'It's a fine school,' I said.
'Can I ride Beau back by myself tonight?'
'You're the best, Pete,' I said.
'He's a mighty good little boy, that's what he is,' Temple said, and hugged him against her.
'I'm gonna ride Beau out on the hardpan, where that Chisholm Trail is at,' Pete said, and grinned as though he had already begun an extravagant adventure.
Temple's eyes settled on mine, and I looked at the redness of her mouth and wanted to touch her hands.
Outside, I heard Beau's hooves thumping on the earth and I dipped a strip of buffalo steak in catsup that was as thick as blood and for just a moment, in my mind's eye, I saw dust clouds filled with hail swirling across the high plains, and I thought of Comanche Indians and saddle preachers and trail drovers and outlaws and was sure that somewhere beyond the rim of the world Great-grandpa Sam and the Rose of Cimarron turned briefly in their saddles and held up their hands in farewell.
* * *