But here’s the thing about being a man that you need to learn. Your actions have consequences to the folks who care about you. You’ve got to consider how Emma and Lucy would feel seeing you lowered into the ground up at Boot Hill. And don’t be such a fool to think they wouldn’t see it.”
Red sagged against the corral fence. He freed his hands from his pockets and relaxed his balled-up fists.
Matt leaned into the fence, shoulder to shoulder with Red.
“You see Emma over there rocking on the porch and staring out toward Dodge?”
“She’s been sitting there like that ever since you brought her home half smoked,” Red said.
“If she feels such grief over a horse, think of what she would feel for you.”
“Pearl was a good old blind horse.” Red tried to smooth his hair with the palm of his hand, but it stuck up through his fingers like prickly spikes of straw.
If the outside of the boy couldn’t be tamed, what hope did Matt have of taming the inside?
The front door of the house opened. A beam of yellow light spilled over the porch and shone on Lucy climbing onto Emma’s lap. She drew up her legs and tucked in her arms while Emma wrapped her up in arms full of motherly tenderness.
If it had been difficult telling Red to be ready to take the train out of town first thing in the morning, it would be pure hell breaking the news to Lucy.
“Maybe we ought to see if there’s something we can do about supper,” Red said. “I don’t think Emma’s got the heart for it tonight.”
Matt clapped Red on the shoulder. “Now you sound like a man. A good man.”
It might take some doing to see that Red lived long enough to fulfill the promise of that good man he would be, but Matt would reach out from the grave to see it done if that’s what it took.
* * *
After sundown the wind picked up and a chill crept over the prairie to announce the arrival of autumn.
Emma was beyond grateful to be sitting in her rocker beside the stone fireplace. Who would have thought that creeping cold would seep through the floor and up her legs when only hours ago heat had nearly killed her?
It took some nerve-settling to accept the friendly flicker of fire in her hearth as a blessing after living through a prairie fire. This one’s lapping flames blushed heat against her face and tickled her toes with warmth. The other’s rage had left her with a grieving heart. If it hadn’t been for Matt, she would have perished along with dear Pearl.
How many times would that scene play over in her mind? Would it be days or weeks or even months before she would stop seeing that long prairie stretching away with only one horse nibbling at the dry grass?
She had sensed what had happened to Pearl before she ever found the voice to ask Matt. His words had come to her along with his arms, gentle but heavy with sorrow.
“It’s a wonder that any of us made it out of there, darlin’.” He’d looped one arm about her waist and tugged her back tight to his chest. “Pearl must have gotten confused with all the noise and smoke. She didn’t follow us out of the fire.”
At her first sob he’d turned her about and folded her up in both arms. He’d stroked her hair and whispered in her ear. He’d let her weep against his chest, first with great racking sobs of denial, then later with heart-wrenching moans of despair.
Not once did he mention his own life-threatening situation. If he had given a thought to Hawker in those moments he didn’t say so and hadn’t since. He’d kissed her hair, pressed her tight to his heart. When her grief turned to trembling, he’d scooped her up, settled her in front of him on Thunder’s back and sung softly in her ear all the way home.
For the tenth time in an hour, Emma closed her eyes and listened for the clop of hooves outside the window. It might not be right to hold out vain hope—better to get on with the realities of life and accept them. Still, maybe Pearl had found a way out of the fire. She might come home. If Emma listened hard enough maybe the clipped gait of Pearl’s trot would thump across the yard. She’d hear it easily over the pop and crackle of