Part 10 (1/2)
He left her then and when he had gone she felt a quick panic come. It all seemed so absurd, her struggling in the things which held her back; and his manner left her with a sense that he thought more than he had spoken, that his a.s.surance was founded well, that he would not be the tacit waiter he had suggested. She knew his pa.s.sion for her, she knew his will and it came to her then that beneath his sleekness he was ruthless.
She stared down Coyote creek, not following him with her eyes.
”The things I have wanted.... Yes,” she thought. ”But love: is that anywhere?”
The sound of the car departing roused her and she watched it go. Then a commotion in the corral attracted her. She saw horses milling, saw Tom Beck standing ready, rope in his hand; then, with a dexterous flip of the loop, a slight, overhand motion, he snared a pinto and braced his feet against the antics of the animal and held firmly until it had quieted.
She watched him go down the rope slowly, hand over hand, with caution and a.s.surance until he rested his fingers on the nose of the frightened animal. A forefoot shot out in a lightning stroke at him but he did not flinch. She saw that he was talking to the horse, gently, quietly, with the born confidence of the master.
”Anywhere?” she asked herself again, this time aloud, still watching Beck. ”Why,”--eyes lighting in surprise that was almost astonishment--”it might be ... _might_ be!”
CHAPTER IV
THE CHAMPION
Beck was still busy with the horses when Jane appeared, bareheaded and clad in a riding habit. He had separated the unbroken stock from the horses that had been turned loose for the winter and was playing with these last, overcoming the shyness that months on the range had engendered.
As she stopped at the corral he walked toward her, studying her face.
There was no trace of confusion or embarra.s.sment and for all he could discern she might have had her mind on horses only since early forenoon. That puzzled him because, though he was far from certain, he had felt that the scene which he had interrupted had caused her distress. Still, he reminded himself, this was not the type of woman he knew. She was completely strange to him; good margin, that, for coming to mistaken conclusions.
”These, ma'am, are the gentle horses,” he explained. ”I cut 'em out for you. They're some of the best you've got.”
”They're rough, of course,” she remarked after eyeing the animals a moment and he looked at her sharply because her manner was of one who is familiar with horses, ”but nothing here looks particularly good. Are these all you brought in?”
”I cut the rest into the little corral. There's some good ones there, but they ain't gentle.”
They walked toward the other enclosure and at their approach the colts gave evidence of alarm.
”Now that brown horse's been ridden some--”
”But what about the sorrel?” she broke in as a shapely head with a white star between the eyes and a flowing forelock tossed back over delicate ears rose above the ma.s.s of backs.
”Him, ma'am? He's probably the best colt you own; got the makin's of a fine horse, but he's a bad actor.”
Just then the crowding of the horses broke into a milling and the sorrel came into full view. A beautiful beast with white stockings behind, deep chest, high withers, short, straight back.
”He's a beauty!” she declared. ”He has bone and leg. He's gaunt now; not enough belly, but I suppose that's because he's been on the range.
I like that square hipped sort when you can get its strength without sacrificing looks.”
”You're acquainted with horses somewhat, I take it.”
”I've ridden some; hunted a little. Can you bring him out?”
Beck entered the corral and roped the horse. For an instant he resisted, head flung back and feet securely planted; then he came out of the bunch on a trot.
”He knows what a rope is. It don't take an intelligent creature, man or beast, long to learn.”