Marna (20 page)

Marna sighed. "Yes, I do. More than I want to,
actually." She sat down on the hearth, facing Hertha.
"What am I going to do, Grandma? I'm afraid that
Caleb has ruined everything between me and Matt."

Hertha pulled in her feet and sat forward. "What do
you mean, Marna?"

"Matt's back, you know."

"No, I didn't know. I received a letter from him only
yesterday. That's why I'm out today. He wrote that he
was in the Ohio Valley, and that he liked it just fine."

"Well, he's not there now, unless he went back last
night."

In broken sentences, she filled Hertha in on what
had happened the day before. "He was so angry when
he raced away, Grandma. I don't think he'll ever come
back." She jumped to her feet and began to pace back
and forth. "And I'd like to know who that woman was
that was with him," she burst out. "She sat up there on
her big horse, smiling like a cat."

Hertha reached out and grabbed her leg as she swept
by. "Sit down, Marna," she said sharply. "You're
makin' me dizzy, dartin' back and forth that way."

Marna sat back down and stared gloomily into the
fire. Hertha gazed at her, pity in her eyes. She reached
across and patted the girl's knee. "First of all, honey,"
she said, "cats don't smile. They grin. Now, about the
woman, don't give her another thought."

"But, Grandma, Caleb said Matt has been living with
her."

"Never mind what Caleb said. He would say anything to gain his own ends where you're concerned. A
man never spends more than one night at a time with a
woman like Betsy. She runs a sportin' house at the post.
Matt does some tradin' with the woman once in a
while," Hertha added sardonically. "You might say
they are business acquaintances."

Relief shot into Marna's eyes. "Oh, Grandma, I'm so
happy to hear that. I was afraid Matt was in love with
her. She's awfully attractive."

"Yes, Betsy is a nice-looking woman. She's not a bad
sort, either. She's sent a lot of business my way, what
with her girls and the hunters who fight over them."

Marna looked interested. "You know her well, then?"

"I guess I know her as well as anybody. She's pretty
closemouthed about her past. Matt maybe knows her
a little better than most. But there's one thing I know
about her-she's a mighty unhappy woman." Hertha
glanced around the cabin. "By the way, where's Henry
and Dove?"

"They've moved into their own cabin. They wanted
to be alone, and after what happened with Matt yesterday, I know he won't be coming back. So this morning
I told them to go ahead and move. I might as well get
used to living alone." At the worried expression on her
grandmother's face, she hurried to add, "I have Matt's
hound, Jawer. He sleeps inside now. Besides, Henry
and Dove are going to come over every night and sit
with me until bedtime." She gave a short, bitter laugh.
"Henry says he's watching out for me until Matt comes
home. I feel like telling him he'll have a long wait."

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, and she slipped
to the floor to lean her head against Hertha's knee.
"Oh, Grandma, I can't stand the thought that I have
lost him forever."

Hertha gently stroked the shining hair, thinking that
the unhappy girl would be better off if the wild hellion
didn't come back. A man that proud and stubborn
couldn't bring happiness to any woman. But Marna
didn't want to hear this now. She needed the comfort of
encouraging words. She would have to work out in her
own mind and heart if Matt Barton was worth the
heartache he caused her.

Hertha raised the delicate face and wiped at the wet
cheeks with her callused hands. "Don't give up hope,
Marne. Matt will be drawn back to you. It will be
against his stubborn will, but he'll come back."

"I don't know, Grandma. He was so angry at me
yesterday."

"He'll get over it. Don't fret about it."

Somewhat heartened by Hertha's insistent assurance,
Marna dropped the subject of Matt, and they chatted
comfortably over coffee and cookies, happy to be together again.

"How is the old devil treating you?" Marna asked
during a short silence.

"That old reprobate," Hertha snorted. "He's still as
mean as a poisoned snake." She paused a moment.
"That ornery Corey has been hangin' round our place.
I don't trust him. I can't help but think you're the reason he's hangin' round with Emery."

"You must be mistaken, Grandma. Corey knows that

Matt, or Caleb, would shoot him if he lays a hand on
me.

"Nevertheless," Hertha insisted earnestly, "I want
you to promise me that you'll keep the door barred
night and day. I want you to promise that you won't
open it to anyone you don't know or trust. And don't
ever go out alone. Not even to the spring."

Marna assured her she would do as she asked.

The time passed all too quickly, and it was time for
Hertha to leave. As she fumbled with her coat, Mania
moved the stiff fingers aside and buttoned it for her.
Tying the scarf under the sharp, scrawny chin, a mistiness came into her eyes. "You be careful, Grandma,
you hear me?"

Hertha squeezed her hands and kissed her cheek.
"Ain't nothin' gonna bother me. You watch out for
yourself."

When Mama would have stayed in the open doorway
while Hertha laced on her snowshoes, the old woman
scolded, "Go on back to the fire. Do you want to catch
your death out here?"

Marna smiled, but stepped back inside and closed
the door. It was a waste of time to argue with Grandma.
She moved to the window and waved as Hertha
clumped by in the cumbersome snowshoes. She watched
until the forest swallowed the frail, bent body.

Marna was about to turn away when her attention
was caught by a movement at the edge of the clearing.
Peering closer, she made out the figure of a man. Her
first instinct was to grab up Henry's rifle and send a
shot his way. Not to kill him, but to scare him away.
But as she continued to study the man, she decided that
he was quite harmless. He even looked sad somehow,
leaning loosely against a tree.

Forgetting Hertha's warning, she opened the door
and walked out on the porch. On seeing her, the man
straightened up and moved toward the cabin. As he
drew near, an unexpected fluttering stirred in her
breast. There was something so familiar about the big
figure.

The stranger stopped at the bottom of the single step,
and for a long moment they studied one another. Finally Marna spoke. "May I help you? Are you looking
for someone?"

The man smiled and shook his head. "No, miss, I'm
not. To tell you the truth, I'm new around here, and I
get lonesome. I get tired of talkie' to myself."

Warming to his friendly manner, Marna laughed
lightly. "I talked to myself all the time when I was a
child."

"You know somethin'," the stranger laughed back,
"I used to do the same thing." His eyes took on a mock
somberness. "But it's not the same when you grow
older. People stare at you, and pretty soon there's a
rumor goin' round that you're woods queer."

Marna's laughter pealed out. "I've been called that,
too. And not so long ago."

The man held out his hand to her. "My name is Jake
South, miss."

Gripping his hand firmly, Marna answered, "I'm not
a miss, Jake. I'm Mrs. Marna Barton."

"Well, now, what about that," Jake smiled. "I think
I met your husband recently. He called himself Matt" Marna's eyes sparkled. "That's him." She stepped
back to the open door. "Would you like to come in and
visit awhile?"

"I was beginning to think you weren't goin' to ask
me," Jake teased, allowing her to enter before him.

While he removed his hat and coat, Marna pushed
the coffeepot closer to the flames. "How would a cup of
coffee hit you?"

"It would hit me just fine. I'm chilled to the bone."

Marna pulled the rocking chair closer to the fire. "Sit
down and tell me how you met my husband."

Jake eased his big bulk into the chair and took a pipe
from his shirt pocket. When he looked at Marna inquiringly, she was puzzled by his look. Then slowly it came
to her that he was asking permission to smoke in the
cabin. Her face flushed pink with embarrassed pleasure.
Not even Caleb had showed her that consideration.

She hurriedly nodded her head.

When Jake had the pipe going to his satisfaction, he
leaned back in the chair and recounted his meeting with
Matt. "I met Matt about fifteen miles from here. He
had an arrow in his back and a redskin ready to plunge
a knife in him."

Marna gasped, and Jake became solicitous when he
saw her whitened face. "I'm sorry, Marna. I thought
you knew. Didn't you see his wound?"

Marna shook her head woodenly.

Jake studied the sad, beautiful face. What kind of
marriage did she have? How could she have not seen
the ugly red scar on Matt's back?

"Where is Matt?" he asked suddenly.

Avoiding his eyes, Marna stammered that he was
most likely out setting his traps.

Jake continued to watch her secretly, growing angry
at the pain in her eyes. His opinion of Matt was dropping sharply. It was plain he hadn't been near his wife
since his return.

Jake's eyes narrowed as he remembered something.
On his way through, back at the post, he had seen a
horse that resembled Matt's tied in front of the whorehouse. He hadn't been sure then because of the distance
and the trees. But that's where Barton must be. The big
hands lying on the chair arms doubled into fists. On his
way home he would stop at that place and beat the
living hell out of the hunter. The rotten no-good, to
leave a beautiful girl like this so that he could go wallow in bed with some slut.

The coffee began to steam, and Marna rose and took
it from the fire. She smiled at Jake. "Are you ready?"

The cookies were still on the table, and she pushed
them toward him. "Have a cookie."

Jake picked one up and bit into it. Its flavor brought
a sad, gentle light to his eyes. "My wife used to bake
cookies just like these."

Marna looked up in surprise. "She did? I thought my
grandmother was the only one who had the recipe.
There's a special herb in them, you know."

Jake stirred uneasily and mumbled, "Is that so?" He
sipped at his coffee, then set the cup down. In a voice
carefully controlled, he asked, "Who is your grandmother, Marna?"

"Her name is Hertha Aker."

Jake kept his eyes lowered. "Is she still alive?"

"Oh, yes," Marna smiled. "She is very much alive.
Grandma is like the old oaks around here. She draws
her strength from the soil. The people around here call
her old Hertha, the medicine woman. Everyone loves
her."

For the next half hour Jake slowly and carefully
drew from Marna facts on her grandmother. He learned
that Marna had come to Kentucky when she was just a
baby and that Emery still lived and was meaner than
ever, if that was possible. He also managed by indirect
questioning to learn where Hertha lived, and how to get
there.

Darkness entered the room without either of them
noticing it. The newly created shadows hid the somberness, and sometimes pain, that lay on Jake's face as
Marna talked. What a hard life she and Hertha had
lived.

A sudden knock on the door startled them both. "My
goodness," Marna exclaimed, "the sun is down."

She rose and, looking at the flickering flame in the
fireplace, said, "Jake, would you put some wood on the
fire while I answer the door?"

Henry and Dove, along with Caleb, stood shivering
on the porch. "Why are you sittin' in the dark, Marna?"
Caleb asked, walking past her.

He started and stared angrily at the man straightening up from the fireplace. Matt was back. But when
Marna lighted a candle and the wood blazed up, he saw
his mistake.

Caleb eyed Jake suspiciously. "Who's your visitor?"
he asked, his usually soft voice now hard and sharp.

Marna shot him a frowning glance and moved to
stand next to Jake. "This is Jake South, a new friend of
mine."

Henry shook hands warmly, and Dove smiled
shyly. But Caleb barely nodded his head, ignoring completely the outstretched hand. A smile tugged at Jake's
lips. The young rooster was in love with Marna and
was jealous as hell.

Dove set a pot of still-steaming stew on the table. "I
brought supper tonight," she said softly. "Henry shot a
fine young deer this morning."

Marna lifted the lid and sniffed. "It smells delicious."
She turned to Jake. "Stay for supper, will you, Jake?"

Jake shook his head and reached for his coat. "Another time, Marna. I have some business to take care of
at the post."

Marna walked with him to the door. Holding out a
slim hand, she said, "I really enjoyed our talk. Will you
come again soon?"

Ignoring Caleb's scowling face, Jake answered that
he would come again next week.

The door closed behind him and he took a deep
breath. After fifteen years of searching, he had found
his daughter.