"He feels unsure of himself around Owen."
"Why?"
"Owen's so big and handsome and good at everything he does, he makes William feel insignificant. I've tried to tell William everybody admires him as a businessman, even Owen, but he thinks you broke your engagement because Owen makes him look dull."
"We never had an engagement to break," Hetta said. "Besides, he knows good and well that I ..." She broke off. The truth hit her all at once. "I know what's wrong! You're in love with William yourself."
With a terrible wail, Ida threw herself onto the bed, sobbing.
Chapter Twenty-five
"It's all right," Hetta said to Ida for the twenty-first time. "I don't love William."
"But he was your fiance," Ida wailed. "I'm your best friend. And I tried to steal him from you. I should be shot."
"You've done everything you could to throw us together. That ought to prove to you we're not right for each other."
"But William still talks about you."
"Would you let him in the door if he came courting you?"
"Of course not. What kind of friend do you think I am?" With that, she let out another wail. "I'm no friend. I'm a cheater, a double-crosser, a snake in your bosom."
The image nearly made Hetta giggle. "You're just a beautiful young woman who's fallen in love for the first time in her life."
Ida sat up, her eyes filled with tears. "I tried not to like him. I told myself I was memorizing his good points so I could convince you to marry him."
"You're both just as foolish as I was," Hetta said. "William jabbering about me so he could come sit with you, you letting him because you felt guilty about liking him."
"I think it's very honorable of him."
"What good does it do to be stuffed full of honor if you're miserable? I nearly married William for the wrong reasons. Now you're not marrying him for the wrong reason."
"William has never even hinted at marriage."
"Then it's up to you to put on your prettiest dress, use some of your cosmetics, and be so beautiful, charming, and absolutely adorable, he won't be able to help himself."
"Do you really think he's been coming here to see me? He really does talk about you."
"I wouldn't be surprised if William liked you best from the first, that he only paid attention to me because he thought he'd never attract someone as beautiful as you. Tonight you have to let William know it's all right to start courting you."
"I couldn't do that."
"Well, I can, so that's taken care of. Now what are you going to wear?"
"Don't you feel just a little upset about this?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm going to wear that beautiful dress you bought me and use some of your cosmetics. I intend to convince a certain man he has a right to be loved."
"I'm not going," Owen told Ben at the hotel.
"Hetta won't like it."
"She probably won't even know. Within fifteen minutes she'll have a dozen men fighting to dance with her."
Hetta had looked terrific when she came down to supper. She was wearing an ordinary brown gingham dress, but everything about her seemed more alive, more vibrant, more exciting. She wasn't attractive in the fragile way Ida was. She looked strong and healthy. Happy. And fine. That was it. Fine.
It wasn't that she ignored him. On the contrary, she hadn't stopped telling him how much she appreciated what he'd done, how she could never have done it without him. It sounded as if she was getting ready to tell him he'd exhausted his usefulness, and it was time to move on. Maybe this was her idea of letting him down easy. If it was, it wasn't working.
He was taking the idea of leaving very hard.
"It's you she wants to dance with," Ben said.
"I don't believe in stretching things out. We both know it's time for me to leave."
"What have you got to do that's so important?"
None of it seemed important now, not even finding Laveau. "I've made promises I haven't kept."
"So you're going to keep other promises by breaking one to Hetta?"
"It won't matter. You saw how happy she was at supper. She didn't stop talking about the dance."
"She didn't stop talking about how much she appreciated what you'd done, how she couldn't have done it on her own."
"Hetta's indomitable. She'd have gotten it done."
"How about Myrl and me? Would we have gotten it done without you?"
Owen felt irritable. He didn't like people thanking him.
"Would we have put together the rustler watch without you?"
"You could have done all that without me," Owen said, beginning to be really irritated. "There's always a rough period after a war. It takes people time to settle again, but they do."
"And you'd know all about that, having survived so many wars yourself," Myrl said.
"Things don't always settle down by themselves," Ben said. "It takes people willing to stand up for what's right. I don't know why you didn't go home, but the whole town is glad you came here."
"I don't give a damn about the town." He hadn't meant to say that, but Ben was making him angry.
"But you give a lot of damns about Hetta."
"Everybody likes Hetta."
"Nobody likes her the way you do." Ben hobbled to a chair and sat down. "I don't know what it is about being in town, but as soon as I get here, I'm too weak to stand on this leg."
"Then get yourself a job on a ranch."
"I intend to as soon as you buy the ranch you've been talking about buying ever since you got here."
"That was a cover."
"Maybe, but I know you want one. I even know which one you want."
"How can you know when I don't?"
"You know, but you won't admit it. You want Hetta's ranch. And you want Hetta along with it."
Owen didn't know whether to be more dismayed that he'd finally admitted his feelings to himself or that they were so obvious Ben had picked up on them. He hoped Hetta hadn't.
"Hetta's a great woman, but I'm not the marrying kind."
"But you love Hetta."
"Like I said, she's a great woman."
"So you wouldn't want to make her unhappy."
"No."
Ben stood. "Then get dressed and go to that dance. I think she's in love with you."
"You're crazy."
"Maybe. But if I'm right, the worst thing you could do to her would be to disappear without a word. Maybe you're not the marrying kind, but if you don't let Hetta know how you feel about her, you'll hurt her more than anyone has in her life. If she knows you don't love her, it will hurt, but she'll get over it. If you go away without telling her, she'll always wonder."
"You really think she's in love with me?"
"Yeah. So does Myrl. Now I've got to be going. It takes me a lot longer to get all duded up than it used to."
The last thing Owen wanted to know was that Hetta loved him. He didn't trust his own feelings to remain true. They might change as soon as he found himself around another woman. They always had before. But knowing there was a possibility Hetta loved him changed everything.
He'd never allowed himself to think of a wife, home, or family. His family had been miserable, and he wanted no part of another. When loneliness threatened to overwhelm him, he'd channeled his energies into seduction. Later, the war and his hatred of Laveau had consumed most of his energies. But unbeknownst to him, the friendships of the war had given him the family he'd never had, a feeling of belonging he'd never known. It had engendered in him a need for companionship of the soul and spirit rather than just a union of the body. He'd never kidded himself that he was happy with his superficial existence, but he'd told himself it was all he could have. But now the possibility of more, slim as it was, was being held out to him. Could he resist reaching for it?
Falling in love had been the farthest thing from his mind when he came to Pinto Junction. He'd thought he was spending time with Hetta just t
o prove she'd been wrong about him. But somewhere along the line he started to like her. And the more he liked her, the more he wanted to help her. Then desire had complicated the picture still more.
Nothing had gone right since he'd come here. The best thing he could do was to leave as soon as possible. Ben and Myrl would soon forget him. It might take Hetta longer, but she wasn't the kind of woman to lose her heart to someone like Owen Wheeler.
Ben was wrong. It would be better for everyone if he just disappeared.
"Have you seen Owen?" Hetta asked Myrl.
The dance had been under way for nearly an hour. A string of partners, mostly young men too tongue-tied to say much, had kept her on the dance floor. Ida said she was so pretty she'd knocked what little sense they had out of their heads. Hetta knew there was only so much a pretty dress and cosmetics could accomplish, but apparently it was enough. Even William looked at her with new eyes.
"I haven't seen him since supper," Myrl said.
"Did he say when he'd get here?"
"Nope."
Even though he'd been at his most charming and entertaining during supper, she'd gotten the feeling he wasn't coming. She couldn't be around a man she loved for weeks on end and not learn to see the shifts in mood, the slightly too loud laugh, the smile that was too broad, the gaze that moved constantly. Most important of all, he hadn't eaten all his food. Owen wasn't a big eater, but he always ate every speck he put on his plate. Myrl kidded him that his plate was so clean it didn't need washing. She guessed that came from growing up poor.
"Would you go look for him?" she asked.
"If he's coming, he don't need my help," Myrl replied. "And if he ain't, I ain't going to change his mind."
Myrl was in a querulous mood. He wasn't drinking, either. Ben had been dancing with a young woman who seemed undeterred by his bad leg and shuffling gait. But Hetta had no trouble interpreting the glances he threw in her direction from time to time. He was worried, too.
"What's wrong with your friend?" Myrl asked Hetta. A nod of his head indicated Ida.
"She's not having a good time."
"Why? Every man in the place has stood in line to dance with her."
Except William.
"I can't explain without betraying a confidence."
"You can't betray what everybody knows," Myrl scoffed. "It's plain as the nose on a newborn calf, she's mooning over that fella you was mooning over a while back. Looks like he's stuck on her, too."
Hetta didn't know why she'd thought Ida's feelings could have remained secret when hers hadn't.
"Just look at them, staring at each other. The moment the other stares back, they turn away so fast it's got to scramble their brains. Won't have any sense at all if this keeps up much longer."
"Then I guess I'll have to do something about it." Hetta walked over to where Ida stood talking to two young men. "Please excuse us," she said. "I've got to talk to Ida." Hetta drew her into a corner. "What did you tell William? Why is he avoiding you?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"I mean you're looking at him like you're starving and he's the only food that can keep you alive. And he's doing the same."
"Now you're being ridiculous," Ida said. "But I suppose this is the way you talk around Owen."
"What I do around Owen isn't the point. William's crazy about you. Even Myrl has seen it."
Ida's expression turned to that of a hunted animal. "How can that old man know? I haven't looked at William all evening."
"Yes, you have, and people are noticing. What did you tell William to make him stay away?"
"I told him he had to do everything he could to win you back." With that, she clamped her mouth shut and started to go back to the men waiting for her. Hetta reached out and caught her arm.
"What else did you say?"
Ida looked mulish.
"Out with it. If you don't tell me, I'll corner William. And you know he can never keep his mouth shut."
"If you must know, I told him he had to stop coming to see me. People might think I was trying to steal him from you, and I'd never do anything like that even if I had to die an old maid. There. I hope you're happy."
"Why did you do something so stupid?"
"Because I won't steal him from you. I couldn't stand myself if I did."
"You're not stealing him. We've been through that already."
Ida turned and walked off. Hetta let her go because she understood that Ida was truly upset. It was up to Hetta to make sure this love-crossed couple got past their various inhibitions.
The musicians were turning up their instruments in preparation for the next dance. Hetta hurried over to William. "Dance with me," she said. "I've got to talk to you."
Hetta wondered why she'd never noticed that William was a terrible dancer. Neither of his feet seemed to know or care what the other was doing. Or where hers might be. He trod on her toes as readily as on the planks of the dance floor.
"I understand your house is finished," William said.
"We finished yesterday," Hetta said.
"People say it's just about the biggest house in Pinto Junction."
"That's not what I want to talk about."
"People are wondering why you built such a big place and where you got the money to pay for it."
"Let them. It'll give them something to talk about besides the war, the Yankees, and the rustlers. Now I--"
"There's been a lot of speculation about Owen staying out there."
"Stop blathering and listen to me."
"Ida has been worried sick about you."
"You finally got something half right. Ida has been worried sick, but not about me. She's so in love with you she can't see straight. And don't try to tell me you're not in love with her."
William came to an abrupt stop, his left foot planted squarely on the toes of her right foot.
"Don't stop dancing. And get off my foot before you break my toes."
William started dancing again, but his coordination was worse than ever. Hetta decided her feet wouldn't last long enough for her to convince him he had to take the initiative if he and Ida were to achieve happiness.
"Let's walk," she said.
Dozens of pairs of questioning eyes followed them as they left the dance floor.
"What makes you think Ida is in love with me?" William asked as soon as they were clear of the light coming from the lanterns suspended around the dance floor.
"She told me so."
William fell silent.
"You don't have to clam up. I don't want you to be in love with me. Ida's just horrified she's fallen in love with a man who's supposed to be in love with her best friend. I can't get it through her head that I don't love you and you don't love me. It's up to you to do that."
"I've been trying to tell her for the last month," William said. "But every time I try to talk about anything but you or business, she says it's time for me to leave."
"That's just guilt. What she needs is for you to convince her you're so in love with her, you can't live without her."
"She won't talk to me."
"For God's sake, William, be a man! You've got to pay her as much attention as you pay your business. Think of her as a business opportunity. She has reservations about whether it's in her best interest to be your partner, but you know it'll be the best thing that could happen to the two of you. Think of all the logical reasons why you'd be happy together, but don't forget to tell her you love her. That nothing else matters as long as she loves you."
"Do you really think that will work?"
It wouldn't work for her, but she figured it was the only way William was ever going to stop quivering in his boots. "You're a nice man, William. You'll take very good care of Ida."
"But she's so beautiful. And even my pa says I look like the hind end of a calf."
"She thinks you're very handsome."
"I'm not rich."
"You will be. Owen says you're the only one in this town with any bus
iness sense."
Hetta felt sorry for William. It was obvious he didn't have any better opinion of himself than she used to have of herself. On impulse, she kissed him on the lips. She laughed when he reacted as if he'd been shot.
"I bet nobody's ever kissed you before," she said.
He shook his head.
She hooked her arm in his and headed back to the dance floor. "Don't hesitate," she told him. "As soon as we get back, I want you to march right up to Ida," she said. "Don't wait for the next dance. Cut in."
"I can't do that."
She laughed. Why did some people fight so hard against what they wanted? "Of course you can. It's easy."
As soon as they reached the dance floor, she pushed him in Ida's direction. He hesitated only a moment before striding up to Ida and tapping her partner on the shoulder. Ida tried to protest, but William took her in his arms and proceeded to dance around the floor, systematically treading on all her toes.
Pleased with herself, Hetta turned, only to find herself face to face with Owen. Before the smile of welcome could curve her lips, his look of wild anger froze her.
"What in hell do you mean by painting yourself up like a whore?" he demanded.
Chapter Twenty-six
Owen knew he was kidding himself when he decided he couldn't leave without saying goodbye. He was really looking for a reason to stay. For more than an hour he'd remained in his hotel room staring at a bottle of whiskey, but whiskey couldn't help what ailed him.
He wouldn't say anything to her about falling in love with her, not when he couldn't be sure himself. No point mentioning something that might be infatuation, fascination, fantasy, intoxication. All were unstable states of mind that didn't endure. No, he'd just repeat that he had this duty to his friends which he couldn't ignore any longer. She didn't need him anymore. Once her steers went to market, she wouldn't need him ever again.
Seeing Hetta leave the dance floor with William shocked him. They were in earnest conversation, each absorbed in what the other was saying. He couldn't get close enough to hear what they were saying, but it was clear that Hetta was pressing William to do something. It was equally clear that William wanted to do it even though he was fearful.
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