Messenger by Moonlight
man like Emmet and help him out.” When Annie remained quiet, he said, “There’s more to it than just making money. We’ll be making
history
. Think of it, Annie. The president in Washington City telegraphs a letter, and ten days after it leaves St. Jo., the governor of California is reading it. Ten
days
. Not weeks.
Days
.” He paused. “Only about eighty men in the history of the world will ever be able to say they were good enough to be part of that first ride. Imagine it, Annie—carrying a letter written by the president’s own hand. Emmet and I will be telling our grandchildren about it when we’re old.”
    Grandchildren.
It was the first time Frank had ever come close to talking about getting married and having children. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Frank this excited about anything.
    He ducked his head and looked her in the eye. “We’re supposed to report to the Pony office at that fancy hotel in a little while—Emmet, Jake, and me. To take the rider’s oath.” Again, he nudged her shoulder. “You’ll come and witness it—right?”
    They’re going. No matter what I say. It’s done.
Annie’s throat constricted. Frank reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Please. We came to St. Jo. for a fresh start. This is it. We’llearn enough money to get a little house here in town. Emmet will be able to get married. He’ll have a hope of putting a down payment on some good land.” He arched one eyebrow and adjusted the kerchief knotted about his neck as if it were a fancy cravat. “I’ll be famous. Everybody wins.” He winked at her.
    Annie had never been able to stay angry with Frank for long. He was just too… charming. “It’s a lot to take in. Especially when we didn’t so much as talk about it before you both took the job.” She cleared her throat to keep her voice from wavering. “I thought we’d stay together. Not always, of course, but—at least for a little while. I didn’t think you’d both go off on your own all at once. So soon.”
    Frank frowned. “Wait a minute—you thought—you think Emmet and me—that we were leaving you here in St. Jo.? Alone?” Palms up, he waggled both hands back and forth. “No, no. That is
not
gonna happen. Clearwater’s more than just a stage stop. Like I said, it’s a trading post. A blacksmith and a crew work the place, spring through fall. The station keeper needs a cook. We got you the job—and you’ll stay as long as we ride for the Pony Express.”
    Speechless, Annie just stared at him.
    Frank leaned close and nudged her shoulder. “You didn’t think you’d get rid of us that easy, did you? You’re going with us.”
    She twisted about so she could face him. “You got me a job. Cooking. At a place that’s hundreds of miles from St. Jo. Without talking to me?”
    The furrow between his brows deepened. “You were upset when you thought we were leaving without you. Now you’re upset because we aren’t?” He reached for both her hands and gave them a little shake. “It’s only for a couple of years—atthe most. We’ll save our money, and when we all come back to St. Jo.—
together
—we won’t need any sour-faced landlady’s charity. Luvina’s pa won’t be able to stand in Emmet’s way. We’ll get you a little house and I’ll paint the trim. By the way, is it still blue?” The black-and-white cat came into view. It sat, looking first at Annie and then at Frank. “New friend?” he asked. Letting go of her hands, he picked up a long piece of straw, and enticed the animal to play.
    At the sound of a distant steam whistle, Annie looked across the tops of the buildings toward the river just in time to see a puff of steam dissipate. Beyond the river, the rolling landscape was just beginning to turn green. With a sigh, she asked, “You said two years at most?”
    “At most.”
    “And then we’re coming back to St. Jo.”
    “Isn’t that what I just said? ‘… when we all come back to St.

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