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“Would you like something to eat?”

“Just some water. Or something with sugar in it. Anything sweet. I don’t know why I have this feeling inside me, this humming in my blood. What did the doctor say when I checked out?”

“He said good-bye. Stop talking about the hospital. That’s all behind us now.”

He turned on his back, forcing her to look into his face. “Maggie,” he said, not as a question.

“Yes?” she replied.

“You’re Maggie. That’s all. My head wasn’t working right for a while.”

“It’s good to be silly sometimes,” she said. “When I was a little girl, I was punished for being silly. My father didn’t like little girls being little girls. His daughter was supposed to be serious and dutiful. If not, he’d find ways to hurt her without ever laying his hands on her.”

“What kind of work was your father in?”

“I don’t talk about him much. Or even think about him. Bad ole me. He’s been feeding the worms a long time now. I think he found the right role in life.”

He raised himself on his elbow and looked into her eyes. He had no idea what thoughts she was thinking or if she had any idea how her words could frighten. “A French colonel warned me in a field hospital.”

Maggie’s face darkened, as though the shadows on the canyons’ walls had moved across it. “Warned you about what?”

“Morphine.”

“That’s all bugaboo. It comes from a plant. It’s a gift of the earth.”

“So is poison ivy.”

“Don’t be clever. Cleverness is for people who have nothing to say.”

“I feel like I have a fever. I can see flashes of light inside my head when I close my eyes.”

“You have to forget the war. My grandfather was at Shiloh. He could never stop talking about it.”

“Maybe we can go up to the dining car in a little while. Is it far?”

“Just one car up. I’ll get the porter to help us. We’ll have a delightful meal, then we’ll be in Texas and you can leave all your bad memories behind.”

“I don’t think it works like that. It’ll just take a little time. Then I’ll be fine.”

“See? I told you. You’re a dear man. You make me twenty years younger.”

“I remember my mother saying you were an outlaw woman.”

“Do I look like an outlaw?”

“Outlaw women are not beautiful?”

She pressed his head against her breast and kissed his hair. “I just want one promise from you. It’s not a lot.”

“I don’t think making promises to people is a good practice.”

“Don’t ever turn your back on me. You’re young and you’ll make mistakes, and I’m talking about mistakes with other women, but it will only be temporary. Then you’ll come back home, and everything will be all right, and I’ll forgive you because you’re young. But you must never renounce me, or call me old, or say I’m not a part of your life anymore.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re young and you think you’ll stay that way. We’re out of the Pass now. We’re about to see a dead volcano and miles of prairie with antelope and deer on it. You should see the sunrise here in the fall. The hillsides are still green and look soaked in blood just as the sun breaks over the hills. Isn’t the natural world a grand place, Ishmael? Clear and pure and free of mankind’s evil. Hold me.”

“Do you know you’re shaking?”

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