The Moccasin Ranch Part 7

Burke was relieved. "Yes, you'd better stay," he said, and drove off.

Blanche crept back into the shanty and bent above the stove, s.h.i.+vering violently. She drew a long breath now and then like a grieving child.

Life was over for her. She had reached the point where nothing mattered.

She sat there until the sound of bells aroused her. "It's Jim!" she called, and rose to her feet, her face radiant with relief. Rivers came rus.h.i.+ng up to the door in a two-horse sleigh and leaped out with a shout of greeting, though he could not see her at the frosted window.

A moment later he burst in, vigorous, smiling, defiant of the cold.

"h.e.l.lo! All alone? How are you?"

A quick warmth ran through her chilled limbs, and she lifted her hands to him.

"Oh, Jim, I'm so glad you came!"

"Keep away--I'm all snow," he warningly called, as he threw off his cap and buffalo coat. "Now come to me," he said, and took her in his arms.

"How are you, sweetheart? I can't kiss you--my mustache is all ice.

Where's Burke?"

"Gone to Craig's."

He winked jovially while pulling the icicles from his long mustache.

"I thought I saw him driving across the ridge. I was on my way to the store, but when I saw his old rack-a-bone team I turned off to see you.

How are you?" he asked, tenderly, and his voice swept away all her reserve.

"Oh, Jim, I'm not well. You must take me away, _right off_. I can't stay here another day--_not a day_."

He looked at her keenly.

"Why? What's the matter?"

She evaded his eyes.

"It's so lonesome here--" Then she dropped all evasion: "You know why--Jim, take me away. I can't live without you _now_. I'm going to be sick."

He understood her very well. His eyes fell and his face knotted in sudden gravity. "I was afraid of that--that's why I came. Yes, you must get out of here at once."

She understood him. "Oh, Jim, you won't leave me now, will you?"

"No. I didn't say anything about leaving you." He put his arm around her. "I'm not that kind of a man. You and I were built for each other--I felt that on that first ride. I guess it's up to me to take you out of this." He broke off his emotional utterance and grew keen and alert.

"I've been planning to go, and I'm almost ready--in fact, I could leave now without much loss, but I didn't come prepared for anything so sudden. My office furniture don't amount to much, and this team is Bailey's"--he mused a moment. "_Come!_" he said, with sudden resolution, "it's go now--we'll never have a better chance."

She turned white with dread--now that she neared the actual deed.

"Oh, Jim! I _wish_ there was some other way."

He was a little rough. Her feminine hesitation he could not sympathize with.

"Well, there isn't. We've got to get right out of this. Hurry on your things. The wind is rising, and we must make Wheatland by five o'clock.

I came out to hold down my claim, but it ain't worth it. I reckon I've squeezed all the juice out of this lemon. This climate is a little boisterous for me."

He brought in a blanket and warmed it at the fire while she wrapped herself in cloak and shawl.

"I'd better write a little note to--him."

"What for? I've got nothing against him, except that he saw you first.

But I guess he's out of the running now. It's you and me from this day on."

"I hate to go without saying good-bye," she said, tremulously. "He's always been good to me," she added, smitten with sudden realization of her husband's kindness.

He perceived that she was in earnest. "All right--only it does no good, and delays us. Every minute is valuable now. The outlook is owly."

The plain was getting gray as they came out of the door, and the woman shrank and s.h.i.+vered with an instant chill, but Rivers tenderly tucked the robe about her and leaped into the sleigh.

"Now boys, git!" he shouted to the humped and wind-ruffled team, and they sprang away into the currents of powdered snow, which were running along the ground in streams as smooth as oil and almost as silent.

The sleigh rose and fell over the ridges like a s.h.i.+p. Off in the west the sun was s.h.i.+ning through a peculiar smoky cloud, gray-white, vapory, with glittering edges where it lay against the cold, yellow sky. Every sign was ominous, and the long drive seemed a desperate venture to the woman, but she trusted her lover as a child depends upon a father. She nestled close down under his left arm, clothed in its s.h.a.ggy buffalo-skin coat, a splendid elation in her heart. She was at last with the strong man to whom she belonged.

This elation did not last long. Her sense of safety died slowly out, just as the blood chilled in her veins. She was not properly clothed, and her feet soon ached with cold, and she drew her breath through her teeth to prevent the utterance of moans of pain. She was never free now from the feeling of guardians.h.i.+p which is the delight and the haunting uneasiness of motherhood. "I must be warm," she thought, "for _its_ sake."

She heard his voice above.

"I never'll settle in a prairie country again--not but what I've done well enough as a land-agent, but there's no big thing here for anybody--nothing for the land-agent now."

"Oh, Jim, I'm so cold! I'm afraid I can't stand it!" she broke out, desperately.

"There, there!" he said, as if she were a child. "Cuddle down on my knees. Be brave. You'll get warmer soon as we turn south."

Nevertheless, he was alarmed as he looked about him. He gathered her close in his arm, holding the robe about her, and urged on his brave team. They were hardly five miles from the shanty, and yet the storm was becoming frightful, even to his resolute and experienced brain. The circle of his vision had narrowed till it was impossible at times to see fifty rods away. The push of the wind grew each moment mightier. A mult.i.tudinous, soft, rus.h.i.+ng, whispering roar was rising round them, mixed with a hissing, rustling sound like the pa.s.sing of invisible, winged hosts. He could feel his woman shake with cold, but she spoke no further word of complaint.

He turned the horses suddenly to the left, speaking through his teeth.

"We must make the store," he said. "We must have more wraps. We'll stop at the Ranch and get warm, and then go on. The wind may lull--anyway, it will be at our backs."

As the team turned to the south the air seemed a little less savage, but Blanche still writhed with pain. Her hands suffered most; her feet had grown numb.

"We'll be there in a few minutes," Rivers cheerily repeated, but he began to understand her desperate condition.

A quarter of an hour later his team drew up before the door of the ranch-house. It seemed deliciously warm in the lee of the long walls.

"Well, here we are. Now we'll go in and get warm."

"What if Mr. Bailey is there?" she stammered, with stiff lips.

"No matter, you must not freeze."

He shouted, "h.e.l.lo, Bailey!" There was no reply, and he leaped out.

"Come, you must go in." He took her in his arms and carried her into the room, dim, yet gloriously warm by contrast with the outside air. "Feels good here, doesn't it? Now, while I roll up some blankets, you warm--We must be quick. I'll find you some overshoes."