USA > California > Sonoma County > Casa Grande : a California pastoral > Part 9
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The night he had ridden her down and folded her in his arm her heart had caught the throb of his. He had humbled himself then, and pointed her the way to become his equal, her heart forever to throb with his. She was now too listless to care what the
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end might be, but her spirit, fluttering just on the limit of consciousness, felt securely anchored in his keeping.
The night after Bailey had watched the second time, Belle lay thinking of Miller's faithfulness. He had been working long to cool the fever that kept sleep away, and when she had grown quiet she saw him sitting before the fireplace, his head thrown back against the chair, his eyes closed. There were lines on his face not there a month ago, and in the ruddy glow his cheeks showed hollow and shadowy. The expression stirred her motherhood with a sud- den consciousness that the man, prodigal in the com- forting of others, at last needed comforting. Her throat filled and tears dropped on her pillow, be- cause she must smother the impulse to open her arms and call him to come.
Although longing to speak, her intuitions kept her silent. Something in his manner had changed- what, she could not tell, as he had not mentioned the forest fire. He was courteous, attentive, almost des- perately helpful, but with an air of performing a task-as if forcing an appearance of interest to cover
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a feeling of dread. She fell asleep, wondering if he had forgotten the night he rode her down, or whether he regretted it.
He went to her at last. She lay facing the fire, her hands clasped, her head resting on her extended arms. He could not see that she had been weeping- the light was too dim to show the stain on the pil- low -- but her attitude was a helpless appeal that troubled him. The doctor's manner showed increas- ing anxiety; Bailey had protested that something more should be done, and his own judgment told him that she was failing. What the trouble was he did not know, but he would discuss her condition to-morrow when the doctor called and decide if a consultation were necessary.
The doctor did not appear next day, and after it grew late Miller sent for him to come without fail in the morning.
That evening Belle's spirit tugged at its bonds. When the house had grown silent her fever raged, and the man worked over her alone and with grow- ing anxiety. He tried cooling waters from the icy springs of Aguas Frias. He bound the wound with
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them, packed her head in wet towels, flung open the room to the breath of night; yet without quieting her.
The brightness of her eyes increased, and she talked irrationally. Her mind lingered on the forest fire and her own wounding, and more than once he thought she would explain why she had been there. Subconsciousness, however, was on duty and held back the disclosure.
She asked to sit at the open door. He helped her into the big rocking-chair and dragged it where the night drifted in. She leaned back restfully and lis- tened to the hum of insects, the hoot of an owl, the howl of coyotes. The brightness went out of her eyes, her skin dried and her breathing slowed.
They were a long time silent. Her delirium had reminded him of the squatters, and it seemed to him that here must be a halting-place in their warfare. A mistake had been made, and the sweetest life of all had been offered in sacrifice for it. Some one had attempted a cowardly wrong, and the blow fell on her, but the anguish was his. He would not ad- mit that she had set the fire, and yet whoever had
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planned the evil must be appalled at his own cruelty, and as long as she lay helpless in Casa Grande she was a hostage for good conduct.
After that -- But why look so far? The lash was on his back; he needed the discipline, for he had blundered, and he was profiting. When Belle should get well his duty would end and he be done with them all. No human life should again be on his hands, even if he must lose every building and every hoof on the range. Hereafter, mistrust of the Clarks would hold him aloof. He had felt certain of Belle, even of Wash ; yet his own barn had been set on fire, and she alone had been found there; his confidence had been misplaced. If she did not recover-
She moved and said that she was tired, and he helped her to bed. A new complication developed : from burning fever she went to shivering chill. He closed doors and windows, stirred the fire, and ap- plied hot water, but she grew worse. He came to the end of his resources, and then gave a quieting powder left by the doctor for emergencies only.
The dose checked the chill, but did not stop it. In half an hour he gave another, this time with decided
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effect. Soon he was anxiously bent over the uncon- scious girl, who was very weak. Her breathing quickened and grew loud; her pulse fluttered; her lids partly opened; her jaw relaxed. There was no light but the glow from the hearth, yet it showed her stark under the covers, colorless as the sheets.
What if she should die here, alone with him! His soul called on its Maker to spare this scourge, while the anguish of the crucified rent him. Her life was in the hollow of his own hand; how should he an- swer for it? Again he bent over the motionless form, acutely sensitive to her wavering breath. He took her hand in both of his and went with her down to the bank of the deep and silent river of death, and gazed across to where vision fails.
And then he led her back. The house waked once more and Mrs. Clark relieved him. Belle's skin was moist, her breathing easy; her lips had closed and a faint color was in her cheeks.
The man whose soul had cried in anguish came out under the fading stars and leaned restfully against a column of the porch, his breath drawn deeply. Birds twittered in the vines, the fountain
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plashed softly, and in the east was the first glow of day. With unconscious thankfulness he lifted his eyes toward the light; the daughter of morning, clad in rose-colour, was trailing her garments across the sky.
CHAPTER XV
OR EVER I WAS AWARE
S OON after breakfast Miller sent another messen- ger for the doctor. The master of Casa Grande was apprehensive lest the wound was not properly healing, fever and delirium indicating blood-poison- ing, and he expressed his fear in a note given the messenger.
Belle had been quiet since her mother went in to her, and, as a cattle buyer had arrived to procure beef for the holiday trade, the ranchero went down to the feeding-sheds and helped the vaqueros cut out the animals selected by the purchaser. As these were the first product of his range, he was pleased and flattered by the praise bestowed on their superior condition. Better even than the praise was the price paid him, almost fabulous compared with the value of ordinary range cattle.
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He was roused from absorption in the trade by the appearance of Manuel on Peggy. It was an un- heard of liberty for any of the men to use the mare, and Miller knew that Belle was in distress again.
As the two men returned hastily to the house, Manuel said, in explanation of his coming: "La señorita bery es-strong feber just now."
"How long has she been suffering?" Miller asked. Manuel explained that she had been awake for more than an hour; that he and her mother had tried everything they knew for relief, but without success, and then they had decided to send for him.
When Miller went into the sick-room Belle was restlessly staring about, too delirious to recognise him. Her mother sat rocking beside her, with hands helplessly folded, head resting on the back of her chair, and eyes shut. She looked up on hearing the man's soft footfall, and rose.
"What shall we do?" she anxiously inquired. "I'm so glad you've come! We've tried everything we can think of, and she gets worse."
"You are tired," Miller answered. "I've just sold some beef steers, and the buyer will be in to dinner.
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Help Manuel prepare something extra, will you? I'll see what can be done with Belle."
He put pillows under the girl's shoulders to re- lieve the blood-pressure in her head. She stared with unseeing vision through open door and win- dows, mumbling incoherently, brushing her hair with both hands back from her flushed cheeks and smack- ing her lips. He offered her water; she would not drink. He was afraid to move her nearer the door again, and at last he went to the drawer and took out a powder. But she refused to swallow it, and while he was considering how to administer it he concluded to wait for the coming of the doctor, so that the professional man might have full benefit of the worst symptoms.
He kept a wet towel about her head and did what he could in other ways to lower her temperature, certain that he was retarding the progress of the fever. As the sun leaned toward the west, however, the air grew hotter, and the delirium increased.
During the dinner hour Miller could not leave his patient, and he struggled alone with her increasing restlessness. She attempted to get out of bed; she
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insisted on going outdoors; she must have one of the rifles on the wall; but gently and soothingly he held her back, his personality exercising a subtle restraint, and at last had her lying quiet, her lids closed. The log was blazing in the fireplace, and he went across to smother it in ashes. As he bent over his task she called to him:
"You shan't burn the barn!"
He straightened up and steadied himself against the mantel. She was lying on her side, and gazed past him, out the door.
"Stamp it out !" she commanded, "or else I will." She lay in the same position and stared the same way.
"You cowards !" she went on. "No; I won't tell. Run! They're coming. Quick!" She sat up and pointed her finger at him.
He bent down again, replaced the shovel he had been holding, and leaned heavily against the wooden shelf, with a feeling as if a band were tightening about his heart. She was explaining the mystery of the attempt to burn his barn.
"I'll put it out," she said, more quietly. After a
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short pause, her arms went into the air and waved frantically, while she called in alarm: "Quick ! They're coming!" and threw herself forward on the covers.
He straightened her back on the pillows, his voice low and calming, his hands clasping her wrists.
She stared unknowingly in his face, and called, with a piercing cry: "Run! The dog!" Her tones denoted terror, and she sat upright, in spite of his hold on her. "They're yelling! No! No! Miller!"
She threw herself back and sobbed hysterically, both hands covering her face.
In helpless misery he bent over her. The only thing he thought to do was to stroke back the hair from her cheeks, too grieved to remember anything but the scene when the girl had been shot as she tried to put out a fire started by others. All his posse that night had held in their souls a desire to kill, and the desire had been nearly accomplished. In the light of newly acquired knowledge, he wished that every revolver on the ranch had been burned in the fire that swept the valley.
The doctor had ridden quietly into the courtyard
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and entered the dwelling without Miller's knowl- edge. The girl's screaming reached the caller's ears, as well as her mother's. They ran into her room' and caught the picture at the bedside. The doctor stood a moment, as if to seize the purport of it, and then swiftly advanced, his face sombre.
It did not take long for the surgeon to decide that Miller's fears were well founded, as he quietly said : "We must open the wound, John-blood-poison- ing."
The girl regarded him vaguely, and turned her eyes on Miller. Again she went over the scene at the fire, and when she wildly threw her arms about, the men, standing on opposite sides of the bed, each grasped a wrist in an effort to quiet her.
"She's going to die!" wailed Mrs. Clark, her apron in her hands.
"No, madam," answered the doctor, somewhat curtly. "We'll probe the wound, and she'll soon come out of this. Will you ask Manuel to have hot water ready?"
When she left the room, the surgeon relaxed his hold of Belle, straightened up, and said: "I hope
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she'll stay away till we're done. She's a good woman, but helpless-unreliable in a pinch.". He glanced at John, still holding the girl's wrists, and quietly asked : "Did you shoot the real incendiary ?"
Miller shook his head, dejectedly walked to the western window, and gazed long into the valley of the Aguas Frias.
Belle moved uneasily, as if to get out of bed. The doctor restrained her with soothing words, and called to the ranchero: "We must calm her, John, so that I can get at the wound." And when John came to the bed, the doctor prepared a quieting dose and gave it.
As soon as the patient was unconscious they called in Manuel, with hot water, and opened and cleansed the wound. It had healed too fast outside, and ab- sorption was causing the mischief.
When the bandaging had been finished the pa- tient was made comfortable, the room darkened and silence restored. "She'll soon be better," hopefully remarked the doctor, as he put away his instru- ments. "It will be hours before she recovers from the effects of the opiate. In the meantime, John"-
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he spoke kindly, the thought of the mistake made in shooting the girl vivid in his mind-"get what rest you can. You'd better be here when she wakes."
The doctor sat down beside the bed, and as he re- garded his patient a new interest in her awoke. He all along had felt that there was more to this woman than the ordinary country girl. He had known of Bailey's attraction, but Miller's was another mat- ter, not so easy to explain. It was a difficult posi- tion for a young man like the master of Casa Grande. So they had shot her for the person who had put fire to the barn, while she had been trying to extinguish it. A A very interesting complication. His mind wandered off to dreamland, to the days of his own youth and its glowing ideals. A movement of the host roused him, and he quietly rose.
They left the chamber together and went to the courtyard. When the doctor was riding away Miller asked him to send word of Belle's condition to Bailey. The sheriff might like to come out, next day being Sunday.
Mrs. Clark took charge of the patient the re-
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mainder of the afternoon and until bedtime, which permitted Miller to get much-needed sleep.
It was about nine o'clock when the master of Casa Grande went to his place beside the still unconscious girl. She had been moving somewhat restlessly be- fore he came in, and the household had gone softly to bed. They had not long been quiet when Bailey rode up. Miller met him in the courtyard, led the way into the dining-room, and was about to sit down by the table.
"No," objected the newcomer; "I want to see her."
"She has been uneasy for the past hour," replied Miller, "as if she might come from under the influ- ence of the opiate given at noon."
"We'll be very quiet," urged the sheriff.
When the two men stood beside the girl, lying wan and rigid, with closed lids, their faces were as grave as if watching over the dead. There was no sound in the room, not even the flicker of a blaze in the fireplace. The log had burned to a glowing coal, which shed a dim, soft radiance about the hearth and threw fantastic shadows in the corners. Had it
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not been for the slight rise and fall of the hands clasped over the breast they might have thought Belle lying in her shroud.
The sheriff went noiselessly out, and the girl turned, but did not wake. The two men seated themselves by the dying fire in the dining-room and smoked a cigarette, while they talked in low tones.
"We must have a consultation, Miller," insisted Bailey.“
"Wait till we see the effect of probing the wound."
"The wound should have healed without prob- ing," indignantly replied the sheriff. "It's a case of neglect."
"The doctor has been attentive."
"That may be. But look at the girl-her thin hands and cheeks. She's losing strength every day." "Go to bed, Sam," kindly commanded Miller. "Wait till you see her in the morning; then we'll decide." He lighted a candle and led the way to the guest's room. "I'll call you early to relieve me- by four or five."
Miller's return to the chamber roused Belle, who lay quietly observing him move about the dim room
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to make ready for his long vigil. He arranged the fire, put out a pitcher of water in the night air, moved a chair near the bed, and stood for a moment studying her face.
"What time is it, Mr. Miller?" she asked, her voice thin and weak.
He smiled at her and laid his hand on her brow. It was damp and cooler, and he knew that she was rational again.
"It's after ten."
"I thought I heard you come in ; it waked me up."
"Yes. I've been showing Sam Bailey to bed. He came an hour ago."
"Poor Sam!" she sighed. "I wish I had seen him."
"He was in here, but you were sleeping. He'll relieve me in the morning. Probably you'll see him when you wake again."
She brushed back the hair from her cheeks, pink from the effort to talk, and wearily moaned: "My head throbs like a hammer. I've had dreadful dreams-the morning after the fire over again."
"Never mind, now. Let's not talk of it."
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"I can't get it out of my mind-the shooting of me."
"You'll be better now," he said, trying to turn her thoughts. "We put you under an opiate to probe your wound. That's what makes your head ache. It was healing too rapidly."
"I hope so," she groaned. "It's been a long time." She pressed her palms to her forehead. "Is maw sleeping ? Poor maw! It's hard on her. And you, to0-''
"Don't, Belle," he said, gently interrupting. “If you knew how this hurt of yours oppresses me, and what a relief it is to do for you, you'd not pity me."
But she only shook her head and sighed. "I'm wearing you out. If the bullet had gone a little higher or a little lower !" she answered, and listlessly folded her hands.
He drew his chair closer. It was the first com- plaint she had uttered, and the pity of it all was suf- focating him. Sleeping or waking, he must have ever before him this picture of the suffering he had inflicted. Perhaps if it were settled now why she had been at the barn the morning after the fire the
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subject would leave her thoughts. At least, he could make the effort, and with evident hesitation he asked :
"Why were you there?"
She turned on her side and silently regarded him. A reproach he could not endure was in her manner, and he hastily added: "You said, in your delirium, that you were trying to put out a fire started by another."
She nodded.
"I knew you didn't set it!"-there was a note of relief in his voice-"even if I did see you."
"You have suspected me, Mr. Miller. I felt it as soon as I knew where I was, after the shooting. I didn't; I wouldn't." She was very weak, and she covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
He rose and walked across the room a time or two. When he sat down again she reached out her hand, and as he clasped it her fingers trustingly closed on his.
They were a long time silent. The clearing away of the mystery in the attempt to burn his barn brought them suddenly close. Since that trying
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morning a wall had risen between them, and as the days passed it seemed to grow higher. It could not shut away his tireless attention, his watchful anx- iety ; yet the feeling of comradeship had disappeared, and with it something had dropped from her life. But as suddenly as the barrier had risen it fell, and for the first time since she had been in his house she caught the faint splashing of the fountain.
She withdrew her other hand from her eyes, and moved it, too, down to his, her two over his one. She held him thus quietly a little while in the dim light of the noiseless chamber, two souls face to face once more after separation, and alone.
"I'm not wholly bad-tempered," she timidly whis- pered.
He hastily turned his face away, lest she should catch the quiver in his breath.
CHAPTER XVI
AS ONE THAT FOUND PEACE
M ILLER slept late next morning-Sunday. There could not well be a day of rest on a cattle range where many animals are cared for and fed, but on Aguas Frias the Sabbath passed more leisurely than other days, and the ranchero's con- science failed to rouse him at the accustomed hour.
The entire household, in fact, slept late, as if the past week had overtaxed their endurance; and Bailey, who had been watching with Belle since four, wondered if no one ever would stir. The patient had slept continuously, and he, too, had dozed till the sun rose; then he grew impatient, and concluded that he was not adapted to the sick-room.
Sounds came at last from within, as well as with- out, and Mrs. Clark appeared, to find her daughter still sleeping and the sheriff anxious to be relieved.
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Breakfast over, the sun climbed high in a cloud- less sky, and the air grew warm; but the master of Casa Grande slept on, and Bailey, for want of some- thing to do, wandered off with the men.
Belle waked at last, refreshed, and for the first time since she was wounded bethought of her per- sonal appearance. "I wish I had a looking-glass," she remarked.
From Miller's bureau her mother took an old- fashioned hand-glass and gave it to her daughter. The invalid studied her reflection, and a touch of sadness was in her voice when she declared that she was like a squaw.
Her mother smiled indulgently; she noted her daughter's milk-white complexion, unnaturally pale after the weeks of confinement, and lightly answered, "All but your skin."
"I'd like to fix up, maw," she said, half-ashamed of her unaccustomed vanity. "My hair can be brushed, and perhaps my sack is with the clothes you sent for."
When Bailey returned the girl was transformed, and as he caught the contrast of dark hair and skin
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almost transparent in its fairness, it recalled pictures he had seen of Madonnas. A sudden fear gripped him lest she would not live, but the red bolero vest she wore, snug and jaunty, left sufficient of the earthly to allay his alarm.
He lounged restlessly about the chamber, lost without the host. To put in the morning, he had wandered till tired, and then returned to the house. He asked if Miller had been called, but Manuel, who, more than any one else, had realised the strain of the past days, stood guard over the master's door.
"Meestah Jone dam' tired," was the well-meaning protest. "Heem all time smile, all time do this, all time do that; you theenk him no played out. You bet, heem sleepy! One week more, heem be die."
Now that they were reminded, each remembered how haggard Miller had grown, and they united in keeping the house quiet. But as the day wore on, and he did not appear, the silence became gloomy, and they understood what his absence meant.
"Where's Gyp?" asked Belle. "She hasn't been in this morning; she usually sleeps here."
Bailey went to find the dog, but Manuel told him
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that she was at her master's bedside. He did not add that he had lately looked in on the sleeping man and had seen Gyp crouched beside her master. He feared, if he did, that the sheriff would look in, too.
When Bailey wandered forlornly back to the in- valid she motioned to the chair beside her, and said, "Talk to me." She was moved by his dejection.
"What shall we talk about?" he absently asked, seating himself.
"Oh-the weather." The humorous gleam in her eyes reached through his self-absorption.
He leaned across the bed and cheerfully scru- tinised her, the smile fading from his lips. "I never thought you beautiful before."
The sudden flash of admiration embarrassed her, and she turned her face toward the windows, where blue sky showed. "Do you think it's going to rain soon ?"
"Rain!" He laughed boisterously at her evasion. "It doesn't look like it, now. But I have a feeling that it will before the week is past." He settled back in his chair, and his thoughts wandered. "Next Sun-
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day will be Thanksgiving," he continued; "not the holiday, but the celebration. I hope it '11 be dry. I'm going to send some turkeys. You must be well enough to come to table."
"I hope I may. I do want to get out of this !"
"Miller is a good fellow," the sheriff irrelevantly asserted.
She did not answer, but took up the mirror beside her and twirled it in her hands.
"Why don't you say he is ?" banteringly demanded the speaker.
She looked at him with a pleased expression, and softly laughed. "Oh, Sam, why don't you ask me to say the sun shines !"
He bent toward her, and replied, somewhat net- tled : "Doggone it! I don't see the harm of telling a fellow."
"Sam Bailey," she said, smiling again, "look in this mirror and tell me what you see."
He took the little hand-glass and examined its quaint design, its exquisite finish, but avoided his own reflection.
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