Yep, no how no way was she ever gonna be dependent on a husband. Instead, she aimed to make her own way.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “You’ll see.”

In the starlit night, the scruffy layer of unshaven hair made Jericho’s face darker and more foreboding.

“I’m gonna raise sheep.” Maybe if she expounded on her plans, she’d have a better chance at convincing him. “Already been in touch with a sheepherder in Utah.”

“Your brothers know of your plans?”

She released an irritated huff. “I reckon I can live my own life without having to involve them.” What was it with her brothers? And now Jericho? Why did they think they had to oversee everything she did? She might be the baby of the family and the only girl, but she was eighteen, soon going on nineteen. They needed to stop holding on to her so tight.

“They’re watching out for you because they love you. That’s what older brothers do.”

She guessed he was thinking of Nash and missing him. “I know.” Compassion pushed aside her frustration. Jericho had tormented himself since the day Nash had died. The night Jericho had left South Park, he told her he wanted to get away from the reminders of his brother.

What had brought him back? The question was on the tip of her tongue, but before she could ask it, Jericho spoke. “Alright. I won’t say anything about your competing. But . . .”

“But what?”

“But you have to promise you won’t do any more Roman-style racing—”

“That’s not fair. I’m good at it. The best—”

“No more Roman-style,” he stated with as much stubbornness as an ornery bull. “It’s too dangerous.”

A long string of protests burned for release, but from the set of Jericho’s shoulders, she reckoned she had about as much of a chance of getting him to change his mind as she had in getting a cow to climb a tree.

“Fine,” she said.

“And only until the end of August.”

She started up the path again. “Anyone ever tell you how bossy you are?”

“Only you.” His words hinted at the memories of days gone by.

They’d had lots of good times, especially those months on the trail west when they’d been kids with nothing more to do than fish and hunt and learn new riding and roping tricks. Yep, the trip had been dangerous and tiring and long. But she’d loved every minute, mainly because she’d been able to spend as much time as she wanted with Jericho. He’d always been easy to talk to. And since they’d each lost a parent, they’d been able to confide in each other the frustration of having remaining parents abandon them, almost as if they’d died too.