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You have found work with the stagecoach company. On very short notice. On Sunday we’re still together, and the next morning I walk you to the stage depot. Not that I don’t realise things must be this way. We need to finish paying for our house, and occasionally to get something inside us as well. That matters – doing something matters. Both of us need some variety in our working lives now and then. And yet …

Sitting on the box, you take a bandana out of your pocket and tie it around your neck. It’s a touch of colour that stands out against your black clothes. And – it’s mine.

“Say, you’ve got something that belongs to me.”

You turn around and give me a broad smile. Then you let the horses break into a trot.

“Do I? Then catch me.”

When you act like that, you seem ten times younger. I resist the impulse to make a fool of myself by chasing and grabbing you. You may need the bandana on those dusty roads. I don’t mind.

Back from Santa Fe, you bring me a new one. And I let you keep mine.