The Jeweled Spur (4 page)

“You got her?” Cody inquired. He’d been impressed at how easily she’d mounted but was still worried.
If she gets hurt, I’ll get all the blame for it,
he thought, and almost decided to demand that she get down and ride his horse.

But he had no opportunity, for the mare took advantage of her rider by leaping forward and at the same time twisting to one side. She’d used this tactic often, and only the most alert and skilled riders had been able to keep their seat. But the light burden on her back had merely shifted, and abruptly Lady had felt a strong grip draw the bridle up, forcing her head high, thus preventing any more tricks.

“Now that you’ve got that out of your system,” Laurie said firmly, “we understand each other.” She looked back at Cody, who was staring at her incredulously. “Ready?”

Cody blinked, for he’d seen several good riders who’d been tossed trying that same maneuver. He shook his head in admiration. “Yeah, I guess I am.” He moved to his own horse, swung into the saddle, and they left the corral.

Twenty minutes later, Cody reined his horse to rest. When Laurie pulled up beside him, he said, “Well, I guess you’ve got yourself a horse while you’re here, Laurie. I never seen the beat of it, though.” He shoved his hat back on his head and grinned at her. “I guess what Lady needed was another female just as stubborn as her. Where’d you learn to ride like that?”

“Don’t forget, Cody, my father’s a cavalry officer. I was
riding when I was three years old.” She was pleased by his compliment, much more than with his notice of her appearance. They took a long ride, and though Lady tried every mean trick in her repertoire, by the time they were back at the ranch, she was as docile as her name. “I can unsaddle her myself, Cody,” Laurie said, and proved the truth of her claim. “Do you think Uncle Dan will let me ride her while I’m here?”

“Sure. He’ll be real proud of you,” Cody answered. “But you can’t wear that outfit to the dance next Saturday. Did you bring a party dress?”

“No—I didn’t think I’d be going to a party.”

“Mom will have one you can wear. Save me a dance, because you’ll be all booked up soon as you hit the floor!”

****

By the end of the week, the two families had grown very close. They met Zane Jenson, Hope’s younger brother, and his wife, Rosa, who lived on their own place only six miles to the east. “It’s nice to have family near, isn’t it?” Laurie had said to Cody.

The younger children of the two brothers were near enough in age to play well together, and the two women became fast friends. Hope had put her arm around Laurie, smiling, “I wish Cody would fall in love with you and marry you. Then I could keep you here.”

“That’s a good idea,” Dan said, coming into the room. “I’m glad I thought of it. He doesn’t look like much, but look at what a handsome father-in-law you’d have!”

“Oh, hush, Dan!” Hope said, putting on her bonnet. “Ready to leave for the dance?”

The dance was one of the best Laurie had ever attended. She was instantly besieged by numbers of young men, but her father used his rank to claim one waltz for himself, and then Dan Winslow took his turn. As they were swirling around the room, Laurie said, “Cody’s girl is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Uncle Dan.” They both glanced over to where
Cody was dancing with a young woman with blond hair and striking blue eyes.

“Yes . . . too beautiful, maybe,” said Dan, keeping his eye on Cody and Susan Taylor. When he looked back at Laurie, he added, “She’s a good girl, but I’m not sure she’ll ever settle down to being the wife of a cowman. She likes the towns and the bright lights.”

“Are they engaged?”

“No, not yet. Cody’s tried everything to get her to take his ring, but Susan keeps putting him off.” He changed the subject abruptly, and soon the number ended, and Dan took Laurie back to her seat.

Finally the hour grew late, though the time went fast, for Laurie had had a partner for every dance. It had been such a fun time, but now as she was on her way to the refreshment table, escorted by a soft-spoken cowboy, Smoky Jacks, she heard a disturbance at the other end of the room.

“Never mind that, Miss Laurie,” Jacks shrugged. “We have a brawl or two at all these parties.” Just at that moment Laurie saw Cody, his face stiff with anger, shove his way out of the crowd and walk toward the door. Susan Taylor called after him, but when he ignored her, she turned to a tall man in a beautifully tailored suit, who began to draw her to one side.

“Oh, it’s just Cody and Harve Tippitt fighting over the Taylor girl. They’re at each other all the time, but I guess Cody’s had enough this time.”

****

During the rest of their visit, the Tom Winslow family had very little communication with Cody, for he grew more and more withdrawn. Hope spoke of this to Laurie on the last day of the visit. “I wish Cody would forget Susan,” she remarked as she helped with the packing. Looking up, her voice tinged with sadness, she added, “She’s not the woman for him—but that’s hard for a man to see when a girl’s as attractive as Susan.”

“I hear her family is well off, too,” Laurie said.

“Two good reasons why she might not fit into ranch life,” Hope said, then shook her head. “Dan and I have been concerned about it, but we know that Cody is stubborn. Gets it from me, I suppose.”

Laurie smiled at this. “I guess all women have to make adjustments after they get married, don’t they? But it’ll work out, I’m sure.”

In the living room, the two brothers were having a final talk. Tom said, “It’s been a wonderful time for all of us, Dan. I hate to go back to that drab old army post—”

“Don’t do it then, Tom,” Dan said, giving his brother a sudden look. Seeing the surprise on Tom’s face, Dan suggested, “Why don’t you resign from the army, come here, and help me with this ranch?”

“Why—this is your place, not mine, Dan!”

“There are two ranches, really. Logan Mann and I bought one place, and Hope’s first husband this one. After her husband and Logan died, we tried to make one ranch out of the two. But they’re so spread out it’s difficult to work together. Zane married Rosa and purchased a ranch not too far away. That way there’d be family close by.” Dan came over and put his hand on Tom’s shoulder. “It would be a good thing for all of you. This is a good place to raise kids—and I know you and Faith have been unhappy with the way officers are transferred from one post to another and how hard that is on kids.”

Tom shrugged. “That’s the army way, Dan.”

“I won’t press you. Why don’t you just speak to Faith about it?” he said gently. “Remember when we talked about how it used to be—with all our kinfolks just down the road?”

“That was the best, but—”

“It could be like that again. Our kids could grow up together in this valley. They’d know their cousins and uncles and aunts. Our children’s lives would be tied together like ours were.”

Tom had never really given the thought much consideration, though he and Faith had wished for a more stable life. The army had become his home, but he’d been wondering if it was worth the sacrifices his family had to make.

“I’ll talk to Faith, Dan.”

“Fine!”

The two men said no more, but on the way back to Arizona, when all the children, including Laurie, were asleep, Tom told Faith about Dan’s proposal. She listened carefully, then said, “He’s a generous man, your brother.”

“Yes. What would you think of making the change?”

“I’ll go where you go, Tom,” she responded. She looked at Ruth sleeping on the seat, at Jubal across from them, and finally at Laurie. “It would be nice to be close to family,” she finally said quietly. Then she took his hand and gave her ultimate answer—”We’ll pray about it, Tom.”

CHAPTER THREE

The Legacy

One of the “volunteers” of the cavalry troop commanded by Thomas Winslow was a huge dog, which had been named Ugly by the cook. He had suddenly appeared one day and had refused to move on. “Probably got away from an Indian camp,” L.C. Holmes, the grizzled cook, had complained. “They eat all the good-looking dogs, but this one is too ugly to eat.”

Laurie had never owned a dog, so she had immediately adopted him. Her parents had refused at first, but when Ugly wouldn’t leave, they relented, with the stipulation that she couldn’t have him near the house. She’d fed the hound by begging Holmes for scraps from the mess hall.

Late one afternoon two weeks after the family had returned from their trip to Wyoming, Laurie gathered up the remains of several meals and went to feed Ugly. She found him tied to a fence by a short rope. As she approached, Sergeant Hollis said in a disgruntled voice, “That blasted dog is a pest, Miss Laurie! I can’t break a hoss for his meddling.”

As the sergeant walked away, Laurie sat down and stared at the big dog. He was no beauty, being a multicolored mixture of red, brown, black, and gray, his coat resembling a patchwork quilt. His legs were too long for his body, and he had a blunt head with cropped ears and a set of eyes that didn’t match—one blue and one brown.

“Why don’t you act right, Ugly?” Laurie spoke sharply, and Ugly gave her a disdainful look. He was not in the least
affectionate, and when Laurie or the younger children tried to play with him, he was known to give them a sharp nip—not enough to harm them but enough to sting. Now, however, he was hungry and whined in his throat and pawed at her, signifying his willingness to behave.

Laurie, disgusted with the dog’s hypocrisy, took a bone with a large chunk of meat clinging to it and extended it to the hungry animal. Ugly snatched it from her hand and started to devour it, but Laurie was feeling cranky and grabbed it from him. “You’re nothing but a greedy pig!” she exclaimed. “You never appreciate a thing I do for you!”

When the girl held the bone toward him again, Ugly lunged at it, but was stopped short by the rope around his neck. He was a strong dog and the corral shook as he threw himself toward the prize that Laurie held, but she tormented him by holding it just beyond his reach. “Now, you ugly beast, will you be a little bit grateful for what you get?”

“Don’t reckon he will, Laurie.”

Whirling at the sound of the unexpected voice, Laurie saw her father standing behind her. He was watching her now with a steady gaze, and Laurie flushed, embarrassed that he’d found her tormenting Ugly. She had always wanted to please her father, and said, “Oh, Daddy, I don’t know what’s the matter with me—being mean to poor old Ugly!”

Tom Winslow watched as she set the food on the ground, then untied the dog. Ugly fell on the feast, the bones crunching beneath his strong teeth, growling deep in his throat as Laurie tried to pet him. She clenched her fists and put them on her hips. “See if I bring you anything else, you sorry critter!” Then she turned to her father, and he saw that this daughter of his was close to tears—which pulled him up sharply.

Can’t remember the last time I saw her cry,
Tom thought. She had been the pride of his life for a long time, and suddenly he was aware that letting go of a child was a painful affair.
When she was a little girl with a problem, she’d come to me, and I’d hold her on my lap and stroke her hair—but
a man can’t do that with a young woman like this. I’ve lost her somewhere along the way—that little girl with the trusting eyes and small hands that clung to me.
A pang pierced Winslow’s heart, and he realized it was the grief that all men and women suffer when time steals the gentle things from them, and when the young grow up so that all that’s left of the past are the fleeting memories—
and even those slice at a man like a razor,
he thought.

“Old Ugly isn’t the most affectionate dog I ever saw,” he said, his voice soft on the August breeze. A smile turned the corners of his broad lips up, giving him a wry expression. “Reminds me of a friend I had back in Virginia when I was a kid. No matter how much anyone did for him, he snatched at it and never gave a word of thanks. Guess a dog as homely as Ugly just naturally gets fed up with people.”

Laurie shot a startled glance at her father’s tanned face. He had always taught her like this—finding something in his experience or in the surface of her own world to give her some guidance. But she was so unhappy that she shook her head, sending her train of glossy black hair swinging along her back. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Daddy.”

“Why, I guess I do.” Tom Winslow nodded toward the dog, who was finishing off the last of the meal. “You take a dog like Ugly, now. One sure way to make him cranky and mean is to tie him up and let him get bored and hungry. Then you offer him something he really wants, like some juicy bones.” He paused, admiring the satin smoothness of her cheeks and the sweep of her clean-cut jaw, then shrugged, adding, “And then just when he’s got it, why, you yank it back so he doesn’t get it.”

Laurie’s eyes were fixed on her father’s face, for she knew he was saying more than his lazy tones implied. She was a quick girl, especially with him, for the two had spent so much time together during the years on the plains, they could almost read each other’s thoughts. As she pondered what he’d said, her eyes narrowed and her lips grew firm. Her father
had always said that she was like a bulldog with a thought, that she’d never give up until she got the meaning of things.

“You mean that our trip to see Uncle Dan made me unhappy?”

Winslow nodded, then stepped closer and laid his hand on her shoulder. “You’ve been discontented here at the post for a long time, Laurie. Then you had a fine time when we went there. It wasn’t just Wyoming, though,” he said gently. “You’re hungry to get away—just like Ugly was hungry for those bones. And just like him, when you got a taste of freedom from this life, and then it was snatched away from you—why, you have to get a little mean or you wouldn’t be human. We’re all like that when we don’t get what we want.”

“No, that’s not right,” Laurie answered swiftly. Looking up into his face, she looked very vulnerable, but there was a stubborn set to her lips and a directness in her dark eyes. “You’re not like that, and Mother’s not. Neither one of you likes this post, but you don’t go around tormenting animals!”