Willow, however, had been available.

«Whatever Matt does,» she said finally, hating to lie even by omission, «I hope to raise horses. Ishmael is a fine stallion. My four mares have been bred with equal care.»

«Where will you settle?» Rose asked.

«I haven’t decided. The homestead laws allow a woman to —»

«Homesteading!» Eddy interrupted. «Mrs. Moran, you can’t be thinking of homesteading. You’re much too fine a lady to ruin your hands working this stubborn western land. You let your man take care of you.»

«You’re very kind,» Willow said, «but I’d rather depend on myself. Men are so easily distracted. Wave a flag in front of them, or whisper about gold or adventure, and off they go, leaving their women to fend for themselves and the children the men were so eager to create in the first place.»

Rose gave Willow a startled look, then laughed aloud. «Ain’tit just the God’s honest truth! My Joe was as good a man as they come, but when a neighbor set off into those devil mountains four years ago, sure he would find gold, Joe went along and never mind the four little ones hanging on my skirts and the one waiting to be birthed. The neighbor come back coughing blood. My Joe never come back at all.»

«I’m sorry, Mrs. Sorenson,» Willow said, her voice low. «It was hard enough for me with just Mother to take care of. I can’t imagine what I would have done with four children and a babe, too.»

«Oh, ’tain’tall bad, dear. Men are notional creatures, but charming all the same. Life without them would be a poor thing to live,» the widow said, smiling at Eddy. «No one to hold the yarn while I wind it into balls. No one to fix a stubborn pump so I can wash my hair. No one to walk out with when the moon is full and the air smells of lilac. No one to smile when I come into a room.» Rose laughed softly. «And no one to run to when thunder comes and scares the living daylights out of me.»