Part 25 (2/2)

”I'm sorry to deflate Mr. Ingram's balloon,” I said, ”but Persis has already told me about the bones I found in the mine. They probably belong to a man my great-grandfather shot in the bad old days. The deringers were his. So of course a .41 bullet would be found.”

”And you believe her?”

”Of course I believe her. But I'm sure that Mark Ingram will make something of nothing if he can. It doesn't matter. My 282.

grandmother can stand against him, and she's not going to stand alone.”

”I don't know, Laurie. Ingram is much too pleased about this. He was laughing when he showed me the bullet. I don't like it that he's coming to see your grandmother tomorrow.”

”She wants him to come. I'm sure that whatever is there in the mine can be identified in other ways.”

”Nevertheless, you'd better warn her. I wonder if she's strong enough to endure what he may do.”

”If she's not, I am.”

My words surprised me a little, and they surprised Hillary too. He was still watching me rather strangely, as though I had turned into someone he didn't know, someone who didn't entirely please him. Which was, perhaps, what had really happened.

He edged near me on the sofa and took my hand. ”This isn't the right moment for romantic speeches, but I meant what I said this afternoon, Laurie. I'd like us to be married. Then I can stand with you too.”

It was difficult to explain something I didn't understand myself. Nevertheless, I had to try.

”Something has happened to me since I came to Jasper. I don't seem to want the same things I used to want. Or perhaps I've just begun to find a way back to what is really me and to give it a chance to surface. I know I don't want to be married right now. I can't go on pretending that I still feel the way I did. It's hard to say this, Hillary, but I must.”

For a moment or two he sat very still, studying me, his expression revealing nothing. Then to my dismay, he turned my hand and kissed the palm gently.

”You've been badly shaken, and there are psychic wounds that need time to heal. You can't be sure how you feel about anything right now. Isn't that true?”

I drew my hand from his. ”No, I don't think it is, Hillary.”

I.

I could sense the sudden tension in him, but he made an effort to control whatever he was feeling.

”Listen to me, Laurie. I'm going to stay on at the Timberline and start this work on the Opera House. Perhaps there (may even be some compromise eventually between your grandImother and Mark Ingram. She doesn't have to be driven out if she doesn't want to go.”

”No, she doesn't,” I said.

Now he was angry with me. ”I'm going now,” he said stiffly. ””I'll see you later-when you've had time to think everything over.”

I went with him to the door and watched him go striding off toward the Timberline with the same swinging walk that used to thrill me. Now it seemed a shade too theatrical. Perhaps he was releasing his own annoyance with me into that swinging stride.

Feeling a little shaken, I want upstairs to take Belle's place, freeing her to go to the Timberline for her things. My grandmother was out of bed again, sitting beside one of the long windows.

”Good!” she said, turning her head to stare at me. ”You look a lot more rested. We'll need our wits about us when Ingram comes to see me tomorrow.”

There was no use trying to hold anything back. It was better to have it come from me than from Ingram.

”Grandmother, Mark Ingram has gone to the mine and his men have found the bullet from the deringer. I think he means to make something of this if he can.”

She listened calmly. ”Nothing is changed. No one can prove that was Noah Armand in the mine, no matter what Ingram would like to7believe. The whole thing is ridiculous, and we can forget it.”

”But he may bring out-other things.”

”By now that doesn't matter either. Oh, I realize there may 284.

be a three-ring circus for a while. Once I thought I could never face that. I know better now. It will all die down, as scandals always do when something juicier comes along. Will you mind terribly, Laurie? All they can do is stir things up. You were a child when it happened.”

She reached out to me, and I took her hand in both of mine. ”We'll get through whatever comes together,” I said. ”And nothing at all may happen. There's nothing Ingram can fight us with but intimidation. And that can't beat us down if we don't let it.”

She nodded. ”Will you telephone Jon for me, please? Ask him to come up here right away.”

I went to the extension in her room, and when Jon said he would come my spirits lifted. He was the knight of my childhood, riding a cow pony.

How foolish could I get?

In his worn Levi's he didn't look much like a knight when he came into the room, but my grandmother had confidence in him and so had I. He listened to what Hillary had just told me about the bullet being found in the mine tunnel, and he agreed that Ingram was bluffing and had no strong hand to play from.

”Except for his willingness to fight dirty,” Jon said. ”We have to be on guard against that.”

I loved seeing these two together. Jon didn't play the game of flirting with her, of playing up to her as Hillary did. He simply treated her as a woman whom he respected and listened to, talking with her easily. He made no concession to her age, and just the way he treated her made her grow a little stronger.

Why, I wondered, had she left so much of her wealth to Caleb Hawes in that earlier will when she might have made Jon her heir? But I knew the answer well enough. Caleb was the logical manager of her money affairs. Jon would have wanted none of that, and if she had ever broached the matter to him, I knew very well that he would have refused.

When he left, I went downstairs with him, and there was a moment when we stood on the porch together. A moment of sharp physical awareness, each of the other. He made no sudden move, but put a hand on my arm, drawing me to him. I went gladly, eagerly, but he held me lightly, kissed me, and let me go.

”This is crazy, Laurie. You know that,” he said, and went away from me before I could protest. I was left shaken and a little angry with the stubborn man he was. When he was out of sight, I went into the kitchen to heat milk for Persis, doing busy things to quiet my indignation and my longing.

I wanted to shout, ”Why is it crazy? How can it be crazy when I love you?” But he had gone away too quickly, and I was left to nurse my own heavy disappointment.

As I was about to take Persis' milk upstairs, I saw Belle corning along the walk. One of Ingram's men had brought her over in a car, and he carried her bags up the steps and left them inside the door. Her grin was as cheerful as ever. If she had felt any pangs about parting from Mark Ingram, she didn't show it.

”There'll be a trunk coming tomorrow,” she said. ”I'll take care of these bags later. Want to give me that milk to take up to Mrs. Morgan, Laurie?”

I gave her the tray and went out on the porch again, looking out at the scattered lights of Jasper and the ma.s.sive shadow of the peaks rising to block the sky. The Timberline was alight, as usual, and I saw nearer lights as well. Someone must be working inside the church tonight, and I wondered what was being done in there.

So far I'd not had time to look inside the little church that had been freshly painted and restored, and now I started toward it. I was too restless and distraught to go to my room, and I needed some purpose to use up my energy.

How quiet the town seemed at night. Except for someone singing a bit raucously down at the Timberline, a hush lay over 286.

the street. I knew my way by this time, and I didn't mind the dark. Where there were lights, a sheen of wetness lay over everything, and I stepped carefully to avoid puddles. The night air was fresh and clean and briskly cold, and my courage began to return. We would work together against Mark Ingram, Persis and Jon and I. Between Jon and me the last word hadn't been said yet. There was more to come. He had wanted to hold me.

The church was only a block away, and as I walked toward it I saw the light move in the windows. Whoever was inside carried a lantern and was moving about. The double doors stood open, and I went up the few newly painted steps and stood in the vestibule.

The entrance s.p.a.ce was narrow and filled with shadows, the doors to the church proper opening across it. I went to stand where I could see in.

The interior had not yet been restored, and it was hardly a church anymore, except for the vaulted beams of the ceiling and the round window ahead, above what had once been an altar. The pews-perhaps they had been only benches-were gone, and the bare, shadowy s.p.a.ce was unfurnished except for several straight chairs and a wooden table on which the storm lantern now rested.

One of the chairs was occupied by a woman who sat in a posture of utter grief, her head upon arms that had been flung across the table. Her shoulders moved as I stood watching, and if the woman had been anyone else, I would have gone silently away. But it was Gail Cullen who sat weeping in this deserted place, and perhaps it would be good to know why.

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