Winning the Wilderness Part 34

Thaine had never kissed any girl except Jo, had never cared enough for any other girl to think about it. But tonight there suddenly swept through his mind the thought of the joy that was waiting for some man to whom Leigh would give that privilege, and without any self-a.n.a.lysis (boys at nineteen a.n.a.lyze little) he began to hate the man who should come sometime to claim the privilege.

"Leigh, don't you ever feel jealous of Jo?" He didn't know why he asked the question.

Leigh gave a little laugh.

"Ought I?" she inquired, looking up. "She hasn't anything I want."

The deep violet eyes under the long lashes were beautiful without the flashing and sparkle of Jo Bennington's coquettish gaze.

"That was an idiotic thing to ask," Thaine admitted. "Why should you, sure enough?"

"I wish I had some of those lilies." Leigh changed the subject abruptly.

"Hold the horse, then, and I'll get them. I keep a hooked knife on a long stick hidden down here on purpose to cut them for me mummy, on occasion."

Thaine jumped out of the buggy and ran down to the end of the driveway where the creamy lilies lay on the dark waters near the bank.

"Be careful of your dress," he said, as he came back and handed a bunch of blossoms with their trailing wet stems up to Leigh. "Do you remember your Prince Quippi off in China, and your love letters, with old Gra.s.s River for postal service? Will you send me a letter down the old Kaw River when I go to the Kansas University this fall?"

"A sunflower letter like I used to send to Quippi?" Leigh asked.

"Any kind of a letter. I'll miss you more than anything here, except my beloved ch.o.r.es about the farm," Thaine responded.

"Jo will write all the letters you'll have time to answer," Leigh a.s.serted.

"Oh, she says she's going to Lawrence too, if her pa-paw is elected County Treasurer. We'll be in the University together. You'll just have to write to me, Leighlie."

"Not unless you go to China. I'll send you a letter there like I used to send to Prince Quippi." There was a sudden pathos in her tone.

"Will you? Oh, Leigh, will you?" Thaine asked, gaily, looking down into her face, white and dainty in the soft light. "Quippi never answered one of them, but I would if I was over there, and I may go yet. There's no telling."

Leigh looked up with her eyes full of pain.

"Why, I didn't mean to tease you," Thaine declared.

"Thaine, Pryor Gaines is to start to China tomorrow. He's been planning it for weeks and weeks. He's going to be a missionary and he'll never come back again--and--and there is so much for me to do when he is gone. He has been such a kind helper all these years. His refined taste has meant so much to me in the study of painting, and I need him now."

Thaine gave a low whistle of surprise. Leigh's eyes were full of tears, but Thaine would not have dared to take her in his arms, as he had taken Jo Bennington.

"Little neighbor, we've been playmates nearly all our lives. Can't I help you in some way?" he asked gently.

"Yes, you can," Leigh replied in a low voice. "There are some things I must do for Uncle Jim and when you are doing _for_ people you can't tell them nor depend on their advice. When Pryor is gone, may I ask you sometimes what to do? I won't bother you often."

Asher Aydelot had declared that Alice Leigh was the prettiest girl in Ohio in her day.

The pink-tinted creamy lilies looking up from the still surface of the lakelet were not so fair as the pink-tinted face of Alice Leigh's daughter, framed in the soft brown shadows of her hair with a hint of gold in the ripples at the white temples. And behind the face, looking out through long-lashed violet eyes, was loving sacrifice and utter self-forgetfulness.

Thaine was nineteen and wise to give advice. A sudden thrill caught his pulse, mid-beat.

"Is that all? Can't I _do_ something?" he asked eagerly.

"That's a great deal. And n.o.body can _do_ for anybody. We have to _do_ for ourselves."

"You are not doing anything for Uncle Jim, then, I am to understand,"

Thaine said.

But Leigh ignored his thrust, saying:

"When Pryor leaves, he doesn't want to say good-by to anybody, not even to Uncle Jim. He says China is only a little way off, just behind the purple notches over there. I'm going to take him to the train tomorrow and then I'm going on to Wykerton on business. After that, I may need lots of advice."

"Wykerton's a joint-ridden place, but John Jacobs has put a good cla.s.s of farmers around it. He's such an old saloon hater, Hans Wyker'd like to kill him. But say, why not tell me now what you are about, so I can be looking up references and former judicial decisions handed down in similar cases?" Thaine asked lightly.

"Because it's too long a story, and I must get Pryor to the eight o'clock limited," Leigh said.

The crowing of chickens in a far away farmyard came faintly at that moment, and Thaine with a strange new sense of the importance of living, sent the black horses cantering down the trail to the old Cloverdale Ranch house.

Jo Bennington slept late. She had been up late. She had danced often and she had waited for Thaine's homecoming. Yet, when she came downstairs in a white morning dress all sprinkled with little pink sprays, there was hardly a hint of weariness in her young face or in her quick footsteps.

"I'm glad you stayed, Jo," Mrs. Aydelot greeted her. "This is 'the morning after the night before,' and, as usual, the desertions equal the wounded and imprisoned. Asher and the men had to go across the river early to look after the fences and washouts on the lower quarter. And Rosie Gimpke decided to go home this morning as soon as breakfast was done. So it is left for us to get the house over the party. Not so easy as getting ready for it, especially without help."

"Where's Thaine?" Jo asked carelessly, though her face was a tattler.

"He took some colts over to John Jacobs' ranch. He had Rosie ride one and he rode another and led two. They were a sight. I hoped you might see them go by your window. Thaine had his hat stuck on like a Dutchman's and he puffed himself out and made up a regular Wyker face as he jogged along.

And Rosie plumped herself down on that capering colt as though she shifted all responsibility for accidents upon it. The more it pranced about, the firmer she sat and the less concerned she was. I heard Thaine calling out, 'Breakers ahead!' as he watched her bring it back into the road in front of him with a sort of side kick of her foot."

"What made Gimpke leave?" Jo asked, to cover her disappointment.

"She cut her hand badly last night. She insisted at first that she would help me today and go home later to stay till it gets well. Then she suddenly changed her mind. Possibly it was the spare-room bed," Virginia said laughing. "When I told her not to wake you when she made up the other beds, she suddenly got homesick, her hand grew worse and she flew the premises. I'll run up and attend to that bed while you finish your breakfast," and Virginia left the room.

At that moment young Todd Stewart appeared on the side porch before the dining room door.

"Thaine stopped long enough to ask me to come over and move furniture for his mother," Todd sang out. "He doesn't think you were made to lift cupboards and carry chairs downstairs."

"Oh, it's his mother he's thinking about," Jo said with pretty petulance.

In truth, she was angry with Thaine for taking Leigh home last night and for leaving home today.

"No, it's his mother he's ceased to love," Todd said, coming inside. "He said he'd quit the old home and was moving his goods up to Wolf Creek for keeps. And with that fat tow-headed Gimpke girl sitting on the frisky bay colt as unconcerned as a b.u.mp on a log, it was the funniest sight I ever saw."

Jo tossed her head contemptuously.

"Say, Curly Locks, Curly Locks, you ought to always sit on a cushion and sew a fine seam and wear a dress to breakfast with those little pink du-dads scattered over it."

"Not if I was a farmer's wife," Jo responded quickly.

"Oh, Jo, do you really want to be a city girl?" Todd's face was frankly sorrowful. "Could you never be satisfied on a farm?"

"I don't believe I ever could," Jo said prettily.