The One-Way Trail: A story of the cattle country

by Ridgwell Cullum

  CHAPTER XI

  A WEDDING-DAY IN BARNRIFF

  If signs and omens meant anything at all, Eve Marsham and WillHenderson were about to embark on a happy and prosperous married life.So said the women of Barnriff on the day fixed for the wedding. Thefeminine heart of Barnriff was a superstitious organ. It loved andhugged to itself its belief in forebodings and portents. It neverfailed to find the promise of disaster or good-fortune in thetrivialities of its daily life. It was so saturated with superstitionthat, on the morning of the wedding, every woman in the place was onthe lookout for some recognized sign, and, finding none, probablyinvented one.

  And the excitement of it all. The single-minded, wholesome delight inthe thought of this wedding was as refreshing as the crisp breezes ofa first bright spring day. To a woman they reveled in the thought. Itwas the first wedding actually to take place in the village for overseven years. Everybody marrying during that period had elected to seekthe consummation of their happiness elsewhere. And as a consequence ofthis enthusiasm, there was a surplus of help in getting themeeting-room suitably clad for the occasion, and the preparations forthe "sociable" and dance which were to follow the ceremony.

  Was there ever such a day in Barnriff? the women asked each other.None of them remembered one. Then look at the day itself. True it wasthe height of summer; but then who had not seen miserable weather insummer? Look at the sun gleaming out of a perfect azure.

  Mrs. Crombie, a florid dame of adequate size, if of doubtful dignityto fill her position as spouse of Barnriff's first citizen, draggedMrs. Horsley, the lay preacher's wife, through the door of the MissionRoom, in which, with the others, they were both working at thedecorations, to view the sky.

  "Look at it, my dear!" she cried enthusiastically. "Was there ever abetter omen for the poor dear? Not a cloud _anywhere_. Not one. Andit's deep blue, too; none of your steel blues, or one of them fadyblues running to white. Say, ain't she lucky? Now, when Crombie tookme the heavens was just pouring. Everybody said 'Tears' prompt enough,and with reason. That's what _they_ said. But me and Crombie has nevershed a tear; no, not one. We've just laffed our way clear through tothis day, we have. Well, I won't say Crombie does a heap of laffing,but you'll take my meaning."

  And Carrie Horsley took it. She would have agreed to anything so longas she could get a chance to empty her reservoirs of enthusiasm intothe Barnriff sea.

  "You sure are a lucky woman, Kate. Maybe the rain wasn't an omen foryou at all. Maybe it was for the folks that _didn't_ marry on thatday. You see, it's easy reading these things wrong. Now I never readomens wrong, an' the one I see this morning when I was bathin' mylittle Sammy boy was dead sure. You see, I got to bathe him everymorning for his spots, which is a heap better now. And I'm real glad,for Abe has got them spots on his mind. He guessed it was my bloodout of order. Said I needed sulphur in my tea. I kicked at that, an'said he'd need to drink it, too. An', as he allowed he'd given up teaon account of his digestion, nothing come of it. Of course I knewSammy boy's spots was on'y a teething rash, but men is so queer;spechully if the child's the first, and a boy. Now what----"

  "And the omen, dear?" inquired Mrs. Crombie, who had all a woman'sinterest in babies, but was just then ensnared in the net ofsuperstition which held all Barnriff.

  "The omen? Oh, yes, I was coming to that. You see, as I said I canread them, an' this is one that never fails, never. I've _proved it_.When you prove an omen, stick to it, I says--and it pays. Now, thismorning I set my stockings on the wrong--ahem--legs, and not one, but_both_ of them was inside out. There's bad luck, as you might say. Andfolks say that to escape it you must keep 'em that ways all day. But Ichanged 'em! Yes, mam, I changed 'em right in the face of misfortune,as you might say. And why? you ask. Because I've done it before, andnothing come of it. And how did I change 'em? you ask. Why, I stood tomy knees in Sammy's bath water, an' then told Abe I'd got my feet wetbathing him. He says change 'em right away, Carrie, he says, and, himbeing my man, why I just changed 'em, seein' I swore to obey him atthe altar."

  "Very wise," observed Kate Crombie, sapiently. "But this omen forEve----?"

  "To be sure. I was just coming to it. Well, it wasn't much, as youmight say, but I've proved it before. It come when I was ladling outAbe's cereal--he always has a cereal for breakfast. He says it easeshis tubes when he preaches for the minister--well, it come as I wasladling out his cereal; it was oatmeal porridge, Scotch--somethingcome over me, an' my arm shook. It was most unusual. Well, some of thecereal dropped right on to the floor. Kate Crombie, that porridgedropped, an' when I looked there was a ring on the floor, a ring, mydear. A wedding-ring of porridge, as you might say. Did I call Abe'sattention to it? I says, 'Abe,' I says, 'look!' He looked. And notgetting my meaning proper, he says, 'Call the dog an' let him lick itup!' With that I says, 'Abe, ain't you got eyes?' And he being slow insome things guessed he had. Then seeing I was put about some, he says,'Carrie,' he says, 'what d'ye mean?' I see he was all of a quiverthen, and feeling kind of sorry for his ignorance I just shrugged athim. 'Marriage bed!' says I. 'And,' I says, feeling he hadn't quitegot it, 'in Barnriff.' If that wasn't Eve's good luck, why, I askyou."

  "And when you were bathing----"

  "Oh, that--that was another," Carrie replied hastily. "I'll tellyou----"

  But Kate heard herself called away at that moment, and hurried backinto the hall. Her genius for administration was the ruling power inthe work of decoration, and the enthusiasm of the helpers needed hercontrolling hand to get the work done by noon, which was the timefixed for the wedding.

  But omen was the talk everywhere; it was impossible to avoid it. Everysoul in the place had her omen. Jane Restless had a magpie. That verymorning the bird had stolen a leaden plummet belonging to Restless andcarried it to her cage, where she promptly set to work to hatch itout. And she fought when Zac went to take it away. She made such aracket when it was gone that Jane was sorry, and picked out a smallchicken's egg and put it into the bird's cage. "And, my dears," sheconcluded triumphantly, "the langwidge that bird used trying to coverup all that egg was simply awful. What about that for luck? A magpiesittin' on a wedding-day!"

  But, perhaps, of the whole list of omens that happened that morning,Pretty Wilkes, the baker's wife, held the greatest interest for themall. She was a woman whose austerity was renowned in the village, andWilkes was generally considered something of a hero. Her man had wonseventy dollars at poker the previous night, and had got very drunk inthe process. And being well aware of the vagaries of his wife's senseof conjugal honor, had, with a desperate drunken cunning, bestowed itover night in the coal-box, well knowing that it was one of his manydomestic pleasures to have the honor of lighting the cook-stove forhis spouse every morning. "And would you believe it, girls?" she criedecstatically. "If it hadn't have been Eve's wedding-day, and I'd gotto bake cakes for the sociable, and so had to be up at three this verymorning, while he was still dreaming he was a whiskey trust or someother drunken delusion, I'd sure never have seen that wad nor touchedfive cents of it, he's that close. Say, girls," she beamed, "I neversaid a word to Jake for getting soused, not a word. And I let himsleep right on, an' when he woke to light fires, and start baking, Ijust give him a real elegant breakfast with cream in his coffee, an'asked him if he'd like a bottle of rye for his head. But say, I neversee him shovel coal harder in my life than he did in that coal-boxafter breakfast. I'd like to gamble he's still shovelin' it."

  It certainly was a gala day in Barnriff. The festivity had evenpenetrated to the veins of Silas Rocket, and possessed him of anatmosphere which "let him in" to the extent of three rounds ofdrinks to the boys before eleven o'clock. The men for the most parttook a long time with their morning ablutions. But the effect wasreally impressive and quite worth the extra trouble. The result solightened up the dingy village, that some of them, one realized, hadconsiderable pretensions to good looks. And a further curious thingabout this cleansing process was that it affected their attitudetoward each other. Their talk became l
ess familiar, a wave ofsomething almost like politeness set in. It suggested a cleanstarched shirt just home from the laundry. They walked aboutwithout their customary slouch, and each man radiated an atmosphereof conscious rectitude that became almost importance. Peter Blunt,talking to Doc Crombie, said he'd never seen so many precise creasesin broadcloth since he'd lived in Barnriff.

  There was no business to be done that day. Even Smallbones was forcedto keep his doors shut, though not without audible protest. Heasserted loudly that Congress should be asked to pass a law preventingmarriages taking place in mercantile centres.

  No one saw the bride and bridegroom that morning except Peter Bluntand Annie Gay. Annie was acting as Eve's maid for the occasion. Shepositively refused to let the girl dress herself, and though she couldnot be her bridesmaid, had expressed her deliberate intention of beingher strong support. She and Eve had worked together on the weddingdress, which was of simple white lawn. They had discussed together thetrousseau, and made it. They had talked and talked together over thewhole thing for two months, and she had handed Eve so much advice outof her store of connubial wisdom, that she was not going to give upher place now.

  So it was arranged that Gay was to give Eve away, and Annie was to beready at the girl's elbow. That was how Annie put it. And no one butherself knew quite what she meant. However, it seemed to be perfectlysatisfactory to Eve, and their preparations continued, a whirl ofdelight to them both.

  Peter Blunt was Will's best man. And he found himself left withnothing much to do but smile upon inquirers after the bridegroom onthe eventful day. His other duties were wrested from him by anybodyand everybody in the place, which was a matter of considerable relief,although he was willing enough. But there was one other duty whichcould not be snatched from him, and it was one that weighed seriouslyon his kindly mind. It was the care of the wedding-ring. That, and thefear lest he should not produce it at exactly the right moment, gavehim much cause for anxiety. Mrs. Gay had done her duty by him. She hadmarked the place in the service which he must study. And he hadstudied earnestly. But as the hour of the wedding approached hisnerves tried him, and between fingering the ring in his waistcoatpocket and repeating his "cues" over to himself, he reached a painfulcondition of mental confusion which bordered closely on a breakdown.

  At half-past eleven the village was abustle with people emerging fromtheir houses. It was Gay who sighed as he surveyed the throng. Not asoul but had a broad smile on his or her face. And what with that, andthe liberal use of soap, such an atmosphere of health had been arrivedat that he pictured in his mind the final winding up of his affairs asan undertaker.

  Then came the saunter over to the Mission Room. Everybody sauntered;it was as if they desired to prolong the sensation. Besides, the womenrequired to look about them--at other women--and the men followed intheir wake, feeling that in all such affairs they acknowledged thefeminine leadership. They felt that somehow they were there only onsufferance, a necessary evil to be pushed into the background, likeany other domestic skeleton.

  The Mission Room was packed, and the rustle of starched skirts, andthe cleanly laundry atmosphere that pervaded the place was wonderfullywholesome. The gathering suggested nothing so much as simple humannature dipped well in the purifying soap-suds of sympathy, rubbed outon the washing board of religious emotion, and ironed and goffered toa proper sheen of wholesome curiosity. They were assembled there towitness the launching of a sister's bark upon the matrimonial waters,and in each and every woman's mind there were thoughts picturingthemselves in a similar position. The married women reflected on pastscenes, while the maids among them possibly contemplated the time whenthat ceremonial would be performed with them as the central interest.

  The happiness was not all Eve's, it was probably shared by themajority of the women present. She was the object that conjured theirminds from the dull monotony of their daily routine to realms ofhappy fancy. And the picture was drawn in a setting of Romance, withLove well in the foreground, and the guardian angel of PerfectHappiness hovering over all. No doubt somewhere in the picture a manwas skulking, but even in the light of matrimonial experience this wasnot sufficient to spoil the full enjoyment of those moments.

  The bridegroom arrived. Yes, he was certainly good-looking in his newsuit from "down East." Dressed as he was he did not belong toBarnriff. He looked what he had been brought up, of an altogetherdifferent class to the folks gathered in the room.

  One or two of the matrons shook their heads. They did not altogetherapprove of him. He was well enough known for a certain unsteadiness;then, too, there was a boyishness about his look, an irresponsibilitywhich was not general among the hard features of the men they knew.Most of these thought that Eve was rather throwing herself away. Theyall believed that she would have done far better to have chosen JimThorpe.

  Then came the bride, and necks craned and skirts rustled, and audiblewhisperings were in the air. Annie Gay, following behind, heard andsaw, and a thrill of delight brought tears to her sympathetic eyes.She knew how pretty Eve was. Had she not dressed her? Had she notfeasted her eyes on her all the morning? Had she not been a prey to agood honest feminine envy?

  And Eve's dress was almost as pretty as herself. There were just a fewtouches of a delicate pink on the white lawn to match her own warmthof coloring. Her gentle eyes were lowered modestly as she walkedthrough the crowd, but if their pretty brown was hidden from thepublic gaze her wealth of rich, warm hair was not, and Eve's hair wasthe delight and envy of every woman in Barnriff. Yes, they were allvery, very pleased with her, particularly as she, being a dressmakerwith all sorts of possibilities in the way of a wedding-dress withinher reach, had elected to wear a dress which any one of them couldhave afforded, any one of them had possibly worn in her time.

  The ceremony proceeded with due solemnity. The minister was allsympathetic unction, and was further a perfect model of dignifiedpatience when Peter Blunt finally scrambled the ring into thebridegroom's hand several lines later than was his "cue," but in timeto save himself from utter disgrace. And the end came emotionally, aswas only to be expected in such a community. Kate Crombie, beingleader of the village society, started it. She promptly laid her headon Jake Wilkes' shoulder and sniveled. Nor was it until he turned hishead and fumbled out awkward words of consolation to her, that thereek of stale rye warned her of her mistake, and she promptly came toand looked for her husband to finish it out on.

  Annie Gay wept happy tears, and laughed and cried joyously. JaneRestless borrowed her man's bandana and blew her nose like a steamsiren, declaring that the heat always gave her catarrh. Carrie Horsleyguessed she'd never seen so pretty a bride so elegantly dressed, andwept down the front of Eve's spotless lawn the moment she got nearenough. Mrs. Rust sniffed audibly, and hoped she would be happy, butwarned her strongly against the tribulations of an ever-increasingfamily, and finally flopped heavily into a chair calling loudly forbrandy.

  It was, in Doc Crombie's words, "the old hens who got emotions." Itwas only the younger women, the spinsters, who laughed and flirtedwith the men, giggling hysterically at the sallies ever dear at amatrimonial function which flew from lip to lip. But then, as PrettyWilkes told her particular crony Mrs. Rust later on at the sociable--

  "It was the same with us, my dear," she said feelingly. "Speakingpersonal, before I was married, I'd got the notion, foolish-like, thatevery man had kind o' got loose out of heaven, an' we women orter setup a gilded cage around 'em, an' feed 'em cookies, an' any otherelegant fancy truck we could get our idiot hands on. They was a sortof idol to be bowed an' scraped to. They was the rulers of ourdestiny, the lords of the earth. But now I'm of the opinion that thebest man among 'em couldn't run a low down hog ranch withoutdisgracin' hisself."

  It was not till after the ceremony was over, and before the"sociable," which was to precede the bride and bridegroom's departurefor Will's shack up in the hills, where she was to spend a fortnight'shoneymoon before returning to Barnriff to take up again the work ofher dressmaki
ng business, that Peter Blunt had time to think of otherthings. He was not required in the ordering of the "sociable." Thewomen would look to that.

  Before he left the Mission Room, to return to his hut to see that hispreparations were complete for Elia to take up his abode with him forthe next fortnight--he had finally obtained Eve's consent to thisarrangement--he scanned the faces of the assembled crowd closely. Hehad seen nothing of Jim Thorpe during the last two months, except onthe rare occasions when the foreman of the "AZ's" had visited thesaloon. And at these times neither had mentioned Eve's wedding. Now hewas anxious to find out if Jim had been amongst the spectators at thewedding, a matter which to his mind was of some importance. It wasimpossible to ascertain from where he stood, and finally he made hisway to the bottom of the hall where the door had been opened andpeople were beginning to move out. As he reached the back row bencheshe bumped into the burly Gay.

  "Seen Thorpe?" he inquired quickly.

  Gay pointed through the door.

  "Yonder," he said. "Say, let's get a drink. This dogone marryin'racket's calc'lated to set a camel dry."

  But Peter wanted Thorpe and refused the man's invitation. He was gladJim had come in for the wedding, and hurried out in pursuit. He caughthis man in the act of mounting his broncho.

  "Say, Jim!" he exclaimed, as he hastened up.

  Nor did he continue as the ranchman turned and faced him. He had neverseen quite such an expression on Jim's face before. The dark eyes werefiercely alight, the clean-cut brows were drawn together in anexpression that might have indicated either pain or rage. His jawswere hard set. And the pallor of his skin was plainly visible throughthe rich tanning of his face.

  "Well?"

  The monosyllable was jerked out through clenched teeth, and hadsomething of defiance in it. Peter fumbled.

  "I'm glad you came in," he said, a little helplessly.

  The reply he received was a laugh so harsh, so bitter, that the otherwas startled. It was the laugh of a beaten man who strives vainly tohide his hurt. It was an expression of tense nerves, and told of theagony of a heart laboring under its insufferable burden. It was thesign of a man driven to the extremity of endurance, telling, only toosurely, of the thousand and one dangers threatening him. Peterunderstood, and his own manner steadied into that calm strength whichwas so much the man's real personality.

  "I was just going over to my shack," he said. "You'd best walk yourhorse over."

  Jim shook his head.

  "I'm getting back right away."

  "Well, I won't press you," Peter went on, his mild eyes glancingswiftly at the door of the Mission Room, where the villagers werescrambling out with a great chattering and bustle. "Just bring yourplug out of the crowd, Jim," he went on. "I'd like a word before yougo." Without waiting for his friend's consent, he took the horse'sbridle and led the animal on one side. And, oddly enough, hisdirection was toward the Mission Room door. Jim submitted without muchpatience.

  "What is it?" he demanded, as they halted within three yards of thedoor. "Guess I haven't a heap of time. McLagan's busy breaking horses,and he told me to get right out after the--ceremony."

  "Sure," nodded Peter, "I won't keep you long. I'd heard there wasbreaking on the 'AZ's.' That's just it. Now, I'm looking for a coupleof plugs. One for saddle, and the other to carry a pack. You see, I'vestruck color in a curious place, and it promises good. But it's awayoff, near twenty miles in the foot-hills. It's an outcrop I've beentracing for quite a while, and if my calculations are right, the reefcomes right along down here through Barnriff. You see, I've beenworking on those old Indian stories."

  He paused, and his quick eyes saw that the crowd was lining thedoorway waiting for Eve and her husband to come out. Jim wasinterested in his tale in spite of himself, yet fidgeting to getaway.

  "Well?" he demanded.

  "Well, I need two horses to carry myself and camp outfit. And---- Say,here's Eve," he cried, his large hand suddenly gripping Jim's arm anddetaining him. The ranchman shook him off and made to mount his horse.But Peter had no idea of letting him go.

  "Jim," he said in a tone for the man's ear alone, "you can't go yet.You can't push a horse through the crowd till she's gone. Say,boy--you can't go. Here she is. Just look at her. Look at her sweet,smiling eyes. Jim, look. That gal's real happy--now. Jim, there ain'tmuch happiness in this world. We're all chasing it. You and me,too--and we don't often find it. Say, boy, you don't grudge her herbit, do you? You'd rather see her happy, if it ain't with you,wouldn't you? Ah, look at those eyes. She's seen us, you and me.That's me being such a lumbering feller. And she's coming over to us;Will, too." His grip on the man's arm tightened, and his voice droppedto a low whisper. "Jim, you can't go, now. You've got to speak to her.You're a man, a real live man; get a grip on that--and don't forget."

  Then he released his hold, and Eve and Will came up. Eve's radianteyes smiled on him, but passed at once to Jim. And she left Will's armto move nearer to him. Peter's eyes were on the darkening brows ofher husband, and the moment Eve's hand slipped from his arm, he gavethe latter no choice but to speak to him. He began at once, and withall his resource held him talking, while Eve demanded Jim'scongratulations.

  "Jim," she said, "I haven't seen you since--since----"

  "No, Eve." Then the man cleared his throat. It was parching, and hefelt that words were impossible. What trick was this Peter had playedon him? He longed to flee, yet in the face of all that crowd he couldnot. He knew he must smile, and with all the power of his body he sethimself to the task.

  "You see we've been up to our necks in work. I--I just snatched themorning to see you--you married."

  "And no congratulations? Oh, Jim! And I've always looked on you andPeter as--as my best friends."

  Every word she uttered struck home through the worn armor of hisrestraint. He longed madly to seize this woman in his arms and tearher from the side of his rival. The madness of his love cried out tohim, and sent the blood surging to his brain. But he fought--foughthimself with almost demoniac fury, and won.

  "Eve," he said, with an intensity that must have struck her had shenot been so exalted by her own emotions, "I wish you the greatesthappiness that ever fell to a woman's lot. I hope, from the bottom ofmy heart, this world'll give you everything you most wish for. And,further, you are right to reckon Peter and me your best friends. As afavor, I ask you that whenever our friendship can be of service to youyou'll call upon it. Good-bye and--bless you."

  He had his reward, if reward it could be called. Eve thrust out onewhite-gloved hand and seized his, squeezing it with a gentle pressurethat set his blood throbbing through his veins afresh.

  Then the agony passed, and left him cold. The warm hand was withdrawn,and the girl turned back to her husband. Peter relinquished his ward.The big man's end had been accomplished. As husband and wife walkedaway, and the crowd dispersed, he turned to Jim, who stood gazingstraight in front of him. He looked into his face, and the smile inhis eyes disappeared. The expression of Jim's face had changed, andwhere before storm had raged in every pulse, now there was a growingpeace.

  "Jim," he said gently, "about those horses----"

  "Guess you won't need them now?"

  Thorpe looked up into the grizzled face with a half ironical smile,but without displeasure.

  "Peter, you had me beat from the start."

  But Peter shook his head.

  "It's you who've won to-day, boy. Guess you've beat the devil in youto a hash. Yes; I need those horses, an' you can get 'em for me fromMcLagan."