Part 32 (1/2)
The Hoomers had come to be prominent in the church now--at least, Ma Hoomer and Lou-Jane had. It was Lou-Jane's doing. And Hartigan, after long delay, felt bound to pay them a pastoral visit. Lou-Jane was heartiness and propriety combined. She chatted gaily on every subject he opened; showed no forwardness; was even shy when, after dinner, he sat down near her. Her riding at the racetrack was vividly in his mind and she blushed quite prettily when he referred to it in admiration.
”You should see my pony take a fence,” she said.
”Well, sure; that's what I'd like to see,” was the response.
”Some day soon, maybe.”
”Why not now?” he inquired.
”I must help mother with the dishes.”
And he thought: ”Isn't she fine? I like a girl to consider her mother.”
But he lingered and chatted till the dishes were washed; then he suggested: ”If I go out and saddle your pony, will you show me that jump?”
”Certainly,” she answered, with a merry laugh.
He went to the stable, saddled and brought the bay horse. Lou-Jane put her foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle before he could offer his help.
”Drop all the bars but the middle one.” Hartigan did so, leaving only the three-foot bar of the pasture. Lou-Jane circled off and cleared it without an effort.
”Raise it one,” she shouted.
He did so, and over she went.
”Again.”
Now, at four feet, the pony rose and went over.
”Another,” and he raised to four and a half feet. As before, she and her pony sailed over like one creature.
”Again,” and he raised it to five feet. The pony rose with just a hint of effort. One front hoof touched, but he made the jump in triumph.
Lou-Jane laughed for joy and circled back, but, warned by that toe tap, jumped no more. She leaped from the saddle before Jim could come near to help and in his frank, beaming admiration she found what once she had hungered for in vain.
As he rode away that day, his unvoiced thought was: ”Isn't she fine--and me misjudging her all the time! I'm ashamed of myself.”
Lou-Jane watched him out of sight, waving a hand to him as he topped the hill. The visit and Hartigan's open delight in her riding had stirred her very much. Was it loyalty to Belle that led her to throw up a barrier between herself and the Preacher? or was it knowledge that the flowers are ever fairest in the fenced-in field? This much was sure, the interest of pa.s.sing attraction was giving place to a deeper feeling. A feeling stronger every month. Lou-Jane was in the game to win; and was playing well.
August, bright and fruit-giving, was pa.s.sing; September was near with its dryness, its payments on the springtime promises; and Belle, as she gazed at the radiant sky or the skurrying prairie dogs that tumbled, yapping, down their little craters, was tormented with the flight of the glowing months. In October the young Preacher and she must say good-bye for a long, long time, with little chance of any break till his course was completed, and he emerged a graduate of Coulter. That was a gloomy thought. But others of equal dread had come of late.
Hartigan was paying repeated pastoral calls at Hoomers' and last week Jim and Lou-Jane had ridden to Fort Ryan together. It was a sort of challenge race--on a dare--and Jim had told Belle all about it before and after; but just the same, they had ridden there and back and, evidently, had a joyful time.
Jim was a child. He always thought of himself as a coa.r.s.e, cruel, rough brute; but really he was as soft-hearted as a woman; and, outside of his fighting mood, nothing pained him more than the idea of making any one unhappy. His fighting moods were big and often; but they had existence only in the world of men. He believed himself very wise in the ways of life, but he had not really begun to see, and he was quite sublimely unconscious of all the forces he was setting in motion by his evident pleasure in the horsemans.h.i.+p of Lou-Jane Hoomer and in their frequent rides together.
Lou-Jane had a voice of some acceptability and she was easily persuaded to join the choir. A cla.s.s in Sunday-school was added to her activities, and those who believed the religious instinct to be followed closely by another on a lower plane, began to screw up their eyes and smile when Lou-Jane appeared with Jim.
The glorious September of the hills was waning when a landslide was started by a single sentence from Lou-Jane. She had ridden again with Jim to Fort Ryan. Her horse had cleared a jump that his had s.h.i.+ed at.