FullReads

Blanche gave a low cry, a cry such as no woman had ever uttered in his presence, and fell upon her knees before him.

The cadence of her moan cut deep into his heart. He realized for the first time some part of her suffering, her temptations. Her eyes shone with a marvellous beauty. He was awed by the rapt expression of her face.

“Don’t do that,” he stammered. “Please get up.”

“You’re so good!” she breathed.

“Oh no, I’m not. I don’t know–I don’t pretend to judge–that’s all. Yesterday I did, but now–well, I leave the whole business with you and God. Please stand up.”

She rose, but stood looking upon him with a fixed, devouring look. He had never seen tears in her eyes before. She had been gay and sullen and tense and sad, but now she was transfigured with some emotion he could not follow. Her eyes were soft and dark, and her pale face, sad and sweet, was instinct with the tenderness of her coming maternity. The sturdy plainsman thrilled with unutterable pity as he looked down upon her.

There was a silence, and then Rivers came to Bailey’s side, and said, brokenly,

“Rob, old man, you’ve done me good–you always have done me good–I’ll be faithful to her, so help me God!”

Bailey understood him, and shook his hand. They stood for a moment, palm to palm, as if this were in some sense a marriage ceremony. Bailey broke the tension by saying:

“Well, now get your team–I wouldn’t let you take her out into the cold only I know she ought to be where a doctor can be reached. The quicker you go the better.”

While Rivers was gone he turned to her and helped her with her cloak and shawl. His heart went out toward her with a brother’s love. He talked with cheerful irrelevancy and bustled about, heating a bowlder for her feet and warming her overshoes.

“Now it’s all right. Jim will take care of you. Don’t worry about Will; I’ll go over and see him.” He wrapped her in every available blanket and shawl, and at last helped her outside and into the sleigh. He tucked the robe around her while Rivers held the restless horses. His voice trembled as he said:

“Now, Jim, get her under shelter as quick as you can. Leave the team at Wheatland. I’ll come after it in a day or two. I want to see somebody in town, anyway.”

The woman turned toward him. He saw her eyes shine through her veil. She bared her hand and extended it toward him. “I hope you and Estelle will be happy.”

He covered her hand with both of his. The gesture was swift and tender. It seemed to shield and forgive. Then drawing the robe over it without a word, he briskly said, “Well, Jim, I guess this is the fork in the road,” and he looked at his chum with misty eyes. Rivers turned away, and they again clasped hands without looking at each other.

“Good-bye, old man,” said Rivers.

“Good-bye, Jim, and good luck!”

Bailey saw his partner draw the woman close down under the shelter of his shoulder, while his powerful hand whirled the team to the south.

He stood in the lee of the shanty until the swift sleigh was a slowly moving speck on the plain, then he went in and sat down to muse on the wondrous last look in the woman’s eyes. “I wonder what Estelle will say?” he asked himself, and a sense of loneliness, of longing to see her, filled his heart with dreams.