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Sybil sat up and wiped her eyes. “I made a foolish mistake.” She pointed at the notes about Brand.
Mercy barely glanced at them. “So?”
“He found these pages by accident. I meant to show him a story I had written about two little boys wanting to break wild horses. I don’t know how these papers got mixed in. How could I have been so careless?”
“You’re saying he wasn’t happy about it? Why not? I’d think he’d be flattered.”
Sybil kept her gaze on the pages, afraid if she looked at Mercy she’d be reduced to a fresh flood of tears. “I guess he thought I only cared about him to get more information.”
“Did you?”
“No, of course not!” Then her defenses deflated. “Maybe a little at first, but just to start with.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.” She tossed the offending papers into her drawer. “I should have never come here.” Despite her pain, she couldn’t regret knowing Brand.
“Oh, sure. You could still be living with Cousin Celia. My lands, child, why would you leave such a nice arrangement?” Mercy mocked Aunt Celia’s voice.
Sybil shuddered. “I can’t imagine going back. And yet I was happy enough there.”
Her friend patted her shoulder in a motherly way. “Only because you didn’t know how much more there was to life. You ought to send that.” She tipped her head toward the drawer where Sybil had tossed the pages. “Brand’s story is really good.”
“I couldn’t.”
Mercy tsked. “This is a new world. We don’t have to be chained by silly old rules.”
Sybil sighed. Let Mercy think it was about rules and proper behavior, but she couldn’t send Brand’s story out without his permission. It would only verify his suspicions. She had no intention of doing that. Even if he never knew one way or the other. Pain pierced her heart like a spear. To never see him again... How would she endure it?
“Think about it.” Mercy patted her arm and left the room.
Sybil stared toward the pages in the drawer. Yes, her editor would love the story, but thanks to Brand, publishing it was no longer what she wanted to do. She pulled out the children’s stories she’d written and looked through them.
She wanted to publish a children’s book in her own name.
But did she have the courage to do so without Brand to tell her it was the right thing to do?
She fell back on the bed. Did she even want to do it without him? She turned over to stare at the wall. His leaving had taken the sunshine from her life.
Chapter Eighteen
As Brand made breakfast, Dawg whined and paced. Breakfast didn’t require a lot of work. Brand hadn’t replenished his supplies, so beans were the only choice.
He offered a plateful to Dawg.
The dog sat down, stared at him and wouldn’t eat.
“When did you get so particular?” he asked. Dawg gave him a baleful look. “You can forget about the kids feeding you. We won’t be seeing them again.” The children had started bringing table scraps to the dog.
Dawg lay down and put his head on his paws.
“Suit yourself.” Brand ate the beans with the same pleasure he’d get from stabbing a fork into his thigh. Why had he let himself think he could be in love? Or maybe more accurately, why did he think Sybil’s interest in him meant she loved him?
He threw away the last of the beans, downed the rest of the coffee, dowsed the fire and saddled his horse. If he rode hard and fast he could be...
Where?
He swung into the saddle and headed north, away from the ranch. The particulars of where didn’t matter.
Dawg stayed by the cold campfire.
Brand whistled for him. Dawg pushed to his feet with a decided lack of enthusiasm and slunk toward Brand.
He again headed north. Dawg barked. Brand turned to see that the dog had not moved. “Come on, let’s get moving.”
Dawg picked up his feet and headed south.
“Wrong way, pal.”
Dawg looked over his shoulder and barked.
It was a standoff. Brand meant to go north and Dawg meant to go south.
“Fine. Have it your way.”
Dawg trotted away, pausing every few feet to look back and whine.
