Читать книгу The "Wild West" Collection - William MacLeod Raine - Страница 7

"This is our home, isn't it?" the girl continued, after a pause. "Just look round. There's the new barn. I remember when you and Pa built it. I used to hold the wood while you sawed, and made you angry because I always tried to make you cut it crooked--and never succeeded. I was very small then. There's the old barn. We use it for cows now. And do you remember when you pulled down the old granary, and built the new one in the shape of an elevator? And do you remember, Ma wouldn't speak to us for a whole day because we pulled the old hen-roost to pieces and established the hogs there? She said it was flying in the face of Providence having the smelly old things so near the house. And now we're going to leave it all. We're farmers, aren't we, Seth? But Pa is going in for cattle."

"Cattle?" exclaimed Seth.

"Yes. But I'd rather that than another grain farm after this one. I don't think I could ever like another grain farm so well as this."

Rosebud had seated herself at Seth's feet, with her back to him so that he could not see her face. She was dressed in a simple dark gown that made her look very frail. Her golden hair was arranged in a great loose knot at the nape of her neck from which several unruly strands had escaped. Seth noted these things even though his eyes wandered from point to point as she indicated the various objects to which she was drawing his attention.

"Yes, it is home, sure, Rosie," he said at last, as she waited for his answer. "Yes, it's home, sure. Yours an' mine."

There was a long pause. Rosebud leant against Seth's knees; and presently she raised one arm till her elbow rested upon them. Then she supported her head upon her hand.

"But I think it's right to go; Ma and Rube are getting old. They want rest. Rube's got a goodish bit of capital, too," she went on, with an almost childish assumption of business knowledge. "And so have you. Now how much will buy a nice ranch?"

The girl had faced round and was gazing up into Seth's face with all the bland innocence of childhood in her wide open eyes. The gravity she beheld there was profound.

"Wal, I'd say around twenty thousand dollars. Y' see, stockin' it's heavy. But Rube wouldn't think o' that much. Mebbe he'd buy a goodish place an' raise the stock himself. I 'lows it's a money-makin' game--is stock. It's a good business."

Seth had gained some enthusiasm while he spoke, and the girl was quick to notice the change.

"I believe you're beginning to fancy the notion," she said, with a bright flash of her eyes.

"Mebbe."

Seth's reply was half shamefaced. Rosebud removed her arm from his knees and turned away, idly drawing vague outlines upon the dusty ground with her forefinger. She was smiling too. It was partly a mischievous smile, and yet there was something very nervous about it. She was thinking, thinking, and found it very hard to say what she wanted to.

"I wonder if you'd help me to do something I want to do very much?" she asked at last. "Something very, very particular?"

"Why, sure," was the ready answer. "That's how it's allus bin."

"Yes, I know. It's always been like that. But this is something much harder." Rosebud smiled a little wistfully into the strong face above her.

"You ken gamble on me."

"Of course I can. I know that."

Another silence fell. The girl continued to draw outrageous parallelograms in the dust. Seth smoked on, waiting for her. The last rays of the setting sun were shining athwart the golden head which his dark eyes were contemplating.

"You see, I want to buy Pa and Ma the finest ranch in Montana," she said at last. "You see, I've got lots of money," she went on, laughing nervously. "At least I shall have. I'm rather selfish, too, because I'm going to live with them, always, you know. And I'd like to live on a ranch. Pa could own it, and you could be foreman and partner. And--and I could be partner too. Quite a business arrangement. Pa and you would work. That's your share of the capital. I should only find the money, and do nothing. You see? I talked it over with--er--some one, and they said that was quite a business arrangement, and thought I was rather clever."

Seth removed his pipe and cleared his throat. Rosebud had not dared to look at him while putting forward her scheme. Her heart was beating so loudly, that it seemed to her he must hear it.

"Wal," he said slowly, "it's not a bad notion in some ways, Rosie. Ther's jest the matter o' myself wrong. I 'lows you'd make a han'some return to Rube an' Ma. Guess you needn't to figger on me though. I'll stand by this old farm. I ken work it single-handed. An' I kind o' notion the Injuns around here someways."

"But we couldn't do without you."

Seth shook his head. As she beheld the movement, Rosebud's lips quivered, and a little impatient frown drew her brows together. She felt like shaking him for his stupidity.

"Well, I'm just going to do it, Seth. And--and I'm sorry I said anything to you about it. I shall buy it for Rube without telling him. And you'll help me?"

"Sure."

"Quite sure?"

"Nothin' more certain."

The girl's impatience had passed. A demure smile had replaced the frown, as she stared out at the flaming western sky. Presently she went on with a great assumption of calmness.

"I'm in a bit of a difficulty, though. You see, I want to do the thing at once, and I can't because I haven't got the money yet. I want to know if there isn't some means of arranging it. You see I only have a certain income at present. Later on, I shall get the whole fortune. It's that silly business about getting it when I'm married. And, of course, I'm not married yet, am I?"

"No."

Rosebud felt a desperate desire to run away. But she had never realized how difficult Seth was before. His uncompromising directness was enough to upset any one, she told herself.

"Well, I must raise the money now. You see, now."

"Can't be done. You see, the dollars ain't yours till you marry. Mebbe they'll never be yours. Mebbe you won't never marry. I guess every female don't allus marry. No, can't be done, I guess."

"No--o. I never looked at it like that before. No. The money isn't mine, is it? So, of course, I can't do it. Oh, Seth, I am disappointed!"

The girl's face had dropped, and there was something almost tragic in her tone. Seth heard the tone and it smote his heart, and made him long to take her in his arms and comfort her. He hated himself for what he had said.

"Why, little Rosie," he said gently, "I was only jest lookin' straight at it. Guess them dollars is yours. It's jest a question o' gettin' married."

The girl had turned away again. The sky was fast darkening, and a deep grayness was spreading from the east. And now, without turning, she said quietly--

"Yes, I must get married. But there's no one wants to marry me."

Seth drew a deep breath and stirred uneasily.

There was another long pause while Rosebud sat silently and unconsciously listening to the thumping of her own heart, and Seth tried hopelessly to relight a pipe in which all the tobacco had burnt out.

Suddenly Rosebud faced round. The growing darkness concealed the deep flush which had now taken possession of her cheeks, and spread even to brow and throat.

"But I do want that money, Seth," she said in a low tone. "And--and--you said--you promised you would help me."

There was a sharp sound of an empty pipe falling to the ground. Two strong rough hands were suddenly thrust out and rested in a steady grasp upon the girl's rounded shoulders. They slid their way upward until her soft cheeks were resting in their palms.

Rosebud felt her face lifted until she found herself gazing into the man's dark eyes which, in the darkness, were shining with a great love light. Her lids drooped before such passionate intensity. And her heart thrilled with rapture as she listened to his rough, honest words.

"Little Rosie, gal, you don't jest know what you're sayin'. I hadn't meant to, sure, but now I can't jest help it. My wits seem somehow gone, an' I don't guess as you'll ever forgive me. Ther's only one way I ken help you, little gal. 'Tain't right. 'Tain't honest, I know, but I guess I'm weak-kneed 'bout things now. I love you that bad I jest want to marry you. Guess I've loved you right along. I loved you when I picked you up in these arms nigh seven years ago. I loved you when I bandaged up that golden head o' yours. An' I've loved you--ever since. Rosie, gal, I jest don't know what I'm sayin'. How ken I? I'm daft--jest daft wi' love of you. I've tried to be honest by you. I've tried to do my duty by you--but I jest can't no longer, 'cos I love you----"

But he abruptly released her, and blindly groped on the ground for his pipe. He had suddenly realized that his actions, his words were past all forgiveness.

He did not find his pipe. Rosebud was kneeling now, and, as he stooped, his head came into contact with hers. In an instant his arms were about her slight figure, and he was crushing her to his breast in a passionate embrace.

"Oh, God! I love you, Rosie!" he cried, with all the pent-up passion of years finding vent in the exclamation.

Her face was raised to his; his lips sought hers, soft and warm. He kissed her again and again. He had no words. His whole soul was crying out for her. She was his, and he was holding her in his arms. Cost what it might afterward she was his for this one delirious moment.

But the moment passed all too swiftly. Reason returned to him, and his arms dropped from about her as he realized the enormity of his offence.

"Child--little Rosie," he cried brokenly, "I'm crazy! What--what have I done?"

But Rosebud did not go from him as he had expected she would. She did not stir. Her face was hidden from him, and he could not see the anger he expected to read there. She answered him. And her answer was meek--very, very humble.

"You've let go of me," she said in a low voice. "And--and I was so comfortable--so--so--happy!"

"Happy?" rechoed Seth.

She was in his arms again. Night had fallen and all was still. No words were spoken between them for many minutes. Those rapturous moments were theirs alone, none could see, none could know. At length it was Rosebud who looked up from the pillow of his breast. Her lovely eyes were shining even in the darkness.

"Seth--dear--you will help me? You will be my--partner in the ranch?"

And the man's answer came with a ring of deep happiness in his voice.

"Yes, Rosie, gal--if you'll make it partners for--life."

Somehow when he came to look back on these moments Seth never quite realized how it all came about--this wondrous happiness that was his. But then--yes, perhaps, he was "ter'ble slow," as Ma Sampson had said.