the north barn roof.
Roy returned slowly to riding.
Perch’s leg improved enough for him to supervise from horseback, which made everyone regret his recovery.
Emmett stayed.
That was the strangest part.
December.
Still there.
January.
Still there.
February.
Lou sometimes woke before sunrise and looked toward the bunkhouse chimney.
Smoke.
Every morning.
A small thing.
Enormous.
He was still there.
Home formed through repetition.
Not declarations.
Boots beside the same door.
A coat hanging from the same nail.
A tin cup left upside down beside the pump.