Part 4 (1/2)
”What's Jack come about?” she asked.
”To say my fastidious relatives want me to go home, which would mean leaving you behind.”
She looked at him searchingly, and then laughed.
”And you won't go?”
”That's the message I sent.”
Ellice's face softened, though there was a hint of indecision in it.
”You're all right, Cyril, only a bit of a fool.”
”A bit?” he said dryly. ”I'm the whole blamed hog. But enough of that.
We'll pull out for the homestead to-morrow. I expect Wandle is robbing me.”
”He's been robbin' you ever since you bought the ranch. I don't know why you stopped me from gettin' after him.”
”He saves me trouble,” explained Jernyngham, and they discussed the arrangements for their return.
Prescott, arriving home, had a brief private interview with Colston, who realized with some disappointment that his errand had failed. Then the rancher harnessed a fresh team and proceeded to a sloo where his Scandinavian hired man was cutting prairie hay. An hour or two later Muriel went out on the prairie and walked toward a poplar bluff, in the shadow of which she gathered ripe red saskatoons, and then sat down to look about.
The dazzling blue of the sky was broken by rounded ma.s.ses of silver-edged clouds that drove along before a fresh northwest breeze. Streaked by their speeding shadows, the great plain stretched away, checkered by ranks of marigolds and tall crimson flowers of the lily kind that swayed as the rippling gra.s.ses changed color in the wind. A mile or two distant stood the trim wooden homestead, with a tall windmill frame near by, girt by broad sweeps of dark-green wheat and oats. These were interspersed with stretches of uncovered soil, glowing a deep chocolate-brown, which Muriel knew was the summer fallow resting after a cereal crop. Beyond the last strip of rich color, there spread, s.h.i.+ning delicately blue, a great field of flax; and then the dusky green of alfalfa and alsike for the Hereford cattle, standing knee-deep in a flas.h.i.+ng lake. The prairie, she thought, was beautiful in summer; its wideness was bracing, one was stirred into cheerfulness and bodily vigor by the rush of its fresh winds. She felt that she could remain contentedly at the homestead for a long time; and then her thoughts centered on its owner.
This was perhaps why she rose and strolled on toward the sloo, though she would not acknowledge that she actually wished to meet him. The man was something of an enigma and therefore roused in her an interest which was stronger because of some of the things she had heard to his discredit.
Following the rows of wheelmarks, she brushed through the wild barley, whose spiky heads whipped her dress, pa.s.sed a chain of glistening ponds, a bluff wrapped in blue shadow, and finally descended a long slope to the basin at its foot where the melting snow had run in spring. Now it had dried and was covered with tall gra.s.s which held many flowers and fragrant wild peppermint.
A team of horses and a tinkling mower moved through its midst, and at one edge Prescott was loading the gra.s.s into a wagon. Engrossed as he was in his task, he did not notice her, and she stood a while watching him. He wore no jacket; the thin yellow s.h.i.+rt, flung open at the neck and tightly belted at the waist, and the brown duck trousers, showed the lithe grace of his athletic figure. His poise and swing were admirable, and he was working with determined energy, his face and uncovered arms the warm color of the soil.
Muriel drew a little closer and he stopped on seeing her. His brown skin was singularly clean, his eyes were clear and steady, though they often gave a humorous twinkle. If this man had ever been a rake, his reformation must have been drastic and complete, because although she had a very limited acquaintance with people of that sort, it was reasonable to conclude that they must bear some sign of indulgence or sensuality.
The rancher had no stamp of either.
He showed his pleasure at her appearance.
”You have had quite a walk,” he said. ”If you will wait while I put up the load, I'll take you back.”
Muriel sat down and watched him fling the gra.s.s in heavy forkfuls on to the growing pile, until at last he clambered up upon the frame supporting it and, pulling some out and ramming the rest back, proceeded to excavate a hollow.
”What are you doing?” she asked.
”Making a nest for you,” he told her with a laugh. ”Now, if you'll get up.”
While she mounted by the wheel he stood on the edge of the wagon, leaning down toward her. There did not seem to be much foothold, the gra.s.s looked slippery, and the hollow he had made was beyond her reach, but she seized the hand he held out and he swung her up. For a moment his fingers pressed tightly upon her waist, and then she was safe in the hollow, smiling at him as he found a precarious seat on the rack.
”You couldn't see how you were going to get up, but you didn't hesitate,”
he said with a soft laugh, when he had started his team.
”No,” she smiled back at him. ”Somehow you inspire one with confidence. I didn't think you would let me fall.”