Читать книгу The One-Way Trail: A story of the cattle country - Cullum Ridgwell - Страница 6

Elia was staring at his sister with wide, expectant eyes. Suspense was evidently his dominant feeling at the moment. A suspense which gave him a sickly feeling in the pit of the stomach. It was the apprehension of a prisoner awaiting a verdict; the nauseating sensation of one who sees death facing him, with the chances a thousand to one against him. A half-plaited rawhide rope was lying in his lap; the hobby of making these his sister had persuaded him to turn to profitable account. He was expert in their manufacture, and found a ready market for his wares on the neighboring ranches.

Eve was staring out of the window considering, her pretty face seriously cast, her eyes far away. Will Henderson, his boyishly handsome face moodily set, was standing beside the work-table that occupied the centre of the living-room, the fingers of one hand restlessly groping among the litter of dress stuffs lying upon it. He was awaiting her answer to a question of his, awaiting it in suspense, like Elia, but with different feelings.

Nor did the girl seem inclined to hurry. To her mind a lot depended on her answer. Her acquiescence meant the giving up of all the little features that had crept into her struggling years of independence. There was her brother. She must think for his welfare. There was her business, worked up so laboriously. There was the possible removal from Barnriff to the world of hills and valleys, which was Will’s world. There were so many things to think of,–yet–yet she knew her answer beforehand. She loved, and she was a woman, worldly-wise, but unworldly.

The evening was drawing in, and the soft shadows were creeping out of the corners of the little room. There was a gentle mellowness in the twilight which softened the darns in the patchwork picture the place presented. This room was before all things her shop; and, in consequence, comfort and the picturesque were sacrificed to utility. Yet there was a pleasant femininity about it. A femininity which never fails to act upon the opposite sex. It carries with it an influence that can best be likened, in a metaphoric sense, to a mental aroma which soothes the jagged edges of the rougher senses. It lulls them to a gentle feeling of seductive delight, a condition which lays men so often open to a bad woman’s unscrupulousness, but also to a good woman’s influence for bringing out all that is greatest and best in their nature.

The waiting was too long for Will. He was a lover of no great restraint.

“Well, Eve?” he demanded, almost sharply. “Two months to-day. Will you? We can get the parson feller that comes here from Rocky Springs to–marry us.”

The dwarf brushed his rope out of his lap, and, rising, hobbled to Eve’s side, and stood peering up into her face in his bird-like way. But he offered no word.

Eve’s hand caressed his silky head. She nodded, nodded at the distant hills through the window.

“Yes, Will, dear.”

The man was at her side in an instant, while Elia slunk away. The youth drew back and turned tail, slinking off as though driven by a cruel lash in the hand of one from whom kindness is expected. He did not return to his seat, but passed out of the house. And the girl and man, in their moment of rapture, forgot him. At that moment their lives, their happiness, their love, were the bounds of their whole thought.

For moments they stood locked in each other’s arms, oblivious to all but the hot passion that ran through their veins. They were lost in the dream of love which was theirs. The world was nothing, life was nothing, except that it gave them this power to love. They drank in each other’s kisses till the woman lay panting in the fierce embrace of the man, and he–he was devouring her with eyes which hungered for her, like the eyes of a starving man, while he crushed her in the arms of a man savage with the delicious pain of his passion.

At last it was the woman who stirred to release herself. It is ever the woman who leads where love dominates. She gently but firmly freed herself. She held his hands and looked up into his glowing eyes. She had something to say, something to ask him, and, reluctant though she be, she must abandon for the time the blissful moments when their mutual love was burning to the exclusion of all else. Will’s passionate eyes held her, and for some moments she could not speak. Then, with an effort, she released his hands and defensively turned her eyes away.

“I–I want to speak to you about–Jim,” she said at last, a little hesitatingly.

And the fire in the man’s eyes abruptly died out.

“He was here this morning, and–he was a little strange.”

Will propped himself against the table, and his face, strangely pale, was turned to the window. Nor did he see the snow-capped hills which bounded the entire view. Guilty thoughts filled his mind and crowded out everything else.

“Well?” he demanded, as Eve waited for him to speak.

“You are such friends, dear, that I wanted to ask you–Do you know why he came to see me?”

Will shook his head. Then a smile struggled round his clean shaven mouth.

“Maybe the same reason that makes most fellows crowd round a pretty girl.”

It was a wistful smile that accompanied the girl’s denial.

“I would like to think it was only that,” she said. “Do you know I am very, very fond of Jim. No, no, not in the way you mean,” she exclaimed hastily, as the man turned on her, hot with the jealousy which was so much a part of his Celtic nature. “I have always been fond of Jim. He’s so generous; so kind and self-sacrificing. Do you know, Will, I believe he’d give up anything to you. It is my conviction that his first thought in life is for your welfare and happiness. And somehow, it–it doesn’t seem right. No, I don’t mean that you don’t deserve it, but that–well, don’t you think a man should fight every battle in which he finds himself on his own account? Don’t you think, you who are so capable, that the struggles that every man must encounter in life demand the whole of his energies to bring them to a successful end? I do. It’s not a matter of self exactly, but we are all so full of weaknesses that this unselfish way of dividing our energies is apt to weaken our own defenses. Thus the scheme for our own uplifting, our own purification, rather suffers. You see, I think we are here on this earth for the purpose of bettering ourselves and preparing for that future, which–I know what I am saying sounds selfish, but really, really, I don’t think it is. Do you know, Jim came to ask me to marry him? I know he did. I avoided his direct question, and told him that you asked me last night, and that I had given you my promise. Well, he accepted it as though, as though he had no business to want what you wanted. And his only comment was that you were a ‘good boy,’ and that he thought you’d make me a good husband. Now, don’t laugh”–the man showed not the slightest inclination to do so. His face was livid; there was something like horror in his eyes–“but if I’d been a man in his place I should have been just mad. Do you think I’d have said that? No, Will; my thoughts would have been murderous. But with him it was otherwise, I’m sure. Yet he loved me, and he was hurt. I could see it–oh, I could see it. The agony in his eyes nearly broke my heart. Will, I think we owe Jim something. I know we can’t ever repay it. But we owe him surely. You do, even more than I. I can’t bear to think of his hurt.”

The girl ceased speaking. Will had made no attempt to stop her, yet every word she had spoken lashed him to a savage self-defense.

“I–I didn’t know he loved you,” he lied. Then he stopped with a sickening impulse. But in a moment he went on. He had taken the plunge, and his selfish nature came to his aid. “Poor Jim,” he said, with apparent feeling. “It’s hard luck–mighty hard luck. But, then, Eve, a feller can’t expect a man to stand by where a woman’s concerned. Not even a brother. You see, dear, I love you so bad. I’d lose anything but you, yes, even my life.” He drew nearer to her, but the girl made no response. “Jim’s got to take his ‘medicine.’ Same as I’d have taken mine, if you’d loved him. If Jim squeals, he’s not–”

“Oh, don’t be afraid of that,” Eve exclaimed, with some warmth. “Jim won’t ‘squeal.’ It’s not in him to ‘squeal.’ He’ll take his ‘medicine’ with any man. I’m not thinking of that. It’s–oh, I don’t know–only I think you’re lucky to have such a friend, and I–oh, I wish we could do something for him.”

Eve did not know how to express all she felt, and Will did not help her. He displayed no sympathy, but seemed absolutely indifferent, and she almost felt angry with him.

“There’s nothing to be done.” Then something prompted the man, and he went on harshly. “It was a fair fight and no favor. I love you, Eve; God knows how I love you. And I wouldn’t give you up or lose you for fifty Jims. If Jim stood in the way between us I’d–I’d–push him out at–any cost.”

“Will!” There was horror in the girl’s exclamation. Then the woman in her rose at the contemplation of the man’s love and passion for her. How could it be otherwise? She came to him, and was hugged in arms that almost set her gasping.

“I love you, Eve. I love you! I love you!”

Their lips met, and the woman clung to him in the rush of her responsive passion.

“Oh, Will,” she cried at length. “It’s good to be loved as you love. It’s so good. Kiss me, dear, kiss me again. I am all yours.”

The man needed no bidding. He had wronged his friend; had lied, lied in the worst way a man can lie, to make sure of her. He appreciated the cost, and its value made those moments all the more precious.

But he had no real regret for the wrong he had committed. And this was an unerring index to his nature. He would stand at nothing where his own desires were at stake.