By the end of the first week, Tom Winslow had almost forgotten Laurie’s request to take the horse to Omaha. The girl herself never mentioned it directly. Rather, she would sigh and run her fingers through his dark hair, saying, “I’ll have lots of time at school. There won’t be much to do there.” Or perhaps, “Some girls have a hobby, like sewing—but I never did anything like that.” Then as an afterthought, “—except ride, of course.”
As the regular dropping of water in a cave can build up a large stalactite, so it was that Laurie slowly crafted the mind of Tom Winslow. Finally, when her departure was only a week away, the two of them were riding back to the fort from one of their outings to talk. They paused long enough for Winslow to dismount and look at his mount’s front hoof, where he found a sharp rock. As he dug it out with his knife, Laurie slipped from her saddle and gave him a calculating look. When he straightened up, she said, “Daddy, I’m worried about Star.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Well, nothing now—but I won’t see him for two years.” Reaching up she stroked the smooth neck, and the horse bent down to get his muzzle stroked.
They made a pretty picture, Winslow thought, the sleek black gelding glowing with health serving as a perfect foil for the shining black hair of the young girl. Clicking his knife shut and slipping it into his pocket, he said gently, “Get fond of a horse, don’t you? I remember my first horse, a jug-headed roan named Mike.”
Laurie looked up at her father as he spoke, noting the fondness in his voice. Finally he said, “When he died, I just about wanted to die myself.”
“I feel that way about Star,” Laurie quickly said. “What if he should die while I’m in Omaha?” Her soft lips grew tense and she held to the horse’s neck possessively. “I don’t think I could stand it, Daddy! Being all alone and Star sick—maybe dying—!”
Winslow put his hand on her shoulder and pressed it gently. “Be pretty bad, wouldn’t it?” She hasn’t had much, he thought. Don’t see why she can’t take the horse with her.
“Well, I don’t guess it’d cost too much to ship Star to Omaha—but it might be hard to find a place close enough to the college to board him.”
“Oh, Daddy!” Laurie’s squeal startled both horses, and she dropped Star’s lines and threw herself at her father.
“Hey now!” Winslow protested, almost knocked off balance by her sudden lunge. He held her with one arm, trying to control his own mount with the other, and when she looked up he saw such a light of joy on her face that he knew whatever the cost, it was worth it.
All the way home Laurie chattered about the arrangements, and when they got to the house, she ran inside, dragging her father by the hand, crying out, “Mother, Daddy says I can take Star to Omaha with me!”
Faith turned from the dishes she was washing to face the exuberant girl, a strange smile touching the woman’s lips. “Oh? How did that get decided?”
Laurie hesitated, then blurted out, “Oh, it was Daddy’s idea.”
“Was it now?”
Tom Winslow gazed down at Laurie fondly. “I’m glad I thought of it.”
Faith laughed aloud, but when Tom blinked and asked what was so funny, she shook her head. Later when she was alone with Laurie, she’d said, “Well, you got your way, didn’t you?”
“My way?”
“Don’t give me that innocent look, Laurie Winslow,” Faith shot back. “You know what I’m talking about.” Then seeing the apprehension in the girl’s eyes, Faith laughed and gave her a hug. “It’s fine with me, but it’s no surprise.”
“Why—”
“You could get that father of yours to cut off his foot if you set your mind to it!”
Laurie tried to look innocent, then giggled, and soon the two burst out laughing. “ ‘I’m glad I thought of it,’ he said,” Faith gasped. “Why, the poor man never knew what hit him!”
“Don’t tell him,” Laurie pleaded.
“I won’t,” Faith agreed. She touched Laurie’s cheek lightly and turned her head to one side as she gazed fondly at her. “I’ve been doing that to your father for years. Do you think I’d give the secret away?”
****
“I feel a little strange shipping my daughter off to school like this,” Tom Winslow said. “Now that the time for you to leave has come, Laurie, I’m sure going to miss you.” Trying to grin, he added, “I’ve always said you were a pretty little filly, but shipping you off in a railroad stock car—!”
Laurie was holding Star by the hackamore and stroking his neck, speaking in a soothing voice to the spirited gelding that disliked unusual settings. He snorted, tossed his head, and lashed out with his hooves, striking the sides of the car.
“Easy, Star—it’s all right,” Laurie whispered, holding his head down. Turning to give her father a quick smile, she said, “He’ll be all right, Daddy. He just has to get used to it.”
“Well, you can’t stay in here petting him for three days.” Winslow glanced at the horse, then shook his head. “Never heard of anyone taking their horse to school with them.”
Just then the brakeman passed by on his way to the caboose. The loose-jointed redhead stopped long enough to look admiringly at Star. “Now that’s one fine-looking hoss!” he remarked.
Winslow took a bill from his pocket and handed it to the young man. “Take care of that animal—and keep an eye on my daughter, too.” He grinned at Laurie, adding, “I’m sending them both off to college.”
The brakeman’s grin broadened as he pocketed the bill and nodded. “My name’s Monroe Whittaker, and I’ll shore watch out for both of ’em, Major. Any hoss thieves or Romeos try anything, I’ll bounce them right off the train!” The whistle uttered a shrill blast, and he said, “Guess you better get your goodbyes done, Major.”
Laurie loosed her hand from the bridle and put her arms around her father, holding him close, and for one moment, she was afraid. But knowing he would be quick to recognize any signs of apprehension, she drew his head down and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodbye, Daddy. I’ll write every week.”
“It’s hard to let you go, daughter!” Winslow’s eyes were troubled, and he shook his head sadly. “First time we’ve ever been separated!” He stepped back, reached into the inner pocket of his coat, and pulled out a small package. “A going-away present for you—just from your old dad.”
Laurie took the package and carefully removed the plain brown paper wrapping. A flash of brilliant red color caught her eye, and she blinked with surprise. What she held was a pair of beautifully wrought silver spurs—and in one of them was set a large brilliant ruby that winked as the sunlight touched it.
“Oh—Daddy!” Laurie whispered. “It’s from your ring that Grandfather gave you!” Tears misted her eyes, and she shook her head. “I can’t let you do it!”
“Too late now,” her father grinned. “I’ve had it long enough. Time for another Winslow to wear it.” He had gone to considerable trouble and expense to have the spurs made and the stone set in. But as he looked down at her and saw the pleasure on her face, he was glad. “Can’t have you going off wearing those old rusty spurs you sport around here,” he said. She threw her arms around him again and held him fiercely, her body trembling with suppressed sobs.
Suddenly another blast of the whistle broke the air. She lifted her face, kissed him, then, clutching the spurs, turned back to Star. The train lurched forward and gathered speed. Then Tom was gone. Laurie pressed her face against Star’s smooth neck. “We’re on our own now, Star,” she whispered.
Whittaker came back through the car ten minutes later and noted that the girl was still holding tightly to the horse. “First time away from home, miss?” he asked.
“Yes, first time.”
The brakeman took in the tense white line around the girl’s mouth and the stiff set of her shoulders.
“Well, the good Lord will take care of you, so don’t you fret.” He wanted to pat her shoulder, but was too wise for that, so he nodded and mo
ved to exit out of the car.
The brakeman’s words were an encouragement to Laurie, and she pulled Star’s head down and kissed his smooth muzzle. “Hear that? Even the brakemen are for us, Star! We’re going to be all right!”
She moved to the slats that made up the side of the cattle car and watched the desert roll by, wondering what Omaha would look like. Even more than that, she wondered if she would be able to compete with the other students. Most of them had gone to fine schools, she suspected, while she’d learned on a dozen army posts under a rather eclectic set of teachers. But as the wheels clicked off the miles, she put her fears behind her.
“Like Monroe Whittaker says, Star—the good Lord is going to take care of us!”
****
“Miss Laurie—we’re comin’ into Omaha.”
Laurie awakened at the sound of Monroe’s voice and opened her eyes to see the lanky redhead bent over her. She had fallen asleep on a pallet she’d made of blankets on a pile of straw in the cattle car, and as she sat up, she blinked at him. “How long, Monroe?”
“Oh, ’bout half an hour. Thought you might want to wash up a little.” He grinned at her, adding, “Don’t want to start college with straw all over your hair, I don’t reckon.”
“Thanks, Monroe.” The brakeman had been exactly what Laurie had needed on the journey, and she’d become fond of him. He’d made it possible for her to stay with Star during the long trip instead of perching on one of the hard seats in the passenger coach. He had also seen to it that she’d gotten good meals at several stops. Twice he’d taken her to restaurants during long stops and entertained her with tall tales about his home state of Tennessee. Even more welcome had been his quick intervention when a man wearing fancy clothes had tried to force himself on her in the passenger car. The man had had glossy black hair and bold eyes, and had crowded against her in the seat. Laurie had tried to ignore him, but he had become more and more insolent, and Monroe had noted the situation in one glance.
“Laurie,” he had said at once, “come along with me.”
The black-haired man had turned to glare at the brakeman. “We’re doing very well without you, Red. Move along or I’ll have to move you.” He was a big man, thick-shouldered and arrogant.
Monroe had been wearing a light jacket, and he pulled it back just enough so that both Laurie and the man could see the butt of a .44 shoved into his belt. Leaning forward, the Tennessean had murmured mildly, “I don’t allow nobody to pester my sister, Jack. Now, you set.”
Something in Monroe’s pale blue eyes had caught the insolent man’s complete attention. He sat back and weakly sputtered, “I was just trying to have a little conversation with the young lady.”
“Come along, sis,” Monroe said easily. When Laurie had slipped past, and Monroe had escorted her back to the cattle car, he said, “I shoulda plugged that sucker!”
Now as Laurie pulled the straw from her hair she laughed. “I guess they’ll know I’m just a country girl even if I get this straw out.”
“Naw, you just bust right into that ol’ college and bat them big eyes of yours at them teachers. You’ll win the whole shebang.”
Laurie smiled at Monroe, then moved to the passenger car, where she washed her face and made herself as presentable as she could in the bathroom. She changed her wrinkled dress for her riding outfit, assuming she’d have to ride Star to the college, then find a place close by to board him.
Returning to the baggage car, she quickly saddled the horse, and as she was slipping the bit between Star’s teeth, Monroe came in. Taking a look at her, he whistled. “Well, look at you, Miss Laurie Winslow!”
Laurie smiled at him. The riding outfit was new—a going-to-school gift from her uncle Mark. It was a fawn-colored divided skirt with silver conchos along the hem, a vest to match, and a pale blue silk blouse. The new boots were made of snake skin, and the hat that hung by a leather lanyard down her back was white with a low crown and a narrow brim. It also had silver conchos on a leather band around the base of the crown. She looked beautiful, and her eyes sparkled as she said, “Thanks, Monroe.”
The whistle sounded twice, and he said, “Well, I pray the Lord will keep you safe, Miss Laurie.”
Appreciative for all this fine young man had done for her, Laurie put her hand out suddenly. When he took it, she said, “I’ll tell my father how well you took care of me, Monroe.”
“Aw, I’d a done it anyhow, but thanks, Miss Laurie.” Taking a sheet of paper from his pocket, he quickly scribbled a few lines, saying, “Take my address. I come through Omaha regular. If any of them scholars give you any trouble, jest drop me a line. I’ll sidle in and give them a leetle education!”
Laurie’s eyes squeezed together as she laughed. “Oh, I hope it won’t come to that, Monroe—but I’ll write to you.” The motion of the train altered, and she said, “We’re slowing down. I’ll get my things.”
The train slowed to a crawl, then shuddered to a stop. Monroe shoved the sliding door open. “Here’s the chute. Goodbye fer now!”
Laurie had tied her suitcase behind her saddle and now guided Star out the door. “Thanks for everything, Monroe!” she called as they moved down the chute. When the big horse reached the ground, she waved at the brakeman, and he waved back, a smile on his homely face.
When she was almost out of hearing distance, he yelled in a stentorian voice, “REMEMBER—DON’T SQUAT WITH YORE SPURS ON!”
The sun sat high in the sky, and the October wind was brisk as Laurie guided Star through the cattle loading pens and toward the station. Several men turned to stare at her with admiration, and one of them said loudly enough for her to hear, “Well, now, girlie, maybe I can get up on that black horse and we can have us a ride!”
Ignoring him, Laurie touched Star, and the gelding snorted and broke into a run. Laurie had been able to take him off the train for exercise only twice during layovers, and she was glad the trip was over. The station was some distance from the loading pens, which gave Star a chance to stretch his legs. As she pulled up in front of the red brick building, she held Star back. A fat man with a billed cap stood on the loading platform watching her, and she asked, “Can you tell me how to get to Wilson College?”
“Sure,” the man nodded. “It’s on the other side of town. You can either ride through town—or you can go around it.” Eyeing her carefully, he spit an amber flow of tobacco juice on the cinders at his feet, then shook his head. “Was it me, I’d go right through.”
“That sounds fine to me.”
“Take that road over there. When you get to the Palace Hotel, turn right. That’s Benton Street. Just stay right on it, miss. College is ’bout half a mile past the hotel.”
“Thanks a lot.”
Laurie turned Star’s head toward the street that led to the main part of town. The outskirts that lay beyond the railroad station were a jumble of poorly built shacks, almost all of them with garden spots turned brown by the autumn chill. An occasional cow nibbled at the dry grass. Small children, attracted by the sight of a girl on a fine black horse, came to the edge of the road. Many of them cried out, “Give me a ride!” but Laurie only smiled and rode by.
The town itself was bigger than any she’d ever seen. She passed a section composed of factories, and then rode into the main business district, taking in the shop windows filled with women’s clothing that she’d seen only in advertisements. The streets themselves were broad and bustling with activity—congested with buggies, carriages, many horses, and large wagons loaded with freight.
Along this route, too, she attracted attention, for though she saw many women in the buggies, there were none on horseback. The stares of the people made her uncomfortable, and she began to wish she’d gone around the town.
Soon she arrived at the Palace Hotel, turned right, and almost at once found herself riding down a broad street shaded by huge elm trees. The houses were finer here, large Victorian style dwellings with gingerbread trim and high windows. Most of them had sep
arate carriage houses and some had gazebos in the spacious front yards. The leaves were falling, carpeting the dry, brown grass with crisp layers, like a red and orange crust. Children played here, too, but were better dressed—though the smaller ones still came to the street to ask for rides.
Ten minutes later, she saw on her right a large two-story red brick structure set back at least a hundred feet from the street. It was not a house, for it was too plain and too large for that, and she saw numbers of young people walking along the pathways that crisscrossed under large oaks. “That must be it,” she murmured, then seeing a small brass sign set back off the road, she rode closer until she could read the letters—WILSON COLLEGE.
Pulling the horse up sharply, she looked at the square building and noted that there were two frame structures, obviously housing for the students. Then she stooped and patted the neck of the horse. “Well, we’re finally here, Star.”
But she was uneasy, for this was another world. She had grown up in places where the land never seemed to meet the sky, but stretched out for enormous distances. This world was small, cut into sections and bordered by trees so that she could only see small parts of it. She felt it closing in on her and was filled with a sensation of being pushed into a tiny closet.
The people of this world would be different; she knew that instinctively. The denizens of her world had been hard-muscled, sunburned troopers, blowzy washwomen, seedy civilian clerks, and obsidian-eyed Apache. But somehow she sensed as she took in the well-dressed young people walking and laughing that even in this seemingly soft and gentle world there would be those who were not so tender.
Taking a deep breath, Laurie touched Star with her heels, whispering, “They’ll just have to move over and make room for us, won’t they, Star?”
A circular drive made of some sort of shells arched in front of the main building, and she stepped out of the saddle and tied Star to the hitching rail along with three other saddle horses. Moving resolutely, she mounted the three steps and reached out to open the polished oak door. It swung toward her even as her hand pulled the brass handle, and a small man with a pair of glasses perched on his nose almost fell flat on his face.
The Jeweled Spur Page 5
