For a brief instant he turned his eyes away from her and gazed after a
herd that was moving slowly toward the north, Barbee and the other boys
heading again toward the home range. But, no matter what rage and
sullen chagrin lay in his heart, his eyes, returning to Terry, showed
that already her coming had worked its change. He appeared almost
content.
"Are you going to shake hands?" he asked.
"Shall I?" she asked. "We are to be good friends after all?"
"Or, are you going to kiss me?"
Terry arched her brows at him. But there was a live fire in her eyes
and a crimsoning tide under her lovely skin.
"Smarty!" cried the old Terry. "Just try getting fresh with me and
you'll get your face slapped!"
Whereupon Steve's laughter boomed out joyously.
"It's Terry come home again!" he announced to the open meadow about
them. "Terry herself."
Was it Terry herself? She seemed strangely embarrassed all of a
sudden. Just why? Terry didn't know.
"We are going out in my car," she said hurriedly. It seemed that she
must hasten to make some safe remark each time that his eyes, busied
with her, rested upon her eyes. "We'll be at the ranch long before you
get your cows home. You may come to see me--if you please to."
"Who is we?" he asked.
"Oh," said Terry, "that means Mrs. Randall who is going to be cook and
chaperon."
San Juan dozed in the late afternoon heat.
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