“All right, Cody,” said Laurie as she started to gather wood for a fire.
Cody left, moved up stream until he found deer signs, and found a small grove of scrub oak to conceal himself in. Moving into the cover, he stood there, the rifle cocked but held loosely over his arm, studying the scenery. He enjoyed the sights, including more than one rabbit that came to drink. Finally a family of coons sauntered up, including four small ones, and he enjoyed their antics, thinking, They look just like bandits with those masks, but they sure do seem to be having fun. He stood there until late afternoon shadows began to descend, closing like a curtain around him, turning the eastern sky into orange fireworks. The quietness soaked into his spirit, and he could not help but think, This may be the last. But he forced the thought out of his mind, as he had for the past two weeks, and now settled himself in to wait. It grew almost dark, and he was ready to give up, when suddenly a big buck with a rack of huge antlers stepped out from the bush across the creek, came to the water, and began to drink. Slowly Cody raised the rifle, centered on the heart of the magnificent animal, and then he hesitated. One pull of the trigger, and he’s gone forever, he thought. He admired the sleek muscles, the proud look, and the fine, large eyes. He thought about what a miracle it was for God to make such a creature, and was surprised, for he would never have thought this before. He had killed hundreds of deer, and never once had it occurred to him that God had anything to do with it.
He sighed, and the animal immediately threw his head up and bolted. Cody regretfully sent his shot, which caught the buck in midstride and brought him to the ground. Cody ejected the shell, went over, splashed across the creek, and found the animal’s eyes already glazed with death. “Too bad,” he murmured softly, stroking the rough coat. Then he put the thought out of his mind. Pulling out his sheath knife, he rapidly dressed the animal, and regretfully left most of it, taking only as much as they could use for the next two or three days.
“Cody, you got one!” Laurie said as he walked back into camp with a load of meat in one hand and the rifle in the other.
“Cook this fellow up,” Cody grinned. “We’ll have a dinner fit for a king tonight. And a queen,” he added.
She smiled and flushed slightly at his words, then began stirring the fire up to roast the deer meat.
An hour later, they were sitting before the fire, eating the delicious steaks hungrily. Cody took a bite, chewing it thoughtfully, and said, “I hated to kill this fellow. That’s funny isn’t it? I must have killed a hundred deer and never once thought about it.”
“Why was it hard for you?” Laurie asked. She had eaten her fill and had opened a can of peaches. Dividing it into two portions, she put half of it into a cup and handed it to him. She fished out a golden wedge-shaped slice with her fingers and stuck it into her mouth.
“You greedy girl,” Cody laughed. “You’re gonna choke! Never saw a kid that went after sweets like you do.”
Laurie did almost choke, but when she swallowed, she made a face at him. “I’m not a kid,” she said. “And you’re just as bad. Now, what about the deer?”
He sat there, enjoying the warm sweetness of the peaches, and explained to her that he had thought how marvelous the deer was.
“There was a poet named Walt Whitman,” Laurie said. “He was a nurse for the Union during the Civil War, and he wrote a book called Leaves of Grass. Some things,” she said, “I never liked about it, but he had one thing in there that I will never forget.” She held up her hand and wiggled her thumbs, quoting the poet: “The narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery.”
Cody cocked his head, his eyes narrowing as he thought about it. “I don’t understand.”
Her eyes grew bright, reflecting the firelight, and she said, “Don’t you see? People talk about how wonderful it is, a steamboat, for example, a machine that has all that power.”
“Well, it is pretty wonderful, isn’t it?”
“Not as wonderful as this.” She moved her thumb back and forth. “That’s a hinge, you see, and how hard do you think it would be for a man to make that? This hand—these fingers—all the human body, he’s saying, is a greater marvel than any piece of machinery ever built.”
Understanding dawned on Cody, and he nodded. “Why, that’s true, isn’t it? Any man can get smart enough to make a boiler, or a locomotive, but nobody could ever make a human being. Nobody except God, that is.”
“That’s what Whitman said. I remember another line.” She quoted it slowly, as if savoring the words. “He said, ‘A mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.’ ” She smiled, then nodded.
She waved her hand toward the fiery stars that glittered overhead. “I don’t see how anyone could look at that and not know that someone made it all. They didn’t make themselves.”
They went on talking, their voices low; sometimes they laughed, and finally, it grew late. Cody got up, walked to the creek and filled the bucket with water, and brought it back to hand it to her. “Wash some of that down,” he said. She rose to her feet and took a drink, then handed it back. The moon overhead was round and pale and brilliant, shedding its beams over the two of them. Tossing the can down, he reached out and took her hands. “This trip,” he said, “these days together, I’ll never forget them, Laurie.”
“No. Neither of us will,” she whispered. She was acutely aware of his hands, and of his eyes that were fixed on hers. Looking up at him, she said, “We’ll tell our grandchildren about it. How that we rode all the way across the country together when we were young.”
“They’d be shocked,” he said with a smile. “They’ll wonder, a man and a woman not married spending all that time together.” He suddenly looked at her, aware of the beauty of her face, and the attractiveness of her slim form. “It’s another miracle,” he said, “that as much as I love you, there’s not been one single thing wrong with this trip.”
“No,” she said. She loosed her hand and put it upon his chest, saying, “You’ve been wonderful, and no man could have been more thoughtful, under these circumstances. Most men would have tried at least to take some advantage, but you never have.”
Cody looked embarrassed and said, “Well, I can’t always say my record’s been that clean, but with you it’s different.”
“Cody,” she said suddenly, “when we get to your home, I want us to be married.”
“Why, that’s crazy, Laurie!” Cody stared at her and shook his head, his jawline growing tense as he said, “I’ll be going to jail for a long time!”
“I don’t care,” she said. “I don’t believe it in the first place—God is going to do something. But even if you did, for the rest of our lives, you’re my husband, and I would never have another man.”
The sweetness of her, the gentleness, and the beauty leaped out at him. He reached out and tenderly pulled her close; his hands were gentle as they went around her, and his arms were firm, but not possessive. He held her tightly, as she pressed her face against his chest. They stood that way for a long time, then she lifted her face for his kiss. He kept his lips on hers for a long time, then lifted his head. His voice was husky as he said, “There never was a woman like you, Laurie Winslow!”
Laurie felt a loneliness as he stepped back, and she said in a small voice, “We’d better get to sleep, Cody. I guess we’ll get to the ranch in a few days, won’t we?”
“I figure two,” Cody said. The thought so troubled him that he drew a hand across his face and shook his head. “I’ll miss all this,” he said.
Laurie said, “All my life, my folks read stories to me out of the Bible, and almost all of them involved somebody in big trouble. I guess all people have their troubles.” She looked at him and said quietly, “And I reckon ours are bigger than most right now.”
“How do you have faith when everything looks black as midnight?” Cody asked. He was sober as he stood there, his body somewhat tense, as he struggled with the age-old question. “How do you believe God when there’
s not a thing you can see to make you believe Him?”
“That’s what faith is, Cody. It’s like it’s some dark night—you’re riding your horse and you come to a precipice. You have to go on, but the night is so dark,” she added, getting carried away with her story. “You know you’ve got to jump your mount down whatever it is. It might be a canyon a thousand feet deep, and it might be only a dropoff of two feet. But you’ve got to do it.”
“I believe I’d turn around and go the other way,” Cody smiled gently. Then the smile disappeared. “But this time there is no other way, is there? So I guess we’ll just have to take the jump of faith.”
“We will, Cody. And God will answer. You’ll see.”
****
“Well, there it is. We made it.”
The two riders pulled up at the top of the hill and looked down at the Circle W Ranch, which was barely illuminated by the pale gleams of the sun rising over the mountains to the east. They had ridden at an even pace, each hour during the last two days seeming to tick off slowly in their minds, tolling like a warning bell. They had spent the remaining time as best they could—talking, enjoying each other, reveling in the setting—but now that they were here, Cody became glum. “I wish this ranch were another thousand miles up in Canada. But, there it is, and we’ve got to go in.”
“Before we go,” Laurie said, “I want you to promise me that you’ll marry me, and we’ll see this thing through together.”
Cody lowered his head. A struggle went on in him and he said, “I’ll promise you this. If your parents say it’s all right, I’ll do it.”
Laurie stared at him and nodded. “That’s a bargain.” She pulled her hat down firmly on her forehead, came up with a smile, and said, “Come on. I can’t wait to see their faces when we come riding in.”
They rode down the slope and across the pasture and finally, into the yard itself. Just as they rode in, someone stepped out on the porch. “Who is it?”
Cody pulled his horse up and stared at the tall man, saying, “It’s me, Dad.”
Dan Winslow was hard hit by the greeting. He swallowed hard, then turned and called inside, “Hope—come here quick!” Then he turned back, his eyes fixed on the pair who were dismounting now and walking toward him. Hope stepped out onto the porch and said, “What is it—” and then she saw Cody and the young woman. At once, her face lost its heaviness, and a smile broke across her lips. She ran across the yard, threw herself into Cody’s arms, and held him fiercely, her face pressed against his chest. They stood there holding each other. Dan came up to stand beside them, putting his hand on Cody’s shoulder, then turning to face the young woman who was standing off to one side. “Well, don’t I get a hug, Laurie? Looks like your favorite uncle deserves that.”
Laurie had felt left out of the scene, and immediately she went to the tall man, who put his arms around her, then kissed her firmly on the cheek. There was a moment’s silence, then Hope drew back from Cody and tried to laugh. It was not much of a laugh, but it was something. “Come into the house,” she said. “You two must be worn out.”
“I guess we’re all right, Mom,” Cody said, following the two as they stepped up on the porch and entered the kitchen.
As they walked through the door, Cody gave Laurie’s arm a squeeze. She looked up at him, and he could see the tears gathering in her eyes, but she dashed them away and whispered, “They’re so glad to see you, Cody.”
“I just started breakfast,” Hope said nervously. “I don’t know if I can cook or not, I’m so excited to see you. Tell us about your trip while I finish this breakfast.”
As Hope moved from the stove to the table, unable to be still, Dan said, “We’ve been trying to find you ever since you left the Wild West Show.”
Cody stared at him. “How did you know about it?”
“Got a wire from Sam Novak. He’s a nephew of mine, you know. He told us what happened and said to be on the lookout for you.” His light blue eyes fell on Laurie, and he said gently, “That was a hard trip for a woman, Laurie.”
“Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” Laurie murmured.
“Tell us all about it,” Hope said. She listened as Cody described their trip across the country, and finally set the food on the table. She sat down, saying, “You ask the blessing, Dan, and let’s have a good one.”
She was not disappointed, for Dan Winslow blessed the food briefly, then poured out his heart in thanksgiving to God for bringing his son home. When he lifted his eyes, they saw that he was tremendously moved.
They ate a little of the food, for all of them were under too much pressure and tension.
Finally, Cody shoved his plate back and shook his head. “I’ve got to tell you something,” he said. “I’m going to give myself up, no other way.”
“And I’m going to marry him,” Laurie said defiantly, holding her head up.
“Even though he’ll be in prison?” Hope asked quickly.
“Yes.”
That single word had so much force in it that Dan and Hope both looked at her more closely. “That’s pretty hard, tying yourself to a man who may not get out for years,” he said. “You’re a young woman, you can get married and have a family of your own.”
Cody was surprised at Dan, but he said nothing. Laurie, however, said almost angrily, “I don’t care what you say, Uncle Dan. Cody’s marrying me and that’s all there is to it. I have his promise for that.”
“Only if your folks agree,” Cody said quickly. “And I don’t think they will.”
Hope gave Dan a look that neither of the young people understood; then she turned back and, with an eloquent gesture, leaned forward, reached across the table, and captured both of their hands. “Oh, I think Tom and Faith will agree,” she said softly.
“I don’t see why they would, their daughter marrying a jailbird,” said Cody, squeezing his mother’s hand. Then he got up and walked to the window, looked out on the sunrise, and turned to face them, his lips drawn in a tight line. “I’ve given you nothing but grief, and I can’t make that up to you, I know. But, I appreciate your standing by us.” He hesitated, then said, “I’m going into town. Might as well get this over with.”
“Oh, stay awhile,” Laurie said. “You don’t have to go right now.”
Cody shook his head. “It’ll just make it worse.” He stood there, a lonely figure illuminated by the light that flooded through the window. He had a youthful face, but the last months had marked it so that he was no longer the happy-go-lucky young man that he had been. There was a seriousness and a forcefulness in him now, Dan and Hope saw, that had not been there before. Suddenly he said, “But I’ve got one good thing to give you.” He glanced at Laurie, who was nodding, and said, “I’ve found the Lord, and I’m a Christian now.”
Dan slapped the table with a heavy hand and cried out, “Glory be to God!” He came to his feet, as did Hope, and the two of them went to him, hugging him.
“You don’t have to smother me!” he finally gasped.
Pulling him back to the table they made him sit down and tell the whole story of his conversion, which he did. He spoke freely of Sam Novak, and of Mac McGonigal, and of Laurie, and how they had prayed for him. He told of Moody’s meeting and the impact that gentle man had on him the night he had been dragged to church. Dan and Hope laughed at the picture he made of himself, roped and tied up like a Thanksgiving turkey, carried into church in front of thousands of people. “But,” he said, “Mr. Moody had a real effect on me, and I never got away from it.” He said then, “So no matter if I’m in jail, I know I have God.”
Hope had tears in her eyes. She dashed them quickly with the back of her hand and said, “Son, you’re not going to jail.”
Cody stared at her, thinking he had misunderstood her words. “What do you mean, I’m not going to jail?”
“Tell him, Dan,” said Hope.
Dan Winslow brushed his dark hair back, and there was a light in his face as he said, “If you had kept in touch, you could have
saved yourself grief. Heck Thomas has been on the job for a long time. Now, he came in a month ago, and he had good news.”
“He found out about the real killer?” Cody almost jumped at him.
“He did, and it didn’t come as too much of a surprise to me. It was Pike Simmons.”
Cody stared at him, then said, “Pike Simmons!” He slapped his fist into his palm, saying, “Of course, he had to have been paid to lie about me.”
“Well, that’s what Thomas found out.”
“Why did he do it? Why did he lie about Cody?” Laurie asked breathlessly. Her heart was beating fast, and she held her hand over it as if to quiet it.
“Why, Tippitt paid him to do it, of course. He was so anxious to see his son avenged, and so sure that Cody did it, he made sure of it by hiring Simmons to swear to it in court.”
Cody’s hands were trembling, and his knees felt weak. “I don’t see how Thomas made him change his story.”
“Wasn’t too hard. Simmons was arrested holding up a bank in Cheyenne. The gang all got caught, and the teller was killed. None of them were hanged, but they all got sentences of twenty-five years without parole. Pike Simmons didn’t have a thing to lose.”
“What did Mr. Thomas do?”
“Why, he promised Simmons a lump sum, which would be enough to keep him in cigarettes and the few things you can buy in the pen for a long time. It didn’t amount to much, but that was all it took. He wasn’t afraid of what Tippitt could do to him in the pen.”
Cody stared at Dan for a moment, dazed by all of it. Then he asked abruptly, “But why did Simmons kill Harve?”
Dan shrugged his broad shoulders. “For the money, of course. He knew Harve had picked up a lot of cash from the bank and was taking it home with him. Simmons got drunk and followed Harve. He told Heck he tried to get Harve to frame a holdup, but when Harve refused, he just killed him out of hand.”
The Jeweled Spur Page 29