“Why not?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“I want to know now.”

“Well, my father’s got one of his streaks.”

“Against me?”

“Yes. I can’t go to dinner with you tomorrow, but I won’t eat much at home, so you can tell Lee to save a plate for me.”

He was turning shy. She could feel it in the relaxing grip on her arm and in his silence, and she could see it in his raised face. “I shouldn’t have told you that tonight.”

“Yes, you should,” he said slowly. “Tell me the truth. Do you still—want to be with me?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then all right. I’ll go away now. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

He left her on her porch with the feeling of a light-brushed kiss on her lips. She felt hurt that he had agreed so easily, and she laughed sourly at herself that she could ask a thing and be hurt when she got it. She watched his tall quick step through the radiance of the corner streetlight. She thought, I must be crazy. I’ve been imagining things.

[2]

In his bedroom after he had said his good night, Aron sat on the edge of his bed and peered down at his hands cupped between his knees. He felt let down and helpless, packed like a bird’s egg in the cotton of his father’s ambition for him. He had not known its strength until tonight, and he wondered whether he would have the strength to break free of its soft, persistent force. His thoughts would not coagulate. The house seemed cold with a dampness that made him shiver. He got up and softly opened his door. There was a light under Cal’s door. He tapped and went in without waiting for a reply.

Cal sat at a new desk. He was working with tissue paper and a bolt of red ribbon, and as Aron came in he hastily covered something on his desk with a large blotter.

Aron smiled. “Presents?”

“Yes,” said Cal and left it at that.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Sure! Come on in. Talk low or Father will come in. He hates to miss a moment.”

Aron sat down on the bed. He was silent so long that Cal asked, “What’s the matter—you got trouble?”

“No, not trouble. I just wanted to talk to you. Cal, I don’t want to go on at college.”

Cal’s head jerked around. “You don’t? Why not?”

“I just don’t like it.”

“You haven’t told Father, have you? He’ll be disappointed. It’s bad enough that I don’t want to go. What do you want to do?”

“I thought I’d like to take over the ranch.”

“How about Abra?”

“She told me a long time ago that’s what she’d like.”

Cal studied him. “The ranch has got a lease to run.”

“Well, I was just thinking about it.”

Cal said, “There’s no money in farming.”

“I don’t want much money. Just to get along.”

“That’s not good enough for me,” said Cal. “I want a lot of money and I’m going to get it too.”