The Ranch Girls and Their Great Adventure

by Margaret Vandercook

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE BREAK

  BUT Frank did give careful consideration to what Frieda had said to him.Her words came as a kind of revelation. Suddenly he began to appreciatewhat it would mean to lose Jack, though of course there was nopossibility of such a thing. She was one of the most loyal persons inthe world and they had only had a difference of opinion.

  Yet Frank decided that it would be best to let bygones be bygones and tomention the fact to Jack at the first possible opportunity.

  But somehow he seemed to have to wait for the opportunity to arrive;certainly his wife did nothing to help him.

  One night, coming home at the usual hour, Frank discovered that Jack wasnot there. She had gone out a little before lunch on some errand, asOlive and Frieda supposed, but leaving no word except that they were notto wait luncheon for her.

  Frieda and Olive, Frank found, were both a little uneasy. He laughed atthe idea. Jack had a great many things to attend to in the neighborhoodand knew everybody, while everybody knew her.

  Afterwards, he went upstairs to the nursery and stayed half an hourwatching Vive and Jimmie being put to bed. When he came down to thelibrary to read, twilight was falling. But instead of reading Frankfound himself turning over the pages of the magazines, gazing at them,and not knowing a word of their contents.

  In a few moments it would be dinner time.

  He got up and walked nervously up and down the room.

  If Jack did not come in by dinner or send a message what would it bewise to do?

  A few moments later he telephoned two or three places where he thoughtJack might have remained later than she realized. But she had not beenat any one of the houses during the day, and naturally Frank did notwish to ask too many questions, since she might return home at anymoment. It would then appear absurd to have started false rumors, or tohave created anxiety among their friends.

  When the butler came in to announce dinner, Lord Kent explained thatLady Kent was not yet at home and that dinner be kept waiting foranother half an hour.

  Soon after Frieda joined him.

  "I know I am silly, Frank," she confessed, "but I am worried. If Jackhad gone out on horseback, one might understand that she could havegotten some distance away. But she did not ride, she walked, and couldnot have continued walking since before noon."

  "You are an infant, Frieda," Frank remarked. "Of course Jack has beenpaying visits and has stayed too long. But perhaps I had best go andlook for her, unless she has found a friend to act as an escort it istoo late for her to be out alone."

  "But where are you going to look?" Frieda questioned. And either herbrother-in-law did not hear her, or preferred to pretend he did not,since he made no reply.

  The fact of the matter was he had no plan. He thought it was ratherabsurd for him to look at all, but had suddenly been overtaken with asense of uneasiness, a strange foreboding of disaster. We all yield tothese sensations now and then, but as they were not usual with Lord Kenthe was the more uncomfortable.

  He could not even decide whether it would be wiser for him to ride or towalk, but concluded he had best ride, in order to cover a greaterdistance in a shorter time.

  He searched very carefully for Jack down the long road which divided theestate. And naturally he remembered the other evening, not so very manymonths ago, when he had ridden down this same avenue peering through therain for her and Captain MacDonnell. Then he had discovered both of themwith but little difficulty.

  Tonight Frank wished that he felt sure Jack had someone with her to takecare of her, as she had on that other evening. He would not then havefelt so ridiculously worried.

  "Poor Bryan, one did not like to allow oneself to think of him too oftenthese days, yet he must be brought back home as soon as possible," Frankthought. Some time ago he had decided that when the time came he wouldhimself go for Bryan. Perhaps this would be partly an act of expiation,although Lord Kent had not said this to himself, or to his wife.

  This evening he rode directly into the village, but although it was onlya little after eight o'clock, Granchester had long practiced thedaylight saving habit, not because of the war, but because of a fixedhabit of early sleep and early rising. There were only two or threescattered lights in the little stone houses and only a few old menoutdoors talking together in front of a closed public house.

  Nevertheless Frank rode up to the home of Frieda's old friend anddismounted, for he had known Mrs. Huggins many long years. She wasaccepted by everybody as a kind of unprinted village newspaper. If Jackhad been in Granchester during the afternoon, Mrs. Huggins would knowjust where she had been and what she had done.

  The old woman's light was out, but a moment after his knocking sheopened her door. In her hand she held a lamp and her old eyes shonethrough the half darkness.

  She was probably excited by the idea that someone had come to confide apiece of news to her.

  However, she had heard nothing of Lady Kent's having been in the villageduring the day, and was in fact sure she had not been there.

  When Lord Kent went away, however, she still seemed to think he hadbrought her news.

  "There is trouble in the big house, also," she said to herself, waggingher old head. "Funny how when trouble of one kind gets loosed in theworld, so many other kinds follow it." Even after she had gone back tobed she still kept thinking of Kent House.

  Later, just before he was leaving Granchester, Frank telephoned to hishome.

  Frieda came to the telephone to say that no word had yet come from hersister.

  Nevertheless Lord Kent could not make up his mind to ask for aid in hissearch. He had a curious antipathy toward it, as if Jack herself wouldnot like this, as if in some way it might lead to a revelation theywould not wish others to share.

  This was what made all his efforts so difficult. For each added momenthe was becoming more and more worried, and yet having to pretend thatJack's failure to return home, her failure to send any word of herwhereabouts, was the most casual thing in the world.

  There were several places belonging to friends and not far from thevillage. Lord Kent stopped by at each place for a few moments, as if hewere making an ordinary visit, but of course to find out if Jack hadcalled during the day. Apparently no one of her friends had seen her.

  At Captain MacDonnell's home, Frank inquired for the housekeeper. Mrs.Naxie was still in charge and she and Frank were old friends. She hadbeen with Captain MacDonnell's uncle years before when he and Bryan wereboth little boys.

  Lord Kent was not ashamed to reveal his anxiety to Mrs. Naxie, and sheat least had a little information for him, the first he had secured.

  "Yes, Lady Kent had stopped by a little before tea time and had seemedtired. She explained that she had eaten no lunch, but enjoyed her tea,and then started away again. Mrs. Naxie was under the impression sheintended going directly home.

  "There was nothing more for him to do but to go home also," Frank thenconcluded. If Jack had not returned and nothing was known of her, hemust throw away his scruples and ask for help.

  It was now fully night and the sky filled with high, sweet stars.

  Although he yearned to be at home at once, still Frank searched all theroads, stared behind the tall hedges, and now and then in the darknesscalled his wife's name. Nevertheless he continued to assure himself thathe was behaving like a fool and there was no real reason for him to feelso alarmed. He had always been ridiculously nervous about Jack andalways before now she had laughed at him.

  It was not until he had almost reached the beginning of his own landthat Frank was finally honest with himself. He had fought againstconfessing the fact that he was to blame every moment since he firstbegan to grow uneasy about Jack. Had they been good friends these pastfew weeks he knew he would not have been half so miserable. Whether hehad been right or wrong, he had realized that Jack had been anxious tomake peace and he had repulsed her. He would wait for no comfortableopportunity now, as soon as he found his wife, they must be reconciled.
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  Near the edge of Kent Park, where the land dipped, there was a smallstream, deep in some places, and yet hardly to be dignified by the titleof river.

  Yielding to an impulse Frank got off his horse here and walked slowlyalong the bank. The stream was so narrow he could see almost equallywell on the farther side.

  The trees and underbrush made shadows on the surface where the water wasdeepest.

  Suddenly Frank thought he saw one of the slender, young birches move astep toward him. The next he heard Jack's voice say:

  "Frank, is that you?"

  Then she came slowly toward him.

  The strange fact was that she did not appear surprised, nor did shebegin by offering any explanation of her own strange behavior, nor whyshe should be found at such an hour in such a place.

  "Sit down for a little while will you please, Frank? The ground is notparticularly damp in some places, I have been sitting here a long time."

  Frank made no reply except to do what she liked. He knew that somethinghad happened which was of tremendous seriousness to Jack. If that weretrue, then whatever it was, was equally so to him.

  "You are not ill, are you, dear?" he inquired, after he had let go hisbridle and taken a seat beside his wife. His horse would only wanderabout near by.

  Jack shook her head.

  "I was dizzy and very tired a little while ago, I don't know just howlong. I sat down here to rest and fell asleep for a time. I am quite allright now." And indeed Jack was now speaking in a natural voice. Onemust remember it was not so unusual for her, as it would be with mostother girls and women, to take her problems outdoors when she wished tosolve them.

  "There is something I want to say to you, Frank. I have been making upmy mind to speak of it for some time. This afternoon I knew I had todecide. I went off for a long walk and now I have decided."

  Jack was sitting very still a few feet away from her husband. He nowmoved over and put his arm about her, but though she made no movement toresent it, she showed no sign of pleasure or of yielding.

  "I want to go home, Frank?" she continued.

  And for an instant believing she meant Kent House, Frank started torise. The next he understood his mistake.

  "I mean I want to go back to the Rainbow ranch to see Jim and Ruth andJean, but Jim most of all," she added, this time with a little break inher usually steady voice.

  "Please don't answer, Frank, until I have explained to you a littlebetter. I know it seems horrid to leave you alone and to take the babiesaway, when you are so worn out with your work and so sad over all thewretched tragedy of the war. You will miss the babies, even if you willnot particularly miss me. Still I'll have to go, Frank. I can't live onwith you not forgiving, not caring for me any more. I won't stay longunless you wish it and I'll come back whenever you send for me. But Imust go; it has seemed to me lately as if I could not breathe."

  Jack turned her face directly to her husband, and although it was toodark to see it distinctly, he could catch the dim outline.

  "You see until lately I never dreamed that when things came to a crisis,to a question of right, to a question of my judgment, or my conscience,you would not be willing to let me do as I decided and thought best. Iknew you liked me to follow your way in little things and I never mindedmost times. Often I was glad to do as you wished and when I didn't agreeto your way, I never considered the fact seriously one way or the other.But lately I have seen that if we go on living together, I have got tobe a coward, a kind of traitor to myself by always appearing to agreewith you, or else live with you and have you angry and dissatisfied withme. I cannot bear either. Marriage does not mean that to me, Frank. Ihave to get away for a little while to see if I can find out what Ishould do."

  There was no sign of anger in Jack's manner, if she had been feelingangry lately, and of course she had being perfectly human, her anger haddisappeared tonight during the long hours she had been thinking thingsout alone.

  Sitting beside his wife, suddenly as she finished speaking Frankrecalled something Frieda had lately said to him. Perhaps Frieda hadmore brains than her family and friends realized. However, what she hadsaid was that whenever she was angry or wounded, her sister Jack was aptto go off to herself and then do something unexpected.

  Surely his wife's request tonight was wholly unexpected.

  But Frank only answered, not revealing what he felt, nor what heintended.

  "I think this is a pretty severe punishment, Jack, if you think I amunfair. But you must let me take you home to Kent House now; Olive andFrieda are both dreadfully worried to know what has become of you."