Collected Works of Zane Grey, page 219
Suddenly something whiter than the background of dust appeared above the low roll of valley floor. Gale leveled his glass. In the clear circle shone Blanco Sol’s noble head with its long black bar from ears to nose. Sol’s head was drooping now. Another second showed Ladd still in the saddle.
The ranger was leading Blanco Diable — spent — broken — dragging — riderless.
CHAPTER IX
AN INTERRUPTED SIESTA
NO MAN EVER had a more eloquent and beautiful pleader for his cause than had Dick Gale in Mercedes Castaneda. He peeped through the green, shining twigs of the palo verde that shaded his door. The hour was high noon, and the patio was sultry. The only sounds were the hum of bees in the flowers and the low murmur of the Spanish girl’s melodious voice. Nell lay in the hammock, her hands behind her head, with rosy cheeks and arch eyes. Indeed, she looked rebellious. Certain it was, Dick reflected, that the young lady had fully recovered the wilful personality which had lain dormant for a while. Equally certain it seemed that Mercedes’s earnestness was not apparently having the effect it should have had.
Dick was inclined to be rebellious himself. Belding had kept the rangers in off the line, and therefore Dick had been idle most of the time, and, though he tried hard, he had been unable to stay far from Nell’s vicinity. He believed she cared for him; but he could not catch her alone long enough to verify his tormenting hope. When alone she was as illusive as a shadow, as quick as a flash, as mysterious as a Yaqui. When he tried to catch her in the garden or fields, or corner her in the patio, she eluded him, and left behind a memory of dark-blue, haunting eyes. It was that look in her eyes which lent him hope. At other times, when it might have been possible for Dick to speak, Nell clung closely to Mercedes. He had long before enlisted the loyal Mercedes in his cause; but in spite of this Nell had been more than a match for them both.
Gale pondered over an idea he had long revolved in mind, and which now suddenly gave place to a decision that made his heart swell and his cheek burn. He peeped again through the green branches to see Nell laughing at the fiery Mercedes.
“Qui’en sabe,” he called, mockingly, and was delighted with Nell’s quick, amazed start.
Then he went in search of Mrs. Belding, and found her busy in the kitchen. The relation between Gale and Mrs. Belding had subtly and incomprehensively changed. He understood her less than when at first he divined an antagonism in her. If such a thing were possible she had retained the antagonism while seeming to yield to some influence that must have been fondness for him. Gale was in no wise sure of her affection, and he had long imagined she was afraid of him, or of something that he represented. He had gone on, openly and fairly, though discreetly, with his rather one-sided love affair; and as time passed he had grown less conscious of what had seemed her unspoken opposition. Gale had come to care greatly for Nell’s mother. Not only was she the comfort and strength of her home, but also of the inhabitants of Forlorn River. Indian, Mexican, American were all the same to her in trouble or illness; and then she was nurse, doctor, peacemaker, helper. She was good and noble, and there was not a child or grownup in Forlorn River who did not love and bless her. But Mrs. Belding did not seem happy. She was brooding, intense, deep, strong, eager for the happiness and welfare of others; and she was dominated by a worship of her daughter that was as strange as it was pathetic. Mrs. Belding seldom smiled, and never laughed. There was always a soft, sad, hurt look in her eyes. Gale often wondered if there had been other tragedy in her life than the supposed loss of her father in the desert. Perhaps it was the very unsolved nature of that loss which made it haunting.
Mrs. Belding heard Dick’s step as he entered the kitchen, and, looking up, greeted him.
“Mother,” began Dick, earnestly. Belding called her that, and so did Ladd and Lash, but it was the first time for Dick. “Mother — I want to speak to you.”
The only indication Mrs. Belding gave of being started was in her eyes, which darkened, shadowed with multiplying thought.
“I love Nell,” went on Dick, simply, “and I want you to let me ask her to be my wife.”
Mrs. Belding’s face blanched to a deathly white. Gale, thinking with surprise and concern that she was going to faint, moved quickly toward her, took her arm.
“Forgive me. I was blunt.... But I thought you knew.”
“I’ve known for a long time,” replied Mrs. Belding. Her voice was steady, and there was no evidence of agitation except in her pallor. “Then you — you haven’t spoken to Nell?”
Dick laughed. “I’ve been trying to get a chance to tell her. I haven’t had it yet. But she knows. There are other ways besides speech. And Mercedes has told her. I hope, I almost believe Nell cares a little for me.”
“I’ve known that, too, for a long time,” said Mrs. Belding, low almost as a whisper.
“You know!” cried Dick, with a glow and rush of feeling.
“Dick, you must be very blind not to see what has been plain to all of us.... I guess — it couldn’t have been helped. You’re a splendid fellow. No wonder she loves you.”
“Mother! You’ll give her to me?”
She drew him to the light and looked with strange, piercing intentness into his face. Gale had never dreamed a woman’s eyes could hold such a world of thought and feeling. It seemed all the sweetness of life was there, and all the pain.
“Do you love her?” she asked.
“With all my heart.”
“You want to marry her?”
“Ah, I want to! As much as I want to live and work for her.”
“When would you marry her?”
“Why!... Just as soon as she will do it. To-morrow!” Dick gave a wild, exultant little laugh.
“Dick Gale, you want my Nell? You love her just as she is — her sweetness — her goodness? Just herself, body and soul?... There’s nothing could change you — nothing?”
“Dear Mrs. Belding, I love Nell for herself. If she loves me I’ll be the happiest of men. There’s absolutely nothing that could make any difference in me.”
“But your people? Oh, Dick, you come of a proud family. I can tell. I — I once knew a young man like you. A few months can’t change pride — blood. Years can’t change them. You’ve become a ranger. You love the adventure — the wild life. That won’t last. Perhaps you’ll settle down to ranching. I know you love the West. But, Dick, there’s your family—”
“If you want to know anything about my family, I’ll tell you,” interrupted Dick, with strong feeling. “I’ve not secrets about them or myself. My future and happiness are Nell’s to make. No one else shall count with me.”
“Then, Dick — you may have her. God — bless — you — both.”
Mrs. Belding’s strained face underwent a swift and mobile relaxation, and suddenly she was weeping in strangely mingled happiness and bitterness.
“Why, mother!” Gale could say no more. He did not comprehend a mood seemingly so utterly at variance with Mrs. Belding’s habitual temperament. But he put his arm around her. In another moment she had gained command over herself, and, kissing him, she pushed him out of the door.
“There! Go tell her, Dick... And have some spunk about it!”
Gale went thoughtfully back to his room. He vowed that he would answer for Nell’s happiness, if he had the wonderful good fortune to win her. Then remembering the hope Mrs. Belding had given him, Dick lost his gravity in a flash, and something began to dance and ring within him. He simply could not keep his steps turned from the patio. Every path led there. His blood was throbbing, his hopes mounting, his spirit soaring. He knew he had never before entered the patio with that inspirited presence.
“Now for some spunk!” he said, under his breath.
Plainly he meant his merry whistle and his buoyant step to interrupt this first languorous stage of the siesta which the girls always took during the hot hours. Nell had acquired the habit long before Mercedes came to show how fixed a thing it was in the life of the tropics. But neither girl heard him. Mercedes lay under the palo verde, her beautiful head dark and still upon a cushion. Nell was asleep in the hammock. There was an abandonment in her deep repose, and a faint smile upon her face. Her sweet, red lips, with the soft, perfect curve, had always fascinated Dick, and now drew him irresistibly. He had always been consumed with a desire to kiss her, and now he was overwhelmed with his opportunity. It would be a terrible thing to do, but if she did not awaken at once — No, he would fight the temptation. That would be more than spunk. It would — Suddenly an ugly green fly sailed low over Nell, appeared about to alight on her. Noiselessly Dick stepped close to the hammock bent under the tree, and with a sweep of his hand chased the intruding fly away. But he found himself powerless to straighten up. He was close to her — bending over her face — near the sweet lips. The insolent, dreaming smile just parted them. Then he thought he was lost. But she stirred — he feared she would awaken.
He had stepped back erect when she opened her eyes. They were sleepy, yet surprised until she saw him. Then she was wide awake in a second, bewildered, uncertain.
“Why — you here?” she asked, slowly.
“Large as life!” replied Dick, with unusual gayety.
“How long have you been here?”
“Just got here this fraction of a second,” he replied, lying shamelessly.
It was evident that she did not know whether or not to believe him, and as she studied him a slow blush dyed her cheek.
“You are absolutely truthful when you say you just stepped there?”
“Why, of course,” answered Dick, right glad he did not have to lie about that.
“I thought — I was — dreaming,” she said, and evidently the sound of her voice reassured her.
“Yes, you looked as if you were having pleasant dreams,” replied Dick. “So sorry to wake you. I can’t see how I came to do it, I was so quiet. Mercedes didn’t wake. Well, I’ll go and let you have your siesta and dreams.”
But he did not move to go. Nell regarded him with curious, speculative eyes.
“Isn’t it a lovely day?” queried Dick.
“I think it’s hot.”
“Only ninety in the shade. And you’ve told me the mercury goes to one hundred and thirty in midsummer. This is just a glorious golden day.”
“Yesterday was finer, but you didn’t notice it.”
“Oh, yesterday was somewhere back in the past — the inconsequential past.”
Nell’s sleepy blue eyes opened a little wider. She did not know what to make of this changed young man. Dick felt gleeful and tried hard to keep the fact from becoming manifest.
“What’s the inconsequential past? You seem remarkably happy to-day.”
“I certainly am happy. Adios. Pleasant dreams.”
Dick turned away then and left the patio by the opening into the yard. Nell was really sleepy, and when she had fallen asleep again he would return. He walked around for a while. Belding and the rangers were shoeing a broncho. Yaqui was in the field with the horses. Blanco Sol grazed contently, and now and then lifted his head to watch. His long ears went up at sight of his master, and he whistled. Presently Dick, as if magnet-drawn, retraced his steps to the patio and entered noiselessly.
Nell was now deep in her siesta. She was inert, relaxed, untroubled by dreams. Her hair was damp on her brow.
Again Nell stirred, and gradually awakened. Her eyes unclosed, humid, shadowy, unconscious. They rested upon Dick for a moment before they became clear and comprehensive. He stood back fully ten feet from her, and to all outside appearances regarded her calmly.
“I’ve interrupted your siesta again,” he said. “Please forgive me. I’ll take myself off.”
He wandered away, and when it became impossible for him to stay away any longer he returned to the patio.
The instant his glance rested upon Nell’s face he divined she was feigning sleep. The faint rose-blush had paled. The warm, rich, golden tint of her skin had fled. Dick dropped upon his knees and bent over her. Though his blood was churning in his veins, his breast laboring, his mind whirling with the wonder of that moment and its promise, he made himself deliberate. He wanted more than anything he had ever wanted in his life to see if she would keep up that pretense of sleep and let him kiss her. She must have felt his breath, for her hair waved off her brow. Her cheeks were now white. Her breast swelled and sank. He bent down closer — closer. But he must have been maddeningly slow, for as he bent still closer Nell’s eyes opened, and he caught a swift purple gaze of eyes as she whirled her head. Then, with a little cry, she rose and fled.
CHAPTER X
ROJAS
NO WORD FROM George Thorne had come to Forlorn River in weeks. Gale grew concerned over the fact, and began to wonder if anything serious could have happened to him. Mercedes showed a slow, wearing strain.
Thorne’s commission expired the end of January, and if he could not get his discharge immediately, he surely could obtain leave of absence. Therefore, Gale waited, not without growing anxiety, and did his best to cheer Mercedes. The first of February came bringing news of rebel activities and bandit operations in and around Casita, but not a word from the cavalryman.
Mercedes became silent, mournful. Her eyes were great black windows of tragedy. Nell devoted herself entirely to the unfortunate girl; Dick exerted himself to persuade her that all would yet come well; in fact, the whole household could not have been kinder to a sister or a daughter. But their united efforts were unavailing. Mercedes seemed to accept with fatalistic hopelessness a last and crowning misfortune.
A dozen times Gale declared he would ride in to Casita and find out why they did not hear from Thorne; however, older and wiser heads prevailed over his impetuosity. Belding was not sanguine over the safety of the Casita trail. Refugees from there arrived every day in Forlorn River, and if tales they told were true, real war would have been preferable to what was going on along the border. Belding and the rangers and the Yaqui held a consultation. Not only had the Indian become a faithful servant to Gale, but he was also of value to Belding. Yaqui had all the craft of his class, and superior intelligence. His knowledge of Mexicans was second only to his hate of them. And Yaqui, who had been scouting on all the trails, gave information that made Belding decide to wait some days before sending any one to Casita. He required promises from his rangers, particularly Gale, not to leave without his consent.
It was upon Gale’s coming from this conference that he encountered Nell. Since the interrupted siesta episode she had been more than ordinarily elusive, and about all he had received from her was a tantalizing smile from a distance. He got the impression now, however, that she had awaited him. When he drew close to her he was certain of it, and he experienced more than surprise.
“Dick,” she began, hurriedly. “Dad’s not going to send any one to see about Thorne?”
“No, not yet. He thinks it best not to. We all think so. I’m sorry. Poor Mercedes!”
“I knew it. I tried to coax him to send Laddy or even Yaqui. He wouldn’t listen to me. Dick, Mercedes is dying by inches. Can’t you see what ails her? It’s more than love or fear. It’s uncertainty — suspense. Oh, can’t we find out for her?”
“Nell, I feel as badly as you about her. I wanted to ride in to Casita. Belding shut me up quick, the last time.”
Nell came close to Gale, clasped his arm. There was no color in her face. Her eyes held a dark, eager excitement.
“Dick, will you slip off without Dad’s consent? Risk it! Go to Casita and find out what’s happened to Thorne — at least if he ever started for Forlorn River?”
“No, Nell, I won’t do that.”
She drew away from him with passionate suddenness.
“Are you afraid?”
This certainly was not the Nell Burton that Gale knew.
“No, I’m not afraid,” Gale replied, a little nettled.
“Will you go — for my sake?” Like lightning her mood changed and she was close to him again, hands on his, her face white, her whole presence sweetly alluring.
“Nell, I won’t disobey Belding,” protested Gale. “I won’t break my word.”
“Dick, it’ll not be so bad as that. But — what if it is?... Go, Dick, if not for poor Mercedes’s sake, then for mine — to please me. I’ll — I’ll... you won’t lose anything by going. I think I know how Mercedes feels. Just a word from Thorne or about him would save her. Take Blanco Sol and go, Dick. What rebel outfit could ever ride you down on that horse? Why, Dick, if I was up on Sol I wouldn’t be afraid of the whole rebel army.”
“My dear girl, it’s not a question of being afraid. It’s my word — my duty to Belding.”
“You said you loved me. If you love me you will go... You don’t love me!”
Gale could only stare at this transformed girl.
“Dick, listen!... If you go — if you fetch some word of Thorne to comfort Mercedes, you — well, you will have your reward.”
“Nell!”
Her dangerous sweetness was as amazing as this newly revealed character.
“Dick, will you go?”
“No-no!” cried Gale, in violence, struggling with himself. “Nell Burton, I’ll tell you this. To have the reward I want would mean pretty near heaven for me. But not even for that will I break my word to your father.”
She seemed the incarnation of girlish scorn and wilful passion.
“Gracias, senor,” she replied, mockingly. “Adios.” Then she flashed out of his sight.
Gale went to his room at once, disturbed and thrilling, and did not soon recover from that encounter.
The following morning at the breakfast table Nell was not present. Mrs. Belding evidently considered the fact somewhat unusual, for she called out into the patio and then into the yard. Then she went to Mercedes’s room. But Nell was not there, either.
“She’s in one of her tantrums lately,” said Belding. “Wouldn’t speak to me this morning. Let her alone, mother. She’s spoiled enough, without running after her. She’s always hungry. She’ll be on hand presently, don’t mistake me.”
