Marna (14 page)

He had felt some guilt at taking advantage of Betsy's
moaning state. But he wanted the mirror for Marna so
badly, he had deliberately held himself away from
Betsy until she agreed.

Anxious now to get back to Marna, he rose from the
bed and climbed into his clothes. Slipping on his moc casins, he leaned over and smacked Betsy's bare rump.
"Come on, woman, get out of my bed. I'll be takin' it
home now."

While Betsy grumbled and said he was heartless, he
grinned and left the room. In the main room he held a
low conversation with a homesteader whose wagon and
team stood hitched outside. The man agreed to help
dismantle the bed and haul it up the mountain.

As the bed was carried piece by piece through the
main room and loaded onto .the wagon, Betsy's girls
gawked wide-eyed. When the ornate mirror was brought
out and laid carefully on the feather mattress, they
exclaimed in unison, "Betsy, your mirror, too? What
will you do without it?"

Betsy gave her deep throaty laugh. "I can always get
another one." She walked over to where Matt sat on his
horse. With a smile curving her lips, she invited, "Come
again, hunter. Come anytime you need a piece of furniture."

Matt smiled back, a sudden, genuine liking for the
madam coming over him. "I'll surely do that, Betsy."
He leaned down and asked teasingly, "What if someday
I stop by and don't charge you?"

The smile left Betsy's lips, and she grabbed his leg.
"Is that a promise, Matt?"

He lifted the reins, starting the horse in motion. "I
wouldn't be at all surprised, Betsy."

The protesting creak of the wagon sounded loud in
the night stillness as it strained up the last hill. Matt
urged the stallion into a faster gait. Up there on the top
was home.

Home. How naturally the word came to him now, he
thought. Dispiritedly he hunched himself down into his
coat collar. The snug little cabin would never be home
to him again. Common sense told him he should put as
much distance as possible between him and Marna.
There was no future for them together.

The cabin loomed out of the darkness, and he directed a scornful laugh at himself. Who was he trying to
fool? He'd hang around as long as there was a breath of
a chance Marna might welcome him back.

The door opened, and Henry stood outlined in the
light. He stepped outside and stood at the edge of the
porch. His eyes widened in surprise and he cried, "By
God, Matt, you done it!"

Matt swung down wearily and stretched his stiff
back. "How's Marna?"

"Better. She's conscious part of the time now. Her
fever broke about an hour ago."

Matt pushed by the hunter, saying as he passed,
"Help the driver with the bed, will you?"

Inside, Dove slept curled before the fire. Matt's eyes
passed over her, anxiously seeking the pallet in the
corner. Marna lay in the same position he had seen her
last, and he wondered if Henry was mistaken about her
being better.

He moved softly across the floor and squatted down
beside Hertha. Surprisingly, her gnarled hand was
sweeping a brush through Marna's long hair. A pan of
soapy water sat on the floor, and he exclaimed,
"You've washed her hair."

"No need to whisper, Matt," Hertha said, her tone
carrying the relief she felt "Marna is going to be all
right. She's in a natural sleep now."

"Are you sure, Hertha? She's lying so still."

"Are you doubting me?" Hertha tried to speak
sharply. But the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her, and
Matt smiled.

"Sorry, Hertha. It's only that it seems too good to be
true. How long do you think she'll be laid up?"

The old woman continued to brush the damp hair,
pulling it into streams of golden brown. "She's young
and healthy. I'd say in a week she'll be up and around."

There was a scraping noise behind them, and Henry and the driver came bumping through the door. They
carried the large headboard between them. Her eyes
wide in wonder, Hertha scrambled to her feet and
rushed across the floor. Running her bent fingers over
the gleaming, polished wood, she breathed, "You got
her a bed, Matt."

Matt tried to hide the pride he felt, but only succeeded in blushing like a young schoolboy.

"It must have cost you a lot. What did you pay for
it?"

When he couldn't come up with an immediate answer, Hertha shot him a fast glance, then studied the
fancy bed closer and commented drily to herself, "A
whore's bed if ever I seen one." She looked at Matt
again and asked sarcastically, "Did you have to work
hard for it, Matt?"

Matt's face turned brick red. It was hard to fool this
old woman. "Look, Hertha, I'd appreciate it if you
don't tell Marna where it came from."

"Oh, I'll never tell, but I'm wonderin' how many of
your men will recognize it."

"Don't worry about them. They know better than to
say anything."

The pieces were all in the cabin now, and Henry
inquired, "Where do you want this set up, Hertha?"

Hertha moved to a short recess formed by the wall
and the side of the fireplace. "What about here? Do you
think it will fit? It's nice and warm in this corner. It
would be mighty cozy in the winter when the snow
and wind is blowin' outside. A couple could snuggle up
real good."

Matt gave her a reproachful look, but Hertha pretended not to see it.

The bed fit nicely. There was just enough room on
either side to enable Marna to make it up.

Hertha folded back the corner of the covers and gave
the pillows a last fluffing. Turning to Matt, she smiled like a pleased chad. "We can bring Marna to her new
bed now."

Together they transported Marna to the bed. As her
grandmother carefully arranged the covers over her
shoulders, Marna drowsily opened her eyes. Smiling
wanly, she murmured, "This feels so good, Grandma."

Hertha sat down on the edge of the bed. She said,
"Marna, honey, I've made a big pot of vegetable soup.
Will you have some with Matt here?"

The slender body stiffened. Matt, watching her
closely, was sure he had his answer about his wife when
she shook her head. She couldn't stand the thought of
his presence. He moved away from the bed and sat
down in the shadows. He couldn't hang around here
any longer. He owed it to Marna to get out of her life.
With him gone, she could get the marriage set aside and
find happiness with Caleb, a good and decent man.

When Hertha came and knelt before the fire and
began to dip from the pot hanging there, Matt moved to
squat beside her. He pulled what money he had from a
pocket, and when the old woman looked around at him,
he pushed it toward her.

"I'm gonna be pullin' out now, Grandma. I think
there's enough money here to get you through the
winter. I expect that as soon as the marriage papers are
put aside, Marna and Caleb will get together. Caleb will
provide for her good after that."

Hertha sat back on her heels, studying him. His face
wore its usual cold look, but the mental pain that
racked him shone dully in his eyes. Should she let this
proud man go without first trying to discourage him?
Would she be wasting her breath in reasoning with
him?

Quietly she asked, "You think that your leaving will
settle everything, do you?"

Matt looked away from her probing gaze. "It's the
only way, Grandma. I had my chance and botched it like a fool. Caleb loves her, and he had the guts to tell
her so. I'm not gonna hang around here and keep her
against her will."

"Are you afraid to stay and fight for her love, Matt?"
Hertha sternly challenged him.

Matt's head jerked up, and he stared at her like she'd
lost her mind. "Fight for her love? Are you crazy? She
can't stand the sight of me. A fat chance I'd have."

Hertha lowered her eyes to hide her amusement.
Then, as though coming to a decision, she shoved the
money into her pocket. She leaned over and picked up
the ladle. "Do what you think best, Matt." She waited a
moment, then asked, "Where do you plan on goin'?"

"I haven't given it much thought yet. I'll probably
push on farther west. I hear there's good trappin' down
in the Ohio Valley."

Hertha rose to her feet and held out a hand. "Take
care of yourself, son." She smiled at him warmly. "Will
you keep me informed where you are? I might have to
get hold of you later on to sign some papers."

Matt flinched, but he gave the bony fingers a squeeze.
"I'll keep in touch, Grandma."

He clapped his coonskin on his head, and with a
last lingering look at the sleeping figure, quietly closed
the door behind him.

Outside, Henry was struggling with the large mirror.
He grinned at Matt, and Matt wondered what he was
going to say to the older hunter. He hated like hell to
admit he had lost his wife's affections. Never before
had a woman turned away from him.

He laid a detaining hand on Henry's arm. "Would
you prop that thing against the wall there a minute,
Henry? I got something I want to say to you."

At the seriousness in his voice, Henry hurried to do
as he requested. Returning to him then, he asked,
"What's on your mind, Matt?"

Matt stared into the darkness a moment, then started
slowly to speak. "It's hard for me to say this, but I've been actin' the fool here lately. I've been too damned
proud and blind to realize how fortunate I was to be
married to that little girl in there. All my dumb brain
could think was that she's not pretty like all my other
women."

Matt continued. "Last night before the cat got her, I
hurt Marna somethin' fierce with my damnable tongue.
I said things to her she'll never forgive." He waited a
long minute, then said quietly, "I'm takin' off, Henry."

Henry gazed for a long time at the pain in his friend's
eyes. The big hunter suffered and wasn't ashamed to let
it be seen. Never had Henry liked and respected the
man more.

Matt stepped off the porch. "I gotta get away. At
least for a while. In the meantime I'd appreciate it if
you'd look after Marna and Hertha as long as they need
it. I'd like for Dove to stay, too. She has a good way
with Marna. If Corey gives you any trouble, shoot the
bastard."

Accompanying Matt to his stallion, Henry agreed
readily. "Of course I'll look after them, Matt But when
will you be back? It'll be trappin' time soon, and we're
gonna need you."

"No, you won't, Henry. Do like you always done
before. You can tell the men I left you in charge.
They'll listen to you."

Matt swung into the saddle and leaned down to grip
Henry's hand. "Remember, keep an eye on Marna.
Make sure that damn Corey don't hang around."

"I'll do that, Matt," Henry spoke over the lump in
his throat.

It wasn't until Matt was several yards away that
Henry realized he hadn't answered his question.
Through cupped hands he called, "How long you gonna
be gone, Matt?"

The stallion plunged into the forest, carrying his unheeding rider from view.

Hertha stood at the window, mentally echoing Henry's
words. When would Matt return? He would return, she
was sure of that. His pride and the dread of Marna's
rejecting him would keep him away for a while. But in
the end, his love for his wife would pull him back.

She glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping Marna
and thought, "I hope he's not gone too long."

She turned her gaze back to the moonlit clearing.
Everyone was so unhappy. There was poor Caleb, loving Marna just as strongly as Matt did, and unable to
do anything about it. He did not have Matt's wounded
pride, but he suffered the knowledge that Marna loved
her husband. And the Indian girl Dove, who now lay in
an exhausted sleep before the fire. What misery and
unhappiness she must have endured at the hands of the
brutish Corey. Why were men such as he and Emery
allowed to inhabit the world? she wondered wearily.

Hertha moved over to the bed. Shaking Marna's
shoulder gently, she urged, "Honey, I want you to wake
up long enough to eat some soup."

Marna stirred and nodded sleepily. By the time
Hertha had carefully rolled her over to her side,
doubled the pillow under her head, and ladled out the
soup, she was fairly awake. But when the last spoonful
was gone, her eyes were becoming heavy again.

Hertha smiled as Marna relaxed into a deep sleep.
The ground poppy seed was doing its job. She would
sleep for a couple of days, postponing the time when
she would begin asking questions about Matt.

Hertha laid the spoon in the empty bowl and rose to her feet Grimacing with the pain that shot through her
stiff joints, she hobbled to the table. Snuffing out the
candle, she undressed quickly, then crawled into bed
with Marna. She stretched her legs out in the feathery
softness and relaxed. It had been a long, tiring day.

Hertha was almost asleep when Henry entered the
cabin. Through heavy eyes she watched him shovel
ashes over the live coals, banking the fire for the night.
Then her eyes opened wider when Henry moved to
where Dove slept She raised her head. Was he going to
awaken that poor girl and crawl in beside her?