‘And war will help you?’

‘War will be the making of us.’

Hannah looked out over the flat landscape of the valley. The distant mountains appeared strangely close, as if they were a model. ‘I have decided to come out of mourning,’ she said.

Collis glanced at her. ‘You mean it? When?’

‘Today. Now.’

She turned to him, her eyes liquid and wide. Then she tugged off her black armband and threw it away. One of the wagon wheels ran over it, and left it on the trail, crushed and dusty.

Collis reined back the horses, and the wagon clattered to a halt. The only sound was a faint northwesterly breeze, and the occasional stirring of a horse’s hoof. Collis stared at Hannah for a long time, unsure of what he should say.

‘You don’t think of Walter anymore?’

She shrugged. ‘Sometimes. But when I do find myself thinking of him, I try to remember how it felt in that notions store on Montgomery Street, with nothing ahead of me but years of measuring percale, and of Walter’s unceasing humility. I realised when I met you, Collis, that I am not a woman who can care for humble men.’

‘Hm,’ said Collis.

There was a very long silence. The wind whistled between the spokes of the wagon wheels. Then Collis snapped his whip and released the brake, and the horses started off again. Hannah, surprised, had to hold on to the seat tightly to prevent herself from falling.

‘Is that all?’ she demanded. ‘Is that all you’re going to say?’

He looked at her, but didn’t answer.

They rattled on for half a mile or so, and then Hannah suddenly reached over and seized the reins. The horses reared and jostled, and the harness jangled, and the wagon came to a stop.

‘Is that all you’re going to say?’ Hannah wanted to know, her cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment.

Collis shook his head. He was enjoying this. At last, with Walter dead and with Hannah’s mourning over, he could treat her the way that she really ought to be treated: as a spirited, pretty woman, with a mind of her own. He loved her. He loved her so much that he hadn’t slept with her since he had brought her back to Sacramento. He had been saving himself for this very moment, the moment when Hannah herself had been obliged to wait for so long for more of the passion she had tasted at the International Hotel that she couldn’t wait any longer.

‘What should I say?’ he teased her.

‘Anything!’ she snapped. ‘Anything, apart from “Hm”!’

Collis reached into his coat pocket and took out his silver brandy flask. ‘How about “Have a drink”?’ he asked her.

She pouted and refused to answer.

‘You can just drive on,’ she said.

Collis took up the reins again. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘How about “Will you marry me?”’