Undaunted Spirit

by Jane Peart

  “You sound cynical.”

  “Do I? Sorry. Well, I suppose I am.” Elyse still hesitated. “I’m out of sorts today.” She paused, hands on her hips facing Mindy. Then she added, “Does Wade want a photo, too?” “I haven’t asked him yet, but I think he will.” Mindy’s eyes shone. “He’s so good looking, I don’t think he should be afraid of the camera.” She stopped for a second. “But to be honest, it’s mostly for me. I’d like to have a picture of us when Wade goes out of town, just to remind me of . . . well, of how marvelous it all is.”

  “Marvelous?” Elyse repeated. “Are you sure, Mindy, you’re not creating castles in Spain?”

  “What do you mean? Oh, of course, I know what you mean by castles in Spain.” She frowned, “But you mean something else, don’t you?”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Elyse’s brow puckered. “Wade doesn’t seem to be the kind of man . . . well, I’m afraid you might get hurt if you count too much on him.”

  “For goodness sake, Elyse, I’m not. A picture is all I want, is that too much? You’re making a mountain out of a molehill.”

  “All right,” Elyse said, “If that’s what you want. I’ll do it.”

  Once that was settled, Mindy made a quick search of her wardrobe for a dress to wear for the sitting. Nothing really seemed right. Wade was always perfectly turned out, and she wanted to look her best. Most of her clothes were serviceable, ones she wore to work, usually covered by a printer’s apron. She needed something special to have her picture taken with Wade.

  Wade’s reaction at first was resistant. “Oh, come on, Mindy, that’s nonsense. I’ll break Elyse’s camera. And that equipment is pretty expensive—she wouldn’t appreciate that.”

  “She’s already agreed to do it. Please don’t fuss. Elyse’ll be leaving soon, and we’ll miss this chance. Besides, I want my family to know I’m not making you up.” She touched his chin, letting her forefinger slide down the line of his jaw, and teased, “Just to prove that you’re real and just as handsome as I told them.”

  Wade was still unconvinced. “I think it’s a lot of foolishness.” Mindy coaxed, “Won’t you do it just to please me?”

  Reluctantly Wade gave in.

  Thrilled that she had talked him into consenting, Mindy took the next step. She had to get something new to wear. She hurried to the town seamstress. Mrs. Farraday had sample dresses she made from patterns she sold. This way a client could see what it looked like made up then have it copied with their own measurements.

  Because of Mindy’s size, one of the model dresses she tried on fit her perfectly. The seamstress was so surprised, she nearly swallowed the mouthful of pins she had ready to make adjustments if necessary. She stood back, her gaze taking in every inch of Mindy’s figure.

  “The only problem is this is one of my wedding-dress styles.” She eyed Mindy speculatively. “It may be a little too dainty, too fancy for a working woman like yourself, Miss McClaren. Maybe, you want something more . . . well, more—”

  “No, I don’t think so, Mrs. Faraday. This is really lovely.” Mindy smiled at her image in the full-length mirror, turning this way and that.

  “Hmm,” was Miss Faraday’s only comment.

  Spontaneously, Mindy said, “Can you keep a secret?”

  “I keep plenty, I can tell you. You’d be surprised how many multitudes of sin are covered with material.”

  Mindy was about to tell her that this dress might someday in the future be used for the purpose it was designed, but before she blurted this out, the seamstress’s doorbell rang, interrupting this impulsive confidence. The seamstress hurried to answer it. Two ladies entered, one of whom Mindy recognized as a notorious gossip. This woman always waylaid her when she was on her ad collection rounds and never had a good word to say about anyone. She was certainly not going to reveal anything personal in front of these two.

  Even Elyse took a long look at the dress when Mindy showed it to her, asking in a slightly sarcastic tone, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “Not really. Maybe it’s a wishful-thinking kind of dress,” Mindy replied dreamily. It was a lovely dress and extremely becoming. She didn’t want Elyse to say anything to lower her high spirit. Since Wade’s recent return, anything seemed possible.

  The day scheduled for the picture-taking session was Friday. The paper would be out, and Mindy would be free until Monday. Elyse was leaving the following Wednesday. The fact that she would be losing her good friend shadowed Mindy’s happiness a little as she put on the beautiful dress in preparation of the photographing session set for the afternoon.

  When she arrived at the cottage, Elyse took a long hard look at Mindy and affected the local way of showing awe: “Well, if you don’t beat all.”

  “Like it?” Mindy spun around a couple of times. She held out the tiered skirt, touched the puffed sleeves, stretched out her arms showing the lace wrist ruffles.

  Elyse put her head to one side. “Are you sure you don’t have something you’re not telling me?”

  A quick flush warmed Mindy’s cheeks. She tried to sound nonchalant. “It was an impulsive choice, maybe. But every woman ought to have one special dress, shouldn’t they?”

  “That’s usually her wedding dress.” Elyse’s eyes were serious. “Has the elusive Mr. Carrigan popped the question?”

  “Oh, no, nothing like that,” Mindy said, changing the subject quickly. Although Wade had not mentioned marriage, they had been so happy together since his return, she had sometimes felt he was on the brink of—proposing?

  Yet Mindy had to admit Wade was enigmatic. A few days ago on a picnic, things had never been better. They had talked and laughed and shared. Then suddenly Wade’s mood had changed. She couldn’t remember now if she had said something that might have triggered it. Had she reminded him of their appointment with Elyse? Whatever, he had turned dead serious. He had put his fingers under her chin and turned her head so she was looking directly at him. “I never thought to have someone like you in my life, Mindy.”

  “Or I you,” she replied, then added, “Aren’t we lucky?”

  “Some kind of luck. I think you got the worst of the deal.” “Hush, don’t say that.” She had leaned forward and kissed him. His lips tasted of the cider, sweet, tangy.

  They had packed up what was left of the picnic then and ridden home through a glorious sunset.

  Elyse’s voice brought Mindy sharply back to the present. “Did you tell Wade what time to come?” Elyse was setting up the camera and had arranged an artistic backdrop. She was draping a bench with a velvet cloth.

  “Yes. Anything I can do to help?”

  “No, I’m about all set,” Elyse said looking past her over her shoulder. “Where’s Wade?”

  “He said he would meet me here. How do I look?”

  “Dare I say it? Like a bride.”

  Mindy laughed, “For heavens sake, don’t say that in front of Wade.”

  “Why not? It might prod him to do the right thing. Anyway it’s the truth. I’ve never seen you look so pretty.”

  “Then why don’t you look happy, Elyse?”

  “Oh, Mindy, it’s just that I’m worried.”

  “Worried about what?”

  “That somehow he’s going to break your heart.”

  “Don’t be silly, Elyse, he’s not and—”

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Elyse’s mouth tightened and she turned away rearranging the drape again.

  “I know you’re saying it because you care about me, Elyse, and I appreciate it. But I don’t believe Wade would ever hurt me.”

  “I hope not. Just be careful, Mindy, won’t you?”

  She gave Mindy an impulsive hug.

  “I’m going to miss you, Elyse.”

  “Don’t you dare cry and get your eyes and nose all red before I immortalize you in a photograph,” Elyse scolded, and they both laughed.

  At fifteen after four, the clock struck the quarter hour. Wade
was to have been there at three. Elyse tried not to pointedly consult her watch, but her toe tapped impatiently. Mindy made another futile trip to the window. For the fourth time Mindy said, “I can’t imagine where he can be.”

  At five Elyse remarked, “There’s not enough light even if we used oil lamps set all around.”

  Mindy’s heart felt like it was hung with a heavy stone. Why had Wade not come? There must be some explanation.

  The explanation came when she checked the livery stable. Wade had taken both of his horses, his saddle bags full, and ridden off to the hills early that morning. He’d left no word when he would be back.

  Chapter 25

  Two weeks later there still was no explanation for Wade’s failing to show up for the scheduled photograph. Even as much as Mindy looked for an excuse, there seemed no reasonable one.

  Elyse did not express her own version. Mindy knew her friend was angry for her sake, but she did not want to hear anything against Wade until such time as he would tell her himself. And Mindy was sure that time would come. He would show up. He always did. He jokingly called himself “the bad penny.”

  She had been terribly disappointed, but she reminded herself that she had made the decision if she loved Wade to take him as he was, not make him measure up to some standard of her own.

  Elyse had departed with all her equipment, promising Mindy to keep in touch but already looking forward to her next photographic assignment. This time she hoped it would be to Africa.

  Her interesting, stimulating presence gone left a void in Mindy’s life and for the first time in quite awhile she felt very lonesome.

  Taylor Bradford would have been happy to fill all her free time, but Mindy, aching for the person who was missing, gave him no romantic encouragement. Yet they remained good friends.

  For the first time in her young, healthy life Mindy discovered insomnia. Night after night she tossed restlessly, thinking about Wade and wondering why she could not write him off, why she cared so much, why the whole world seemed empty because he was not here. Her work was not enough. At last she realized that. She needed love, an enduring love she could return in full measure.

  What had she done wrong? Been too possessive, too open in her own feelings? Had it scared him? In the days that followed Mindy did a great deal of soul searching. About herself, about Wade. He was moody at times, elusive, even secretive. This bothered her truth-seeking soul. Shouldn’t people who loved each other share everything?

  Another week, then three weeks, passed since he had left. Mindy began to lose confidence. Maybe he had decided their relationship had grown too confining; maybe he wasn’t coming back.

  Mindy was trying to put thoughts of Wade aside while she readied copy for the Thursday edition, when Taylor walked into the newsroom.

  “Howdy, Mindy,” he greeted her. “I see you’re busy, but I just wondered if you were going to the barbecue Saturday?”

  “I don’t know for sure. As you can see I’ve a pile of work here, Taylor.” She tapped the pile of copy to be edited with the tip of her pencil.

  “Yes, but there’s plenty of time. Today’s only Tuesday, Mindy.”

  “And tomorrow’s Wednesday and the next day’s Thursday. The day the paper comes out.” She reminded him. “I still have my editorial to write and that always takes some thinking, besides the actual writing.”

  “Yep, I know.” He nodded and grinned. “Hope it ain’t about anything that’s goin’ to upset people.”

  “No, it’s pretty mild this time.” She smiled.

  “Well, anyhow, if you decide to go, I’d be pleased to escort you.”

  “Thanks, Taylor, I’ll let you know.”

  She stemmed her impatience to go on with her work, but Taylor was still standing there. “By the way, if you’ve got room in this week’s edition, I’d be obliged if you could print some of these. The deputy from the territory marshal’s office just brung ’em over.” Taylor laid a stack of WANTED posters at the edge of her desk.

  “Sure, Taylor,” Mindy replied, wishing he would leave.

  However, he wasn’t about to pass up the chance to talk to Mindy when she was not surrounded by other people. “It’s amazin’ how often a criminal can walk around a town unnoticed till someone sees his picture on one of these and turns him in.”

  Mindy nodded and tried not to let her impatience show. Taylor hesitated, and she could tell he had something more he wanted to say.

  “About the barbecue, after all, it’s the Fourth of July, Mindy.”

  Fourth of July! Her birthday, Mindy realized with a start. She had kept so busy and so preoccupied with her worries about Wade, she had almost forgotten. She would be twenty-four.

  “It’s a holiday. You shouldn’t work on a holiday,” Taylor said.

  “Yes, you’re right. I’ll see what I can do, and well, thank you for reminding me, Taylor. As I said I’ll let you know.” She didn’t want to promise anything. Maybe—just maybe—Wade would show up.

  After Taylor finally left Mindy went right to work on her editorial. She definitely wanted that done if Wade did arrive. Writing it took her less time than usual. Nothing controversial this week, thank goodness. That done, she went quickly through the rest of the material for this edition. The paper would be put to bed tomorrow when Pete came in to set the rest of the type. She stacked the copy to be typeset, then picked up the pile of posters Taylor had left to see which ones to include this week.

  Suddenly, her fingers holding one of the WANTED posters went numb. She stared at the picture in stunned disbelief. The image was blurred, as if there had been too much ink on the roller, yet there was something undeniably recognizable about that face . . . something devastatingly familiar. It couldn’t be. Wanted for bank robberies in three states, Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma. Calvin Warner, alias Cary Wadener, Warren Clay.

  Mindy sat perfectly still at her desk as if turned to stone. A fly buzzed noisily in the corner of the dusty window through which the late afternoon sunlight streamed. As though it came from a long distance away, she heard the sound of the anvil at the blacksmith shop down the street, a wagon rumbled by, a dog barked, two men greeted each other loudly outside the newspaper office.

  She shivered as if icy water were pouring through her veins. Her hands began to shake. No, it couldn’t be—and yet she knew it was. Although the picture was crude, it was undeniably Wade. She knew that face; she had traced her finger along the brows over those eyes staring so defiantly out of that photograph; she had stroked that strong jaw line and kissed that mouth.

  Sick and miserable, full of pain, somehow she managed to close up the office and walk unseeingly down the street home. She had to tell someone and yet, wouldn’t that betray Wade? Should she tell Taylor? He must not have looked through this batch of posters before he had brought them to her. Or did he know? Did he want to see if she would act upon the values declared so strongly in her editorials: integrity, truthfulness, principles to build a better community? Was he testing her?

  The need to confide what she suspected—no, what she had found out was great. But there was no one she could trust with this information without revealing her own interest in him. Elyse was gone. She had no one to ask what she should do. She was bound to report what she knew to be the truth. A bank robber masquerading as a law-abiding citizen in their midst. Wade.

  Stiffly, as though walking in a trance, Mindy went to her rooms. Her mind was in turmoil. Where was Wade now? At his mine site—or his so-called mine site? Was that a lie too? How many lies had he told? How many had she believed? Mindy went into her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Her breath was coming in choking gulps. Ragged sobs welled up from deep within. How could she have been so misled? Her gaze fell on the water-silk dress hanging outside her wardrobe. Hot tears rushed into her eyes. The dress she thought might be her wedding gown. How ironic! How she had been fooled! By his charm, by his devious charm. Mindy flung herself face down on the bed and wept.

  Exhausted, she f
inally cried herself out. She sat up, her head pounding, and tried to think through Wade’s horrible secret. How long had he thought he could get away with concealing his identity? Colorado was a long way from Missouri and Kansas and yet there was telegraph and the railroad connecting the country, and people traveled nowadays and brought news from other parts. And what was he doing on these mysterious trips? Were there other bank robberies closer at hand? Did he work alone? Or was he one of a band of outlaws? Her mind would only go so far along these paths. She could not associate the Wade she knew with the action of a wanted bank robber. She had known the comfort of his embrace, the ecstasy of his kisses. She had loved him—did she still love him? Or could a person love a stranger? Because that’s what Wade seemed now. Someone she didn’t know.

  What would she say, what would she do when she saw him? God only knows, she thought, and it was a prayer.

  She slept hardly at all. Finally, sometime before dawn, she threw herself across her bed and fell into an exhausted shallow sleep. Awakening scant hours later, when day was breaking, she dragged herself up. She had to go back to the newspaper and do what had to be done.

  She unlocked the door to the building and let herself in. Pete and Timmy wouldn’t be in until later. She was glad. She needed time to be alone. The place smelled strongly of ink, machine oil, and scorched coffee. Checking, she found she had left the coffee pot on the stove and the remains in it had burned away.

  Mindy went to her desk, moved the pile of papers from one side to the other, and sat down. She put her elbows on the surface, her chin on her fists, and sat there staring at nothing. Nothing registered, but the agonizing pain that had wrung her out emotionally throughout the long hours of the night was still lodged so heavily in her chest that she could hardly draw a deep breath.

  Through the front window she saw Main Street, its early morning traffic moving in front of her unseeing eyes. Her mind had blocked out everything but the inevitable question. What was she to do about the poster she was now convinced was Wade?