XXIII
HETTY'S AVOWAL
The dusk Hetty had anxiously waited for was creeping across the prairiewhen she and Miss Schuyler pulled up their horses in the gloom of thebirches where the trail wound down through the Cedar bluff. The weatherhad grown milder and great clouds rolled across the strip of sky betweenthe branches overhead, while the narrow track amidst the whitened trunkswas covered with loose snow. There was no frost, and Miss Schuyler feltunpleasantly clammy as she patted her horse, which moved restively now andthen, and shook off the melting snow that dripped upon her; but Hettyseemed to notice nothing. She sat motionless in her saddle with themoisture glistening on her furs, and the thin white steam from thespume-flecked beast floating about her, staring up the trail, and when sheturned and glanced over her shoulder her face showed white and drawn.
"He must be coming soon," she said, and Miss Schuyler noticed the strainedevenness of her voice. "Yes, of course he's coming. It would be toohorrible if we could not find him."
"Jake Cheyne and his cavalry boys would save the bridge," said FloraSchuyler, with a hopefulness she did not feel.
Hetty leaned forward and held up her hand, as though to demand silencethat she might listen, before she answered her.
"There are some desperate men among the homestead-boys, and if they foundout they had been given away they would cut the track in another place,"she said. "If they didn't and Cheyne surprised them, they would fire onhis troopers and Larry would be blamed for it. He would be chasedeverywhere with a price on his head, and anyone he wouldn't surrender tocould shoot him. Flo, it is too hard to bear, and I'm afraid."
Her voice failed her, and Miss Schuyler, who could find no words toreassure her, was thankful that her attention was demanded by her restivehorse. The strain was telling on her, too, and, with less at stake thanher companion, she was consumed by a longing to defeat the schemes of thecattle-men, who had, it seemed to her with detestable cunning, decided notto warn the station agent, and let the great train go, that they mightheap the more obloquy upon their enemies. The risk the engineer andbrakesmen ran was apparently nothing to them, and she felt, as Hetty did,that Larry was the one man who could be depended on to avert bloodshed.Yet there was still no sign of him.
"If he would only come!" she said.
There was no answer. Loose snow fell with a soft thud from the birchbranches, and there was a little sighing amidst the trees. It was rapidlygrowing darker, but Hetty sat rigidly still in her saddle, with her handclenched on the bridle. Five long minutes passed. Then, she turnedsuddenly, exultation in her voice.
"Flo," she said, "he's coming!"
Miss Schuyler could hear nothing for another minute or two, and then, whena faint sound became audible through the whispering of the trees, shewondered how her companion could be sure it was the fall of hoofs, or thatthe horse was not ridden by a stranger. But there was no doubt in Hetty'sface, and Flora Schuyler sighed as she saw it relax and a softness creepinto the dark eyes. She had seen that look in the faces of other women andknew its meaning.
The beat of hoofs became unmistakable, and she could doubt no longer thata man was riding down the trail. He came into sight in another minute, ashadowy figure swinging to the stride of a big horse, with the line of arifle-barrel across his saddle, and then, as he saw them, rode up at agallop, scattering the snow.
"Hetty!" he said, a swift flush of pleasure sweeping his face, and MissSchuyler set her lips as she noticed that he did not even see her.
Hetty gathered up her bridle, and wheeled her horse. "Ride into thebluff--quick," she said. "Somebody might see us in the trail."
Larry did as he was bidden, and when the gloom of the trees closed aboutthem, sprang down and looped his bridle round a branch. Then, he stood byHetty's stirrup, and the girl could see his face, white in the faint lightthe snow flung up. She turned her own away when she had looked down onit.
"I have had an anxious day, but this makes up for everything," he said."Now--and it is so long since I have seen you--can't we, for just a fewminutes, forget our troubles?"
He held out his hand, as though to lift her down, but the girl turned hereyes on him and what he saw in them checked him suddenly.
"No," she said, with a tremor in her voice, "we can't get away from them.You must not ask any question until you have heard everything!"
She spoke with a swift conciseness that omitted no point and made thestory plain, for there was a high spirit in the girl, and a tangible perilthat could be grappled with had a bracing effect on her. Grant's face grewintent as he listened, and Hetty, looking down, could see the firmer setof his lips, and the glint in his eyes. The weariness faded out of it, andonce more she recognized the alert, resourceful, and quietly resoluteLarry she had known before the troubles came. He turned swiftly andclasped her hand.
"I wonder if you know how much you have done for me?"
Hetty smiled and allowed her fingers to remain in his grasp. "Then, youhave heard nothing of this?" she said.
"No," said the man. "But Hetty----"
Again the girl checked him with a gesture. "And I need not ask you whetheryou would have had a hand in it?"
Grant laughed a little scornful laugh that was more eloquent than manyprotestations. "No," he said, "you needn't. I think you know me betterthan that, Hetty?"
"Yes," said the girl softly. "You couldn't have had anything to do withthat kind of meanness. Larry, how was it they did not tell you?"
She felt the grasp of the man's fingers slacken and saw his arm fall tohis side. His face changed suddenly, growing stern and set, until heturned his head away. When he looked round again the weariness was oncemore plain in it, and she almost fancied he had checked a groan.
"You have brought me back to myself," he said. "Only a few seconds ago Icould think of nothing but what you had done for me. I think I was almostas happy as a man could be, and now----"
Hetty laid her hand on his shoulder. "And now? Tell me, Larry."
"No," said the man. "You have plenty of troubles of your own."
The grasp of the little hand grew tighter, and when Grant looked up he sawthe girl smiling down on him half-shyly, and yet, as it were,imperiously.
"Tell me, dear," she said.
Larry felt his heart throb, and his resolution failed him. He could seethe girl's eyes, and their compelling tenderness.
"Well," he said, huskily, "what I have dreaded has come. The men I havegiven up everything for have turned against me. No, you must not think Iam sorry for what I have done, and it was right then; but they havelistened to some of the crazy fools from Europe and are letting looseanarchy. I and the others--the sensible Americans--have lost our hold onthem, and yet it was we who brought them in. We took on too big acontract--and I'm most horribly afraid, Hetty."
The light had almost gone, but his face still showed drawn and white andHetty bent down nearer him.
"Put your hand in mine, Larry," she said softly. "I have something to tellyou."
The man obeyed her, wondering, while a thrill ran through him as themittened fingers closed upon his own.
"Hetty," he said, "I have only brought trouble on everyone. I'm not fit tospeak to you."
"No," said the girl, with a throb in her voice. "You have only done whatvery few other men would have dared to do, and many a better girl than Iam would be proud to be fond of you. Now listen, Larry. For years you wereever so good to me, and I was too mean and shallow and selfish even tounderstand what you were giving me. I fancied I had a right to everythingyou could do. But come nearer, Larry."
She drew him closer to her, until his garments pressed the horse's flankand the blanket skirt she wore, and leaned down still further with herhand upon his shoulder.
"I found out, dear, and now I want you to forgive me and always love me."
The grasp on her hand became compelling, and she moved her foot from thestirrup as the man's arm reached upwards towards her waist. Had she wishedshe could not have helped herself; as she slipped f
rom the saddle the armclosed round her and it was several seconds before she and Grant stood apace apart, with tingling blood, looking at one another. There was no signof Flora Schuyler, they were alone, enfolded in the silence of the bluff.
"It is wonderful," he said. "I can't even talk, Hetty. I want to realizeit."
Hetty laughed but there was a note in her voice that set the man's heartbeating furiously. "Yes, it is wonderful it should come to me," she said."No, you needn't look round, Larry. There is nothing and nobody thatcounts now except you and me. I am just beginning to understand yourpatience, and how hard I must have been to you."
"I waited a long time," he said. "It was worth while. Even the troubles Ifelt crushing me seem very little now. If they were only over, and therewas nothing to come between you and me!"
"Larry," the girl said very softly, "are you sure they need do that? Ithas been so horrible lately, and I can't even sleep at night for thinkingof the risks that you are taking."
Grant closed one hand, but it was too dark now for Hetty to see his face,and she was glad of it.
"You mean--" he said hoarsely, and stopped.
"Just this," her voice almost a whisper. "I am frightened of it all, andwhen you want me I will come to you. No, wait just a little. I could nevermarry the man who was fighting against my father and the people I belongto, while, now I know what you are, I could never ask him to go back onwhat he felt was right; but, Larry, the men you did so much for haveturned against you, and the things they are doing are not right, and wouldnever please you. Can't we go away and leave the trouble behind us? Nobodyseems to want us now."
There was a cold dew on the man's forehead the girl could not see. "Andyour father?" he said.
"I would never help anyone against him, as I told you," said the girl."Still, there are times when his bitterness almost frightens me. It ishard to admit it, even to you, but I can't convince myself that he and theothers are not mistaken, too. I can't believe any longer that you arewrong, dear. Besides, though he says very little, I feel he wants me tomarry Clavering."
"Clavering?" said Larry.
"Yes," said Hetty, with a shiver. "I dislike him bitterly--and I should besafe with you."
Grant held out his hands. "Then, you must come, my dear. One way or otherthe struggle will soon be over now, and if I have to go out an outcast Ican still shelter you."
THERE WAS A NOTE IN HER VOICE THAT SET THE MAN'SHEART BEATING FURIOUSLY.--Page 267.]
The girl drew back a pace. "I can't turn against my own people--but yourshave turned on you. That makes it easier. If you will take me, dear, wewill go away."
Grant turned from her, and ground his heel into the snow. He had alreadygiven up almost everything that made life bright to him, but he had neverfelt the bitterness he did at that moment, when he realized that anotherand heavier sacrifice was demanded of him.
"Hetty," he said slowly, "can't you understand? I and the others broughtthe homesteaders in; this land has fed me and given me all I have, and nowI can't go back on it and them. I would not be fit to marry you if I wentaway."
The words were very simple, but the man's voice betrayed what he felt.Hetty understood, and the pride she had no lack of came to the rescue.
"Yes," she said with a little sob, "Larry you are right. You will forgiveme, dear, for once more tempting you. Perhaps it will all come right byand by. And now I must go."
There was a crackle of brittle twigs, and Grant dimly saw Miss Schuylerriding towards them. Reaching out, he took Hetty's hands and drew hercloser.
"There is just one thing you must promise me, my dear," he said. "If yourfather insists on your listening to Clavering, you will let me know. ThenI will come to Cedar for you, and there are still a few Americans who havenot lost confidence in their leader and will come with me. Nothing mustmake you say yes to him."
"No," said Hetty simply. "If I cannot avoid it any other way, I will sendfor you. I can't wait any longer--and here is Flo."
Larry stooped; but before she laid her foot in the hand he held out forher to mount by, Hetty bent her head swiftly, and kissed him.
"Now," she said softly, "do you think I could listen to Clavering? Youwill do what you have to, and I will wait for you. It is hard on us both,dear; but I can't help recognizing my duty, too."
Larry lifted her to the saddle, and she vanished into the gloom of thebirches before he could speak to Miss Schuyler, who wheeled her horse andfollowed her. A few minutes more and he was riding towards Fremont as fastas his horse could flounder through the slushy snow, his face grown setand resolute again, for he knew he had difficult work to do.
"I don't quite know what has come over you, Larry," Breckenridge said anhour or two later with a puzzled look at Grant as he lifted his eyes fromthe writing pad on his knee. "I haven't seen you so obviously contentedfor months, and yet the work before us may be grim enough. The mostunpleasant point about it is that Clavering must have got hold of one ofyour warrant forms. It was a mistake to trust anybody with one not filledin."
"Well, I feel that way too," Grant confessed, "and at the same time I'mdesperately anxious. We are going to have trouble with the boys rightalong the line, and there is no man living can tell what will happen ifany of them go down in an affair with the cavalry."
"It wouldn't be difficult to guess what the consequences would be if theycut the track just before the stock train came through. You are quite surethey have not changed their minds again?"
"Yes," said Larry quietly. "I bluffed it out of Harper. He would havetaken a hand in, and only kicked when it came to taking lives. More of theothers cleared out over that point, too, and as the rest were half-afraidof some of those who objected giving them away, they changed their plans;but it seems quite certain they mean to pull the rails up at the bend onthe down grade by the bunch grass hollow. It is fortunate, any way. Cheyneand his cavalry will be watching the bridge, you see; but you had betterget ready. I'll have the last instructions done directly, and it will bemorning before you are through."
Breckenridge poured himself out a big cup of coffee from the jug on thestove, put on a black leather jacket, and went out to the stable. When hecame back, Grant handed him a bundle of notes.
"You will see every man gets one and tell him all he wants to know. I darenot put down too much in black and white. They are to be round at the risebehind the depot at six Thursday night."
"You believe they will come?"
"Yes," Grant said firmly. "They are good men, and I'm thankful there arestill so many of them, because just now they are all that is standingbetween this country and anarchy."
Breckenridge smiled a little, but his voice was sympathetic. "Well," hesaid, "I am glad, on my own account, too. It's nicer to have the chanceswith you when you have to reckon with men of the kind we are going tomeet, but I shall not be sorry when this trouble's through. It is my firstattempt at reforming and a little of it goes a long way with me. I don'tknow that there is a more thankless task than trying to make folks betteroff than they want, or deserve, to be."
He went out with a packet of messages, and Grant sat still, with care inhis face, staring straight in front of him.
The Cattle-Baron's Daughter Page 23
