The Ranch Girls at Home Again

Now riding with Jacqueline Ralston over their great thousand-acre Wyoming ranch to seek for cattle or horses that had gone astray was apt to be fairly strenuous, and no one unaccustomed to riding should ever have thought of attempting it. Yet Olive had done the same thing dozens of times in the years when she had first came to live at Rainbow Ranch, and on starting out this morning had no idea of growing tired before her friend did.

The first part of their trip was easy enough, for although Jack cantered along fairly rapidly she made no detours, only keeping a careful lookout in all possible directions. For she had no thought of finding the lost mares and their young colts anywhere within the immediate neighborhood of that part of the ranch which was apt to be ridden over oftener than the more distant fields. And Carlos had been asked to make the few necessary excursions whenever a rise in the landscape or a group of trees or rocks made a possible hiding place.

But a short time before midday the three riders came to a distant part of Rainbow Creek, where the character of the ranch land changed and where there were frequent hummocks and sand hills and great boulders split into natural caves and canyons. This part of the creek had no connection with the Rainbow Mine but was sometimes used in an emergency as a drinking place for the stock, although the stock was not supposed to wander here without guidance, as there were many ravines and dangerous places where especially the young cattle or colts were apt to be injured.

Here the riding under Jacqueline's guidance became more difficult and fatiguing. For not only did she leave the ordinary beaten trail, but she made her horse pick his way along what appeared an utterly impossible track over rocks, in the deep loose sand, now following a partly dry creek bed and occasionally splashing through water so deep that it reached almost to her riding boots. For another hour Olive followed, not realizing her own exhaustion, but wondering why her breath should be coming in such short gasps and why her back should ache in such an unaccountable fashion.

Curiously enough it was Carlos who first discovered Olive's predicament. For the past ten minutes he had been riding as close by her side as was possible under the conditions, not speaking a single word, but examining her closely with his small, burning black eyes. And when Olive, without being conscious of it, turned a shade whiter, even then he did not speak to her but instead rode silently forward until he was opposite Jack.

"All women have not the strength of men!" he began sullenly. The girl stared at him in amazement, not guessing what he meant.

Then Carlos grew angry and his words came faster than usual. "If you think more of lost animals than of her whom you call friend, it is well that you should go on until she falls. Have I not often heard and now see with my own eyes that there are squaws who care nothing for their own sex."

Half rising in her saddle Jacqueline Ralston lifted her riding whip, and almost before realizing what she was doing she had struck the Indian boy sharply across his lean shoulders.

"You are not to speak of American women as squaws, Carlos. How often have Mr. Colter and I told you that you were never to do it? And, moreover, you are to understand that I will not endure your impertinence. What has happened to put you in so evil a mood?" Jack asked more quietly now, sorry for her own loss of temper. For she realized in a small measure just how keenly an Indian feels the degradation of a blow from an enemy, unless he is able to return it with increased vengeance. And Jack had no illusion about Carlos' attitude toward her. He had turned a kind of ashy white under his bronze skin and his body had quivered once and then become perfectly tense, not from the force of the blow, which had not cut deeply, but from his own passion.

However, before either the boy or Jack could speak again, Olive had ridden up between them, grieved and frightened over her friend's action and wondering what could have occurred between them in so short a time.

"Jack dear, what has Carlos done or said?" she demanded quickly. "It was not fair of you to strike him, knowing that he could make no defense."

Instantly Jacqueline Ralston felt her face flushing with a swift rushing of hot blood to her cheeks until her temples pounded and her eyes flashed. Never before in their entire acquaintance had she remembered being really angry with Olive. Yet had she not borne a good deal already that day and for several weeks beforehand in Olive's indifference and critical air toward her? Now in this trouble she had just had with Carlos, Olive was immediately taking the Indian boy's part without even asking her for an explanation. Nevertheless a second glance at her friend's face made her instantly control her own emotion, appreciating at the same time what Carlos' impertinent speech to her had meant.

"You are tired, Olive. I am so sorry," she replied at once, instead of answering the other girl's question. "I did not realize how hard we had been riding, or that you are out of practice after a year in New York while the rest of us were here at the ranch. We'll have luncheon and rest and then maybe you'll feel better."

Jack nodded curtly to Carlos to assist Olive in dismounting while she slid off her own horse without help. Then she put her arm about the other girl, leaving the boy to lead the three horses. In a little while she and Olive had found a flat rock shadowed by a cliff from the sun. Here Olive sat down while Jack opened up their luncheon boxes and made the necessary preparations. But all the time she was reflecting upon what she had best do or say to the Indian boy. She was sorry that she had struck him, although still extremely angry at his manner and speech to her. If Carlos had felt worried over Olive's exhaustion it would have been simple enough to have told her in a more polite fashion. The truth was that she and Jim were both getting extremely tired of the Indian boy's presence on Rainbow Ranch. She would talk over this incident today with her guardian and ask him if he felt that she owed Carlos an apology. If he did she would make whatever reparation she could and after that they would try and find another home for him. But at present she was still too annoyed to wish to have the boy near her.

"You can find water for our horses and tie them somewhere not far away, Carlos," Jack ordered, leaving Olive and walking a few yards across the sand to where the boy stood, still sullen and resentful in his manner. "Then ride on for another half hour and see if you can find any of the lost mares or colts. When you return we will have lunch saved for you."

And so Jack Ralston temporarily dismissed the difficulty confronting her. For in any case it was disagreeable to have Carlos staring at them while she and Olive ate, and she did not wish him as a companion at their luncheon.

Carlos' society could hardly have increased the discomfort of their meal. For Olive was either too weary or too vexed to wish to talk, and Jack in too strange a tumult of feeling.

Then suddenly, as the two girls were sitting there together in the warm, caressing sunshine, hardly more than a few feet apart and yet sundered by leagues of misunderstanding, it seemed to Jacqueline that she could no longer endure all that she was suffering for her friend, unless Olive made some sign that her sacrifice was worth while. For Jack made no effort to hide from herself, however much she concealed it from other people, that each day of her life she was learning to care more and more for Frank Kent, for his love and his complete understanding and sympathy with her temperament. She knew that she had many faults, but she also knew that Frank was aware of them and forgave them. However, there was one fault that she did not have and it was not fair that she should bear the ignominy of it. She would no longer hurt and confuse the man she cared for by her apparent inability to make up her mind.

Jack's full red lips closed more tightly than was usual to them as she lifted her head, showing the firm line of her throat and chin. Then she took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders and glancing with her wide open, heavily fringed gray eyes directly into the eyes of her friend.

Olive was more rested, was less pale, but was evidently still as much estranged from her. And though the conviction had come upon her suddenly, Jack felt convinced that this was the appointed moment when she must wrest the truth from the other girl. She hated herself for her own stupidity in not finding out by more subtle means and scarcely knew now what she intended to do or say. It was as if she stood on the bank of an icy stream with the shore of truth on the other side, a shore which by some method she must reach. Therefore, with Jacqueline Ralston's disposition, there appeared but one means. Boldly she must plunge in, no matter what the result.

"Olive dear," Jack began abruptly, not looking at her friend, but at a small smoke-colored cloud over in the western sky, "I know you are angry with me about Carlos and I am sorry. He was impertinent, but I don't suppose you would think that justifies what I did. But it is not about what happened just now that I want to talk. You have not felt like you once did for me for several weeks – not since Frank Kent came to the Lodge. Would you mind telling me why?"

To Jack's directness of thought and speech her friend by this time should have grown accustomed. And indeed until now Olive had always loved and admired Jack for it. But today she was tired and her head ached and this unexpected question had taken her completely by surprise. The girl's dark cheeks flushed richly and her ordinarily gentle expression changed.

"Jack, you are absurd!" she answered irritably. "What right have you anyhow to consider that my feeling for you has any connection with Frank Kent? What does Frank mean to me?"

Now if only Jack had been content with this answer or had possessed some of Jean Bruce's tact and resourcefulness! She had neither. So her gray eyes darkened and her face grew white and unhappy.

"Forgive me, Olive," she murmured, humbly enough for proud, high-tempered Jack, "but that is what I, oh, so much want you to tell me. For sometimes I have thought that perhaps you do like Frank just a little bit more than an ordinary friend. And if it is true, dear, don't you feel that we have been close enough to each other to have you make me your confidant?"

It was very gently put, after all, and therefore Olive should not have been so wounded or so angry. However, and perhaps because there was so much of truth in the other girl's suggestion, Olive was both hurt and embittered.

"You have not the shadow of a right, Jacqueline Ralston, to say a thing like that to me," she returned with the passion and protest of a too sensitive nature. "How dare you sit there and calmly suggest to me that I am in love with Frank Kent when you know perfectly well that he cares for no one in this world but you. Do you suppose that I have no pride and no self-respect?"

And then, dropping her head in her hands, Olive began crying, hardly understanding her own tears, so much were they a combination of pain and of petulance. For the questions she had just put to Jack were the very ones that she had so often asked herself. And if she had found no answer to them, how could any one else?

But Jack did not attempt making a reply. For a moment she was silent, feeling miserably conscious of the failure she had just made. For had she not merely succeeded in mortifying her friend without arriving one bit nearer the truth which she sought?

But by and by Jack laid her hand caressingly on the other girl's dark hair. "Don't cry, Olive please," she begged. "You know what a stupid person I am and how often Jean and Frieda think I do and say the wrong thing. Here comes Carlos and when he has eaten his lunch you must let him take you back to the Lodge. You are too tired to ride any farther and I can manage very well by myself, or else you can send one of the stable boys this way to find me."

Without making a reply Olive continued to sob, only now a little more quietly, and in the meanwhile allowing Jack to make all the arrangements for her return home. It was unfortunate perhaps that she also paid so little attention to the Indian boy, who was sitting within a few yards of her, pretending to eat. In reality he was either keeping his eyes fixed moodily upon her, or else turning them upon Jacqueline Ralston with such an intensity of dislike that had she been aware of it, she must have been vaguely disturbed.

A little later Olive and Carlos started home together. In farewell Olive simply nodded her head to Jack, showing no other sign of forgiveness or affection; but she had only ridden for a comparatively short distance when she was as bitterly sorry and as ashamed of herself as Jack had previously been, and at the moment would have liked to turn back. She realized that she had been both unreasonable and unkind. What could have been the matter with her? Surely her fatigue must have had something to do with it, for people were rarely sensible when over-tired. Jack had not intended breaking down the barrier of her reserve for no reason but idle curiosity.

Then suddenly Olive's hands tightened on her bridle reins and her black eyes softened. How unutterably blind she had been for so long! For was not Jack's recent question to her the keynote of the whole puzzling situation? Jack certainly must fear that she cared more for Frank than she should. Would this not perfectly explain her attitude toward him since the beginning of his love-making? Olive quickly recalled the final weeks of their visit in England, then Jack's repeated efforts to thrust her into Frank's society and so to evade him herself! Then since Jack Ralston's return to the ranch had she not resolutely refused to let Frank Kent come to see her until Olive was also at the Lodge?

Sudden and relieving tears rolled down the girl's hot cheeks, which she did not for the moment attempt wiping away. How like her quixotic Jack to refuse to accept her own happiness at the price of her friend's! And how near she, Olive, had come to permitting Jack to sacrifice all three of them to her mistaken sense of loyalty and love!

Well, tonight Olive intended straightening everything out by answering the inquiry to which she had refused to reply to before. For in the light of her present revelation had she not at last felt a weight lifting itself from her own heart and a clear vision come to her mind? Let her measure her affection for Frank Kent by that which she felt for Jacqueline. Why she loved Jack a hundred times better than she ever could Frank! Jack had been her first friend: all that she was she really owed to her. If only she did not have to wait an hour longer before making three persons happier than they had been in many weeks!

Half-way around Olive turned her pony's head. But no, she was too tired to go back to Jack and besides they could have no intimate conversation under the present circumstances. Moreover, it had been growing much warmer in this last half hour, in spite of the fact that every once and a while there were unexpected gusts of wind blowing the sand into her own eyes and her mare's. The truth was that she should never have consented to leaving Jack. She should have insisted on her going home at the same time with them. Ruth and Jim Colter would both be annoyed at the idea of Jack's riding about the ranch alone, and any one of the men whom she might send back to look for her would probably be several hours in searching and perhaps never discover her at all.

For the first time in half an hour Olive Van Mater glanced across at the boy, Carlos. He had not spoken a dozen words to her in the course of their trip, so how could she dream that all this while he had been turning over and over in his mind the bitterness of Jack's insult? Then not only was his animosity a personal one, but on coming back from the needless errand upon which he had been driven away, had he not found his one time Princess in tears and such sorrow that she had not yet ceased from grieving? Her trouble could have but one source. Perhaps Miss Ralston had even dared wound her in the same way that she had him! And then Carlos had clenched his teeth, continuing more rigid and doggedly quiet than before. For of course he should soon be revenged for both of them! The only thing was to wait until his opportunity came.

"Carlos," Olive said unexpectedly. "I am almost back at the Lodge now and will have no difficulty in going the rest of the way alone. But I wish you would go and find Miss Ralston. Tell her please to come home at once, that I want to speak to her about something most important. And I think you had better hurry, for I am a little bit afraid that a storm is coming up."

Possibly Olive had expected a demur. If so she was mistaken, for without replying the boy wheeled his horse and started back in the direction from which they had just come.

CHAPTER XVI

A DESERT STORM

PERHAPS no one except an Indian could have found Jack so swiftly, and yet Carlos was engaged in the search for her over an hour. For the girl had gone some distance beyond the place of their last meeting and still had found no trace of their lost stock.

She was vexed for a moment at Carlos' reappearance, but gave no sign. Indeed she managed to say "Thank you" when he briefly explained that he had taken Olive near enough home to have her make the rest of the journey without an escort and then that she had sent him back to continue the hunt. Not a suggestion did he give of Olive's real message for Jack to return home immediately.

A girl with Jacqueline Ralston's knowledge and experience of western life should have required no such message had she taken her usual normal interest in her surroundings. For there was a sufficient forewarning of what was approaching for her to have understood. Nevertheless, for once in her life Jack was almost completely oblivious of the landscape and of the conditions of the sky and atmosphere. For her conversation with Olive had made her more unhappy and puzzled than she had previously been, since she had surely succeeded only in making the tangle harder for any one of them to unravel.

Now and then, as she continued her ride beyond the end of the Rainbow Creek and into the broader sweep of their prairie lands, the girl almost forgot the original object of her day's excursion, only feeling that more than anything she desired to be outdoors and alone. So that instead of leading the way as she had done in the morning she now allowed the boy Carlos to take his own trail, following without much thought close behind.

By far the larger portion of the broad area of the Ralston ranch was cultivated land, to the extent that the fields beyond the Lodge were most of them planted with alfalfa grass and other grains according to their fertility. Occasionally there were barren spaces of land where the sands from the desert had settled too deeply for any growing thing, and as these were at the outermost edges of the ranch Jim Colter had left them undisturbed, waiting for a time when there should be less work nearer home.

Therefore when Jack suddenly discovered her horse ploughing heavily through one of these sandy stretches she realized that they were farther away from Rainbow Lodge than she had appreciated. And certainly it was now time to turn back. She was afraid that she could hardly manage to arrive at home before dinner time and that would mean a scolding from Jim, who would hardly consider the rescue of a few lost mares and colts a sufficient excuse for making the rest of them uncomfortable and uneasy.

Jack smiled a little ruefully, checking her horse and allowing him a few moments of rest. She had not even that good excuse to take home with her, for she had not seen a trace of the stray stock and had really scarcely looked for them since luncheon. But then Carlos must have been more attentive – she was really surprised at the boy's apparent interest since he rejoined her. He had taken the entire initiative. Even now he was some distance ahead and going too fast for his horse's strength in such difficult ground.

"Carlos, Carlos," the girl called as loudly as possible. Then she patted Romeo's neck with swift penitence. Ordinarily she was quick to remember the comfort of her own mount, but today she had been most extraordinarily selfish. However, it was odd that in spite of his long day's travel her horse did not seem to wish to stand still even for a moment. He kept pawing the earth, sniffing and turning half way round in his eagerness to start for home.

The mystery needed only a little time for solving. All afternoon in a subconscious fashion Jack had realized that the air was unpleasantly hot and stifling and that the sun had not been shining since luncheon. The little cloud which she had first noticed in the west, a queer funnel-shaped cloud, had been constantly growing larger. Of course it meant a storm, but it was still far enough away not to be immediately alarming. However, they must get home as soon as possible, and Carlos evidently had not heard her cry.