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last few yards to the waiting buggy.
"Webb, I want to go home. Now." Lilli was seized by the urge and couldn't
shake it. It was an unreasoning kind of fear that she couldn't explain. But it
was suddenly imperative that they go back to the ranch this afternoon.
He took his watch from his vest pocket and looked at the time. "It's late.
We'd never make it before nightfall, and I'm not going to try to travel over
those roads in the dark."
"Please. I have this feeling we should go." She looked at him earnestly,
silently imploring him to listen to her. "I want to see Chase, and make sure
he's all right."
Webb hesitated. For an instant, Lilli thought she had won him over; then he
shook his head. "No. We'll spend the night here as we planned and get an early
start in the morning. Ruth's taking good care of our son."
"Yes." She admitted that, but with more than a trace of agitation.
He put his arm around her waist and fitted her close to his side. "This
business with Kreuger has spooked you." He smiled warmly at her. There was
pride in his eyes for this slim, strong woman who carried his name. She was
beautiful and spirited, with a will to match his. Even now, she was pushing
away the fear that shadowed her eyes.
"Maybe so," she conceded.
"Do you suppose I can persuade a certain married woman to have dinner with me
tonight?" he murmured, his voice growing husky.
"You can try," she replied on a faint note of challenge.
The afternoon sun was leaning toward the west, slanting its rays through the
boarding-house window. Franz Kreuger pulled the blind so the light wouldn't
disturb his wife. She had closed her eyes only minutes ago, finally drifting
into a much-needed sleep. He slipped quietly out of the room and down the
stairs to the parlor.
"How is she?" Doyle Pettit looked up briefly, then finished pouring liquid
from his pocket flask into a glass.
"She finally went to sleep. She will be better." Franz Kreuger refused to
believe anything else. He moved to
the window, an impatience claiming his actions; his gaze was restless and
hard. "We should be going home. We have been away from our place too long. So
much work has been left undone for so long."
"It looks as if it's going to be some time before your wife is in any
condition to travel." Doyle took a drink of the bootlegged whiskey.
"I'll have to leave her here until she is better." Franz was confident his
wife would understand. She had never disagreed with any of his decisions, and
she would see the sense of this one. "I have decided to go this afternoon."
"Calder won't be leaving until in the morning, so it's probably a good ideaa
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that you leave today." Doyle nodded his agreement. "I'll arrange for Mrs.
Rogers to look after your wife until she's better."
Kreuger faced him, suspicion lurking in his narrowed eyes. "You have done much
for me, and I can't pay you."
"But you will." Doyle smiled away that concern. "I pride myself on being a
good judge of character, Kreuger. You are the sort that always pays your
debts. This drought won't last forever. Was long as you have your land, you'll
be harvesting wheat one day. That means business for my grain elevator, my
bank, and my hardware store. By helping you, I stand to gain a lot, too." Much
more than Kreuger ever suspected. Doyle was confident that everything was
going to work out as he had planned it. He lifted his glass in a silent drink
to it.
When Kreuger saw the many ways Pettit stood to profit from helping him, it
eased his mind. The day would come when he would pay him back. He accepted
charity from no man. Pettit indicated he respected him for that, which pleased
Kreuger. He'd rather die than grovel at the feet of any man, so he didn't
offer his thanks for the help Pettit had given him. The man would be paid, so
gratitude wasn't necessary.
"I will leave now," Kreuger announced. "Please tell my wife that I will come
to fetch her in three weeks."
"Of course." Doyle inclined his head. Not until after Kreuger had left the
boarding house did a smile spread across his face and a different light began
to shine in his eyes. "Hurry home, Kreuger," he murmured and chuckled softly.
"Hurry home."
Early the next morning, the Model T was on the road, making the return journey
to the ranch. Webb and Lilli passed families of drylanders, a common sight
now. Some were on foot, others in dilapidated trucks, and still more in
wagons. But the dust didn't seem as bad. And the wind generated by the
fast-traveling automobile made the hot temperature bearable. There were
stretches of land blackened by range fires, and more acres mounded into dirt
dunes, dotted with thistles that were fodder for milk cows. They drove by
hardscrabble farms with chickens scratching futilely in the dirt and bone-thin
pigs wallowing in the dust.
It was a relief when they reached the unmarked gate to the Triple C Ranch. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]