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She ought not go to meet Lin Slone any more.
"But then--the race!" she murmured. "I couldn't give that up. . . . And oh!
I'm afraid the harm is done! What can I do?"
After the race--what then? To be sure, all of Bostil's Ford would know she had
been meeting Slone out in the sage, training his horse. What would people say?
"Dad will simply be radiant, IF he can buy Wildfire--and a fiend if he can't,"
she muttered.
Lucy saw that her own impulsiveness had amounted to daring. She had gone too
far. She excused that--for she had a rider's blood--she was Bostil's girl. But
she had, in her wildness and joy and spirit, spent many hours alone with a
rider, to his undoing. She could not excuse that. She was ashamed. What would
he say when she told him she could see him no more? The thought made her weak.
He would accept and go his way--back to that lonely desert, with only a horse.
"Wildfire doesn't love him!" she said.
And the scarlet fired her neck and cheek and temple. That leap of blood seemed
to release a riot of emotions.


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