Free Twin Guns by Wick Evans Page B

Doesn't he know that's why I have to go?"
    Maria's dark eyes showed nothing. She made no move to offer comfort, to take the girl into her arms as Jen expected. "Maybe you don't love him enough!" was all she offered. "I'll get your suitcases."
    She left Jen standing in a room which had suddenly become unfamiliar, although it was a room she had known all her life. She would never visit the big kitchen again. Kirby's gentle voice and the stiffness of Maria's back as she walked out told her that. I've burned my bridges, she thought. And I know I'm right, even if they don't understand. Maybe I've lost Kirby, but I haven't lost a husband. She walked slowly to her room.
    An hour later she finished packing the few things Maria had brought from town. She stood, feeling very lonely, in the big bedroom she had known since girlhood. She was leaving a part of herself in that bedroom, a part of her life that was infinitely precious. She squared her shoulders and, her heart a cold lump in her breast, walked out and closed the heavy oak door.
    Maria was back in the kitchen when she went through. She didn't look up or stop what she was doing as Jen paused expectantly, then sadly closed the door behind her. Kirby appeared in the entrance to the shed when she walked across the yard.
    "Ready, Josh," he called, and in a few moments the old foreman came from the stable, leading three saddled ponies. Kirby helped her mount without a word and Josh didn't even glance in her direction as they trotted across the muddy yard. Her pony wanted to pitch a bit, and she was glad of the attention she had to give her mount. It was something to do to avoid meeting Kirby's eyes.
    "Our whole cavvy needs riding," he said. "This weather none of 'em have been worked enough to get the ginger out of 'em."
    "How is the filly this morning?" she asked, grateful for something to say.
    "Manuel says that she's going to be all right. He's going to have Miguel keep walking her every day. That way she may not have a stiff shoulder." He grinned ruefully. "Right now he's giving her more attention than I'd get if I were to break a leg." He paused in thought. "I'll have her brought to town as soon as Manuel thinks she's well enough."
    Jen shook her head. "Don't do that, Kirby. I've no place to keep her except the livery, and I probably won't do any riding until spring. She'll be better off with Manuel to look out for her. Maybe this spring…" Her voice died away as she realized that for her there wouldn't be any spring except some black letters on a calendar.
    "Whatever you say… she belongs to you," Kirby answered.
    She was about to say that nothing at Wagon belonged to her any more, but decided not to add to the hurt she saw far back in his eyes.
    The rest of the trip into Streeter was made in silence. Under ordinary circumstances it would have been a gay ride. There was one long stretch of trail, where the snow had melted, where she and Kirby would have raced… under Josh's disapproving eyes. She knew that Kirby, too, remembered those wild rides they had shared. But they trotted into the hills in silence. Josh gave his close attention to something between his horse's ears and didn't speak throughout the trip, which was unusual even for the taciturn foreman.
    He dropped out of the little procession as they passed the Nugget; Kirby rode on with Jen to the little white cottage. He tied their horses to the fence and carried her things inside.
    "It's cold in here," he said as he unlocked the door. "Would you like me to build a fire?"
    Jen knew that there was no fire that would warm the coldness building up around her heart. "No, thanks. It will give me something to do."
    He shrugged. "Suit yourself. Well, I've got to meet Josh. We have to try and find some hay and…" His excuse fell lamely in the cold stale air of the parlor.
    "Kirby!" She held out her hands imploringly. "I can't help feeling the way I do. Won't you please try to understand?"
    He made no move to touch her. "I