At last, she’d finished all three and turned to the beautiful dappled horse.  Chace had kept an eye on her.  As she approached the horse, he was there.

“Let me get him to the wagon,” he said.  When he’d tied up the big gray, he stood back.  Charlotte began with easy strokes.  The horse startled and wrenched his neck swiftly in her direction, teeth bared.  Chace stood at his head, holding the halter taut.  Charlotte started over, talking softly, running her brush down the horse’s neck, over his shoulder, down the legs, along his sides and flanks in long firm rhythmic strokes.  His stiffened posture relaxed.  His head drooped.  And then there it was, that sweet nickering sound that said, in horse language, she was certain, please don’t ever stop doing that.

“I think you’ve just ruined my horse.”

“I don’t suppose I can feed him oats now?”

“No, I don’t suppose you can.”

<>

The days came more easily with the accommodations they’d made to each other after the nightmares.  He stayed closer, she was less anxious.  He wanted her to ride up ahead on her mare, not trail behind as she had been, and she did so without asking why.  They traveled even more slowly.  Charlotte had no idea what awaited him at the end of the journey, though she meant to ask.  For herself, they could be traveling backwards for all she cared, or standing still, as long as the Family was far enough away on either end.

She commented on the blessed relief, the acres of time.

“It won’t be forever, though, will it?”

“No.  Not unless we change direction.  I could get you south on the trail to Santa Fe, but then where would you be?”

“In Santa Fe, I guess.  I’m still going to pretend it’s forever.  Right now I’m erasing the desert and everything in it, including the uncle I can barely remember.”

“The waiting one?”

“Forget about him like I am,” she said evenly.  “He doesn’t even have a name.”

Charlotte realized that she felt a deep humiliation for how much he knew about her.  It was all so private, so painful.  Yet the respite he provided was worth every hard revelation.

<>

The rest stops became her favorite part of any given day.  She could do as she pleased.  Chace Bridger Yellow Cloud made no claims on her time.  He was obviously used to being alone far more than she had ever been.  Sometimes, it seemed as if he hardly knew she was there.