the Light Of Western Stars (1992) (40 page)

"No!"

"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Stewart
.
"Why not let me go?It's the thing to do
.
I'm sorry to distress you and your guests
.
Why not put an end to Don Carlos's badgering?Is it because you're afraid a rumpus will spoil your friends' visit?"

"It isn't-not this time
.
"

"Then it's the idea of a little shooting at these Greasers?"

"No
.
"

"You're sick to think of a little Greaser blood staining the halls of your home?"

"No!"

"Well, then, why keep me from doing what I know is best?"

"Stewart, I-I-" she faltered, in growing agitation
.
"I'm frightened-confused
.
All this is too-too much for me
.
I'm not a coward
.
If you have to fight you'll see I'm not a coward
.
But your way seems so reckless-that hall is so dark-the guerrillas would shoot from behind doors
.
You're so wild, so daring, you'd rush right into peril
.
Is that necessary?I think-I mean-I don't know just why I feel so-so about you doing it
.
But I believe it's because I'm afraid you-you might be hurt
.
"

"You're afraid I-I might be hurt?" he echoed, wonderingly, the hard whiteness of his face warming, flushing, glowing
.

"Yes
.
"

The single word, with all it might mean, with all it might not mean, softened him as if by magic, made him gentle, amazed, shy as a boy, stifling under a torrent of emotions
.

Madeline thought she had persuaded him-worked her will with him
.
Then another of his startlingly sudden moves told her that she had reckoned too quickly
.
This move was to put her firmly aside so he could pass; and Madeline, seeing he would not hesitate to lift her out of the way, surrendered the door
.
He turned on the threshold
.
His face was still working, but the flame-pointed gleam of his eyes indicated the return of that cowboy ruthlessness
.

"I'm going to drive Don Carlos and his gang out of the house," declared Stewart
.
"I think I may promise you to do it without a fight
.
But if it takes a fight, off he goes!"

XV - The Mountain Trail As Stewart departed from one door Florence knocked upon another; and Madeline, far shaken out of her usual serenity, admitted the cool Western girl with more than gladness
.
Just to have her near helped Madeline to get back her balance
.
She was conscious of Florence's sharp scrutiny, then of a sweet, deliberate change of manner
.
Florence might have been burning with curiosity to know more about the bandits hidden in the house, the plans of the cowboys, the reason for Madeline's suppressed emotion; but instead of asking Madeline questions she introduced the important subject of what to take on the camping trip
.
For an hour they discussed the need of this and that article, selected those things most needful, and then packed them in Madeline's duffle-bags
.

That done, they decided to lie down, fully dressed as they were in riding-costume, and sleep, or at least rest, the little remaining time left before the call to saddle
.
Madeline turned out the light and, peeping through her window, saw dark forms standing sentinel-like in the gloom
.
When she lay down she heard soft steps on the path
.
This fidelity to her swelled her heart, while the need of it presaged that fearful something which, since Stewart's passionate appeal to her, haunted her as inevitable
.

Madeline did not expect to sleep, yet she did sleep, and it seemed to have been only a moment until Florence called her
.
She followed Florence outside
.
It was the dark hour before dawn
.
She could discern saddled horses being held by cowboys
.
There was an air of hurry and mystery about the departure
.
Helen, who came tip-toeing out with Madeline's other guests, whispered that it was like an escape
.
She was delighted
.
The others were amused
.
To Madeline it was indeed an escape
.

In the darkness Madeline could not see how many escorts her party was to have
.
She heard low voices, the champing of bits and thumping of hoofs, and she recognized Stewart when he led up Majesty for her to mount
.
Then came a pattering of soft feet and the whining of dogs
.
Cold noses touched her hands, and she saw the long, gray, shaggy shapes of her pack of Russian wolf-hounds
.
That Stewart meant to let them go with her was indicative of how he studied her pleasure
.
She loved to be out with the hounds and her horse
.

Stewart led Majesty out into the darkness past a line of mounted horses
.

"Guess we're ready?" he said
.
"I'll make the count
.
" He went back along the line, and on the return Madeline heard him say several times, "Now, everybody ride close to the horse in front, and keep quiet till daylight
.
"Then the snorting and pounding of the big black horse in front of her told Madeline that Stewart had mounted
.

"All right, we're off," he called
.

Madeline lifted Majesty's bridle and let the roan go
.
There was a crack and crunch of gravel, fire struck from stone, a low whinny, a snort, and then steady, short, clip-clop of iron hoofs on hard ground
.
Madeline could just discern Stewart and his black outlined in shadowy gray before her
.
Yet they were almost within touching distance
.
Once or twice one of the huge stag-hounds leaped up at her and whined joyously
.
A thick belt of darkness lay low, and seemed to thin out above to a gray fog, through which a few wan stars showed
.
It was altogether an unusual departure from the ranch; and Madeline, always susceptible even to ordinary incident that promised well, now found herself thrillingly sensitive to the soft beat of hoofs, the feel of cool, moist air, the dim sight of Stewart's dark figure
.
The caution, the early start before dawn, the enforced silence-these lent the occasion all that was needful to make it stirring
.

Majesty plunged into a gully, where sand and rough going made Madeline stop romancing to attend to riding
.
In the darkness Stewart was not so easy to keep close to even on smooth trails, and now she had to be watchfully attentive to do it
.
Then followed a long march through dragging sand
.
Meantime the blackness gradually changed to gray
.
At length Majesty climbed out of the wash, and once more his iron shoes rang on stone
.
He began to climb
.
The figure of Stewart and his horse loomed more distinctly in Madeline's sight
.
Bending over, she tried to see the trail, but could not
.
She wondered how Stewart could follow a trail in the dark
.
His eyes must be as piercing as they sometimes looked
.
Over her shoulder Madeline could not see the horse behind her, but she heard him
.

As Majesty climbed steadily Madeline saw the gray darkness grow opaque, change and lighten, lose its substance, and yield the grotesque shapes of yucca and ocotillo
.
Dawn was about to break
.
Madeline imagined she was facing east, still she saw no brightening of sky
.
All at once, to her surprise, Stewart and his powerful horse stood clear in her sight
.
She saw the characteristic rock and cactus and brush that covered the foothills
.
The trail was old and seldom used, and it zigzagged and turned and twisted
.
Looking back, she saw the short, squat figure of Monty Price humped over his saddle
.
Monty's face was hidden under his sombrero
.
Behind him rode Dorothy Coombs, and next loomed up the lofty form of Nick Steele
.
Madeline and the members of her party were riding between cowboy escorts
.

Bright daylight came, and Madeline saw the trail was leading up through foothills
.
It led in a round-about way through shallow gullies full of stone and brush washed down by floods
.
At every turn now Madeline expected to come upon water and the waiting pack-train
.
But time passed, and miles of climbing, and no water or horses were met
.
Expectation in Madeline gave place to desire; she was hungry
.

Presently Stewart's horse went splashing into a shallow pool
.
Beyond that damp places in the sand showed here and there, and again more water in rocky pockets
.
Stewart kept on
.
It was eight o'clock by Madeline's watch when, upon turning into a wide hollow, she saw horses grazing on spare grass, a great pile of canvas-covered bundles, and a fire round which cowboys and two Mexican women were busy
.

Madeline sat her horse and reviewed her followers as they rode up single file
.
Her guests were in merry mood, and they all talked at once
.

"Breakfast-and rustle," called out Stewart, without ceremony
.

"No need to tell me to rustle," said Helen
.
"I am simply ravenous
.
This air makes me hungry
.
"

For that matter, Madeline observed Helen did not show any marked contrast to the others
.
The hurry order, however, did not interfere with the meal being somewhat in the nature of a picnic
.
While they ate and talked and laughed the cowboys were packing horses and burros and throwing the diamond-hitch, a procedure so interesting to Castleton that he got up with coffee-cup in hand and tramped from one place to another
.

"Heard of that diamond-hitch-up," he observed to a cowboy
.
"Bally nice little job!"

As soon as the pack-train was in readiness Stewart started it off in the lead to break trail
.
A heavy growth of shrub interspersed with rock and cactus covered the slopes; and now all the trail appeared to be uphill
.
It was not a question of comfort for Madeline and her party, for comfort was impossible; it was a matter of making the travel possible for him
.
Florence wore corduroy breeches and high-top boots, and the advantage of this masculine garb was at once in evidence
.
The riding-habits of the other ladies suffered considerably from the sharp spikes
.
It took all Madeline's watchfulness to save her horse's legs, to pick the best bits of open ground, to make cut-offs from the trail, and to protect herself from outreaching thorny branches, so that the time sped by without her knowing it
.
The pack-train forged ahead, and the trailing couples grew farther apart
.
At noon they got out of the foothills to face the real ascent of the mountains
.
The sun beat down hot
.
There was little breeze, and the dust rose thick and hung in a pall
.
The view was restricted, and what scenery lay open to the eye was dreary and drab, a barren monotony of slow-mounting slopes ridged by rocky canons
.

Once Stewart waited for Madeline, and as she came up he said:

"We're going to have a storm
.
"

"That will be a relief
.
It's so hot and dusty," replied Madeline
.

"Shall I call a halt and make camp?"

"Here?Oh no!What do you think best?"

"Well, if we have a good healthy thunder-storm it will be something new for your friends
.
I think we'd be wise to keep on the go
.
There's no place to make a good camp
.
The wind would blow us off this slope if the rain didn't wash us off
.
It'll take all-day travel to reach a good camp-site, and I don't promise that
.
We're making slow time
.
If it rains, let it rain
.
The pack outfit is well covered
.
We will have to get wet
.
"