Miner's Daughter

by Duncan, Alice

  Her Mr. Ewing? Mari didn’t feel up to asking. Instead, she said, “How kind of them both. But it’s too far for Judy to walk, Mrs. Nelson. I don’t want her to have to—”

  Mrs. Nelson cut her off with a laugh in mid-protest. “Don’t be silly, Mari. There’s nothing the least bit shabby about your Mr. Ewing. He’s hired a man to drive her there in the morning and in the evening, so it won’t take hardly any time at all, and you can be sure your place is secure and your chickens are fed.”

  “How . . . how nice of them both,” Mari murmured, too dazed to think of anything more cogent to say.

  Mrs. Nelson patted her hand. “Don’t be silly, girl. You know we’d have taken care of you even without Mr. Ewing’s money, but it’s nice to know he cares so much” And with a wink, Mrs. Nelson left Mari to her fried chicken, which was delicious.

  Mari hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she recalled she hadn’t eaten a bite since breakfast, and it was now getting on toward four in the afternoon. Blast it, where was Tony?

  Tiny, smelling chicken, awoke from his drug-induced slumber and slowly staggered to his feet. Eyeing him critically, Mari decided it was a good thing he had four of them, or he’d never be able to stand. She pulled the meat from a leg bone. “Here, boy, this isn’t enough, but maybe it’ll keep your tummy from growling until we can get some more food for you.”

  “What’s going on in here?” an imperious voice demanded from the doorway.

  Looking up from her plate, Mari beheld Tony. Instantly her appetite fled, her heart raced, and the blood began pounding in her veins. “Tony.”

  He stomped toward her. “Why are you giving Tiny your dinner? Are you sick? Aren’t you hungry? Do you want something else? Do you feel queasy?”

  “Hold on there, Tony,” she pleaded. “I only gave Tiny a little chicken meat because he said he was hungry.” Interpreting the look on Tony’s face and shooting a glance at her dog, she amended, “That is, he looked hungry.” She didn’t expect anyone else to understand the communication extant between herself and Tiny, although it existed.

  “Well, stop it,” Tony commanded her. “I’ll get something for Tiny to eat.”

  Before Mari could voice approval or her thanks, he was gone. She sighed. “Gee whiz, Tiny, I really need to talk to him.” She heard the thump of Tiny’s tail on the floor. “Oh, all right, I’m glad he went to get you some food first.” She gave her dog a mock frown. “I don’t want you eating all of my dinner.”

  Tony came back pretty soon with a big bowl overflowing with scraps for Tiny. “Here. This ought to do the beast.”

  Although she didn’t approve of people calling her dog a beast, Mari thanked him.

  So did Tiny, although he didn’t do so in words.

  As soon as Tony had straightened from putting the bowl on the floor, Mari said, “Tony, we have to talk. I need to ask you something.”

  “Not until after you’ve finished with your meal. You have to keep your strength up, Mari. You’ve been through an ordeal.”

  “Yes, yes, I know, but I still need to talk to you.”

  “You’re not going to do it now. I’m going to talk to you while you eat.”

  She sighed but knew it would be useless to argue. It’s probably because he’s so darned rich, she thought sourly. He’s not used to anybody doing anything unless he gives his approval first.

  Still, she was very hungry, so she capitulated without argument. As she ate fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and sliced tomatoes, Tony talked.

  “It was my father,” he started out in his blunt way. “He said he has no faith in the pictures, but he figured he might as well make some money from them. His idea, however, was to earn it on the shady side, the bastard.”

  Tony’s entire monologue was peppered with criticisms of his father. Mari didn’t mind, since she agreed with him.

  He went on to explain the deal Maurice had struck with some business partners on the West Coast, and how he’d paid Sidney and Clifford an enormous sum of money to sabotage the production. It was all sort of interesting, although Mari still itched to ask him what he’d meant by his comments earlier in the day.

  When, however, he went on to say, “I took some of the rocks that were dislodged to an assayer in town today, Mari,” she looked up from her chicken bones and gazed at him curiously.

  “Why? Don’t tell me you think there’s really ore down there?”

  His brow remained furrowed, as if he were still laboring under strong emotions. “I don’t know. I’ve studied a lot about mining, you know.”

  “I remember you said you studied mining engineer.”

  “Right. Well . . . Let’s just say I have a suspicion.”

  “A suspicion? About what?”

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  Mari wasn’t up to entertaining mysteries today. She snapped, “Just remember that my contract states any ore discovered in the making of this picture is mine.” She thought of something. “And don’t think that you can get out of it by saying it wasn’t discovered in the making of the picture, but rather in the sabotaging of it, either, because it won’t wash.”

  For the first time in what seemed like forever, Tony grinned. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t try to cheat you.”

  “Humph. It’s a good thing.” She was finished with her chicken and potatoes and was ready to start in on the apple pie when Tony’s next words made her freeze with her fork halfway to her lips.

  “Anyhow, I think California has community property laws, so what’s yours will be mine and what’s mine will be yours, and it won’t matter who started out owning the Marigold Mine “

  She blinked and slowly replaced her fork on her dessert plate. After clearing her throat, she said, “Um, I beg your pardon?”

  His eyebrows lifted. “What? I only mentioned California’s community property laws.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Why, it means that married couples have an equal right to property owned during marriage.”

  Mari glanced around the room. “Um, I don’t see any married folks in here, Tony.”

  His smiled made her heart hitch. “Maybe not now, but there soon will be.”

  “Wh-what do you mean?”

  She jumped and almost spilled her dinnerware when he bounded out of his chair and fell to one knee in front of her. Even Tiny was rattled. He uttered a short whimper and slid sideways on the rug.

  Tony took up the hand that had lately held her fork and lifted it to his lips. “Mari, I’ve been meaning to ask you this for what seems like a lifetime now, but something always interrupted.” He paused and sniffed. “Yum, smells like chicken.”

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “I want you to marry me, Mari. I want you to be my wife. I want you and Tiny to live with me here in Southern California.” He grimaced. “In Mojave Wells, if you must, although I’m going to insist on building a house. I’ll be damned if I’ll live in a one-room cabin.”

  “You-you want to marry me? Me?” She pointed to her chest with a shaky finger.

  “You bet. You’re the only woman I’ve ever met whom I can even conceive of marrying.”

  “My God.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  She nodded. “Yes. It’s a yes.”

  In one fluid movement, Tony removed the tray from Mari’s lap and set it on the floor. Then he joined her on the overstuffed chair, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her as if there were no tomorrow. Mari didn’t care if there wasn’t one. This moment would last her forever.

  Tiny ate her pie.

  Epilogue

  Filming on Lucky Strike was delayed for a week while sets were redecorated so Mari could sit as she played her remaining scenes, and her condition could be hidden from the camera’s inhuman eye.

  Because she refused to stay in Tony Ewing’s hotel room with him as a single lady, the minister of Mari’s church, Mr. Grubfield, performed a marriage ceremony in th
e large parlor of the Mojave Inn. Considering the shortness of the time folks had between the announcement and the ceremony—a day—Mrs. Nelson, Judy, and the rest of Mari’s friends in Mojave Wells did a splendid job of decorating. Mrs. Nelson even made a three-tiered wedding cake. It tilted slightly to one side, and the decorations were lovely.

  That night, in spite of Mari’s damaged foot, Tony gave her another lesson in the art of lovemaking. An apt and ingenious student, Mari then taught Tony some very creative ways to achieve glorious satisfaction in unusual positions (said positions made necessary by the state of her health).

  Tiny improved daily, much to Mari’s delight. The Nelsons and Tony tolerated the monster dog’s presence in their lives with more grumpiness than they felt. Tiny was too lovable to make enemies.

  Now that the problem of who was behind the acts of vandalism was solved, Martin fretted for approximately one and a half days. He was worried about money to finish the project now that Maurice Ewing had been revealed as a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Although he still didn’t share Martin’s love of the moving pictures, Tony offered his own funds. With a grim smile, he told Martin not to worry. Tony aimed to make absolutely sure his father paid eventually for all the harm he’d done, both to Peerless and to Mari.

  The assayer’s report on the Marigold Mine revealed a rich vein of borax. Tony invested more of his money in repairing and reviving the mine. Because he could afford to hire sufficient men and machinery, the Marigold Mine was soon one of the most profitable borax mines in the San Bernardino area

  Although Tony had meant it when he’d assured Mari he’d live in Mojave Wells if she wanted to, Mari decided she and Tiny would enjoy life more if they had more green around them. Therefore, the Ewings built a magnificent estate on Orange Grove Boulevard in Pasadena, where the Ewing clan flourished.

  It became more and more difficult to avoid movie people as more of them flooded from the East Coast to the West. Bowing to the inevitable, Tony invested heavily in the Peerless Studio, which also flourished. Martin Tafft was a frequent visitor to the Ewing estate, and stood godfather to the first Ewing offspring, a little boy whom they named Theodore, after Mr. Roosevelt.

  The only contact Tony ever had with his father again was via the courts. Maurice Ewing paid heavily for his underhanded dealings with Peerless although, naturally, he was too rich ever to go to prison.

  Ten years after they’d met, Tony and Mari stood on the massive front porch of their estate and gazed out upon acres of rolling green, dotted here and there with frolicking children and Great Danes.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer horses, Mari?”

  It was an old argument, and not a heated one. In truth, it had become a family joke.

  “Not on your life,” Mari told him, as she always did. “Horses are too darned big.”

  “Right.”

  It didn’t matter anyway, since Tiny and his kin were happy to allow the little Ewing children to ride on their backs.

  Tony had never been happier.

  Mari, whose life had been rough from the beginning, still had trouble believing in her luck. When she glanced from her husband’s beloved profile to her children shrieking with delight on the green, green grass of her home, she decided it wasn’t luck.

  Her father’s dream had finally paid off.