Jubilee Trail (26 page)

John smiled at her faintly. “If you have sized me up, Mrs. Grove, you may have noticed also that I like to mind my own business.”

“Do you really? I don’t. Not all the time. Well, I guess I’ll see you again, so goodby for now.” She smiled at him. “Thanks for bringing me home.”

“You’re quite welcome. Goodby.”

Florinda went indoors. John put on his hat and started back through the noisy street to his own lodgings.

S
ILKY AND PENROSE CALLED
to see Garnet again the next day. Sober now, and penitent, they wanted to apologize for having come to see her while under the influence of liquor. They assured her that they had the greatest respect for ladies, and would not have dreamed of popping in like that if they had known they were to meet, not Oliver, but Oliver’s charming wife. And they hoped they hadn’t said anything offensive, and if they had, would she please, please forgive them?

Silky did most of the talking. Penrose was not so glib with words, but he beamed and agreed. They brought her presents. Penrose gave her a jade necklace and Silky begged her to honor him by accepting a length of flowered satin. They had bought these from Yankee ships at San Diego, they told her, and the necklace and the satin had both come all the way from China.

Garnet thanked them, and said they had not offended her at all yesterday. She thought they were funny.

She saw no more of John, or of Texas either, and to her surprise Florinda did not come over. Several times in the next few days she saw Florinda on the street, the center of a group of men on their way to the Fonda or one of the gambling houses. Mr. Bartlett was always with her. He would hold her arm possessively, beaming proudly at the others, evidently delighted to have them see him holding such a treasure. The gentlemen swept off their hats and bowed to Garnet as they passed, and Florinda waved blithely. Whatever her plans for the future, she did not seem to be worried about them.

A week after the arrival of the California men, Oliver returned from Taos. Oliver was in high spirits. They had made a good trip, and now he was eager to see the mules John had brought. He went by his store, leaving a message that John was to meet him there, and came home again to change his clothes. Garnet asked him,

“Oliver, how did you ever happen to go into partnership with that man? He’s so different from you!”

Oliver was lacing his shoes. “My dear,” he said, “John is an ideal foil for me. I enjoy life too much to be a really tight-fisted businessman. John never thinks about anything but money.”

“He was shocked when he learned you were married,” said Garnet. “And he was simply appalled when I said you were taking me to California.”

“It’s a hard journey,” said Oliver, “and you look as if you ought to be sitting in a garden under a parasol. John doesn’t know how much nerve you’ve got.”

“Do you think that’s the only reason?” she asked doubtfully. “He thought I’d crumple up on the way?”

“Why yes, of course that’s what he thought, and you can’t blame him for thinking so.” Oliver tied his shoestrings, and looked up seriously. “We aren’t going through any land of enchantment and roses, you know. You’ll live rough and you’ll eat disagreeable foods, and sometimes water will be doled out by cupfuls. I know you can stand it. In fact, with your liking for new adventures, you’ll probably even enjoy it. But you can’t expect John to know that.”

“I think he brought you a letter,” said Garnet.

“Did he? From Charles?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t leave it with me.” She told him how John had addressed her in Spanish, and then had denied having a letter.

Oliver laughed as he heard her. “That sounds like John. He doesn’t trust anybody. It’s probably a letter from Charles, telling me what’s been going on at the rancho this past year. Of course I know you wouldn’t read it. But John would figure you couldn’t resist the temptation to find out whether or not it came from a girl.” He ruffled her hair and kissed her. “I’ll go on back to the store now. Home before dark.”

Garnet walked with him down the passage that led to the street. He went off, and she stood watching the people go by. The street was always interesting. Everything went on under a faint haze of tobacco smoke. The natives of Santa Fe, men and women and sometimes even children, smoked all the time. They carried bags of tobacco and packets of thin brown paper, from which they rolled little tubes they called cigaritos. Ladies of the upper classes held the cigaritos with little gold pincers, so the smoke would not stain their fingers. The smoke curled about their heads as they stood in the street talking, and made fragrant blue patterns over their bright clothes.

Garnet saw Florinda, coming down the street with Bartlett, Silky, Penrose, and several others. They were all laughing and talking, in great spirits. As the men bowed to Garnet, Florinda paused.

“Oh Mr. Bartlett, do you mind if I run in and show Garnet these beautiful silver buttons you gave me? Wait here, I won’t be a minute.”

“Sure, sure, my sweet, go right in.”

Mr. Bartlett, scented with liquor as usual, smiled upon Garnet happily. He was proud that Mrs. Hale had recognized Florinda’s noble qualities, in spite of the fact that her morals had need of repair. Florinda slipped into the passage, and chattered as she drew Garnet back inside the house.

“Look, Garnet, real silver! Mr. Bartlett said if I was going to use metal buttons I might as well have good ones. He’s so generous all the time.”

“Shall I keep them for you?” Garnet asked. “You might lose them on the street.”

“Why yes, you take them. I’ll get them later.” She closed the door, and lowered her voice. “Why don’t you drop around to the Fonda tonight, Garnet? It might be fun.”

“Florinda, what have you got in your head now? You haven’t spoken to me for a week!”

“I’ve been busy, dear, helping to give Santa Fe its reputation. Well, I’d better run along. The gents want to play monte.” She opened the door and started out. “Thanks for taking care of the buttons. Well, let’s go, Mr. Bartlett.”

Garnet had walked back into the passage with her. Florinda went off with her friends. Garnet heard them say, “Hi there, John,” and a moment later she saw John Ives on his way to meet Oliver at the store. Garnet had an uncomfortable feeling that John and Oliver were going to talk about her.

She went back into the house, and told herself that she was simply being foolish. Oliver wasn’t uneasy, and certainly Oliver knew more about John than she did. Out here on the trail, she was meeting with so many new experiences that it was no wonder she was getting jittery. She resolutely got out the collar she was making for Florinda, and set to work.

When she saw Oliver that evening, he did not seem to be troubled. He told her John had brought a fine lot of mules and other goods to be sold to the Missouri men. With the blankets Oliver had bought in Taos, and the others they would get from the Indian weavers around Santa Fe, they would make a profitable trip to Los Angeles. They had a lot of work ahead of them, but everything looked fine so far, and now he was as hungry as a coyote.

“Did he bring you a letter?” asked Garnet.

“Why no,” said Oliver, “he didn’t.” Oliver was pouring water into the wash-basin.

“I wonder what he said to me, then?” she asked.

Oliver began to scrub his face. “I asked him, but he doesn’t remember exactly the words he used—‘I came to see Oliver,’ or something like that. Stop making me talk, Garnet, now I’ve got soap in my mouth.”

Garnet felt better. It was a relief to find that she had really misunderstood what John said.

While Señora Silva served their supper, Oliver told Garnet about the mountain of supplies he would have to get for the journey to California. “You won’t be seeing much of me from now on, I’m afraid,” he said, “but I hope you’ll understand.”

“Oh yes. That’s all right.”

Oliver smiled at her affectionately. As Señora Silva understood no English, they talked as freely at meals as if she had not been there. “Garnet,” he said, “are you as fond of me as I am of you?”

She nodded. “I love you enormously.”

Señora Silva took away their plates and brought the goat’s milk cheese that usually ended their meals. Oliver said nothing for a moment, then as he picked up his cheese he added thoughtfully, “You know I’m not good enough for you, don’t you, Garnet? Because I’m not.”

“No, I don’t know anything of the sort. I’ve had more fun since I’ve been married to you than I ever had in my life before. That reminds me, can we go to the Fonda this evening?”

She briefly told him that Mr. Bartlett had asked Florinda to marry him. She did not know what was going to happen at the Fonda, but she wanted to be there. Oliver was amused, but he said,

“She’d better be careful about telling him the truth. Bartlett won’t think it’s funny.”

Garnet had no time to repeat what she had said to Florinda about Mr. Bartlett’s being a wicked deceiver at heart. They had finished supper, so she put on her bonnet and shawl and they went out.

The Fonda was full of noise and people and tobacco smoke. Florinda was there, surrounded by Mr. Bartlett and a dozen other Americans. She was merrily entertaining them, as though she had nothing on her mind but her present occupation of pouring drinks. As Garnet and Oliver came in she waved to them gaily. The men gave Garnet exaggerated bows. Oliver found a place to sit, and the waiter brought them a bottle of wine.

Florinda’s group was not far away. Mr. Penrose sat on the table, strumming a guitar and singing snatches of song. He played very well, though he was slightly drunk and kept having to ask for help. Florinda was chattering.

“No, really, Mr. Van Dorn, you drink that yourself; I don’t like it. Go on playing, Mr. Penrose, I like to hear you. Why yes, of course I remember that song. I heard it in my cradle.”

She lifted herself to sit on the table by him, and sang to guide him.

“Oh maybe you think

That my cheeks are so pink

Because I’ve been dreaming of you—

That’s how it goes. Everybody knows it, it’s a thousand years old. But go on playing it. Right now I’ve got to see how Mr. Bartlett’s getting along. He needs a drink. Yes, Mr. Bartlett, here it is. Brand-new bottle, all for you.”

Mr. Bartlett was staggering and happy. She filled his cup and laughed appreciatively at something he said to her.

Garnet looked around. She saw Texas, apart from the others, sitting with a cup and bottle in front of him. He was drinking quietly, as though it were a matter of business. John Ives approached through the crowd. He had a cup, but he was carrying it sideways, his finger through the handle. The cup was empty, and John appeared quite sober. He paused on the other side of the table and greeted her. Garnet returned his greeting, and John continued,

“May I interrupt you?” he took a paper from his pocket and offered it to Oliver. “Here’s a list of the prices we’re offered for the mules.”

“Good work,” Oliver said as he glanced over it. “Sit down.”

He moved nearer to Garnet, and John sat down on his other side. In a moment they were deep in conversation. Oliver was here only to humor Garnet; he thought Florinda was an entertaining minx, but he was not much interested in her ultimate destiny. He was asking John about the growth of mesquite on the desert. The height of the mesquite had something to do with indicating the water supply, but Garnet did not understand it, so she looked back to where Florinda was busy with her admirers. Penrose was trying to find his way through another tune. Florinda prompted him, but she added laughing,

“Say, Mr. Penrose, you sound like you came over with Columbus, singing all those old songs. You’ve been away too long. I’ll sing you some new ones. But first get me a drink of water. My throat’s as dry as a bone.”

“Florinda knows all the songs,” Mr. Bartlett boasted unsteadily. “She remembers all the words, too. Fine woman, Florinda.”

“Come over here, Mr. Bartlett, and let me straighten your collar. You look like a bum. I can’t have the whole town talking about how badly I keep you.”

Mr. Bartlett approached and let her straighten his collar. He loved it. Silky Van Dorn came nearer, gazing up at Florinda with foggy-eyed curiosity.

“Now where did I see you? Such a ravishing woman, how did I ever forget?”

Florinda swept her blue eyes over him, teasingly.

“You still don’t remember?” she asked.

“Not yet. But I will. So fair a face, such golden hair!”

“It’s not golden. It’s flaxen. It’s nearly white.”

“But so beautiful I’ll remember, I know I will.”

She gave him a tantalizing smile. “Some day I’ll tell you.”

“You know where it was?” he exclaimed.

“Why certainly. Only you’ve hurt my feelings by not remembering, so I’m going to let you worry about it a while. No, don’t take that bottle, Mr. Van Dorn, that one belongs to Mr. Penrose. I’m keeping it for him while he finds me a drink of water. This one’s yours.”

Oliver turned from John, and spoke to Garnet. “Florinda’s not going to give herself away, is she?”

“I don’t know. A lot happened that I haven’t had time to tell you about. Mr. Van Dorn thinks he remembers her from New York.”

“She’d better be careful,” Oliver remarked again.

Garnet looked at Florinda uneasily. Florinda was listening with a show of fascinated attention to something Mr. Bartlett was mumbling to her. Just then Texas, in his corner of the room, half raised himself from his bench and shouted, “I’ve never been to New York. I came from Texas. Republic of Texas.” He sat down again, and rested his chin morosely on his hand.

Oliver laughed and shook his head, and John glanced across him to say to Garnet, “Don’t be afraid of Texas, Mrs. Hale. He’s quite harmless.”

Mr. Penrose was passing their table. He had stuck his guitar under his arm, and he was carrying a pitcher of water with both hands. He paused by Garnet.

“Now Mrs. Hale, please don’t you mind Texas,” he urged. “Texas is all right.”

“Why yes,” said Garnet, somewhat puzzled. “I’m sure he’s all right.”

Mr. Penrose’s square flat face was very earnest.