Too Long a Stranger (Women of the West) (28 page)

***

"Is Ebony ready yet?' Rebecca asked sweetly as she approached Seth, who was running the curry comb over the sides of the skittish Rhubarb. She had put on one of her most fashionable gowns, tied her bonnet casually on her shoulders rather than placing it on her head so she could show off her dark curls to the best advantage.

"Don't come too close, miss," he advised, then flashed her a bright smile. "Ol' Rhubarb is one sour horse. You never know what he might decide to do."

"Why do you use him then?" asked Rebecca, feeling a bit put out. He would not even be able to smell her cologne from that distance.

"He pulls good," he answered simply. "As long as I keep my eye on him—he behaves himself. I just don't trust him. You never know what might spook him."

"Spook him. Like what?"

"Um-m-m, anything. Flying birds. Barking dogs. Fancy-smellin' perfume."

So he had noticed. Rebecca felt her spirits lift.

"You're good with horses," she said. She had always found that young men loved compliments.

"I like 'em. Generally quite predictable—once you get to know them. Not like some things."

"Like?" queried Rebecca, tilting her head so the sun could splash off her crown of hair.

"Oh—grizzly bears. New mamas. Pretty girls."

"Pretty girls!" she exclaimed, her voice feigning annoyance.

He lifted his head from his work to look up at her. His deep brown eyes glinted with subdued laughter.

He was teasing, she could see that. But she liked it. She tilted her head and pretended to be perturbed. "I'll bet you tease all the girls," she accused him.

"Girls? I don't even talk to 'em if I can help it," he said matter-of-factly. "I've much better luck talking to horses."

Rebecca tipped her head and observed him. He really was quite nice looking. She paused for a moment, then responded, "Maybe that's because you have never given a girl proper attention. Perhaps if you tried as hard with—with her—as you do with a horse—you might be pleasantly surprised." Rebecca swung on her heel and walked toward the house. She had taken only a few steps when he called out to her. "You asked about Ebony. He should be ready sometime next week."

Rebecca turned and looked back at him. He was still currying the horse, but she saw him lift his eyes for just a moment and give her a bit of a nod.

The Clash

"I think you're still working too hard," said Boyd.

"I
am
tired," said Sarah and eased herself into a chair. "I think it's just this hot weather."

"Are you still taking the daily route and doing everything at home, too?" Boyd asked her frankly as he crossed over to her and offered her a cold drink.

Sarah nodded.

Doing it all
—
and then some,
she admitted to herself silently. The work at home had been even heavier since Rebecca had arrived with all of her starched crinolines and frilly dresses and expectations.

"Maybe she's just hesitant to go ahead on her own. Work with her for a while."

"I've tried. She just looks at me absentmindedly, shrugs, and walks off."

"Well—she certainly has come to a different lifestyle than she was used to."

Sarah admitted that. She had been trying to be patient with Rebecca. She knew that the girl was struggling. Was feeling alone and bored and out-of-touch.

"She plays the organ real nice," went on Boyd.

"She says she hates it." Sarah's comment brought a surprised look to Boyd's face. "I guess it is a rather beat-up old instrument compared to what she was used to," Sarah continued. "It bothers her no end when a key sticks and puts out a sour chord. After last Sunday she says she'll never play it again."

They looked at each other and could not suppress a laugh.

"You have to admit—it
was
rather funny," said Boyd.

"Not to Rebecca. She was embarrassed to death."

Boyd nodded in sympathy. "Hear the youth are thinking of an outing," he said.

Sarah lifted the glass from her lips. "Really? That would be wonderful." Perhaps this was the answer she had been praying for.

"Pastor was talking to me about it. Wondering where would be a good place to hold it. I offered our backyard. Guess it's one of the biggest in town. I told him I'd put together a few tables so they could picnic there. It was Seth's idea. He's concerned about the youth of the town that never go to church. Thinks they could be invited to something like this."

"It sounds wonderful," said Sarah.

"I'm sure Rebecca will look forward to something to do with other young people," Boyd went on.

Sarah hesitated. "I don't think I will tell her," she said at last. "It—it might mean more if the invitation comes from one of the young people—from Seth."

For a moment Boyd looked surprised and then he smiled. "Might at that," he agreed.

Sarah stood and handed the glass back. Already she was feeling better. The cold lemonade helped, but it was the news about the coming youth party that had given her the lift.

***

A letter finally came from Stanley. Rebecca had been waiting for it. Longing for it. She tore it open with trembling fingers.

The first paragraphs were news about family and plans for coming events. He had finished at the Academy and managed to pass in all his subjects.

Then he wrote that he still hadn't decided what he would do next. His mother had been enlisted to help appease his father. Between the two of them they had argued his case. They were apparently successful, for his father had agreed to let him put off choosing a vocation for the next year or so. "Maybe I should be a lawyer after all," Stanley quipped. "I think I must have presented my case remarkably well, for one does not influence Father easily." So now he was off to Europe—for a year. Or more if needed. "Father says I may as well get it out of my system now. Maybe then I will be settled enough to study." Stanley sounded very pleased with the arrangement. Rebecca was heartbroken. He hadn't even said that he would miss her dreadfully or that he wished he could see her before he left.

Rebecca crumpled the letter in a trembling hand and gave way to tears.

***

Seth finally brought Ebony home. "He's gentled fine," he said. "I'm quite sure we can trust him now, but just to be sure I think we should ride together the first time or two."

Rebecca had no objection. "Very well," she nodded, trying hard not to let her real enthusiasm show.

"I'll get him saddled while you get changed," he offered.

Rebecca walked demurely toward the house, though she wished to run. She took down her most attractive riding habit and proceeded to dress, trying to be careful but also hurry. She didn't want the young man to change his mind.

When she returned to the corrals Seth was waiting patiently against the corral fence, one hand stroking the dark neck of Ebony. Rebecca stopped in confusion. The horse Seth was to ride stood nearby without a saddle.

"I thought you intended to come with me," said Rebecca.

"I do," he answered.

"Then why is your horse not saddled?"

"I'll ride bareback."

"Bareback?" Rebecca had never heard of such a thing.

"Without a saddle. I do it lots of times," Seth answered easily.

Rebecca's eyes then went to Ebony. Ebony had a strange-looking piece of gear on his back.

"But—but—what—where'd you get that?" Rebecca floundered, pointing with her crop.

"It's mine," he answered. "Your mother doesn't have a saddle."

"But I—I've never ridden with—with anything like that before," went on Rebecca.

Seth turned to look at her and then it was his turn to look surprised. "I thought you were going to change for riding," he said.

"I did," replied Rebecca, now in a bit of a huff.

"But you can't ride in that," said Seth, indicating her riding habit.

"I can't ride in that," rejoined Rebecca, pointing at the saddle.

"What do you mean? I can adjust the stirrups to wherever you need them."

"Stirrups? It's not only the stirrups."

Seth looked calmly back at Ebony, who stood patiently waiting for his rider.

"I get it," he said, seemingly unruffled. "You're used to an English saddle."

"I don't care what nationality it is," said Rebecca in mock annoyance. "I just want to be able to ride."

Seth chuckled. The laugh soothed Rebecca's irritation.

"Well, miss," Seth said slowly, "you are now in the West. I guess if you want to ride, you'll just have to learn to use a western saddle."

Rebecca was still flushed.

"Now—you run on in and change into something sensible and we'll—"

"Sensible," echoed Rebecca. "What do you mean sensible? I'll have you know that this—this is quite proper—in fashion."

Seth turned to her and lifted his hat to scratch his head. When he spoke again his voice was calm and gentle. "It looks lovely, miss. Real lovely. But all that ribbon and lace a flutterin'. .." He paused, then went on. "Ebony's gentled but he's not used to that. It could spook him so's he'd never stop runnin'. Honest! I would never dare put you on a horse wearin' that."

Rebecca tried to calm herself. She wanted the freedom of riding. She hated to be cooped in the house day after day. She would pay almost any price to be able to escape.

"What do you wish me to wear?" she asked, trying hard to control her voice.

"Just—just something that—that won't rattle in the wind," he replied.

"Like?"

"Like a pair of your ma's trousers."

Rebecca's eyes filled with horror. She would
never
wear those. Never. Not if she grew old sitting in the small kitchen. She gave him one long glaring look and spun away.

"I am not made for trousers," she hissed. "I am a lady."

He stood for one moment looking at her evenly and then he nodded and stepped past her.

"Yes, ma'am," he said. His voice was still gentle. "A lady to be sure."

And he casually began to remove the saddle from the back of Ebony.

***

Rebecca was both surprised and pleased when Seth invited her to the youth outing. After the saddle incident, she had thought that the two of them might never speak again.

But apparently Seth did not carry a grudge. He appeared, hat in hand after finishing with the horses one evening, and explained about the picnic to a flushed Rebecca.

"I was hoping you'd consent to go with me," he ended his little speech.

Rebecca nodded. She did not wish to appear too eager.

"I'll give it thought."

"Yes, miss. But there isn't much time for thought. The party is tomorrow evening."

At first Rebecca felt annoyance. Why hadn't he asked her earlier? And then she forced herself to swallow her pride. It wasn't like she had other plans for the evening.

"I'd—be pleased to go," she managed to say.

He smiled. There was something dreadfully disarming about his smile. Rebecca flushed, regardless of her poise obtained at Tall Elms School for Girls.

"I'll pick you up at eight, miss," he said, smiled, tipped his hat, and turned to go.

Rebecca hesitated for a moment and then called after him, "Just a minute."

He turned back toward her.

She felt embarrassed. She wished she had just let him go. But now she was committed to continuing. She took a deep breath and began before she lost her nerve. "I—I was just thinking," she said. "If—if we are going to the picnic—together—then maybe—maybe we should—well—call each other by name."

He nodded.

"I'll see you tomorrow night then—Rebecca," he said.

She stood in the soft glow of the twilight and listened to his whistle until the sound faded into the night.

***

It was a strange event. Rebecca had never been to one quite like it. Oh, they had fun—and the young people that she met were much like the ones she had known back East. She supposed that young people all around the world were probably much alike even though they might dress differently or speak a little differently. Rebecca was rather surprised to discover that she was quite enjoying herself as the evening moved on.

Seth, though not gushy or romantic like the other boys she knew, was really quite attentive and actually a lot of fun to be with. Rebecca sensed that there were other girls there that night that would have more than welcomed his special attention.

It wasn't the fun or the food that surprised Rebecca. It was the ending of the evening. Rebecca had already gathered from the conversation that many of the young people who were in attendance at the picnic were from the town—yet not from the church. So she was more than a little surprised when at the close of the evening, Seth stepped forward and said he wished to leave a little devotional thought with the group.