The prospect of being able to relax and sleep was like something out of an impossible dream. Even so, Dwight silently lamented the necessity of him and Belinda not being able to share their blankets, as necessity had prompted since her rescue. Now, as during that time, their utter exhaustion precluded anything but sleep, but her closeness had been unutterably precious to him. He had admitted to himself that he never wanted to sleep again without being able to feel her next to him.

In the camp with the others of the impromptu posse, that was, of course, impossible. He would do nothing to stain her reputation. He was not too exhausted to tease her a bit, however.

‘How are we gonna sleep together with all these other folks around?’

Her eyes danced as she feigned umbrage. ‘We’re not, that’s how. In fact, how dare you even suggest we share a bed, yet! If you want me in your bed, you can jolly well put a ring on my finger.’

‘That didn’t seem to bother you since I caught up with you’n McCrae.’

‘That was different, and you know it! That was just a necessity for what sleep we could manage. That’s not at all the same as planning to sleep for the night.’

‘Well, we could just go ahead and get married, I ’spect.’

‘And how do you propose to do that in this makeshift mining camp?’

‘There’s a preacher here. That’s all we need.’

‘A preacher? Here?’

‘Bandy’s a preacher. Ordained, bona fide, genuine as they come!’

Eyes still sparkling, she called his bluff instantly. ‘Wonderful! Let’s just march over there to where he has his revival tent set up and ask him to perform the ceremony.’

Dwight opened his mouth and closed it again. He took off his hat, ran his hand through his hair, scratched the back of his neck, put the hat back on and cleared his throat. ‘Well, the only problem with that is that he’d sure as sin shoot me on sight. Or I’d have to shoot him. Either one would make it kinda hard for me to say “I do”.’

‘Maybe he’d consent to delay the shooting part until after the “I do”?’

‘But then you might just have a dead husband.’

‘At least I’d have a husband. All I’ve managed so far is a promise of “one of these fine days” that never seems to come.’

He instantly lost all semblance of joviality. His eyes took on a pained look. ‘Honey, you know that ain’t fair! All I been waitin’ for is to have a decent place for you to live, before we tie the knot.’

Her voice took on an unaccustomed edge. ‘And all I’ve been waiting for is for you to stop making excuses! I’ve already told you I’d be happy to share a tent in a cactus patch with you, if that’s all we have.’

He again went through his routine of removing his hat, running a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his neck, and putting the hat back on. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I thought you was willin’ to wait a bit longer.’

‘Well, I’m not.’ Her voice was flat. A spark of deep anger and hurt shone through the usual control of her gaze. She was simply too exhausted to pretend, or to conceal her emotions. ‘I feel like I’m just being strung along, stalled, pushed aside, wanted but not really wanted, and I’m tired of it, Dwight. I’m tired of it. When we get back to Headland, either we get married or you can go find someone else to make excuses to.’

He stood with his mouth open, stunned at the depth of her hurt and anger over his continuing postponement of their wedding. ‘But … but … but I’ve told you time and again that I’m totally committed to you!’

‘But you’re not!’ she shot back. ‘Words are cheap. Commitment is a ring, Dwight. As long as I don’t have a ring on this finger,’ she held up her left hand, ‘there is no commitment. I want to be your wife, not just the woman held in thrall by your endless hot air promises, always and forever waiting for a real, tangible commitment.’

Again he stared at her, at a total loss for words. Then he said, again, ‘I’m sorry. I ain’t been seein’ it that way. We’ll get married just as soon as we get back to town.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, suddenly too far spent even to talk any longer. ‘I have to get to sleep now. I’m about ready to collapse.’

He stepped forward and put his arms around her. She leaned against him, but did not return his embrace. He said, ‘I put our blankets over there, so’s we’d be as close together as I figured would be seemly.’

Without a word she walked away from him. She lowered herself to the blankets, pulled off her shoes, covered herself and turned on her side, her back toward the blankets he had arranged for himself. She was asleep in less than two minutes.

He was not so fortunate. He lay in the fading light of the early evening, her words, ‘… either we get married or you can go find someone else to make excuses to,’ kept echoing over and over in his mind.

He stared at her back, so close to him but suddenly so very far away. The thought that he might lose her left a hollow feeling in the middle of his stomach that physically hurt. ‘I really didn’t know,’ he said silently, half a dozen times, before his own fatigue wrapped a soothing cloak of sleep around everything.