by Peggy Gaddis
“Do tell!” Cherry murmured dryly, but her hands were clenched tightly in her lap.
“Well, it’s true,” said Job harshly. “It can’t be much fun for her living there with that old sourpuss of a father and that stepmother with her own brood of youngsters, resenting every bite Betty eats and working her half to death. And Betty can’t get a job and leave them, because she has no training that would make it possible for her to earn enough to live on. But to hear the girls around town talk, you’d think Betty was a siren out of an old movie.”
“Well, simmer down, pal, simmer down,” Cherry said. “I only asked if she would be at the dance. I know you’ve been seeing a lot of her, and I thought you would probably know.”
Job drew the car to a halt beside the road, well over on the edge, and turned to her with an air of a man who had something on his mind.
“I haven’t been seeing a lot of Betty, as you express it,” he stated flatly. “I took her to a box supper at the church one Saturday night when you were all tied up at the Lodge with a houseful of fishing guests. I’ve seen her a few times on the street; we went to a movie one night because I felt sorry for her. I would have told you about it.”
“Why should you?” Cherry could not keep back the words.
“Because I was fool enough to think you might be interested,” he told her swiftly. “And then you made it plain that very little interested you except Jonathan Gayle, so I kept my mouth shut. I like Betty; I feel sorry for her. But you have known for a long time how I feel about you. And you seem to get quite a bang out of keeping me dangling while you gallop gaily off with somebody like Jonathan Gayle. Well, let’s get one thing clear here and now. I’m getting a trifle tired of dangling. I want a wife and a home. And I’d like you to be that wife; I’d like it more than anything in the world. That is, if you can ever make up your mind. But if you don’t, Cherry, we are going to call the whole thing off.”
Cherry caught her breath soundlessly and fought for a tone that was reasonably steady before she asked, “In which case, Betty gets elected?”
“Could be,” snapped Job.
“Well, I’m sorry for Betty, too,” Cherry managed after a moment, her voice shaking slightly, “but not sorry enough to let her marry you. Because that’s what I’m going to do, and it’s illegal for a man to have two wives.”
There was a stunned moment before Job could convince himself that he had really heard what he had wanted so long to hear.
“What did you say?” he asked at last, his own voice far from steady.
“I said that I wanted to marry you, Job; that is, if you still want me to,” Cherry managed shakily.
“If I still want you to!” Job said barely above his breath. His arms reached for her and drew her close and hard against him, and his lips sought and found her own in a kiss that seemed to close like warm, gentle fingers about her heart and lift it to her lips for his taking.
There was an interval that might have been minutes or only seconds while they savored to the full the perfection of that exquisite time. Then Job lifted his head and put her a few inches away from him, and in the dim light from the instrument panel he saw that his face was twisted by a puzzled scowl.
“Is this on the level, Cherry?” he asked her huskily. “You’re not just taking me for a ride? You mean it? You want to marry me?”
Quick tears sprang to Cherry’s eyes at the aching humility in his voice, and she framed his face between her two palms and raised her own face to set her mouth against his.
“Oh, darling, yes, with all my heart,” she whispered when her lips were free for speech. “And I’m a low-down so-and-so to have taken so long to know the truth. You’ll despise me.”
“Now that I doubt.”
“You will when I tell you that it was jealousy of Betty that made me realize I loved you. Isn’t that a terrible confession? Now do you despise me?”
Job laughed and his arms tightened about her.
“You want to know something?” he told her confidentially. “I’ve been in love with you since we went to school together. But I wasn’t in any great hurry for us to be married until Gayle showed up at the Lodge. And then I knew that if you didn’t marry me, I’d have a very lonely old age; because there couldn’t be anybody else for me but you.”
“Not even Betty?” she teased.
“Not anybody,” Job assured her firmly.
“Poor Betty!” said Cherry later as they finally remembered the dance and Job drove on.
“Don’t make fun of her, Cherry,” said Job sharply.
“Darling!” Cherry was hurt that he should misunderstand. “How could I? I was just thinking. Do you suppose she’d like to come and live at the Lodge? She would be very useful, and we could pay her enough for spending money, and she’d have no expenses. Do you think she’d like that?”
“I think she’d love it, and I love you for thinking of it,” Job told her. “It adds one more to the several million reasons I love you, come to think of it.”
Ahead of them a wide sweep of driveway opened up, and at the end of it the Mason barn, a huge square building with a few windows here and there, blazed with yellow light.
As Job parked the car beside the drive, thrusting its nose in between those of cars of all vintages and makes, he looked down at Cherry
“I suppose we’ll have to go in?” he asked reluctantly.
“I’m afraid so.” Cherry sounded equally reluctant, and then she asked lightly, “Will your boss object to your living at the Lodge instead of at your station?”
Job frowned in bewilderment.
“What a silly question! We’ll be living at the station, of course; where else? It’s my job, honey, and I wouldn’t want any other.”
Cherry sat erect. “Oh, but, Job, I can’t go away and leave Gran’sir,” she protested.
“Now look, Cherry, we’re going to be married and of course you are coming to live at the station,” he told her sternly. “Mother has been wanting to go to Florida and live with my sister and that will leave the house for you to boss single-handed. Don’t tell me you won’t live there. Cherry, it’s a beautiful place! You’ll love it!”
“Oh, I’m sure I will, darling. Any place where you are will be a beautiful place to me,” Cherry assured him, and was suitably rewarded “It’s just that I hate to leave Gran’sir. Still, Loyce will still be there, and I can train Betty to take over my job.”
Job said quietly, “For a moment you had me worried.”
Cherry looked up at him in swift compunction.
“Did I, darling? I’m sorry. Forgive me?”
“I doubt you could do anything I wouldn’t forgive,” he admitted, and drew her close. “It’s just that it’s taken you so long to make up your mind to marry me that I was a bit uneasy; afraid you’d suddenly change your mind.”
Cherry framed his face between her two hands and set her mouth on his in a kiss of lingering tenderness.
“That, my darling, is something you need never worry about again,” she told him softly.
When at last they left the car and walked toward the barn, they were hand in hand. Just before they reached the entrance, double doors large enough to permit a two-horse team to enter, Loyce and Jonathan came to greet them.
“Where have you been?” Loyce asked. “I was worried about you, afraid you’d had an accident.”
Cherry looked up at Job, and her smile was a lovely thing to see.
“Shall we tell her?” she asked lightly.
“Why not? I’ll climb up on the roof and broadcast it to the world if you like,” Job answered with an expansive grin.
“We’ve been getting ourselves engaged,” beamed Cherry.
She was so absorbed, so wrapped in her own happiness that she did not catch the swift flicker of expression that crossed Loyce’s face; an expression of dismay that was swallowed up almost immediately by Loyce’s protestations of delight and congratulations. But Jonathan, who had been watching Loyce, saw that swift flicke
r of dismay, and for a moment his jaw hardened and his eyes were bleak.
Cherry, bubbling with happiness, said eagerly, “You boys trot along inside. I want to talk to Loyce a minute.”
Job chuckled. “Might as well start learning to obey orders, I suppose. She’s a very managing female. Come on, Gayle. Let’s see if we can find ourselves partners for the next hoe-down.”
When they were alone, Cherry drew Loyce to a spot near a big oak tree that shaded the corner of the barn and said eagerly, “Job says we’ll have to live at the ranger station.”
“Well, of course. It’s nice his mother and you are such good friends. There won’t be any mother-in-law trouble.” Loyce kept her tone light.
“Golly, can you imagine anybody ever having trouble with Miss Lucy? She’s the grandest person. Maybe one reason I fell in love with Job was because I was so crazy about Miss Lucy,” Cherry laughed and rushed on. “But I had an idea coming down. What would you think of asking Betty Marshall to come and live at the Lodge? I could teach her how to handle reservations and the books and all. And of course, you’ll be there.”
The shadows beneath the oak, newly leaved and rustling slightly in the crisp air, concealed Loyce’s face from her, and Loyce’s voice was quite steady as she answered, “Yes, of course I’ll be there.”
“Betty is having a rotten time of it at home and she hasn’t any business training. But I remember she was a whiz at arithemetic in school, so she won’t have any trouble with the bookkeeping, I know,” Cherry rushed on. “And she’ll be company for you and Gran’sir. What do you think?”
Loyce said quietly, “I think it’s a wonderful idea. Betty’s here tonight. Why don’t you talk to her and see what she thinks.”
“You don’t think I ought to talk to Gran’sir first?” asked Cherry.
“I am sure he will be perfectly agreeable. Betty’s a nice girl and a very deserving one. She would get along beautifully with the Mitchells. If Betty would like to come to the Lodge and take over for you, I think it would be a wonderful arrangement,” said Loyce and her voice was completely steady. “I’m so happy for you and Job, Cherry. You’ve known each other so long, it couldn’t be anything but a perfect marriage.”
“You’re sweet, Loyce. And I hope some day — ” Cherry broke off awkwardly and added, “We’d better get into the dancing and protect our men folks from predatory females. I don’t trust these ‘tourister gals’ worth a cent.”
Loyce managed a smile and walked, head up, eyes straight ahead, back into the big, noisy barn.
Chapter Fourteen.
When the dance was over and Jonathan and Loyce were driving back to the Lodge, she sat very quietly beside him.
Jonathan tried tentatively to talk to her about the dance, the weird but somehow toe-tickling music. She answered in monosyllables, and when at last he parked the car beside the Lodge he turned swiftly to her and stopped her as she would have climbed out.
“So Cherry and Job are getting married,” he said. “You’ll miss her when she goes away.”
“Yes, of course. But I’ll keep very busy.” Her voice stumbled and broke.
“And what happens when you get married and go away?” asked Jonathan.
“Oh, I won’t,” Loyce answered hurriedly, and fought the break in her voice. “We can’t both leave Gran’sir, after all he’s done for us.”
“I rather imagined that would be the way you would feel,” said Jonathan grimly. “The born martyr!”
“I’m not!” she flashed at him hotly.
“Then I’ve been a double-starred, copper-riveted fool to think for so much as a moment that you could ever learn to love me.” Jonathan’s voice was harsh.
“That’s not true, darling.” She threw aside all pretense and faced him in the dim light that felt its way through the tall trees. “I do love you. I adore you. But you do understand that both Cherry and I cannot abandon Gran’sir. Don’t you see that?”
“I see that you, being you, would feel that way.”
“Well, what other way can I feel?” she burst out. Now there were tears sliding down her cheeks, but she was unaware of them until she felt their salt on her lips. “He brought us here when we were only babies. He’s brought us up and loved us and cared for us; and now he’s old and crippled. How can you possibly think we would both go off and leave him now?”
There was a moment of silence, and then she asked huskily, “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to live here permanently if we were married?”
“Of course not,” Jonathan answered violently.
“Of course not,” she echoed forlornly.
“See here, Loyce, I can’t just sit around a place like this the rest of my life,” he told her sharply. “After alL I put in a good many years learning my profession. Naturally I want to go back to it; and naturally, I want to take you with me as my wife.”
“Naturally,” she whispered miserably. “And naturally I can’t abandon Gran’sir. So that leaves us very little to say except goodbye.”
“Apparently not,” said Jonathan grimly, and got out of the car. “I’ll get my stuff together tomorrow and take off. I’ve hung around here long enough waiting for you to get over eating your heart out about that Hammett fellow. I’m not going to hang around here waiting for you to get rid of that martyr complex that took over when the inferiority gave up.”
“I’m sorry, Jonny,” she whispered forlornly, and brushed past him up the steps and into the house.
Jonathan stood for a long moment on the lawn before at last he made himself turn and go into the house. There was a bitter droop to his shoulders and his face was set in a hard mask of angry frustration. It would, he told himself savagely as he went up to his room, be just his luck to fall in love with a girl like Loyce who had such a terrific sense of duty to the old man who had done so much for her and her sister.
When he came down to breakfast the next morning Loyce had already vanished. Cherry was waiting for him, radiant and excited.
“I talked to Gran’sir at breakfast about having Betty Marshall up here and training her for my work,” she reported gaily. “Betty was so tickled the poor girl nearly fainted; and Gran’sir thought it was a marvelous idea. I think he’s so tickled that I’ve finally made up my mind about Job that he’d have accepted ‘most anybody I wanted to bring in.”
She poured a fresh cup of coffee for him and leaned her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her palm, her eyes brimming with merriment.
“You want to know something funny?” she asked.
“I can’t think of anything I’d like better than to hear something funny.”
“Gran’sir thought I was in danger of falling in love with you.” Cherry’s tone invited him to laugh, but instead Jonathan merely looked at her in complete stupefaction.
“He couldn’t possibly have,” he protested.
“Oh, but he did!” Cherry bubbled with laughter, and sobered as she added hastily, “Oh, if it hadn’t been for Job, I would have, Jonny. You’re a grand person and I am tremendously fond of you. But of course with me it’s always been Job, though it took me quite a spell to discover it.”
She chuckled and offered more coffee, but Jonathan refused.
“Where is His Honor? Available for a chat? I want to say goodbye,” Jonathan told her as he stood up.
“Goodbye?” Cherry repeated, wide-eyed. “Oh, Jonny, you’re not leaving now. You’ve got to stay for my wedding!”
“Thanks, Cherry, that’s sweet of you, but I’ve loafed long enough,” Jonathan told her. “Way past time I was getting back among the torts and briefs, or I’ll have to learn the language all over again.”
Cherry asked quietly, “Have you and Loyce quarreled?”
Jonathan caught his breath.
“Now that’s a silly question.” His tone was harsh.
“Look, can’t you realize, Cherry, that I’m a city slicker? I can take just so much of this mountain stuff.
“Well, yes, of course, Jonny,
if you say so.” Cherry was very much subdued and understandably puzzled. “Gran’sir is out on the side verandah.”
“Thanks,” said Jonathan curtly, and marched out.
The Judge dropped his newspaper as Jonathan came out and smiled a warm, friendly smile of greeting, and motioned to a chair beside him, commenting pleasantly on the perfection of the morning.
“I thought I’d take off, Judge,” Jonathan told him when the first greetings were over. “Loafing gets to be a chore after a while, and I’ve been down here for weeks.”
“It’s been a real pleasure to have you, Jonny, and I’ll hate seeing you go,” said the Judge quietly.
“Thank you, sir,” Jonathan answered. “It’s been pretty wonderful here and I hope I may come back some time for another vacation. But of course I’m going to be pretty busy for the next few years getting a practice established.”
The Judge smiled. “I take it you are no longer disillusioned with the law?”
Jonathan managed an answering grin. “Only with some of those who practice it.”
“Oh, well, there are crooks and scoundrels in all trades, and we just have to learn to live with that fact,” the Judge answered.
For a moment the two men sat in a rather awkward silence. There was so much each wanted to say to the other, and yet it was difficult to bring the subject to the fore.
“One thing, Jonny, I shall always be grateful for,” said the Judge. “And that’s what you have done for Loyce.”
Jonathan looked up, and for a moment the taut scowl was gone from his face and he could only look at the Judge with astonishment.
“For what I’ve done for Loyce?” he repeated incredulously. “When you first came she was living in a tight little world all her own, locked up in some bitterness that I could not feel was entirely due to her grief for Weldon, although I knew that hit her hard,” said the Judge slowly, his eyes on the scene before them, dappled with sunshine and shadow, the garden agleam with summer beauty. “I don’t know what miracle you worked, but I’m very grateful for it. In the past few weeks she has come out of the shadows and has become the girl she was before Weldon came. I’m very fond of my granddaughters, Jonny.”