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By Root 1006 0

seen, and Ellen was the prettiest woman I’d seen. Just as pretty as I remembered. She had supper sent up for just the two of us and told me her husband was dead. She told me about the Rocking S and offered me a job. That was twelve years ago. I’ve been with her ever since.” He let go Sadie’s hand and rolled another smoke. “I know what folks said about me and Ellen. I didn’t care. Ellen had strong . . . desires that most women wouldn’t understand. She needed me, just as I needed her when I had no one who cared if I lived or died. She wasn’t perfect, but I loved her.” He was quiet and finished the smoke, flipped it out into the night and said with wonderment, “I never had any idea she’d do what she said she did. Guess I was about as blind about Ellen as she was about Travis.”

Sadie sat spellbound while he talked. She understood his feelings. They reflected her own longing, the yearning for something permanent, the wanting to belong. Her compassion made her bold.

“You’ve got me now, Jesse. If you want me.” She could feel his sharp eyes searching her face in the darkness. She waited in agonizing silence for his answer.

His arm came around her and pulled her tightly to him.

“I want you, Sadie.” The words were whispered against her ear. “Oh, God, yes. I want you.”

“I love you, Jesse,” she said, with tears in her voice. “I ain’t much, but I love you so much it hurts me . . . but it’s a hurt I like.”

“Sadie. . . .” He raised his head and looked at her. “Sadie, you’re everything. You and Mary are everything. I’ve saved my wages, and it’ll give us a start.”

He kissed her gently, lovingly, yet possessively. His arms held her protectively and she snuggled against his chest. She had come a long, lonely way through the years, as Jesse had done, but now she had found home, safety, someone to love and someone to love her.

Summer awoke. Night had come. She came awake fully aware of the events of the day. The house was silent and dark except for the low burning lamp on the mantel. Ellen was dead, she knew it at once. No sorrow touched her heart for Ellen, and no regret for Travis. He had done that terrible thing to Slater . . . Slater! Oh, God! How can I ever think of him as . . . brother?

Her face was wet with sweat where it had rested on her arm. She washed it matter-of-factly and tidied her hair from habit. Her stomach protested the fact she had not eaten all day, and propelled by yet another habit, she went to the warming oven for cornbread and to the crock for milk. The food went down automatically. She looked behind the curtain. Only Mary was there. Taking the lamp, she climbed the ladder until she could see into the loft room. The small shape of her brother was on the bunk.

At that moment, the reality of what she was doing hit her. She was leaving her little brother! He was her child in every sense of the word except by birth. He was her reason for coming here. Since the day he was born she had cared for him, taught him, never stinting on love and devotion. Here, in this place, he had grown wings, learned to depend on her less, expanded his knowledge by leaps and bounds. This was the place he should be. Slater would see to his education. Someday, he would be in a great university, teaching others. At that time, she would know she had done the right thing by leaving him behind.

At the door of her room she paused, holding the lamp out to the side so she could see. Ellen’s body lay on her bed, the outline clearly visible beneath the sheet. Ellen had been going to take her with her in the morning. Now she would go alone.

Calm and dry-eyed, she was returning the lamp to the mantel when the door opened. She turned quickly, guiltily, suddenly fearful of whom she must face. Sadie came in, followed by Jesse. Jack followed close behind. Summer avoided his eyes and looked at Sadie.

“Is your head better? You was sleepin’ so sound I was a hopin’ that when you woke up your head wouldn’t a be a killin’ you like it was.”

Summer looked from the men to Sadie and understood her line of talk. She was helping her to produce an excuse for