"Other people are doing it with children," he said doggedly.
"You can't make me do it!" she said wildly. "I'm not going to leave this house--not ever. We'll make out somehow. If need be, Pete Domley will take you on for a year--he owes you that after what happened."
The mighty storm that had been brewing in him broke now, and he lashed out at her. "I'm not going to be a hired man again, do you hear! I finished with that, and I'm not going back to it!"
His voice, harsh and loud, shattered Emma's self-control. She had always known that Joe could be angry, but never before had his anger been directed against herself. She went white, swayed for a moment, and then went unsteadily to the window. She stood clinging to the sill, staring out into the blackness.
He watched her in silence. Then he went to her, turned her around and made her look at him.
"Emma," he said through the pain in his throat. "You don't want me to be a hired man again, do you, Emma?"
Her eyes filled with tears and she tried to speak. No sound came, but she shook her head, No.
His voice grew humble now. He was deeply puzzled, and he begged her for an answer that he could understand. "Why are you so much against the west? Tell me truly. Tell me."
She found her voice. "I'm not against the west. I'm against leaving our home. I want to stay here. I--I hoped we could live here forever. I--I'm afraid, Joe."
"You've never been afraid before, Emma. We've been through a lot together, a lot of struggle and a lot of worry. We worried when baby Emma was sick, and when Tad fell out of the tree. It's always come out all right."
"That was different," she stammered. "We--we were here among our own people. If we needed help, we could get help."
"Emma," he whispered. "Emma--I can take care of you. I can take care of the children."
She clutched him, buried her face in his neck.
"Emma," he said, "when we left your father, you were worried then, but you faced up to it, and life was much better afterward."
"We were younger then," she said. "Oh, Joe--we were much younger, and we had only Barbara. Now we've got six! Think of it, Joe! Six children, out in the wilderness!"
He forced her away from him. With his hand under her chin he forced her to look at him again. From the depths of his restless soul, from the center of his self, his yearning for an independent life poured out through his eyes and entreated her to understand him. His voice was hoarse with the intensity of his longing.