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wanted to talk to me about, Lorna?” her mother prompted.
    Lorna turned from the window, a little startled by the question. She had been searching for a way to lead up to the subject. “I … was thinking about what Benteen said last night—about moving to Montana.” It seemed the best place to begin.
    â€œIt seems so far away, doesn’t it?” Her mother’s eyes looked misty. “Your father and I are going to miss you terribly.”
    â€œI think I’m a little scared,” she admitted. “I thought we’d live close by. I’m not sure I want to go there.”
    â€œA woman’s place is with her husband,” her mother reminded her gently. “You still want to marry him, don’t you?”
    â€œYes.” Lorna didn’t have to hesitate about that. “It’s just that …” She touched her fingertips to her lips, remembering the rough pressure of his kiss. “There’re so many things I don’t know,” she sighed at last.
    â€œEvery bride feels the same way.” Her mother smiled. “And we all seem to have to learn on our own. I remember I was the worst cook when your father andI were married. It’s a miracle he survived that first year.”
    â€œI think I can manage to cook and keep house. But what about when we have a baby?” That uncomfortable feeling ran through her again. “I mean, presuming that we do have a baby.”
    â€œI hope you will. I hope you have several.”
    â€œI don’t know.” Lorna turned away in vague agitation. “Sometimes when I think about…” She stopped, unable to finish the sentence.
    â€œIt probably won’t be easy in the beginning,” her mother said. “But after you are married awhile, I think you’ll be more able to accept the idea, especially if you want children.”
    â€œI … suppose.” Lorna was troubled by her mother’s reply. It seemed to confirm the girl talk at school. Sex was something a proper lady endured. There wasn’t any enjoyment in it, not unless the girl was immoral.
    It was better if she didn’t mention to her mother the way Benteen had made her feel. The excitement that sent those funny little tremors through her body. She’d simply have to learn to overcome them. She wanted to be a proper wife.
    It was midmorning when Benteen reached his father’s Cee Bar Ranch. Once they’d talked about a partnership, but the Crash of ’73 had wiped out that dream. The hard facts of earning a living had forced Benteen to work elsewhere while his father continued his attempt to save the ranch. Last winter’s blizzards had virtually written the end to that dream—the blizzards and Judd Boston.
    Benteen had had only a vague suspicion about worked-over brands until he’d voiced it yesterday to Boston. Benteen was fairly sure now that the banker had been taking a cow here, a steer there. There were a couple of unscrupulous characters on his payroll, andBenteen believed he’d found the reason why. It was unlikely he could prove it. He wasn’t even sure how much difference it would make if he could. At the most, his father had probably lost fifty head over the past five years. The trouble was, his operation was so small, fifty head hurt him. Numbers—that was the secret.
    Benteen had observed closely Judd Boston’s operation at the Ten Bar. He’d learned a lot, and he knew cattle. Judd Boston had inadvertently taught him business sense, growth, and markets.
    Halting the gray gelding in front of the barn, he dismounted and stripped his saddle and gear from the horse. He slapped it hard on the rump, sending it down the rutted lane they had just traveled. The horse would show up in a couple of days at the livery stable, wanting its ration of oats and corn.
    After putting the saddle and bridle away, Benteen carried his gear to the house, a simple white frame house that was