He shook his head. “I’m riding on.”
His heart was too heavy for Christmas. He’d flop in a sheltered ravine, continue heading south when the storm had blown itself out. He hoped the storm in himself would blow itself out soon, too. He doubted it. Despite the gold, Delbert Clifton’s family weighed heavy on his shoulders.
“Yakima,” she called above the wind, leaning beseechingly over the porch rail, “this is no night to be out. Come on in and join us. It’s Christmas!”
“I’ll be riding on. Good luck to you, Glendolene. I’m sorry about all of it.”
He booted Wolf ahead. Halfway down the street, he kicked the stallion into a gallop. The large, dark buildings on both sides of the street slid past him. So did the lit cabins where families celebrated around food-laden tables and roaring fires. The stormy night swept him up and embraced him.
He heard the faint cry behind him: “Yakima!”
But he did not hear what followed: “The child is yours!”
He rode farther and farther into the cold, snowy night.
He did not look back.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Frank Leslie is the pseudonym of a prolific and acclaimed writer who has penned more than sixty fast-action Western novels. He lives in Colorado.
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