a beer and watching the sunset fade above the distant prairie. The summer night was warm, the breeze fragrant with the scent of pine. From the pond he’d made by widening the creek bed, frogs filled the darkness with their songs.
He rolled a cigarette from the pouch and papers in his shirt pocket, then changed his mind and dropped the unlit cigarette onto the deck.
He had taken Mason home after the visit to the store, then left Amelia, still complaining, to go about his business for the rest of the day. Through it all, one thought had played over and over like a song in his mind.
Sarah.
They’d been so young—little more than children—when they’d made love, but he’d never forgotten the sweetness of it. Now they were older, and the urge to have her again was a burning ache inside him. But that was wrong, all wrong. He was married to Amelia. What could he do? Make Sarah his mistress? She deserved better than that. She deserved better than anything he could possibly give her.
Restless, he rose, walked to the rail, and stood looking down at the winding road that led up the slope. His eyes caught a moving flicker of light—a lantern. A rider was coming up the road.
Peering through the twilight, he waited. A white head and stocky body came into view. The rider, mounted on a mule, was Rusty. Joe hurried down the steps to greet the old man, take the lantern, and help him dismount. “What are you doing out at this hour, Rusty?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing like that. Just need to clear the air with you.” Rusty climbed the stairs to the porch with effort. Joe lent him an arm, helped him to a chair, and set the lantern next to him.
“Can I warm up some stew? Maybe get you a beer?”
“Never mind that. I just need to talk.”
“You’ve come a long way just to talk.”
“Sit down, boy. It’s about Sarah. I know you saw her today. And she saw you.”
“Fine, you’ve got my attention.” Joe pulled a chair up close to the old man and sat down. “What’s she doing here? I thought she’d gone off to become a doctor.”
“It’s a long story. I’ve come to tell it to you so you won’t go nosing around and bothering her. She didn’t come to see you, Joe. She already knew you had a family.”
“So tell me the whole story. Did she go to medical school?”
“She couldn’t. It turns out you left her in a family way.”
The impact of the words hit Joe like a gut punch. He groaned out loud, almost doubling over with the emotional pain. Sarah, pregnant, alone, and then with a baby to support. Lord, why hadn’t she let him know? But he already knew the answer to that question. He’d left her with no way to reach him. And he hadn’t tried to contact her. After she’d learned that he was married, no doubt she’d given up.
“She’s had a pretty rough time of it,” Rusty said. “Folks in Ogallala pretty much turned their backs on her. When Lorna needed a teacher for the new school, I suggested Sarah. Lorna thought it was a great idea. So here she is.”
“But . . . the baby. What about the baby?”
“She’s got a fine boy. He looks a lot like you, but you’ve got no claim on him. She gave him her last name, not yours. As far as the town’s concerned, she’s a widow. The only ones that know the truth are Lorna, me, and now you. And you’d better make damned sure it stays that way.”
“But if I could just see my son—”
“Your son? Did you take care of him or contribute a dime of your precious money? Did you stand by his mother and help raise him? You’re no father to that boy, Joe. I’m tellin’ you to leave him alone. And leave Sarah alone. You broke her heart once. She doesn’t need you doin’ it again and neither does her boy. Stay away from them. Hear?”
Joe rose, feeling as if a heavy weight had been laid on his shoulders. “I hear you, Rusty. And I understand.”
“Then I’ll be on my way.” Rusty pushed to his feet. “It’s past my bedtime.”
“You’re welcome to bunk here tonight,” Joe said. “I’ll even see that you get some breakfast. Or I’d be glad to saddle up and ride with you.”
“That’s all right. My old mule knows the way home. He could probably