THE OLD RANCH
IT was a wonderful May day when Frieda and her Professor, Jack and her
two babies and nurse, and Olive arrived at the Rainbow Ranch.
Jim and Ruth Colter and Jean Merritt, who was their own Jean Bruce, of
the old Ranch Girl days, drove down to the same funny little frame
station to meet them. But beside the automobile they brought a great
wagon, which Jim drove himself, in order that they might take up to the
house as many trunks and as many people as could not be stored away in
the car.
Jack insisted on returning home alongside Jim, seated on the driver's
seat, her feet still not quite touching the floor.
She had put her babies in the automobile, with Ruth and Jean, so that
they might make each others' acquaintance. Moreover, she had a sentiment
in wishing to reach the old ranch with Jim as her companion. No matter
what had happened to her, no matter what should happen in the future,
Jim, who was her first friend, the manager of the old ranch, and her own
and Frieda's guardian, would remain her best friend to the end of the
chapter.
She knew, too, that Olive cherished many happy memories, while Frieda
was beatific these days in the company of her Professor.
Jack felt a singing in her heart and in her ears as she saw the wide
meadows now blossoming with purple clover and heard the western larks
rising high over the land, dipping toward it again, then soaring higher
up, as if they threw aside the call of the earth for the loftier one of
the air.
Jim and Ruth with their children, and Jean and Ralph Merritt and their
little girl, when they were at the ranch, lived in the great house which
the Ranch girls had built after coming into their fortune through the
discovery of the mine on their place. But the old Rainbow Lodge, where
they had all lived as little girls when it was rather hard to make
expenses in the dry seasons in Wyoming, had never been torn down.
Indeed, as a special request from Jack it had been kept in perfect
repair and still remained simply and comfortably furnished.
Whenever there were too many guests at the big house, some of them were
sent down here, and more often, when he could bear the ways of high
society no longer, Jim escaped to the old lodge for a quiet smoke and
perhaps an hour to himself. Now and then Ruth, his wife, would come to
join him, and they would talk of the early days at the ranch and their
first meeting, when Ruth was a prim New England schoolmarm.
So, as a favor, Jack had asked that the old Lodge be given over to her
use while she was at home. She and the babies would come up to the big
house for their meals, except at night when the babies could be better
taken care of at the Lodge. This would give all the more room for the
others.
So, as Ruth, Jim and Jean, realized that Jack sincerely wished this
arrangement, they had agreed with her desire. Jack had married so soon
after the building of the house, which Frieda had named "The Rainbow
Castle," that she had never learned to feel any particular affection for
it. So in coming home she wished to return to the house she had loved
and remembered.
On either side of the old Lodge, Frieda's violet beds were still
carefully tended and today were a mass of bloom.
Olive and Frieda and the Professor insisted on getting out first at the
Lodge with Jack and Jim. When they entered the old living room it was so
like the one they recalled that the three women, who were girls no
longer, felt a sudden catching of their breath.
But of course Jim and Jean had arranged the old room to look as much
like it formerly did as possible. They had the Indian rugs on the floor,
the old shelves of books, with just the books the Ranch girls had owned
long before, the great open fireplace and the tall brass candlesticks on
the mantel.
Then before leaving for the station Jean had filled the room with
bunches of violets, as Frieda had once been accustomed to do.
"It is still just the loveliest, homiest place in the world!" Frieda
exclaimed.
Jack did not feel that she could speak for the first minute, and the
next Jean had come running in carrying Vive in her arms and with Jimmie
beside her. They were followed by Jean's own little daughter,
Jacqueline, and by two other little girls, who belonged to Jim and Ruth
and another Jimmie, who was somewhere between the biggest and the
littlest Jim.
Then there was, of course, the immense confusion of the arrival and the
settling of so large a number of guests. Besides there were so many
children to be looked after who always must be considered first.
That evening there was a dinner at the big house, at which everybody
talked a great deal, asked a great many questions and answered them. But
in reality they were all too tired and excited to get much satisfaction
from one another.
Afterwards, although Jim and Jack walked home alone to the Lodge, they
did not try to say a great deal to each other. Only at parting Jim said,
"Have a cup of coffee in the morning early, Jack. I have promised Ruth
not to take you too far, but I've a new horse for you to try and I want
you to have the first ride over the ranch with me, while the others are
still asleep. You and I are the only ones who have ever really loved the
dawn out here in God's country. Ruth has left some riding togs for you
somewhere in your room."
Waking before six o'clock next morning, Jack was lying in bed breathing
deeply of the sweet clover-scented air, when she heard a never to be
forgotten whistle outside her window.
She stuck her head out.
"I'll be down in ten minutes, Jim. Is that the horse for me? Isn't he a
beauty? But hitch yours and mine somewhere outside and open the Lodge
door, I didn't lock it last night, and come in and start my coffee. I
just opened my eyes this minute."
Ten minutes later, as she had said, Jack slid quietly downstairs so as
not to arouse her children. She smelt the delicious aroma of the coffee
in the old Lodge kitchen, once presided over by old Aunt Ellen, who had
died a few years before. She also discovered Jim helping himself to the
first cup when she appeared. But instead he gave it to her, got another
for himself and handed her a napkin filled with sandwiches which Ruth
had provided. Then they drank and munched as silently and contentedly as
they always had in each other's company during many years and various
experiences.
But they had both stepped out on the big front porch of the Lodge, when
Jim suddenly swung round and put his hands on Jack's slender shoulders.
He had seen something in her face which the others had not, perhaps
because he had always cared for her most.
"Ain't anybody been doin' anything to you, you don't like, Boss?" Jim
demanded, purposely breaking into the old careless speech he had used
before Ruth's coming to Rainbow Ranch to educate them all, and Jim more
than any one. "Because if anyone has, you know you can always count on
your old pardner."
But Jack only laughed and shook her head rubbing it against his sleeve,
as a young colt does. This had been one of the things she used to do as
a girl, half as an expression of affection and half to conceal her
embarrassment.
Then Jack ran out to where her horse was waiting. She had on a khaki
riding costume, a new one, but except for that, pretty much of the same
kind that she had been accustomed to wearing as Jacqueline Ralston.
She was now looking over the horse critically.
"He is one of the most perfect creatures I ever saw, Jim. I don't care
what other people say, I like our fine western horses better than any
others in the world."
"Try him, Jack," and Jim lifted her lightly up.
The next instant she had gone down the avenue like a streak of light,
whirled and come back again.
"His movement seems perfect, too, but I'll have to give him more of a
test before I can decide."
She then started off again with Jim Colter beside her.
"If you like him, Jack, the horse is a present from me. I got him and
had him broken for you. I don't ever want anyone else to use him."
Jack's face flushed. "Jim, there never was anybody so good to me as you
have always been, and no one who has ever understood me so well. I don't
mean that there is much to understand, but what there is I know you
believe the best of."
"Well, I don't expect there is anybody who began to know you as soon as
I did, Jack," Jim Colter answered, realizing again that there was
something behind Jack's words which she did not exactly wish to confide
in him.
It was all very well for the rest of the family to say Jack didn't look
a day older. She was better looking than she used to be, if that was
what they were talking about, and her figure looked very slim and sweet
and girlish, as she rode there beside him, as gracefully and as much at
ease as ever. But Jack's expression was different, there were shadows
under her eyes, no matter how her lips were smiling. Jim remembered
that even if he had liked Frank Kent, he never had thought much of
Englishmen as husbands for American girls.
But he said nothing more on the subject to Jack, only pointing out
objects in the familiar, old landscape which they both loved, and
realizing that if Jack had anything to tell him she would do so of her
own accord later on.
They were late to breakfast, of course, so they found that all the
others, having finished, were out on the lawn waiting.
"I suppose Jim tried to show you every horse and every cow on the ranch,
Jack," Ruth began. "I hope you are not worn out, child. I told him to
allow you one night's rest."
Ruth Colter was growing very matronly these days with her husband and
son and two daughters to look after. She and Jim were to have two other
daughters, to repeat as they always said, another group of four new
Ranch Girls. But as yet only two had put in their appearance.
"Yes, and after she has had breakfast I want to take Jack and everybody
down to the Rainbow Mine. I always feel it belongs more to Ralph, and
to me than to the others. Oh, simply because my husband was its first
engineer."
Jean's eyes were as brown and velvety as ever and she wore that little
expression of pride and self satisfaction that comes into the faces of
so many women who are married to successful men. It is as if they shared
the pride and glory of the success, without any of the effort or
necessary disappointment.
"Remember, Henry, when you and Ralph were more or less blown up going
down the shaft of the old mine. It was after that, Frieda adopted you."
The Professor nodded. "I had my legs broken didn't I, so I couldn't get
away? Well, Frieda always prefers her victims helpless."
Frieda tossed her head and walked away as she always had done when any
member of her family teased her.
Later in the day all the family and half a dozen visitors did go down to
the old mine, which was still yielding a fair amount of gold, but not
half so much as in the old days. Afterwards, lunch was served in the
neighborhood of Rainbow creek and most of the day was spent outdoors.
Toward the close of the afternoon, however, everybody else wandered away
leaving the four one time Ranch Girls together.
They were sitting in the afternoon sunshine on a patch of grass not far
from the neighborhood of the creek.
Jack was lying down with her head resting in Olive's lap, Frieda was
close to Jean and now and then putting her hand inside her cousin's for
a moment. She and Jean had always been cronies in the old days, when the
four of them had been divided into pairs over some small issue.
"I don't believe this is far from the place where Frank and I discovered
the first gold in Rainbow creek," Jack remarked drowsily, a little worn
out from the excitement of the day. "How filled the old ranch was with
memories and thoughts of her husband!" Jack smiled to herself. Certainly
she had been the impatient one and Frank the patient in those many
months of her long illness.
Whatever anger Jack had felt in regard to her husband's autocratic
attitude toward her, had entirely disappeared soon after saying farewell
to him. But the puzzle was still present. Frank had been kind and sweet
to her for the time before she left home. But never once had he frankly
declared that in future he would be willing for Jack to decide important
questions according to her own judgment, even as he must act by his own.
And this was what Jack wanted, the sense of spiritual freedom.
"When is Frank coming over to join you, Jack?" Jean Merritt asked
unexpectedly. "Ralph hopes to get home from his work at the canal in a
few weeks and it would be a great pleasure if he and Frank could be here
at the same time."
"Frank, oh, Frank isn't coming at all, Jean. He couldn't possibly leave
his own country now, while they are at war. There is so much he feels he
ought to do."
Jack hoped she was not blushing, but was painfully aware that Frieda's
eyes were fixed somewhat critically upon her. Frieda was giving herself
more airs than ever, now that she and her Professor were reconciled, and
she had been able to persuade the British Government to allow her to
bring him to the United States. The truth was the Professor had finished
the scientific work he had undertaken, and in coming to his own country
at the present time would be enabled to get hold of materials much
needed in England.
Not actually realizing, but guessing at Jack's embarrassment, Olive
remarked hastily.
"After all there is some advantage in being an old maid, one does not
have to worry continually over being in the same place with one's
husband. You will all have to come over to see my Indian School some day
soon. Perhaps I am wedded to that."
"Nonsense, Olive," Frieda murmured, "but really I don't see why you have
never married. You were obstinate enough about not accepting poor Don
Harmon, but then you got most of your grandmother's money after all.
Still you must have had other chances. You are as good looking as the
rest of us and some people like brunettes best."
As Frieda's own yellow hair was at this moment unbound, so that it might
get the air and sunshine, and as she looked at it with utter
satisfaction as she spoke, her three companions laughed unrestrainedly.
"Oh, come now Frieda, you don't really believe anyone has such poor
taste as that," Olive teased.
But at this instant seeing that Jack's nurse was coming toward them
carrying Vive in her arms, Frieda got the best of the situation as she
often did.
"Oh, well, perhaps the combination is prettiest after all. Vive is the
only real beauty with her dark eyes and yellow hair."
Frieda held out her arms for the baby, who came to her with little
ripples of happy laughter, and the two blonde heads, which were so
nearly the same color, were held close together.
"I believe Vive really is the prettiest of all the children," Jean
remarked critically, which was good of her, since she had a little girl
of her own.