PAGE 7
At The Foot Of The Trail
by
“Why, mother Moxom, I just don’t know what to say!”
Mrs. Weaver’s tone conveyed a deep-seated sense of injury that she should thus be deprived of speech for such insufficient cause.
“‘Tisn’t such a very hard trip,” pursued the old woman doggedly. “They say you get on one of them through trains and take your provision and your knitting, and just live along the road. It isn’t as if you had to change cars at every junction, and get so turned round you don’t know which way your head’s set on your shoulders.”
Mrs. Weaver’s expression began to dissolve into reluctant interest in these details.
“Well, of course, if you think it’ll help your rheumatism, and you’ve got your mind made up to go, some body’ll have to go with you. Have you asked Jason?”
“No, I haven’t.” Mrs. Moxom’s voice took on an edge. “I can’t see just why I’ve got to ask people; sometimes I think I’m about old enough to do as I please.”
“Why, of course, mother,” soothed the daughter-in-law. “Would you go and see the girls before you’d start?”
“No, I don’t believe I would,” answered the old woman, her voice relaxing under this acquiescence. “They’d only make a fuss. They’ve both got good homes and good men, and they’re married to them right and lawful, and there’s nothing to worry about. Besides, I’d just get interested in the children, and that’d make it harder. I’ve done the best I knew how by the girls, and I don’t know as they’ve got any reason to complain”–
“Why, no, mother,” interrupted the daughter-in-law, with rising feathers, “I never heard anybody say but what you’d done well by all your children. I only thought they’d want to see you. I think they’d come over if they knew it–well, of course, Angie couldn’t, having a young baby so, but Laura she’d come in a minute.”
“Well, I don’t believe I want to see them,” persisted Mrs. Moxom. “It’ll only make it harder. I guess you needn’t let them know I’m goin’. Ethel and I’ll start as soon as she can get ready. Seems like Rob’s having a pretty hard time. He couldn’t come after Ethel now if he wanted to. It wouldn’t be right for him to leave that–that–old gentleman.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want the girls to have any hard feelings towards me.”
“The Moxom girls ain’t a-going to have any hard feelings towards you, Emma,” asserted the old woman, with emphasis.
“She has the queerest way of talking about your sisters, Jason,” Mrs. Weaver confided to her husband later. “It makes me think, sometimes, she’s failing pretty fast.”
V
As the road to the foot of the trail grew steeper, Rob Kendall found an increasing difficulty in guiding his team with one hand. His bride drew herself from his encircling arm reluctantly.
“You’d better look after the horses,” she said, with a vivid blush. “What’ll grandmother think of us?”
The young fellow removed the offending arm and reached back to pat the old lady’s knee.
“I ain’t afraid of grandmother,” he said joyously. “Grandmother’s a brick. If she stays out here long, she’ll soon be the youngest woman on the mesa. I shouldn’t wonder if she’d pick up some nice old gentleman herself–how’s that, grandmother?” He bent down and kissed his wife’s ear. “Catch me going back on grandmothers after this!”
“You haven’t changed a bit, Rob,” said Ethel fondly; “has he, grandmother?” She turned her radiant smile upon the withered face behind her.
The old woman did not answer. The newly wedded couple resumed their rapturous contemplation of each other.
“How’s that funny old man, Rob?” asked Ethel, smoothing out her dimples.
“Old Mosey? He’s pretty rocky. I’m afraid he won’t pull through.” Rob strove to adjust his voice to the subject. “I’d ‘a’ got a house down in town, but I didn’t like to leave him. We’ll have to go pretty soon, though. I’m afraid you’ll be lonesome up here.”