She unlaced his pants and slid them down his hips, examining him as he stood before her naked. Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter. In any place her beauty would have been an uncommon thing. “Then I will do what I can,” Anna promised. Everything. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. ’ ‘Oui, mais—safe. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting.
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