The Last Straw Part 27

The mountains which had been brown and saffron when Jane Hunter came to take possession of her ranch grew tinted with green as gra.s.ses sprouted under the coaxing sun. Pinons were edged with lighter tints, contrasting sharply with the deep color of older growth. Service bushes turned cream color with bloom and sage put out new growth; calves, high-tailed and venturesome, frolicked between frequent meals from swollen udders, birds nested and shy mountain flowers completed their scant cycle.

No life remained arrested and with the rest the girl developed. She took on a more robust color, her eyes which had always been clear and cool, possessed a different look and a thin sprinkling of tiny freckles appeared across her nose. She had taken to the ways of the mountains easily. Her modish clothing was discarded and she wore brightly colored shirts, a brimmed hat, drab riding skirt and the smallest pair of boots that had ever been manufactured in that country.

Two-Bits was wide-eyed in his enthusiasm.

"My gosh, Reverend!" he whispered, "look at them boots! Ain't they th'

grandest little things you ever seen?... Gosh, they're too little for any spurs she can buy, ain't they? _Gosh_ ..."--in helpless admiration.

Two-Bits and the Reverend had something on. This was evident from the manner in which they kept apart from the others. Each evening they would sit on a wagon seat or perch on a corral or Azariah would stand near while his brother groomed his little horse, n.i.g.g.e.r, and they would talk, low and confidently, the Reverend gesticulating and Two-Bits looking far away and talking laboriously as though he were memorizing something.

The homely fellow took several mysterious trips to town and once he borrowed ten dollars from Beck and offered a buckskin bridle as security, which the other waved away with affectionate curses.

Hepburn had been commissioned to talk with Cole, the nester, and determine his plans as they might affect the HC. This took him away from the ranch repeatedly ... so many times, in fact, that it gave Beck one more thing to wonder about. Also, there was a letter for Hepburn, arriving a day or two after his return with the stolen horses, which sent him suddenly to Ute Crossing; thereafter he went frequently.

There seemed no way around the potential difficulty which the nester presented and, as one of her last resorts, Jane sent Tom to the Crossing to look up the record of the filing himself and to confer with the one remaining attorney in the town. He announced his going and Two-Bits, hearing, asked him to bring back a package which would be waiting there. When Tom returned that night he handed the gawky lad a small parcel which he immediately stuffed into his shirt and carried to the supper table.

"Them your jooles?" Oliver asked.

"None of your gol-darned business!"

"Ah, come on, old timer, an' let us in on it," the other pleaded. "I'll bet it's a present for your best girl."

"If you got to know, it's corn plasters for th' corns on your brains, Jimmy," Two-Bits countered.

He hurried through his meal and from the table and, with the Reverend, walked down toward the creek where they went through their usual performance, this time, however, with less prompting from the clergyman. Then, brushing the dust from his shirt, adjusting his scarf, Two-Bits walked nervously toward the ranch house.

Jane answered his knock with a call to enter. He stepped in with the package in his hand, but as he removed his hat the parcel dropped to the floor and when he regained an erect position after recovering it his face was fiery red.

"What's your trouble tonight, Two-Bits?" Jane asked, approaching him.

"In," he began and stopped to clear his throat. He swallowed with great difficulty. "In--In recognition of your--your G.o.d--" He coughed and swallowed once more.

_"What?"_--in amazement.

"In recognition of your G.o.d--your G.o.d given beauty, an'

estim--estimable qualifications--"

He ran a finger inside his collar and dropped his hat. Perspiration stood on his lip in beads and his dismayed eyes roved the room. He moved his feet nervously.

"In recognition of your G.o.d--" he began again, but broke short:

"h.e.l.l, ma'am," he exploded, "my brother taught me a fine speech--

"Here!"--holding the package toward her with an unsteady hand and a great relief coming into his eyes. "I found this in th' road an'

thought mebby you might want 'em."

Controlling her desire to laugh at his confusion Jane took the package and turned it over in her hands.

"What is it, Two-Bits? Why do you bring it to me?"

"I can't use it--'em. I thought ... I ..." he began, backing rapidly toward the door, moving with accelerated speed as he put distance between them.

"Two-Bits, you wait!" she commanded. "I'm going to find out what this is before you go."

He looked about in a fresh agony of embarra.s.sment but her order had rendered him unable to move. Jane broke the string, took off the wrapping and opened a paper box. Within reposed a pair of spurs, as small spurs as her boots were small boots. They were beautiful products of some mountain forge, one-piece steel, heavily engraved by hand, silver plated. Small silver chains and hand-tooled straps were attached and as she held them up the delicate rowels jingled like tiny bells.

"Two-Bits!" she cried. "Aren't they beautiful?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and made for the door again.

She caught him by the arm that time, else he would have fled, and she made him look at her.

"Two-Bits, you lied to me! You didn't find these on the road, now, did you?"

"Well, that is.... Not exactly, ma'am,"--weakly.

"Where did they come from?"

"A fella, he made 'em an' give 'em to me an' they was too small for me--"

"Don't you tell me another single lie! _Where_ did you get them?"

"Well ... I had 'em made,"--swallowing again, and _very_ weakly.

"Two-Bits!"--seizing his rough, cold hand while a suggestion of tears came into her eyes. "You had these made for me? Why, bless your heart, I've never had a finer gift before. And to think--

"You're a dear!"

"Oh, my gosh!" he whimpered, and despite her detaining hand, fled the disquieting presence.

Of all men in that country, Two-Bits was the only one who openly accepted Jane Hunter and his devotion was caused by an awed appreciation of her beauty. The others, even her own riders, remained stolidly skeptical of her ability to measure up to the task she had undertaken and when men talked of the business of the country they unconsciously spoke of the prestige of the HC as a thing of the past.

Hepburn had brought back some of her property that was being driven off but he had not halted attempts to make away with her horses and cattle.

There were rumors, vague but persistent, of other depredations and those who best knew the ways of the cattle country awaited that time when the situation must reach a crisis, when Jane Hunter must be put to the ordeal that would test her mettle.

She was yet unconscious of much of this for her urge to make a place for herself centered on penetrating the callousness of the one man she wanted to impress most of all. He remained aloof, watching her either with that tantalizing amus.e.m.e.nt or a subtle challenge to win his open friendship. There were moments when, as on that night after their drive to Ute Crossing, she wanted to throw herself on him, to beg, to plead that he lower his reserve and give her a place ... a place in his heart.

But that, reason told her, would be the last thing to win him. She must trust to the force of her personality to drive her way into his life....

Occasionally he would talk, for she offered a sympathetic audience to the things he had to say but never did their conversation become intimate; the subjects he discussed were invariably abstract and impersonal. While listening she studied the man, striving to define that quality about him which lay behind his reserve and drew her on.

She could not seize and a.n.a.lyze it.... He was, aside from obvious minor qualities, a closed book.

Still she saw him at night patrolling the cottonwoods before he slept!

She could not know what went on in the heart of that man, of the fight he waged with himself, of the struggle he made to stick to his creed: never to take a chance. He did not know that she was aware of those nightly vigils. The first had been on that night after he had played with her pride and her high spirits. Returned to the bunk house he had suddenly seen her not a smart, capable stranger but as a girl, alone, facing a new life, surrounded by strange people and unfriendly influences. He sensed a pity for her and walked back to look about the place and see that all was well, as he might have watched over a sleeping child.