USA > California > Sonoma County > Casa Grande : a California pastoral > Part 13
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Although there were no telegraph lines, nor had a post-route been established, the fame of the sur- geon ran up and down the valley, from the little vil- lage of Santa Rosa to the steamer landing at the Embarcadero. More than one passer-by took advan- tage of the holiday and its established custom to stop at the old place, the celebrated guest proving as strong an attraction as the bowl of egg-nogg on the dining-room table.
Since Miller had bought the ranch his house had gained the reputation of a mansion of many wel-
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comes ; somewhat rough and primitive, perhaps ; yet all who travelled that way considered themselves invited. A woman now had come, and everywhere were softness and femininity; the finer hospitality none the less hearty, however.
The doctor and his host had been riding all morn- ing. They had wandered indifferently under a clear blue sky in the crisp sunlight, two care-free com- panions. They had hung across corral fences and watched the logy cattle. They had stood on the banks of Aguas Frias, the first run of salmon-trout flashing by fearlessly. They turned in their saddles, at the top of the hills, to gaze across the little valley, on the olive-green mantle of the folding earth drop- ping lightly down.
When the horsemen got back to the dwelling the sheriff was one of the visitors. He had on company clothing, and likewise company manners, evidence that his presence was unofficial. It was the first time Mrs. Payne had met him, and he had not long been in the house before she concluded that his was not necessarily a New Year's call.
Bailey was a man of infrequent emotions, and
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when they were roused he was too unconscious to hide them. He had not seen Belle for days, and as soon as she came into the room an unusual charm in her appearance deeply moved him, and he made no effort to veil his admiration-to her annoyance and Mrs. Payne's satisfaction.
The married woman had at last found a happy solution of the problem long on her mind. Belle and Bailey were of the same class. He certainly was prosperous, and had a commanding personality. These two would be better mated than Belle and Miller, a conclusion that gained for the newcomer Mrs. Payne's sympathy, and her influence in secur- ing an interview with Belle, which the young lady very deftly cut short.
All this had happened before Miller returned. When Mrs. Payne saw the two men together, and observed their manner toward the girl, a sense of having blundered dismayed the older woman, for Bailey's roughness brought Belle's innate sweetness into glaring contrast, gave it a prominence that had not been evident in association with Miller. Mrs. Payne therefore decided to interfere no further in
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the sheriff's behalf until she more carefully had studied his character.
Dinner was served late, and the company lingered in the big, cheery room, after the meal was over, until the sun slanted through the western windows. A clatter of hoofs in the courtyard, the barking of dogs, took all to the open door, and they saw a half- dozen horsemen lifting a companion from his saddle.
The man had ridden, with unconscious pluck, five miles from the squatter settlement in Dry Creek Valley. His eyes were staring, his face white, and on the towel roughly bound about his head was a ragged, crimson stain. They took him before the glowing hearth and set him in a comfortable chair, faint and shivering from cold and pain. The doctor gave a stimulant, drew off the coarse boots, covered him with a blanket, and soon had him easier.
Then the physician turned to the men who had fetched the patient and asked the cause of the wound. Belle's presence gave them confidence, and they gathered about her with a gladness apparent to any reader of signs. The man had been wounded in a drunken quarrel while attempting to protect a neigh-
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bour from her husband's fist. They had been celebrat- ing the new year, and the accident had ended the spree and sobered the revellers-all but Bill Scott, the one who had done the shooting.
"Bill Scott's an idle, worthless bully," said Belle, "and he can thank his wife for having even a home. She would be well rid of him."
"Served me right," declared the wounded man, speaking weakly, but without resentment. "I had no call to put in my lip."
"Come, friend," protested the doctor; "you did a gallant deed, one worthy of a man."
"I'm not regretting that, doc," cheerfully replied the patient. "If the like of me keep out of family jars, the like of Mrs. Scott wouldn't live with such men."
"They must marry," suggested Mrs. Payne. She spoke with a rising inflection, however, as if there might be an alternative.
"Yes," drily admitted the wounded man; "mules, or a wench with a fist as heavy as a mule's foot. Some one as '11 throw 'em out when drunk." In this man's philosophy there must be selection be-
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tween members of even the same class, and Mrs. Payne was dimly conscious that domestic compli- cations are not wholly dependent on questions of breeding.
"Bill Scott's wife might be somebody if she wasn't tied to him," declared Belle. "Even as it is, she's the whole outfit !"
"I don't see why she stays with that skunk." The wounded man spoke irritably, and unconsciously put his hand to his head.
Belle's face expressed disgust as she replied : "We all know why. She's good and faithful, and he'll be as meek as Moses for the next month. She'll for- give him, as she always does. Are you in pain?"
"Come, now, clear out!" the doctor good- naturedly ordered. "We're getting our man worked up over this, and I must see to his hurt."
The wound was serious, but not dangerous. The bullet had grazed the skull, without fracturing it, and some stitches had to be taken in the scalp. While the doctor was dressing the injury, he was sur- rounded with sympathetic helpers, Miller, Manuel, Belle, Mrs. Clark, each serving with kindly office or
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kindlier sentiment. Bailey sat apart, and for once watched the others, without comment.
Under their soothing influence the patient soon cheered up and humorously described the morning's dissipation. Life on the frontier is too natural, too childlike, to be long depressed. Sympathy is a full, deep current, on which float lightly unspoiled emo- tions.
The neighbours waited contentedly for the opera- tion to be over, and smoked familiar cigarettes with the vaqueros who lounged about the courtyard. The friendly attitude of the two factions, mingling thus for the first time in months, gave no hint of past strained relations. The fire of resentment, if it smouldered, was overlaid by the ashes of more im- minent necessity, and as long as their comrade was in no present danger, their errand of distress became part of the day's celebration.
The wounded squatter, with scalp well patched and head freshly bandaged, rose unsteadily to de- part. Miller saw at a glance that the man was unfit to ride to his own home, and sent his companions away without him.
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"Stay around a day or two; wait till your pins stiffen a bit," was the ranchero's invitation. He was at last learning these men, was finding out how far he could tax their gratitude.
The newcomer weakly protested. His intuitions told him that he was an intruder, that to stay would be to accept a kindness made necessary by his own stupidity. Yet he was sorely wounded, and the com- fort, the hospitality, roused a longing for one night's rest in this stronghold of helpfulness, and he yielded.
They fetched a cot, and laid him, clean and peace- ful, in the dark. The last he remembered was voices of women sounding, far away, a low, sweet lullaby, maternal, soothing. He was again a child, simple, unspoiled, without care or sorrow.
"I suppose you'll arrest the man who did the shooting, Mr. Bailey?" asked Mrs. Payne, after the family had gathered again. She concluded that an example must be set.
The sheriff answered easily that he felt no call to arrest any one.
"No call! And a man wounded almost to death !" Bailey explained that the law considered the com-
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munity as well as the individual, and in this case the community would profit, because Scott would have to get out.
"Scott get out !" This time it was Belle whose in- dignation was roused. "You couldn't drag him out with a saddle-horse."
"We'll see," confidently replied Bailey. "When he winged that man for protecting his wife he played his last card; she'll throw him out. I know these people."
The note of assurance in the sheriff's speech irri- tated Belle, who gave vent to her mood by a quick retort : "Oh, yes, Sam Bailey ; you know so much !"
He backed up to the fireplace and spread his hands to the warmth. "I can prove that I'm right," he banteringly affirmed. "Our wounded friend was quite mild while you were patching him up; but when he gets well, if Scott even winks at him there 'll be a funeral in Dry Creek. No man as big a cow- ard as Scott can long stand to be terrorised that way, and he'll get out. Am I right?"
"You're always right," said Belle, but her manner did not carry the approval of her words.
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Bailey laughed, and picked up his hat. His visit was disappointing, for he had been all day under restraint. Something had changed in the old house, in Belle, and he laid it to Mrs. Payne's door. He was disposed to resent as an intrusion the coming of this latest guest, and the more he studied her the more certain he felt that she was planning to win Belle to Miller. No doubt, Miller was conscious of the scheme, and a new emotion stirred Bailey. If they proposed to cut him out of his rightful place with the girl, he, too, could play at that game, and for the first time he began to plot against his host. "Good-bye," he blandly said to Belle, as he turned toward the door ; "I'd better go before you row with me. Good-bye, all."
It was long after dark when the family quieted down from the excitements of the day. The va- queros were smoking and chatting in the dining- room, where Manuel was finishing with his dishes; the others were in Belle's room. A dog roused from between the men's feet and gave a short, muffled bark. Another and another be- came alert, then all charged for the court-
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yard; the men sprang after, calling them in threat- ening tones.
Miller and the doctor came into the dining-room as the vaqueros re-entered, escorting a woman of middle age, shrunken and bony from overwork. Her garments were poor, almost mean, and her face thin and sad ; yet her eyes were intelligent and resolute. "I am Mrs. Scott," she simply said.
Belle heard the voice and ran out, took the wasted figure in her arms and kissed her. The older woman clung a moment to the girl, as if for protection, then gently pushed her back. The frontier may go in- sane if the fiercer emotions be roused ; but if the ten- der, it is at once ashamed.
When they had seated this visitor before the fire in Belle's room, the friendliness of the genial group slowly relaxed the tension of her months of repres- sion, and she found relief in talking. They listened interestedly till she had freed her mind of resentment and bitterness.
She had left her husband in bed to sleep himself sober ; her two children she had housed for the night with neighbours; then she had felt free to follow
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her instinct-that was for refuge. At Casa Grande were Belle, always resolute and helpful, and Mil- ler, the embodiment of kindness, notwithstanding past feuds. Comfort, peace, sympathy, all attracted her to the big house. This was the first time she had stepped inside these walls, and the reality was even more than she had pictured.
Her life had been steep and rough; here was a resting-place where she might renew courage and gather strength and resolution, if only for a night. Just now, she could think of but one purpose-to get rid of her husband. Like a mastering passion, it quivered from every cell in her being. Yet how should she? She asked them the question humbly as a child, almost helplessly.
The others looked to Miller for answer, and, for once, the master of Casa Grande was not ready. To gain time, he would have the woman stay with them for the night; there was a couch where she could sleep secure among friends. He would have her wait a little; she must be worn with the mental struggle she had been through. A change of thought, a change of circumstance, and the world would be
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fairer again. Above all, she must decide her own actions; it would be wiser to do nothing until she was certain of her convictions.
Mrs. Payne wasnot satisfied. "You must remem- ber, John, that Mrs. Scott is a woman. She needs advice."
Miller good-naturedly shook his head. "If she needs advice or approval, she would better remain as she has been."
"You are cruel !"
"Each is his own world," he gently replied. "No one can say what another should do-unless one knows every quivering emotion of the other."
"But, John, those who have been in the world, who have seen life, know what's right, what's wrong, better than those who haven't."
He smiled kindly at his impulsive guest and her throbbing sympathy. "Yes; for themselves. After all, the limit of worldly knowledge is to know what is right, each for himself."
"Would you have this woman wear out her life for that brute?"
"Oh, no, knight-errantess! I'd have her wait
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until she will submit no longer; then her own reso- lution will point the way."
"That means you won't help her?" said Mrs. Payne, disappointment evident in face and voice.
"If she needs money, land, a horse, a cow, I might be persuaded. But advice-I'm not sure, myself, so I'll keep that without price."
"Only a word, John."
"If she needs my word, she lacks conviction." He glanced compassionately at the careworn woman. "We do many things from impulse-usually to re- gret them. Conviction alone gives courage."
"You're generally right, John." Mrs. Payne looked humbly at him, and rose from her chair. "Are you disappointed, Mrs. Scott?"
An answer was not immediately given. The woman's face was toward the fire, her sunken'eyes turned to the glowing coals as if studying destiny: When she looked up. her mouth was resolute. "No; not exactly. I'm sure I'll never live with him again."
Miller rose, also. "Your convictions will give you courage to enforce them," he hopefully affirmed.
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"A good night's rest will be more to you than ad- vice." . gr :
Mrs. Payne lingered to help with the couch and do what she could for the comfort of the other women. When she came softly into the unlighted dining-room, Miller was alone by the fireside, the dogs stretched comfortably about him. The logs had burned to a bed of coals, and the ruddy glow showed his. well-knit figure. like burnished copper. His attitude suggested weariness, not so much physi- cal as spiritual. The man of large sympathy, ever ready to give unstintingly of it, found his soul nearly drained. All were taking from him, none repaying, and the thought sometimes made him desolate. When he looked up, there was a wistfulness in the strong face that made her yearn over the solitary man, for she felt his loneliness.
He set:a chair for her near the fire.
"No, John; it's late. But I have news for you. It appears that Belle has another brother, Tom."
"Yes. He disappeared just after the big fire."
"He went to Santa Barbara," she continued, "on a cattle range, where he still is. Belle must have
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suspected him of taking part in the firing of your barn, for he was there that night-and she was shot for it, poor girl! He didn't, however. Mrs. Scott gave no names, but it's not difficult to guess, now, who did the mischief, and Belle and her mother were greatly relieved to hear of Tom's innocence."
Miller sat thinking of the night the girl was wounded, and many things became clear, each new disclosure adding to the patient's credit. "A case of self-sacrifice on the altar of friendship, eh?" he remarked. "The boy wouldn't betray the guilty man, for the sake of the man's family. Belle or Wash might easily have done such a thing, but Tom-I didn't suspect it. Runs in the family. Good stuff, that, Mabel."
But Mrs. Payne had also fallen to dreaming. Presently she laid a hand on his shoulder. "To think," she said, "that girl might some day become like that woman !"
He understood, although the process of reasoning by which she arrived at her conclusion had not been explained. He said, however, that he did not wholly agree with his guest; the girl had a different temper.
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"Yes," admitted Mrs. Payne; "she s courageous and sympathetic, and when I saw her with Mr. Bailey to-day I was impressed by her superiority to her own class. And, John"-there was an ex- pression of intense satisfaction on the speaker's face -"you should have seen her turn him down. I've been chuckling to myself ever since. She'll learn fast.".
He affably reminded her of his having said that Belle was putting her to the test. He thought the girl had a good model.
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed the model, "I don't know whether I'm good or bad. I thought I knew just what to do when I arrived. Now, I'm quite at a loss."
"Why, Mabel," he said, rising, "you astonish me !"
"I don't care, John Miller ; you've been laughing at me ever since I came here."
"Laughing at you !- I?"
"Yes, you have. You've been laughing in your sleeve." The mention of laughter recalled Bailey again, and she took a new turn. "I thought I had
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found just the man for Belle when I met Mr. Bailey, but I believe I don't like him."
"Go to bed, little schemer. Leave something for another day." He lighted a candle for her.
"Good-night, John. Do you think you could be satisfied with her love?" The look she gave him was sweet and wistful.
For answer, he pressed to his lips the soft, cool hand he held in his, and kindly said, "Good-night."
CHAPTER XXIII
IF A MAN WOULD GIVE ALL FOR LOVE
T HE day after New Year's, Dr. Payne found on the breakfast-table a summons that brought to an end his visit at Casa Grande. He read aloud that much of the letter, and all fell to discussing plans for the parting. It was decided that Miller should drive the surgeon and his wife, in the after- noon, to Sonoma, where they might remain over- night, and not have to rise before daylight next morning, to be on hand for the early departure of the steamer to San Francisco.
Belle had listened to the doctor's announcement with no outward sign of distress; but her heart was labouring, and her breath came as if a band were tightening about her chest. The hour she had dreaded was here, and she must at last say good-bye. What the parting meant suddenly flashed upon her,
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and she knew how she had grown to depend on the master of Aguas Frias.
When she felt her voice steady, she quietly said that they, too, would leave at the same time. The announcement fetched a lull in the conversation, the silence more eloquent of regret than any words could be.
"Do you think it safe, Ned?" asked Miller.
The doctor did not look at Belle, but he caught her troubled expression, and guessed the motive that prompted her to leave so soon. "She has improved fast," he answered, "and if she will remember to be careful-"
Miller urged no further objections. He could not very well obtrude his own regrets, and he was too absorbed by them to divine the girl's motive; so he acquiesced with evident disap- pointment.
"How soon, John," asked the doctor, a twinkle in his eye, "do you consider it will be safe?"
"About a year," was the indolent answer.
"Why not a hundred ?"
"Very well, then-a hundred."
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"My dear boy," said the doctor, solemnly rising, "I suggest that you consult the patient."
But when the doctor got up, the patient left and went into the living-room, her mother and Miller following her.
The surgeon proposed to his wife, as soon as they were alone, that she stay a week or two longer, and perhaps Belle would remain with her.
"Are you tired of me, Ned?" she asked.
His manner expressed surprise, and at the same time embarrassment. He must answer something, however, for she waited expectantly. "I supposed, all along, it was the other way, Mabel."
She went quickly to him and caught his arm with both her hands. "Oh, Ned, there's nothing in this world worth while but you !"
He drew her to him and smoothed the hair from her brow. Streakings of silver were coming in the gold, and her eyes shone with unaccustomed plead- ing, but her lips curved invitingly. "Did you have to come to Casa Grande to discover that?"
"I've discovered many things at Casa Grande, dear. Kiss me."
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Husband and wife, his arm about her, passed out the front door and along the road to the feeding- sheds. Belle stood at a window and watched them. She never before had seen him caress his wife, and the spirit of romance, ever alert in the girl, weaved pictures of the impulses that had caused this sudden change. Love, then, is a fountain, to run dry if not replenished by love, and yet never so dry as not to flow again if abundantly fed.
The girl's thoughts wandered from the doctor and his wife to Miller. Why had the professional man suggested that his host question the patient as to the time of her leaving? Had all of them observed her growing affection for the ranchero? She pressed both hands to her heart to still its throbbing, for her dreams were taking the forms of realities, and she stood in the first sunburst of the discovery. It must not be. She had not yet forgiven the wrongs he had done, and even if she could forgive, she could not satisfy him; she was not worthy of him.
Her purpose had been formed in the spirit of self- sacrifice that proved the deep abnegation of her love. She, like all ardent souls, was forgetting her own
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longing in the divine passion he had wakened, and which at last she was conscious of.
She resolved, therefore, to leave Casa Grande be- fore he had found out her love for him. She would steal away while he was gone, run off and hide in some quiet place, and die-anything to escape telling him good-bye, letting him see the emotion that was unnerving her. She went back to her deserted cham- ber, flung herself beside the bed, and asked for strength to carry out the plan now submerging her in a flood of tears that would not break.
Mrs. Payne, the joy of loving deeply stirring her again, found the girl packing with feverish eager- ness. She walked to the bureau and covertly ob- served Belle, but did not speak for some time. She at last discovered the reason for this disorderly gathering up of the family belongings, and softly asked :
"Packing, Belle?"
The girl only nodded in answer. "I thought you'd help me-our time is short." Belle neither paused nor looked up. "Must you leave when we go?"
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"Yes." Belle kept her face away from the ques- tioner.
"You needn't. You'll have the house to your- selves to-night, and can take your own time. Then in the morning you will start refreshed."
Belle silently persevered.
Mrs. Payne went to the kneeling figure and laid a hand on her. The touch was a caress, and Belle looked up, at last-rose and clasped the fingers lying on her shoulder.
"It's time, Mrs. Payne. We've stayed too long, and Mr. Miller has been so kind."
"But a day or two more will make no difference." "We must go, Mrs. Payne-now."
"Have you told John?"
"I can't tell him! We'll be gone when he gets back. Please don't stop me." Belle had spoken fast, and was shaking.
Mrs. Payne drew the quivering figure to her and held the girl close-two women, each beloved. Belle's breath came distressfully, and she leaned to the older woman, who gently asked if she realised how deeply her stealing away would pain Mr. Miller.
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Belle's only answer was to cling the tighter.
"John has been proud of your courage, dear."
"I can't tell him good-bye, Mrs. Payne-I can't! He sees so much, he'll know-he'll be sure- You tell, when you leave him to-morrow morning."
Mrs. Payne softly laughed. "You foolish child! He would ride straight to your house, if I did."
"But I'm not worthy."
The older woman's face rested caressingly on the girl's flushed cheek, and her head shook disapprov- ingly, for the memory of her husband's arm about her waist still lingered.
"But you think so. You tried to show me-"
"Never mind, now, dear. I shouldn't have inter- fered. It's best-"
"But you were right! I know it."
Mrs. Payne realised that Belle was under the sway of her emotions, and argument would be useless. She held the girl close a little longer, and when she spoke again it was to ask help in packing.
As the day wore along, the bustle and excitement of departure caused the convalescent to forget her own distress; and after the city guests drove away,
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the Clarks decided that it was too late to leave that night.
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