Matt Jensen, The Last Mountain Man Savage Territory

“No, no, I could never do that,” Hendel said. “I bought this for you because I consider you my friend, and I hope you feel the same way about me.”

“Oh, indeed I do,” Cynthia said. “I consider you a very, very dear friend.”

“I’m glad.”

“May I read one of the sonnets to you?” she asked.

“Of course.”

Smiling, Cynthia raised the book, cleared her throat, then began to read:

If thou must love me, let it be for nought

Except for love’s sake only. Do not say

“I love her for her smile—her look—her way

Of speaking gently,—for a trick of thought

That falls in well with mine, and certes brought

A sense of pleasant ease on such a day”—

For these things in themselves, Beloved, may

Be changed, or change for thee,—and love, so wrought,

May be unwrought so. Neither love me for

Thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry,—

A creature might forget to weep, who bore

Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!

But love me for love’s sake, that evermore

Thou may’st love on, through love’s eternity.

Cynthia drew the book to her chest, then looked up at Hendel. “Isn’t that just the most beautiful thing you have ever heard?” she asked.

Hendel felt a flush come over him, and he cleared his throat to try and force it away.

“Yes,” he said. “I must confess that Elizabeth Barrett Browning does have a way with words.”

“I think reading a poem aloud gives it much more life than merely looking at words lying dormant on the page. But Jay would never let me read anything aloud to him—he says he doesn’t have time for such nonsense. Thank you for allowing me to do that, Mr. Hendel, my dear friend.”

Again, Hendel cleared his throat. Then, looking around, he saw Matt Jensen coming into the hotel.

“Oh, look, there is Mr. Jensen,” he said, thankful to be able to extricate himself from a situation that was growing increasingly more uncomfortable for him.

“Mr. Jensen!” Cynthia called. “Hello!”

Matt set his bag down, then came over to greet Cynthia and Hendel.

“Hello,” he said. “So, you have chosen this hotel as well, have you? That tells me the sheriff’s suggestion was a good one.”

“Oh, yes, I think you will be very pleased with it,” Cynthia replied. “I know that we are.”

“Really? Even Mr. Bixby is pleased with it?” Matt asked with a barely suppressed grin.

Cynthia laughed, a rich, deep-throated laugh. “Ah,” she said. “How well you know my husband.”

“Have you found the brother of your friend yet?” Hendel asked. In one of their more private talks, Matt had shared with Hendel his reason for coming to Phoenix.

“I think so,” Matt said. “I haven’t seen him yet, but the sheriff told me where to find him—and it has to be the same man.”

“Will you be leaving as soon as you complete your business?” Cynthia asked. “If so, please stop by and tell us good-bye before you go.”

“I’m not planning to leave right away. In fact, I’ve had my horse sent here,” Matt said.

“Oh, how nice,” Cynthia said. “Then we will be seeing each other again.”

“Sir, are you checking in?” the desk clerk called.

“Yes,” Matt said. Touching the brim of his hat, he smiled at Cynthia and Hendel, then walked over to the desk and signed the register.

After Matt checked into the hotel, he went over to the Sundown Corral to check on his horse.

“Yes, Mr. Jensen, your horse arrived four days ago,” the stable keeper said. “I must say, he is as fine an animal as has ever boarded with us.”

“Yes, thank you, Spirit has been a very good horse,” Matt said.

Matt went back into the stall area. When Spirit saw him, he began nodding his head and pawing at the ground.