by Grey, Zane
"I thought so. He swore it."
"So he throwed you down for June?"
"Something like that, darling."
"Did you care?"
"Yes, I did. It hurt. I'm a vain creature. But I couldn't marry Henry. On my soul of honour, I couldn't."
"Why couldn't you, Miss Neece?"
"Because I loved you. I never knew how well until you ran away. Oh, Brazos--darling. Can I make up for the loss of June?"
"I reckon. But let me be straight with you, Jan. If June hadn't turned out faithless--neither you, however sweet and lovely you air, nor all the rest of the girls in the world, could have made up for the loss of her. Can you stand to heah thet?"
"Yes, Brazos, I--I can stand it," faltered Jan. "Brazos, can you stand another surprise?"
He eyed her askance. But Jan did not look formidable just then or anything to be dubious about. He drew her into his arms, yet held her back, so he could study her face.
"Shoot, Jan. You cain't knock me out again."
"I'll bet I can." She leaned back, toying with his scarf, hiding her eyes. "Could you stand a sweetheart--and a--a wife--who is very, very rich?"
"Good--Lord!" exploded. Brazos. "What you got up yore sleeve?"
"Brazos, if I'm a very rich girl--that won't make any difference to you?"
"You're talkin' riddles. But I reckon--if you was a very rich girl--I wouldn't feel turrible bad about it."
She let out a sweet peal of glad laughter and caught him around the neck. "Brazos, listen. Henry bought my share of Twin Sombreros Ranch and two thousand head of cattle."
Brazos sat mutely staring at this apparition--this angel of fortune--this living refutation of his vain judgment of women.
"You see, it hasn't turned out so badly, even if you have lost June."
"How much?" asked Brazos faintly.
"How much what? Oh, how much I love you? Oh, more than any girl ever loved any man."
"Jan, my heart is weak. Don't tease no more. How much did you sell out for?"
"I made a pretty good deal, Hank Bilyen said. For the cattle I got forty dollars a head. Figure that out."
"I cain't--darlin'--I cain't figger, or add--or anythin'."
"Well, that comes to eighty thousand dollars. And I sold my half of the 'ranch for twenty thousand. I brought the money with me."
"Mercy!" begged Brazos.
"I got a few thousand in cash, and the rest in drafts on the Las Animas bank. Now, Brazos, darling, now what are we going to do?"
"Now, Jan, darlin', what air we goin' to do?" mimicked Brazos in consternation.
"You're not exactly a poor cowboy, down at his heels. You can do things."
"Jan, I cain't do nothin' but love you," replied Brazos abjectly.
"Well, that's grand. But I prefer you do a little besides loving me. Brazos, those boys with Wess Tanner were sweet on me. And you know I'm unreliable. You had better put a halter on me while you have the chance. Dad always said that once I was haltered I'd steady down."
"Jan, at thet I believe you've changed--grown. But still the same old sweet devil. Will you take my solemn word?"
"Yes, Brazos, I will."
"Wal, before I entered thet door I knew I'd ask you to marry me--first, because thet old love came thunderin' back--second because I would have asked you if I hadn't loved you, I was struck so deep by yore trailin' me--and last because I could never let one word of range gossip get started about Jan Neece."
She appeared enraptured, yet there was a restraint, a doubt about her that puzzled Brazos. He caught his breath and asked her to marry him.
"Yes, darling," she replied, and hid her face upon his shoulder.
"When?" he flashed, tense and keen.
"Need we wait?" she asked. That indeed betrayed this frank and devilishly sweet Jan Neece at her truest.
"If I had my way we wouldn't wait atall," rang out Brazos.
"Your way is my way--and always shall be," declared the girl eloquently, "If it is possible I will marry you here."
"Jan! It's shore possible. Doan told me they had a church heah. Course they'd have to have a minister."
"Run, darling--and find out. Jan, you know, can change her mind."
Brazos leaped up, to forget his sombrero, and rush from the room.
Soon after, Brazos ran back to Mrs. Doan's door, halting when he came to it. He sensed a mysterious portent beyond that threshold. It checked him--held him with bated breath. But he knocked. There was no reply. Uncertain and strangely agitated, he entered the room. Jan was lying face down on the couch.
"Jan, dear, what ails you?"
"Oh, Brazos! I---I can't go through with it. I'm a little fourflush! I have none of the nerve you--you credited me with," burst from her in smothered tones.
Brazos's heart sank like lead. "Darlin', you cain't what?" he asked tenderly. "I reckon you mean--marry me?"
"No! No!" she cried frantically, raising her face, to disclose it tear-wet and shamed, with tragic eyes dark upon him. "I'm crazy to to marry you. I'll die if you won't have me. And, oh, misery, you'll hate me now!"
"Ump-umm, honey. I cain't hate you, no matter what you've done, so long as you're crazy to marry me."
"Brazos, I was just wild for you. I'd have done anything--anything. But now, you've been so sweet--and wonderful--I can't go through with it."
"Jan Neece, will you come out with it?" demanded Brazos in desperation. "That's--just--it. I'm not Jan Neece--I'm June!"
"Lord Almighty! Am I drunk or crazy?" burst out Brazos, tearing his hair and staring incredulously at her. "Who air you?"
"Oh, Brazos! Don't look so--so awful at me. It's I! June--June Neece! Not Jan. I couldn't live without you. It was Jan who eloped with Henry. And I thought you loved her most--that she could do anything with you--and I came here to find you--make you marry me first--then tell you afterward."
"You damned--devilish little cat!" declared Brazos, astounded beyond passion. "I don't believe you."
"Oh--Brazos," she wailed. "But darling, I am June. I swear to heaven I am. Jan couldn't have done this rash thing. She hadn't the nerve. She didn't love you enough. Why, I'm ashamed to admit, she was on Henry's neck as soon as you left. Brazos, you must see I'm telling the truth. If I were Jan, intending to get you by hook or crook--would I be betraying my plot now? No! I'd wait till we were--married."
There was incontestable logic in this passionate confession. Brazos believed her now. Only those kisses had deceived him. She had acted them faithfully enough, though perhaps once June had cast restraint and decorum aside, they had at last expressed her true fervour.
"I cain't believe you," said Brazos solemnly. "Not unless you prove you're June. I have had about all I can stand of taken' Jan for June--and June for Jan."
"Prove I'm June?" she echoed. "Of course I can. I am June. My name June is on the drafts for all that money."
Brazos sagged desperately under that potential proof.
"Aw, you could fool Henderson just as easy as me. Haven't you fooled everybody under the sun? No, Miss Neece, you gotta prove you're June."
"Wait till we're married," she pleaded, so sweetly and humbly that Brazos smothered another wild desire to snatch her to his breast. Then an idea flushed into his rapturous mind.
"No. And let me remind you thet pastor with Doan and Wess will be cornin' pretty pronto."
"Beloved! Trust me!" she whispered beseechingly. "I would die of shame if they came now."
"Listen. June Neece had a birthmark like a bluebell--on her laig--didn't she?"
"Who told you that?", cried the girl, blushing scarlet.
"I heahed that when I first came to Las Animas. Everybody knew about it. The only way the Neece twins could be told apart! Wal, if you air June you shore have thet birthmark. Now, haven't you?"
"Yes, I have," she retorted, at bay. "Will you trust me--until--?"
"I'll trust you afterward, forever. I reckon you deserve to suffer a little shame."
"Shame! I have not
hing to be ashamed of unless it's chasing an unchivalrous cowboy all over the south."
"Thet's a heap, I'm bound to admit--There! Girl, I reckon I heahed Wess's loud laugh out there. They've come with the parson. You better rustle or you may lose a husband."
"Brazos, if you force me I--I won't have you for a husband," she cried loftily. She was white of face again and her eyes burned with reproach.
"I'll risk thet, darlin'. You cain't get out of marryin' me now, if only to save yore good name and yore pride."
"Very well, cowboy! Come over to the light," she returned, with what seemed a calm disdain.
Brazos followed her haltingly to the window. He felt her gaze upon him and dared not meet it. Moreover, his eyes were glued to her shapely, capable hands as they grasped her gown at each side. She lifted it and her white skirts. Her trim ankles, her slender, graceful legs, her rounded knees and pink garters sharply outlined against her black stockings led Brazos's fascinated gaze to her white thighs.
"You should know this would be apple pie for Jan," she said with a suppressed giggle that belied her haughty scorn of this exacting lover. "I've forgotten which leg it's on--the left, I'm sure. Look--"
Merry voices outside preceded knocks on the door. Brazos, with the wonderful swiftness of that right land, snatched her skirts down.
"Aw, darlin', I was only foolin'," he whispered.
"Yes, you were," she taunted. "Did you see it?"
"No. I couldn't see nothin'. Besides, June, I shore knew you all the time."
"Liar! I could have fooled you--I wish--oh!"
Louder and more impatient knocks sounded upon the door. June smoothed her ruffled gown.
"Brazos, we're heah, all ready to make yu the happiest cowboy in Texas," called Wess, his voice ringing.
"Can we come in?" Doan's booming voice attested to the joy he felt. "Parson, papers, witnesses, an' all."
"Just a minnit more, Tom," drawled Brazos. "The lady has consented to become Mrs. Keene. But doggone it! She hasn't proved yet which one of the Twin Sombrero twins she really is!"
THE END
