Like something carried on the wind that you couldn't stop and couldn't outrun. She finished evaluating the cornmeal. She chose the better grade. She put it in the crate she was building and moved to the next item on her list. What she couldn't control was whether Gideon had heard.
She found out 20 minutes later when she brought the full crate to the counter and Harker started tallying it up. Gideon was standing to one side and the two men from the back of the store had moved closer in the way that trouble moves when it thinks it's being invited. The heavier of the two, a man with a reddish beard who smelled of the saloon next door, even at this hour, addressed Gideon directly. "You hear what I said, Rusk, about your cook?" Gideon looked at him. The look was not aggressive.
It was something colder. I heard you, he said. "And it's none of your affair what I do at Blackthornne Ranch." He looked back at Harker. Add it up. Redbeard wasn't finished.
A man's business becomes the town's business when he lets a known thief handle his food. Your hands talk, Rusk. People are wondering about your judgment. The store went quiet in the way small spaces go quiet when they're waiting for something to happen. Gideon did not raise his voice.
What's your name? He said to Redbeard. The man blinked. Colton. Gideon turned fully to face him.
You got proof of what you're saying? It's what people are. Proof, Gideon said again. Yes or no? Colton's jaw worked.
Word from Cheyenne. Word from Cheyenne is not proof. Gideon picked up the crate. He looked at Harker. I'll be back for the flour sacks.
He looked at Rosalie once briefly and headed for the door. Rosalie paid for the smaller items, pocketed the change, and followed him out. They loaded the wagon without speaking. When they were on the road back to Blackthornne, the settlement shrinking behind them, she said, "You didn't have to do that. I know.
It's going to make things more complicated for you in town. Things are already complicated," he said. And clicked the horse forward. And that was the end of that conversation. But something had shifted, something small, and Rosalie was careful not to make too much of it, but it was there.