Joelle's Secret
Page 16
“Have a sandwich, Joe.”
“That would be good.” She studied Edith carefully. Despite the hardness of the journey, there was a glow of health in Edith Riker’s face. Edith had impressed Joelle as being a woman of considerable unhappiness. Taking the sandwich, she waved it toward the high country.
“Owen says that’s five hundred feet high. He says people climb to the top and carve their name in it.”
“I’d like to do that.”
Lyman Riker, who was chewing steadily on a sandwich, gave his wife a look of disgust. “That’d be a waste of time. Who’s gonna see it?”
“Somebody will. A hundred years from now,” Edith said, “people will climb that rock. We’ll all be dead and gone, but they’ll see a name, Edith Riker, and they’ll say, ‘I wonder who she was? I wonder what she was like?’” She gave a self-conscious laugh and shrugged her shoulders. “That is foolishness, I guess.” Suddenly she said, “I’m going to climb that rock. I want a coal chisel, Lyman.”
Lyman stared at his wife. “Just the kind of a fool thing you would do. Ain’t you got enough work to do?”
Edith met his gaze steadily. “I’m going to climb it. Why don’t you come with me?”
“Not me. I’ve got better things to do.”
Edith stared at her husband as he rose and stalked away.
Artie was eating a sandwich. His face looked young and vulnerable. “I’ll go with you, Ma. I’d like to have my name up there too.”
Clyde Riker laughed. He had his father’s black eyes and black hair. He was a good-looking man but rough and aggressive. “You ain’t got enough to do, Artie.” He stalked off, and she said, “I’m going anyway. You want to come, Joe?”
“I guess not. You tell me about it when you get back.”
“Probably won’t be much to tell.”
After the meal was finished, Edith found a hammer and a coal chisel in the box of tools. She saddled one of the stock, swung into the saddle, dress and all, and then moved out. Fifteen minutes later she was at the foot of Chimney Rock. There were mounds of broken rock at the base, and she tied her horse off and began the climb to the top. By the time she did reach it, she was out of breath.
She found a prominent place and began to read the names of others. She was so intent on reading some of them, which had dates attached, that she forgot her problems. Finding a clear spot, she began chiseling her name. The rock was soft, not hard as she had feared, and she had gotten her first name engraved when suddenly a sound caught her attention. She turned to find Logan Temple who had come up beside her. He smiled and greeted her. “Hello, Edith. Doing a little name carving?”
Edith was embarrassed. “I suppose it’s ridiculous. My husband says no one will ever see it, but it’s something that I wanted to do.”
“I thought I’d do the same thing. I got a hammer and chisel from Harry, so if you don’t mind, I’ll put my name right here.”
Edith shrugged and continued, and as the two worked silently, the only sounds came from the cries of a bird circling overhead and the striking of the hammers onto the chisels.
Time moved on slowly, and occasionally Edith would steal a glance at Temple. She had not known many men like him, but something distinguished him off from others.
Finally Logan finished, and she turned to see that he had simply abbreviated his first name. “L. Temple,” she said. “You going to put a date on there?”
“I don’t guess so. My hands are soft. Look, I’ve worn blisters on them.” She looked at his hands and knew that no other man on the wagon train had hands this well formed, not toughened by hard work. She put the chisel down and looked at their names. She read them aloud, “L. Temple and Edith Riker.” She suddenly laughed.
He looked at her and said, “It’s sort of like a marriage, isn’t it?”
Edith was struck by his reply. The thought would never occur to her nor to any of the men in her family. “How do you mean, Logan?”
“Why, we’re joined together as long as this rock stands. Wouldn’t a wedding ceremony say something like that?”
“Have you ever been married?”
“Never have.”
“Why not?”
The question seemed to trouble Temple. He looked into the distance, and a long silence ensued. “I don’t know. Just too busy to get married, I suppose. Hard to get to be a doctor, you know.”
“It’s a good thing to be a doctor.”
“It wasn’t for me.”
Somehow Temple’s words shocked her. “Why not?” she said. “You get to help people.”
From far off came the howl of a dog, then it was cut off abruptly as if someone had struck or killed the animal. He turned to face her, and she saw that the marks of his beating had faded and noted how handsome he was. His face was lean and narrow, and his hair was fair—someone had cut it recently so that it was rather stylish. His eyes were warm brown, expressive, deep-set, and well shaped. There was a quick intelligence in the man, lines of wit around his mouth, and a hint of a temper around his brows. It was the face of a proud man who could have unusual charm and revealed an ability she had already seen in a man of this type.
“I killed a woman.”
Logan’s words shocked her. “How’d that happen?” she asked.
He threw his hands apart, and his lips drew into a thin bitter line. “I was drunk, and I operated on her, and I killed her just as surely as if I put—” He broke off and could not finish the sentence for a time. “Just as if I put a bullet in her brain.”
Edith Riker was suddenly startled when she saw tears form in Logan Temple’s eyes. She was not used to men crying. It wasn’t done by the men she knew, but somehow she understood that Logan Temple was not like the men she had known. A tremendous compassion came to her, and she moved beside him and took his hand. “Thank you for telling me, Logan.”
Temple shook his head, and an abysmal sorrow came to him then. “You—you must despise me. Men don’t cry.”
“I like you better for it,” she said. They were standing close, and he looked deep in her eyes. Suddenly he was drawn to her. At that moment Edith recognized what was passing between her and this man. They were close, and suddenly she reached out and put her hand on his upper arm. She saw her touch moved him, and he put his arms around her. Edith didn’t resist. He kissed her and then stepped back, shock in his eyes.
“I—I didn’t mean to do that. The last thing I want to do is take advantage of you, Edith.”
Edith Riker knew that she was as moved as Logan, and she said, “I guess we’re entitled to one mistake.” She picked up the chisel and hammer and turned to say, “Try not to be so bitter. You have so much to give.” She turned then and walked away, and he watched her go. As she left, she was thinking, I’ll remember that longer than I should. She was a woman who needed love as most women need air, but life had cut her off from it. I wonder what would have happened if I had married a man like that? The thought troubled her as she moved down the steep slope toward the camp.
Chapter Fifteen
MOST OF THE TRAVELERS had become accustomed to the hardships of the trail. Now the evening campfires burned brightly, and the camp was filled with the sound of cheerful laughter and often music.
Gerald Townsend and his wife, Hattie, were both fine musicians. They were in their early fifties, and each had the youthful look that some older people still maintained. Both of them were rotund with rosy cheeks and ready smiles. Gerald played a fiddle with great enthusiasm, and Hattie accompanied him, either on the mandolin or sometimes on a mountain dulcimer that made the most plaintive music some of the travelers had ever heard.
“I’m sick of this grub, Ma,” Leah Townsend said. She was seventeen years old with a wealth of flaming red hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her brother Burke grinned at her across the fire. He was chewing on a tough antelope steak and said, “I hear we’ll be hitting the buffalo anytime now. They say that’s the best eating there is.”
Leah tossed her head and s
hoved the remnant of the steak back on her plate. She then picked it up and tossed it to a lean, mustard-colored dog that bolted it at once and looked eagerly for more. “That’s all you get, Butch,” Leah said. She got up and stretched, and the thin fabric of her dress revealed the youthful contours of a rapidly maturing figure. She was no longer an adolescent but not quite yet a woman. She spent a great deal of her time thinking about making herself attractive and had a reputation of a flirt among the men on the train.
“Why don’t you play something, Pa?” she said plaintively.
“I’ll just do that, Daughter.”
Gerald Townsend unwrapped his fiddle, ran his fingers up and down the neck, and drew the bow across it. “She sounds mighty sweet tonight. Let’s do ‘Arkansas Traveler,’ Hattie.”
“That’s a right sprightly tune.” Hattie pulled the mandolin out, and immediately the camp was filled with the sound of lively music. Soon a group had gathered in the area around the Townsends, and some of the dance hall girls began dancing with the men who approached them.
Leah’s eyes went from man to man, and finally she settled on the young Joe Jones. He’s shy, but he’s right good-looking. Kind of undersized, but I don’t mind that. She threaded her way through the dancers, and when she reached Joelle, she smiled. “How come you never ask me to dance, Joe?”
Joelle was caught off-guard. She saw the boldness of Leah Townsend’s eyes and said quickly, “I don’t know how to dance.”
“Of course you do. Come on, I’ll teach you what you don’t know.”
Owen, who was standing alongside Joelle, grinned. “Go on, boy, don’t be so bashful. She won’t bite you, or if she does, it won’t hurt much, will it, Leah?”
Leah flashed him a brilliant smile and considered him for a moment, but then her attention returned to Joelle. She tugged her by the arm. “Come on, it’s easy.”
Joelle wanted to refuse, but several people had their eyes fixed on her, and she knew she had to do something. She actually was a good dancer, but as Leah pulled her into the center where the fire cast its beams over the dancers, she made sure that she kept the girl at arm’s length. When the dance was over, she said, “Well, that was nice,” and turned to go away. But at that instant Gerald and his wife began playing a slower tune.
“That’s the kind of dance I like,” Leah grinned. “Come on now.” She put her arms around Joelle, and Joelle was startled. She had been able to fool everyone by wearing large clothing, but this young woman had sharp eyes, and she might be able to tell instantly if she held herself against Joelle. Joelle began to talk and held the girl away. “I like this country, don’t you, Leah?”
“It’s all right, I guess. It’ll be better when we get to California. I thought you said you couldn’t dance.”
“Well, I don’t much.”
“You’re different from most men. They always try to hug me.”
“Well, I guess I got better manners than that.”
Leah laughed. “You’re green, aren’t you? You don’t know much about women.”
Joelle smiled. “Not a whole lot,” she said, “but I’ve got time to learn.”
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“Why, so am I. We ought to become real good friends being the same age and all.”
Joelle continued to spar with the young woman who made it difficult, and finally when the dance was over, she said, “I’ve got to go help the night herders, Leah. I’ll see you later.”
Leah watched as Joelle disappeared. She shrugged. “He’s green as grass. He ought to know more than that at his age.”
Harry Jump had been watching the dancing. He saw that Lily Frazier and Rachel were standing back, the girl in the circle of the woman’s arms. Lily often put her arm around Rachel as if protecting her, and this touched him. He had been paying more attention to the woman and her daughter as the days passed. He felt saddened by Lily’s handicap, and he had often wondered what it would be like not being able to hear anything. Even now he was thinking, She’s watching the dancing, but she can’t hear a thing. That must be pretty bad. Just one more thing that she misses out on.
He saw that Rachel was bright-eyed as she watched the dancers, and he got an idea. He approached the two. He saw Lily’s eyes come to him at once, and he spoke not loudly but using his lips more than usual. He knew she was an expert at reading lips, and now he made it a point always to face her so she could understand what he was saying.
“I sure would like to dance with a pretty girl.”
Lily’s eyes opened with surprise. “I can’t dance,” she said.
“Oh, I didn’t mean you, Lily. I mean this girl here. I’ll bet she’s a great dancer.” He smiled down at Rachel who looked up and fastened her eyes on him. “Why, I don’t know how to dance.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Jump said. “I’ll teach you if it’s all right with your mama.”
“Can I, Mama?”
Lily hesitated, then she saw the eagerness on her daughter’s face and nodded. “It’s all right.”
“You come right this way.” Jump took the girl by the hand and led her to a place that wasn’t crowded, and he began to move, smiling and talking constantly to the child.
“I never did dance before.” Rachel giggled. “It’s easy, isn’t it?”
“Well, it is if you got good talent, and I can tell you’re going to be a fine dancer. Why, when you grow up and get to be good-looking and big like your mama, the young fellows are going to be coming all over the place.”
“They will not neither!”
“Oh, yes, I can tell. I’m going to have to give you lessons in dancing and other stuff that young ladies need to know.”
“You have any little girls or boys?”
“I sure don’t, honey. I really don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I haven’t been lucky, I guess. Your mama is lucky to have a fine, pretty girl like you.” Jump continued to speak and was rewarded by the animation on Rachel’s face. He glanced up once and saw Lily watching them closely. He winked at her and nodded, and she smiled and nodded back. She’s worried about this girl, Jump thought. Afraid she won’t make it, that she’s not a good enough mama, but she is.
Lily was startled when Aiden Hall suddenly stood beside her. She turned to face her, and Aiden said, “Harry Jump’s a nice fellow, isn’t he, Lily?”
“Yes, he is. He seems to be very good with children.”
“That’s a little odd, isn’t it? I don’t think he’s ever been married. He doesn’t have any children.”
“I guess he just likes children. Rachel will be talking about dancing with him for the next week.”
“He’s a good man.” Aiden hesitated then added, “I’m sorry for your trouble, Lily. I know you miss a great deal.”
“I’ve gotten used to it.” The words came quickly, but Aiden saw that the woman was troubled.
“A good man wouldn’t mind a handicap like that. You’ve got everything else that a man wants.”
“I’ll never marry.”
Aiden almost said, “You should. Your daughter needs a father.” But she didn’t. She waited until Jump returned with Rachel, and she said warmly, “I didn’t know you were such a good dancer, Rachel.”
“Mr. Jump is teaching me. He’s going to teach me some more kinds of dances too.”
“Well, that’s fine. Harry, I didn’t know you were a dancing instructor.”
Jump shoved his hat back on his head. His light blue eyes were bright now, and he said, “Well, the Lord gave us feet to dance on so I’m going to do it.”
“Some Christians think dancing is a sin.” Aiden smiled at him.
“Well, that’s plum foolish. King David was the best man there was, and he danced before the Lord with all his might.”
“I remember that story,” Lily said suddenly and smiled. “His wife told him he was foolish.”
“Yes, she did.” Jump laughed, his bright teeth flashing against h
is tanned skin. “But he fixed her. He shut her up, and she never had no more children. A woman’s got to be careful about things like that.”
The Townsends started another tune, and Jump said, “How about you, Miss Lily? I believe I could teach you to dance too.”
“No, I couldn’t really.”
“Shucks, it’s easy.”
“It is easy, Mama. Go on,” Rachel urged.
Jump held out his hand, and Lily hesitated. She saw Aiden watching her and Rachel as well. Lily allowed Jump to lead her to the dance and discovered that he was indeed a good dancer. She couldn’t hear the music, but she could feel the rhythm. Jump whirled her around and said, “Why, you’re a fine dancer, Miss Lily.”
“It’s the first time I ever danced.”
“Well, ain’t that fine! You and me will have to do lots of dancing. They have this hoedown every night, and me and you and Rachel will have a heap of fun.”
“I never saw Mama dance before,” Rachel said. She was staring at her mother and Jump and looked up at Aiden. “I didn’t know she could.”
Aiden put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Your mama can do just about anything she wants to, I expect.”
* * *
“I’LL BE GLAD WHEN we get to the next fort,” Joelle said. She eased herself out of the saddle, pressing her foot against the stirrups and arching her back. “How much farther?”
“That’s it right over there.”
Joelle stared in the direction Owen indicated, but she could see nothing. “You can see farther than any man I ever saw.”
“Pretty handy when you’re out in this kind of country,” Owen said mildly.
“What’s it like in this fort?”
“Like all the rest of the forts out here in the West. It’s all filled up with drunks and prostitutes and Indians looking for a handout.”
Suddenly Owen lifted his head and said, “There’s something I didn’t expect to see.”
“What is it, Owen?”
“Indians. Sioux, I think. Could be worse. Could be Comanche.”
The two watched as a group of horsemen approached. There were not more than a dozen, but they were coming at a full gallop.