Ladybird (12 page)

“Gosh! What for?”

“Because we were all sinners.”

“Well, what did God care about that?”

“He cared because He loved everybody. He made them to be His children and do right and be His family, and everybody went and did what He told them not to do, and He felt bad. He had said everybody that sinned had to die, and He had to keep His word or He’d have been a liar, so He sent His Son to die and make a way for everybody that wanted to come back and be forgiven.”

The boy who had lived all his young life on the edge of an outlaw’s country opened his eyes in wonder at this, and silence filled the room for a long moment while each listener thought over this new version of what life and sin and death meant.

Then suddenly the mother turned toward the stranger and saw that her face looked worn and her eyelids were drooping.

“Say,” she said eagerly, “whyn’t you stay? You all could stay awhile, ennyhow, and git good en rested an’ read this book to us a spell.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” said Fraley, starting up in alarm. “I ought not to have stopped overnight really!”

“Well, you all gotta go to bed now. It’s way after bedtime.”

“Aw, Maw!” protested Jimmy. “It’s jes’ this one night, an’ we wanna hear more.”

“Yes, jes’ this one night for you all, but this child’s gotta go a-journey in the early mawnin’, and Car’line an’ Billy gotta take her down to the railroad. Hustle down quick now an’ no more words.”

Fraley slept with Caroline in a loft overhead that they reached by a ladder at the far end of the room, and presently the house was still, the fire banked, the door barred, and no chance to sneak away as she had half contemplated doing. Jimmy was sleeping on the cot in the big room downstairs, just at the foot of the ladder. The little window in the loft was too small to crawl through even if she dared drop so far, and the mother with her brood slept at the other end of the loft. So Fraley, with her hand out on the bag that carried her old Bible, fell asleep. Tomorrow, perhaps early in the morning, Brand was coming to buy steers, and maybe Pierce Boyden with him. But she was safe tonight.

T
he household was astir early, for the roosters began to crow at daylight and all the other creatures seemed to think it was time to wake up. Fraley dressed quickly and got down even before Caroline, who was primping a bit for the ride to town.

Fraley milked both cows in spite of the family’s protests, for they somehow felt that she was above such work But she insisted sweetly and carried her point, and then they all sat down to breakfast, Jimmy in open admiration now for a girl who could both read books and milk cows.

“Gosh, ef you’d stay,” he urged with his mouth full of corn cake, “we’d have a great time! Wouldn’t we, Maw?”

“I reckun we would,” said the mother with a sigh of regret. “But p’raps she’ll come back sometime when she gits done visitin’ her kinfolks.”

Fraley smiled. She was in a frenzy to be gone, but she could not hurry Caroline, who was enjoying her breakfast and had just reached over and helped herself to another piece of fried meat.

“We don’t have meat fer breakfast every day,” vouchsafed Billy with his mouth full. “It’s jes’ cause o’ you. I wisht you’d stay.”

It was just as they were leaving that Fraley ventured her request in the mother’s ear, as she said good-bye.

“Please don’t say anything about my being here to any of those men that come from around the mountain,” she whispered. “There’s someone I’m afraid of that might follow me, and I don’t want anyone to find out where I’ve gone.”

“All right, child, I won’t,” promised the woman with a kindly pat. “You’re a good girl, an’ ef anybody worries you, you jus’ come right back to us. We’ll see that no harm don’t come to ya. I’ll see that Jimmy don’t say nothin’, too. Don’t ya worry! Good luck to ya, an’ don’t cher fergit the Bible!”

“No, I won’t,” promised Fraley. “I’ve put the address safe in the Bible, so I can’t lose it.”

Then she went out and climbed up into the buckboard beside Caroline, her precious bag across her lap, and they started, Billy riding on behind atop the wooden box that held the groceries yesterday, his legs hanging down and swinging.

Away they drove over the winding brown ribbon of a road, over humps and hollows, until suddenly and surprisingly the log cabin was lost to view, and the country stretched wide before them, taking on a new aspect with the mountain far away and very dim.

Fraley kept glancing behind her every little while to see if there was anyone coming. She made the excuse of talking to Billy, but the morning was new and no one else in the wide world seemed abroad at this hour.

They were coming into country where the land was often fenced in little detached portions, and small bunches of cattle were kept meekly within bounds. Caroline discoursed wisely of the different ranches that could be seen as they went along, talked of the people who owned them and of cattle raising, as if it were a kind of sport. But mostly her talk was of the young men around and of their interest in herself. She found Fraley not very responsive on such topics but a good listener, and she grew more confidential and related how a man named Pierce Boyden came to see her sometimes and how he had kissed her the last time he came.

“Oh, Caroline!” exclaimed Fraley startled out of her reticence. “I wouldn’t let him!”

“Why not?” asked Caroline sharply.

“Because—” said Fraley earnestly and then stopped, realizing what it might mean if she let this girl know she knew the man and hated him. “Because—why—men are—. Why, Caroline, do you know anything about his man? He may be a
bad
man, Caroline! Does your mother know he kissed you?”

“Well, I guess not!” said Caroline proudly. “He wouldn’t do it in front of her. He’s a gentleman, he is. He has great big black eyes and black hair all sort of curly, and when he smiles he looks just like a king. You oughtta see him! He’s the best looker I ever saw.”

“But he might be a cattle thief or something! He might kiss other girls.” Then mindful of the midnight conversation she had heard concerning Pierce and feeling she ought to give a warning she added, “I know a man like that—hair and eyes and all, and he—he kissed a girl down in a town beyond where we lived. She wasn’t a nice girl. Men talked about her at night. That is, they said awful things about him too. I wish you wouldn’t do it, Caroline. Your mother has been good to me, an’ I wish you wouldn’t do it. You tell her what I said about that man, and you ask her if she thinks you ought to, won’t you?” she pleaded earnestly.

“Like fun I will!” snapped Caroline angrily. “An’ don’t you go to writing no high-flown letters to her about it neither ur I’ll tell her you did it because you are jealous of me, see?”

“Oh, Caroline,” said Fraley in distress, “you wouldn’t!”

“Sure I would,” said Caroline brightly. “Just you try me!”

“But it wouldn’t be true,” said Fraley quietly, as if that robbed the threat of its sting.

“I’m not so sure it ain’t,” said Caroline impishly, eyeing her companion with a furtive look. “I’ll bet you know him!”

But Fraley’s answer after a long wait surprised her. “Yes, I know him.”

“You do?” The other girl was startled. “Mebbe he’s kissed you, too.”

“Never!” said Fraley, and her face was grim with indignation. “I would rather be
dead
than have him touch me!”

Caroline laughed. “Gosh!” she said. “Well, you would. You’re one of them saints. I didn’t know they had ’em round here s’near ta Rogues Valley. Well, I ain’t; I’m jes’ flesh an’ blood an’ b’lieve me, I know a handsome man when I see him.”

From then on Caroline had the conversation all to herself, and she rattled on proudly about the devotion of the different young men she had met until Fraley turned her thoughts away in self-defense.

The country round would have been interesting to her if she had not been in a frenzy of fear. Now she had given herself away to this girl who had no sense of loyalty to a confidence, and here she was almost as badly off as if she had just started from her home mountain. If Pierce found out she had been here he would get the word to Brand at once, and Brand would call the gang and ride after her. There was no use in trying to doubt that. Brand thought she was his property. The last few sentences she had heard him and his drunken companions speak on the terrible night of her escape left no doubt whatever what her fate would be if she were caught. She could not even claim the protection of this good woman with whom she had passed the night. Brand and his crew were stronger than a mere woman. He would ride and take her, that would be all of it, and after that she was better dead!

What could she do about it? Would any appeal reach this girl as it seemed to have her mother?

The town, as they called it, turned out to be five houses widely scattered, a general store, and a station. Caroline drew up at the station with a flourish of her broken whip, and a smile and a cheerful word for the two men who stood on the platform, which was returned in none too courteous a manner.

“Well, here you be,” said Caroline. “You got a hour and some minutes to wait, I reckon, but I’ll hev to be gettin’ back. Pierce Boyden said he might be comin’ down ta-day, an’ I don’t wantta miss him.”

But here Billy rose. “Aw, Car’line! Maw said you wasta wait till her train come in. I ain’t seen it only twice in my life. I wanna wait!”

“You shet up!” said the elder sister in an ugly tone. “You shet up er I’ll tell maw you’re a crybaby!”

But Fraley was already getting out of the wagon. Caroline’s decision had brought intense relief to her. She did not mean to wait around any station and give Pierce or Brand a chance to waylay her, and if Caroline went now it would make her way much easier.

“No, don’t wait,” she said eagerly. “I don’t need anyone. It was kind of you to bring me, and I hope I’ll be able sometime to repay you.”

She wanted to ask Caroline please to say nothing about her being there, but when she looked again at the girl’s angry eyes and arrogant chin, she decided to leave things as they were. Perhaps Caroline would keep still on her own account, but if she did not she certainly would not do so for the asking. She was evidently angry at what Fraley had told her of the young man. Well, let it go at that. There were difficulties everywhere, and this was just one more.

“Good-bye, Billy,” said Fraley wistfully, “and thank your mother for the pleasant time. When I come back I’ll bring you something nice. Good-bye, Caroline, and thank you for the ride.”

Caroline lingered a minute to flirt with the two men on the platform, obviously showing off to the younger girl, and then, with a careless wave of her hand toward Fraley, she drove away and was soon a mere speck in the distance.

Fraley, giving a quick furtive glance around, moved away from the vicinity of the two men. She looked up and down the shining track that gleamed sharply in the morning sun and ran away in a bright ribbon as far as eyes could see in either direction. She marveled that this was a thing to bind the distance. Her mother had talked about the railroad. She had come west—on the railroad—years ago. Fraley knew about the sleeping cars and diners and the common cars. She of course could only afford a common car when she came to taking the railroad, but she was not ready yet. She would trust nothing but her two feet for the present. This getting mixed up with other people only seemed to make more and more trouble. But how was she going to get away with those two men watching her?

She studied the surroundings and read the sign over the store door. A store! She would buy something more to eat—some cheese or crackers or something that would be easily carried. It would be interesting to go into a store, and she would have an excuse to get away from the station without attracting their attention.

So she hurried across the space between and up the wooden steps of the store.

She had taken the precaution to tie one of her precious gold pieces from her belt into the corner of her crude handkerchief and to knot it round her wrist under her sleeve, for she had expected to have to pay something if she had to take the train; so now with confidence she entered the store and looked around.

It was as interesting to her wilderness eyes as a great city emporium would have been to a villager, and she longed to stay and examine the wares, of which there was a great variety, all the way from plows and shoes to crackers and cheese and dress goods. The bright tin pans were fascinating, also a nest of yellow bowls, and there was a piece of cotton cloth covered with little pink flowers. But she had no time for such things now. She looked around and saw some dried prunes with the groceries. Those were things that could be eaten raw; also there were apples. She bought two apples—after carefully asking the price—a quarter of a pound of prunes, ten cents’ worth of cheese—for hers was all gone—three eggs, and a box of stale crackers that had been in the store indefinitely. The eggs she meant to use in mixing up her corn meal when she found a safe place to make a fire by the wayside. They would be hard to carry but would make the corn meal go a great way.

She put the things in her coat pocket, placing the eggs carefully on the opposite side from the one on which she carried her bag, and while she waited for the storekeeper to make change, she asked a few questions. The storekeeper told her about the trains, gave her an old timetable, and was quite voluble in explaining the difference between local and express trains. He informed her that the next train east would be there in exactly one hour and fifteen minutes “if she wa’n’t late, which she usually was.” He invited her to be seated and offered her a Kansas City newspaper a week old to read. He said his wife came from “back east in Kansas,” but Fraley thanked him and declined. She said she would go out in the sunshine awhile and walk around, and so she slipped away.

The two men were just getting into a cart driven by a third man when she emerged from the door, and she waited by the door to examine a pair of shoes that hung just outside, tied together by its strings. She admired the smooth, stiff surface and decided that someday she would buy a pair, but she must not spare the money now. She did not even ask the price, but the shoes kept her back in the shadow until the men had driven away, and then she ventured forth.