Rose smiled. «It must have seemed strange to a gently raised girl.»

«Not as strange as all that land and no trees,» Willow said. «Not one tree. The stage stations were dug into hillsides and roofed with sod. Matt had told me about it, but I thought he was exaggerating.»

Eddy laughed even as he looked at Willow and shook his head. «Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Mrs. Moran.»

«Oh, you did,» Willow agreed. «When I found your name in my father’s, er, father-in-law’s correspondence and wrote you about finding Matt, you were most discouraging.»

«Must be every bit of six hundred miles from St. Joseph,» Eddy said. «That’s a long, hard trip for a young woman alone.»

«It’s a long ride for anyone, but I had my horses. My Stallion Ishmael is more comfortable than any stage seat. When it wasn’t raining, I rode. Some of the passengers had it much worse than I did. They had no horse to ride and no money to pay for extra overnight stops to rest from the ride. I met several poor souls who were making the trip in half the time I took.»

«Why didn’t you wait for your man to come and get you?» Rose asked. Then she half-laughed, half-smiled, and flushed. «Lord, listen to me! I’m sorry, Mrs. Moran. I’m so hungry for news of anything east of Denver I forget my manners. Lots of folks that come here don’t want to talk about what they left behind, or why, or even what their name was back home.»

Before Willow could answer, Caleb said coolly, «Don’t fret about pretty manners, Rose. Mrs. Moran is such a fancy southern lady that she doesn’t expect much in the way of polish from people out here.»

«Caleb Black!» Rose said, astonished. «What’s got into you? You’re not the kind to care which side a man fought on, long as he had grit enough to fight. And your manners are better than any man’s — East, South, or North! Leastways, they used to be good.» She turned toward Willow and patted the younger woman’s hand. «Don’t mind Cal. He’s just funning you. He don’t hate southerners. My goodness, Eddy is from Texas!»