Collected Works of Zane Grey, page 1357
“Here’s where we rest a bit and have a snack of grub,” he called out cheerily.
Lucy clambered down over the big wheel and peered in the window to see Lincoln trying to rouse Kit. “All out for refreshment, Kit,” he said, gently shaking her. She awoke finally and sat up sleepy-eyed. “Where are we, driver?” she asked, looking out.
“Halfway to West Fork,” he replied. “This is the only good place to stop to rest the horses and camp for a while.”
“Driver, it looks as though we are going to have some weather,” announced the Nebraskan.
“Yes, it’s clouding up. Snow squall coming down from the hills.”
“I’ll eat my lunch inside,” Kit decided.
“Cowboy, you build a fire,” suggested the driver, “while I take care of the horses. Then I’ll make some coffee.”
“And I’ll stretch my legs,” said Lucy, swinging off under the trees. When she returned coffee and sandwiches were being served and Lincoln observed that Lucy warmed her hands by the little fire. The wind blew chill, rustling through the trees and presently as the sun paled and then disappeared altogether, it grew quite cold.
“Lincoln, who sold you this tough chicken?” asked Kit in a petulant tone.
“Why, I was just going to say it tasted pretty good,” replied Lincoln. “And I notice Lucy is doing very well with hers.” Then silence fell on the little group.
“Wal, I think we might as well be movin’ along,” announced the driver. “And Miss, you ride inside this afternoon. It’s goin’ to be squally.”
“How long to West Fork?” asked Lincoln.
“Oh, it won’t take us long,” replied the driver. “All downhill. We’ll make it easy before dark. But you folks want to cover up well.”
Once more in the coach, Linc found himself seated across from Lucy. Kit was not slow to make herself comfortable, appropriating Lincoln’s shoulder and closing her eyes.
“Cover me up well,” she ordered sleepily.
What with a blanket and a heavy robe they were reasonably well protected from the drafty stagecoach. Lucy stretched out, her feet coming in contact with those of her husband. She gave Lincoln a sly little smile before she closed her eyes. Kit was the first to drift off to sleep, and Lucy quickly followed suit. The first snow squall enveloped the stage and scurried by, the hard pellets of ice and snow rattling against the closed windows. At length Bradway was forced to let down the curtains on the windy side, but swathed by the heavy robe and with Kit heavily asleep on his side he did not feel the cold. The gray leaden sky and the intermittent snow squalls were not conducive to watchfulness and at length Lincoln too fell asleep.
When he was awakened by a sudden jar of the stage he found that the afternoon was far gone and they had reached West Fork, where they were to spend the night. The storm had passed, but the late afternoon air was cold for June. The inn was very comfortable, with a huge open fire and many oil lamps. After seeing the two women safely inside with their baggage, the cowboy went outside to stretch his cramped legs. It had cleared off crisply but in the west, dark storm clouds still loomed. The Nebraskan walked out as far as a little pine grove and back again, glad indeed that the ride was half over. Inside the post supper was ready, and with the innkeeper and his family there were several other travelers at the table. From their talk he judged that they were waiting for the westbound stage. After supper Kit and Lucy did not remain long in front of the hot fire, but the Nebraskan conquered his feeling of drowsiness in order to listen to the conversation. At length he accosted some of the westbound travelers, inquiring about affairs at South Pass. Learning little of particular interest, he finally sought the little room assigned to him and went to sleep.
When he awoke shortly after dawn he found the inn already bustling with the morning’s activities. Dressing quickly, the cowboy went into the dining room to find Lucy ready and breakfast on the table. A moment later Kit came in, brisk and cheerful, evidently having completely recovered from her exhaustion of the day before. After breakfast, they stepped outside the post to find a glorious sunshiny June morning awaiting them in which to embark on the final stage of their journey.
When they pulled out of West Fork, Linc discovered that they still had the coach to themselves. Lucy rode on top with the driver; and Kit blithely informed Lincoln that she would make up that day for her dullness of yesterday. She quizzed her traveling mate concerning Vince and Thatcher and also asked about Sheriff Haught and what he had told him about her, if anything. “Did he give me away?” she asked archly.
“What do you mean?” queried the cowboy.
“Did he tell you that I hired him to keep you in jail?” she went on mischievously.
“Well, he hinted it,” he replied. “What was your idea in doing that?”
“Oh, I wanted you well taken care of where I could see you alone. That didn’t get me very far, did it?”
“I think you went plenty far,” he replied.
“Tell me,” she said simply, “what seems to be the difficulty between us?”
“Between us?” he echoed. “Why should there be? There’s nothing between us.”
“I mean obstacles,” she explained.
“Obstacles? — Obstacles to what?”
“Don’t be a blockhead, Linc. You know what I mean. You know what is the matter with me. You know what I’m going to do.”
“Well, I’m afraid there are a few obstacles, Kit. One in particular is that I don’t seem to feel the way you are trying to make me think you feel.”
“I gathered that. It’s a sad blow to my vanity. Serves me right, though. But that is no obstacle to me, as you will discover, cowboy. Name some of the other ones.”
“Excuse me, Kit. I’d rather not hurt your feelings.”
“But you have already hurt me terribly,” she protested. “A little more or less won’t make any difference.”
“No!”
“Is it my partner, Emery?” she persisted.
“Well, his relation to you is none of my business, but as a matter of fact I thought it was pretty low-down for you to be associated with a rat of a gambler in that dive.”
“Yes,” she admitted frankly. “But if I realized it before, I didn’t care. Now I do care. I’m not the same Kit Bandon. Just the same, this one thing you must believe, Linc. I have been mixed up with Emery in the Leave It but that’s all. Usually I have never cared what one man thought about my relation to another man — but I want you to know that he was not my lover.”
Lincoln did not venture any reply to her plea to be understood.
“Lincoln, you believe me, don’t you?” she demanded.
“Yes, I believe you,” replied Lincoln, slowly.
“Thank you.... Then is it the gossip you heard about me in South Pass? My name being linked with Lee and Hargrove and other cattlemen?”
“That meant nothing to me,” rejoined Lincoln, truthfully.
“They all ran after me, made love to me in their clumsy ways — the old goats,” she said, scornfully. “I’ll admit I did play around with Lee, perhaps too much. A couple of years ago I thought I might even marry him. It might have been a good idea.... As a matter of fact, it would have been much better for me if I had — but I didn’t know it then. Lincoln, you don’t seem to be the jealous type; but just the same, men are alike. I want you to know that I went around with Lee off and on because I really liked him... is that clear to you?”
“Perfectly clear, Kit.”
“You won’t have any queer ideas about Lee and me now that I’ve set you straight?”
“Queer? Hardly that. I suppose it’s a woman’s privilege to lead any man on if she wants to, but it isn’t very honorable.”
“You really have heard a lot about me, haven’t you?”
“Kit, you don’t seem to realize that a colorful person like yourself is bound to be talked about. Every move you make makes gossip — good or bad.”
She was silent a while resting her cheek against his shoulder and clinging tightly to his arm. “Then it is as I have feared,” she murmured, not at all displeased, it seemed to Linc. “It’s the gossip about me and all these cowboys.”
Lincoln had no ready answer for that. Presently he said: “Kit, I — I never paid much attention to gossip. One lone beautiful woman out among a group of cattlemen is bound to be talked about. Naturally I was interested in you more because of the unique and attractive place you occupy out here. But the only thing I ever actually heard was that you were, well — not fair in your sentimental dealing with cowboys.”
“What did Jimmy tell you?” she whispered.
“He wrote me that you took him away from Lucy — and the words he used were hardly fit to quote to you.”
Her head sank a little on his shoulder. He felt her fingers tighten then relax. Mention of Jimmy Weston’s name always seemed to stir her. Would he ever discover what the true relationship between those two had been? He was more than curious to hear what she would say. Yet he felt convinced that she would not tell him the truth, although why he could not quite understand. Presently she spoke, quite composedly: “Lincoln, I did come between Lucy and Jimmy. She was taken with him and I was afraid she would overdo it. I’m bound to admit that I liked him myself pretty well. He was good-looking, gay, full of mischief — the best company ever, but he was as unstable as water, absolutely unreliable, impossible for me to accept as Lucy’s husband.”
Lincoln at length replied somewhat huskily: “In that case probably you were justified in separating them. But not by making him care for you. I am speaking frankly. Kit, because Jimmy was my best friend.”
“That has always been my weakness,” she rejoined, simply. “That is my weakness now and it’s ten thousand times stronger than it ever was.”
“Jimmy wrote me a wild, disconnected letter probably under the influence of despair or liquor and I did not take that part of it as absolutely reliable. But I’d appreciate it if you would let the subject of Jimmy drop between us.”
“That’s all right with me,” she replied in quick relief. “As for the other cowboys, you must remember that I am a rancher; dealing in cattle is my business. I’ve hired dozens of cowboys in the valley. I’ve befriended them — gotten them out of jail, redeemed their saddles and guns that they had pawned, lent them money — in fact, had a sort of motherly feeling for all of them. Then, you must remember again, I am a young woman — and even if you never seemed to be aware of it, they have told me repeatedly that I am rather attractive.”
Bradway laughed at this. “Yes,” he said coolly. “Even if I never let you wind me around your little finger, Kit, it wasn’t because you were hard to look at.”
“Please don’t joke at a moment like this, Lincoln. I’m going out of my way to try to establish my true character in your mind. The fact that good-looking cowboys fell in love with me from time to time never troubled me until you came to South Pass. I’ll admit, I even encouraged them to.... Now all I want you to understand is that this cowboy nonsense and foolishness is behind me. I’m through. You can give yourself the credit for that.”
“Thanks, Kit, but I’m a cowboy, too.”
“Yes, but if you must split hairs, I was speaking of those thoughtless friendships, trifling and of no consequence....”
“Kit, all this confidence of yours is interesting but it’s a little embarrassing. I don’t know what you’re driving at.”
“You’ll find out pretty quick. My vanity has been bleeding to death for days... but I know what has happened to me and I have lived with it, slept with it, dreamed of it till it has taken possession of me!” She fell silent then. Presently her left hand slipped around back of his head and touched his cheek and neck with an exquisite softness. Her mood seemed to shift again; she leaned against him, in one of her abrupt changes which he recognized and tried to steel himself against. Suddenly the woman beside him had become warm, quivering, vibrant, radiating a charm that Linc again found to be almost irresistible. Her physical beauty was only a small part of her charm, lovely as were her dusky eyes, her soft skin, her youthful body. But there was more, a great deal more. He decided then, in a moment when his perceptions were deeply sensitive, that her great power was a singularly vital and compelling zest for life, which drove her into adventure for the pure love of adventure. She had the recklessness of a man which, added to her all-too-conscious attractiveness for men, made her power completely transcendent.
“Lincoln,” she said after an interval of silence, “please listen. If I ever spoke the truth I’m telling it now. If good can ever overcome selfishness and love of power in a woman then it has done that to me. I always feared this thing would happen to me. It is perhaps no different from what other women have experienced but in me it is a thousand times stronger.... All that life — all that has happened since I came to the Sweetwater is passed — gone forever. I can even conceive of praying to God eventually to let me forget that old life. I intend to sell my ranch and I want to move somewhere else in Wyoming far away where no one ever heard of me. I love you, Linc, as no other woman ever loved in this world. If you ask me why, I’d say it was retribution. I have held love lightly. Now it holds me in a grip which I wouldn’t loosen if I could. At this moment, Lincoln, I’m so humble in my love that I would be willing to plead with you to take it. I will be happy with anything you can give. Linc, you don’t realize what it means that the once proud woman whom they call the Maverick Queen is on her knees before you. With all my heart and soul I swear my change of heart.... Lincoln, will you go away with me?”
“Kit — I can’t,” he replied huskily.
“Is it because you don’t care for me?”
“No.”
“Is it because you don’t care enough?”
“No.”
“Is it because you still doubt — ?”
“No, it’s not that either. Kit, I don’t know that it would make any difference to a man whether he had any doubts about a beautiful woman like you if he knew he wanted her to be his wife. I think the only thing that would count with a man would be what his heart told him. You are a gallant lady, Kit Bandon. Life would be an adventure with you that a million men would give their souls to undertake with you. But it is impossible to go away with you, Kit.”
“Tell me why,” she whispered patiently.
“You wouldn’t understand the reasons I gave you,” he replied hurriedly. “The main reason — is that I’ve already got a wife!”
Startled and amazed, she jerked up from his breast, clutched his arms with fierce hands. The eyes that blazed into his were those of a cornered puma.
“Good God! Linc, what are you saying? A wife!”
“That’s — what I said — Kit,” he replied haltingly.
“Are you separated from her?”
He uttered a grim little laugh. “Separated. I should smile I am.”
“Could you get rid of her?”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t.”
“Well. That is the only thing I didn’t think of,” she replied, still obviously shaken. “I don’t know that it makes so much difference to me at the moment. Of course I wanted to be your wife and by the high heavens, I swear I will be!... I will go right on making my plans. All that matters to me is that you don’t despise me — that you care a little for me. The rest will all come in time.... But what you have told me has shocked all the plans I had made right out of my head.”
“Kit, if you think that this was easy for me either you are very much mistaken.” Putting his head out of the window, Lincoln called up to the driver to stop. When the stage rolled to a standstill Lincoln called: “Lucy, climb down. I want to change places with you.”
Laughingly she complied. “All right with me,” she said. “I’m about blown to pieces. Did you notice how fast we went down that last hill?”
“No,” replied Lincoln, giving her a long significant look, “I’m afraid I didn’t know whether I was riding or walking.”
“Indeed you must have been preoccupied. I drove that last ten miles myself. Look at my gloves. If the teams didn’t run away with me, I’m missing my guess.”
“I’d like to drive some myself,” said Lincoln, as he climbed up over the wheel.
“Sure, son, go ahead. Saves me the trouble,” the driver said good-naturedly.
Lucy entered the stagecoach and slammed the door. The stage lunged on again.
“Must have been making good time, driver,” said the cowboy.
“Wal, where hev you been anyhow?” he chuckled. “Here’s the head of Sweetwater Valley, that is, this west fork. Thirty miles more or less to the Bandon ranch. We’ll be there in two hours or more.”
“Doggone!” ejaculated Lincoln. “You sure have been traveling.”
For an hour the Nebraskan devoted himself to piloting the spirited teams. They pulled so hard on his arms that he was forced to brace his feet powerfully on the dashboard. Now and then he had to use the brake. With this physical exertion and his attention to the horses and the condition of the road he was fully occupied, and when he relinquished the reins to the driver he was thoroughly tired, his seething and conflicting emotions quieted. He was now within sight of the Sweetwater Valley. He gazed down that purple expanse with infinite appreciation of its beauty and a perplexing wonder as to what it had in store for him. The sun, halfway down in the west, had begun to lose its brightness and mantled the lower reaches of the valley with a dark rosy haze. Lincoln tried to pick out the escarpment with a clump of pines which had been his rendezvous with Lucy, but the distance was too great. He confined himself to admiration of the southern end of the Wind River Range and to wondering what was taking place between the two women in the stage behind him. Somewhere up under those sunset-flushed peaks was the wild and fertile valley with which Lucy had intrigued him. But thought of making a home there seemed as far away from reality as it was in the purple distance.
