CHAPTER XXI
"MY WAY'S FOR LOVE"
For Ruth and Jim Colter had spent a wonderful day together while Jackand Frank Kent were making their great discovery. They were findinganother of the world's great treasures which is not gold. Side by sidethey had ridden slowly over the ranch with its waving fields of ripenedgrass and its horses, sheep and cattle, sleek and fat and well contentwith the earth's bounty. They had counted the herds and inspected thesheep corrals, ordering new ones to be built before the coming ofwinter; they had discussed whether Ruth alone would be able to take Jackto New York to see the famous surgeon recommended by Peter Drummond, andthey had decided that Mr. Harmon must be given an answer in regard tohis purchase of a portion of Rainbow Ranch within the next few days. Hislease on the Lodge would end in a short time and already he seemed veryrestless and was insisting that urgent business called him back to NewYork.
Ruth was now able to ride horseback almost as well as the other ranchgirls, although she could never be quite so fearless, since her traininghad come later in life. But to-day she and her companion laughinglyrecalled her famous arrival at Wolfville not a year before and herterrible ten-mile ride home to Rainbow Lodge. Ruth rememberedthen--though she did not speak of it--how Jim's strength had upheld andcomforted her and brought her safely to her new home.
At noon, hungry and happy, Jim and Ruth had eaten their luncheon seatedopposite each other on the grass with two napkins spread between them,drinking their cold coffee out of bottles, like a couple of schoolchildren on a picnic.
Now it was almost sunset and the man and woman were riding slowly home.Their backs were to the far-off line of hills, and beyond them the levelprairies seemed to stretch on and on until they dipped and melted awayat the uttermost rim of the earth. Above, the clouds floated, tintedlike soap bubbles against a skyey background of pale rose and blue, forthe sun was sinking without a display of gaudy colors upon the horizon,that marked this waning season of the year.
Ruth was gazing at the sunset, wondering if Jack were not a littlebetter, when a low laugh from her companion surprised her and jarred onher peaceful mood. She turned on him reproachfully, but found nothing inJim Colter's expression that spoke of laughter. His strong bronze facewas so serious and his lips so grave that the girl with him was suddenlystill and frightened. For many weeks she had thought this moment mightbe approaching, and yet, now it had come, she was wholly unprepared.
"I was only thinking of how young you look in that riding habit, MissRuth," Jim said simply. "I laughed because I remembered I thought youwould be an old maid of fifty when you first came out to the ranch.Sometimes it seems years since the day you arrived, and then again onlya few weeks. Are you sure you like living on a ranch now? You know youplumb hated it when you first came to Wyoming," he said boyishly.
Ruth smiled and nodded, wondering if she were relieved or disappointed.One could always count on Jim's not doing or saying the thing expectedof him. After all, the moment she anticipated was not at hand.
"Of course I dearly love living on the ranch, Mr. Jim. But why do youask me?" she answered.
"Because I love you, Ruth," Jim returned as quietly as though he had notbeen trying to speak the three magic words for months. "And I am aranchman and don't know anything else. I don't understand a whole lotabout women, but I believe they ought to like the kind of life a man hasto offer before they tie up with him. If you hadn't come to like livingout here I never would have told you I loved you, though it had eaten myheart out to keep silent. But you do care for the life now, Ruth,and--do you think you can care for me?"
The two horses were walking slowly side by side, and Jim put out a bigwarm hand and closed it slowly over Ruth's small cold ones which stillheld her reins. "I am only an overseer, and haven't much money oreducation to offer you, and I know how much these things count, but Iwill do my best for you and I do come of good people, dear, and itwasn't their fault I never learned more----" Jim added at last,hesitating as though even this slight reference to his past was tornfrom him against his will.
The woman made no answer, and for a little while longer they rode on.
"Can't you tell me, Ruth?" Jim urged gently.
Ruth had not spoken, because she had not known what she wished to say.Before she came out west Ruth Drew thought she hated men and had made upher mind never to marry. Her brother was selfish and idle, her fatherhad been close and mean, and Ruth knew so little of other men shethought them all alike, capable of ugly deeds that women never dreamedof. Yet somehow Jim seemed different. Ruth was twenty-eight, which isnot old as women marry nowadays; but everything depends on the point ofview, and for a long time Ruth had thought she was to be an old maid.
"I am very fond of you, Mr. Jim, but I don't know that I love you," sheanswered nervously, in a small voice as cold and aloof as in the earlydays of her acquaintance with Jim.
But this time Jim laughed. "Don't be afraid of yourself, Ruth, dear," hepleaded, "and don't go back to Vermont to think how you felt when youlived there. I don't want you to be fond of me. You are fond of our olddog, Shep. I want you to love me, Ruth, well enough to go through thickand thin with me, to believe in me and fight for me to the last drop. Weare not little people, dear, and I don't want little loving. Love is thebiggest thing about us and I want all there is in it from you."
If Jim had leaned over at this moment and put his arm about Ruth, takingher answer for granted he would have saved her and himself much sorrow,for Ruth had one of those uncomfortable New England consciences whichwould not let her accept the gift of happiness without days ofquestioning and unrest.
Ruth turned toward her lover, with her eyes full of uncertain tears."Really I don't know whether I love you in the big way, Mr. Jim," shefaltered. "Will you let me wait a little while to find out?"
Poor Ruth--she knew that when she was weary she wanted Jim Colter'sstrength to rest upon, that when she was sorrowful she wanted hissympathy to comfort her, and that when she was happy she wished him tobe the sharer in her joys; yet she did not understand that this trinityof simple emotions meant the big human mystery of love.
"Of course you may have all the time you need, Ruth," Jim replied, notshowing his disappointment. "You may have all my life if it takes youthat long to find out. But it would be easier for us both if you decidethis week. 'Tain't fair for a man to expect a woman to say her yes or noright off at the first asking. He has had all the time beforehand todecide that he wants her to be his wife, but she ain't supposed to thinkof him as a husband until he has said the word. At least, that is thekind of woman you are, Ruth, and there are plenty like you. I suppose,though, there are some that do a little previous deciding before themale has got right down to the point." Jim was patting Ruth's handssoftly, his eyes full of a new content and his face of strength anddignity. Not having a New England conscience he did not feel itnecessary to worry, because he could see Ruth cared, and he was willingto wait for the rest.
They were not talking, so the sound of two voices startled them. Througha small clump of evergreen trees, not far from the trail along whichthey were riding, the smoke of a camp-fire rose in slow circles. Ayoung woman was seated on the ground nursing a baby, and a man and oldgypsy woman were scolding at each other.
"It's that fellow, Joe Dawson. I have been having an eye open for himall day," Jim announced curtly, with the sudden sternness in his faceand manner that made him feared even by the people who knew him mostintimately. "I have been wanting to tell him to clear off this ranch. Nomatter what business Harmon has with him, he sha'n't stay about here,now you and the girls have come home."
Jim was riding over toward the gypsies, but Joe had seen him and comeforward.
"Good evening," he remarked. "Pleasant evening for a ride."
Jim frowned and wasted no words.
"Glad I came across you, Dawson," he returned. "I want you to get offthis ranch. I'll give you two days if it takes that much time, but nolonger. I told you I wasn't going to have you hanging about here in
theearly part of the summer, but I presume you have been doing some workfor Mr. Harmon, though I never heard of your doing any honest work inyour life."
"Oh, no, I haven't reformed to the extent of some people," Gypsy Joeremarked sarcastically. "At least I haven't yet taken to playing thepart of 'gardeen' to a parcel of young girls. But look here, John, I canget ugly same as other folks, and it ain't any the less true for beingan old saying, 'you had better let sleeping dogs lie.' I can wake up andbite; and I've an idea where it would hurt you the most."
Ruth was walking her horse up and down not far away, trying not to hearwhat the two men were saying, but they were so angry that their voicescarried for some distance on the quiet evening air.
"Get off the Rainbow Ranch, Joe Dawson, or you will be put off," Jimreplied roughly, and turned and rode back to Ruth.
The man laughed insolently. "Not if I don't choose to leave, JohnCarter," he halloed. "You've made the mistake of your life in not makingfriends with me again, for I can get even with you in more ways thanone, and I don't know but that I'll try."
These were the words Ruth thought she heard, but she gave them littleheed beyond wondering idly why the impudent tramp called Jim by thewrong name.
These events in the lives of Ruth Drew and Jim Colter took place on thesame day that Jack and Frank Kent had their experience by the waters ofRainbow Creek. They had been at home several hours when Frank Kentappeared to disclose the startling news of the discovery of golddeposits on the ranch. It was not until then that Jim Colter guessed whyMr. Harmon had wished to purchase all or a portion of the Rainbow Ranchbefore its owners could find out the secret of their hidden wealth, andfor this same reason had kept the first discoverer of the gold, "GypsyJoe," lurking about the ranch all summer and had refused to give up theLodge to the Ralston girls and let them come home when they wished.