A great fist seemed to have closed about her throat, and for a moment
she could not breathe. After a time her breath came back, and her
voice. But Joe was already going on, leaning forward tensely in his
chair, his face eager and alive.
"There's land in the west, Emma! Land for us! For Tad, Joe, Alfred and
Carlyle! Land for whoever Barbara and baby Emma might marry! It's for
the _taking_!"
"There's land right here, Joe," she managed to say. "Our own land."
There was quick impatience in his voice as he repeated her words, "Our
own land? I'll be able to pay Elias Dorrance $50 this fall, and out of
that $40 goes for interest, and $10 off on what we owe."
"Still, it's something," she said hastily. "Ten off is something! Little
by little, Joe, we'll make the land our own."
"How many years?" he demanded almost angrily. "How many more years will
it take?"
She could not answer him, not only because she did not know the answer
but because the question wasn't really a question. It was an accusation.
He seemed to be accusing her of unwillingness to see something that was
plain enough to Joe, that was right out there in front of them.
He was looking at her now, his whole face full of questioning.
She avoided his eyes. "Let's think about it," she said. "The plowing and
seeding's already done for this year. Let's think about it this year,
and come next spring we'll talk about it again."
"Come next spring?" he asked vaguely. All of the glow faded from his
face. Even his lips grew pale, and in the sudden quiet she could hear
his breathing, quick and shallow and weary. He seemed spent, as though
all the weariness of many weeks of work had been piled upon him all at
once in this moment.
He rose and shuffled to the window. Directly overhead a lone star
glittered, cold and unyielding, and he watched it silently.
Emma's heart ached for him, but what could she do? How could he ask her
to do this terrible thing, to pull up her roots again and turn her back
on all that they had so painfully, so hopefully gathered together into
this little house? She couldn't do it, not even for Joe, even though
she loved him as dearly as she loved life itself.
She went to him and stood beside him at the window. Soon he put his arm
about her. She dropped her head on his shoulder and a shudder went
through her, so that she held to him convulsively.
"Forgive me, Joe," she whispered. "I'm not brave and strong the way you
think. I'm afraid, Joe. I love this house, and I'm frightened to leave
it."
He held her close, and could find no words. A door had been closed
between them, somehow, and he could not get through to her, to explain
to her about the west. Maybe another year. Maybe....