'Smiles' - Eliot H. Robinson (uplifting books for women .txt) 📗

I seen what I seen, an' thar haint no city man ergoin' ter come up hyar an' make trouble fer a gal uv our'n."

"Judd, it's you who are the fool. I don't admit your right to discuss this, or any matter, with me, but Rose is nothing to me but a very good friend. Besides, she's only a child."

"She's nigh onter old ernough ter wed," was the uncompromising answer. "An' ef she haint nothin' ter ye, the more shame on ye fer tryin' ter make her love ye, an' mayhaps break her heart."

"But I haven't tried to make her love me," broke in Donald impatiently.

"Then fer what did yo' put yer arms erbout her an' kiss her, like I seen ye through the winder awhile back, I wants ter know?" demanded the other, as he hastily frustrated Donald's attempt to step by him.

The man felt his own face flush hotly, and was angry over this visible display of feeling.

"I tell you she's only a child. I kissed her as I would any little girl of whom I was fond."

"Yo' love her, an' yo' haint the man ter say hit."

"Very well, then. Supposing I admit that I love her, what is it to you?" replied Donald, with a flash of heat.

"I loves her, too. I've loved her since she come ter these hyar mountains, a leetle baby; an' I don't calkerlate ter hev yo', er any city man, make a plaything uv her. Hit's man ter man, now. Air yo', er haint yo', a-goin' ter leave hyar, an' keep erway?"

"As I told you before, it's none of your business," replied Don shortly.

"An' es I told ye before, hit air. Now I tells ye thet yo' haint a-comin' back."

"That ... remains to be seen," Donald answered wrathfully as he stepped past Judd, this time unimpeded.

He had not gone more than a score of swinging strides, keeping the bristling dog close beside him, when he heard the staccato crack of a rifle, and simultaneously the high-pitched whine of a bullet past his head.

Once before, in the Maine woods, he had been an unwilling target, on that occasion for an overanxious deer hunter. Then he had sprung up, waving his arms and shouting a warning, but now instinct told him that the opposite procedure was the proper one, and he threw himself precipitately into the enveloping rhododendrons. As he did so, from the path above him came a derisive laugh which set his blood boiling.

It awakened in Donald all the blind, fighting spirit which, in gridiron days, had driven him with clinched teeth into the thick of the battering mêlée. He sprang into a crouching posture, face turned toward the taunting sound, every muscle taut, every nerve tingling, and with but one thought surging through his brain—the desire to charge back and attack Judd, barehanded.

Slowly the red demons of primitive passion vanished before the returning light of wisdom, born of maturity and the restraining power of civilization. He quickly realized that he had no right to make a fool of himself for the sake of such a cause, and in such a childish manner. His duty was paramount to the satisfaction of an atavistic impulse, and, placing a strong mental grasp upon his nerves, which cried for drastic action, Donald turned downward into the footpath again, and broke into a run.

Haste was doubly essential, for little time remained before the hour for the departure of his train, and, even in Virginia, it might leave according to schedule. As he crashed impetuously through a bush whose branches blocked the path, he heard again the laughter from above him and caught a new note therein—that of exultation.

Donald stifled an oath, while an additional reason for returning to the mountain burned its way into his heart.

On the path above, Judd deliberately blew the fouling smoke from his rifle barrel, turned about, and, with a satisfied smile mingling with the expression of hate on his lips, climbed back towards Jerry's cabin.

In its doorway stood Rose. The happy flush still lingered delicately on her cheeks, and her limpid eyes were full of a soft, dreamy light.

"What war yo' ershootin' at, Judd?" she cried, as the man came into view, carelessly swinging his long weapon.

"Et a pole-cat," was his brief reply, as he removed his broad straw hat and sank with the unconscious grace of a wild animal onto the stoop at her feet.

Neither broke the silence for several minutes, but the man scarcely took his burning gaze from the child's lovely face. At length she sighed ever so gently, and, seating herself beside him, dropped her firm chin into her cupped hands.

"Smiles," began Judd, with all the harshness gone from his voice, "I don't enjoy fer ter hear yo' sigh thet erway, er ter see ther fur-off look in yo'r purty eyes, 'cause I fears thet hit means thar's some one else then me in yo'r heart."

Instantly she sat up straight, and turned her eyes, full of surprise, upon him. "Why, Juddy!" she said.

"Ef hit's thet doctor man, I likes hit least uv all, Smiles," the man continued, speaking bitterly. "He haint come fur no good, leetle gal, an' I don't want fer yo' ter think on him."

"I reckon I thinks on whom I likes," she responded briefly.

"Don't go fer ter git angry with me, Rose gal. Hit aint thet I wants ter be selfish er onreasonable, but ..." Judd stopped. Words of passionate love trembled on his lips, but were held there by a barrier of inherited reticence in matters of the heart. Iron reserve and laconic speech were essentially typical of his breed; but, at length, the eager utterances strained against the fetter of his will, and broke them.

"I kaint speak as I desires to, Smiles. I fears I kaint make ye understand what's in my heart; but I've keered mightily fer ye, dear, ever since yo' war a smilin' leetle baby gal, an' now ... now yo'r most a woman grown, an' I love ye, want ye more come each new day an' each new night. Thar haint one ef them passes but thet I make excuse fer ter see ye, an' jest ther sight o' yo'r sweet face somehow kindles a light inside me that burns, 'thout scarcely dimmin', till I sees ye agin. Thet's ther reason I said what I done, a moment back.

"I jest kaint bear fer ter think uv yo' lovin' some one else then me. I ... I keers so much thet I believes I'd rather see ye dead then thet, Rose gal."

Fairly trembling with the sweep of his unloosed emotion, the reserved, strong-willed man paused, and, as the girl stood up hastily, she was trembling, too.

"Why, Juddy," she cried softly, distress in her voice, "I didn't rightly understand thet yo' felt thet erway. I likes ye, in course, but I'm only a leetle gal, an' I haint keerin' fer any one ... thet erway. I ... I don't enjoy fer ter hyar yo' say sech words ter me now, Juddy."

"I reckon yo'r right, an' I shouldn't hev told ye yet, Rose," answered the man, almost humbly. "I kin bide my time, but I wants ye ter know thet I feels es I does. I'm a-goin' ter keep right on lovin' ye more an' more, and, when yo'r older, I plans ter ask ye ter marry with me."

"I likes ye ... indeed I likes ye, Judd, but ... oh, please don't ever go fer ter do that. I kaint never marry ye, Judd."

The man stiffened, and his face grew black again. "I believes thet yo' air in love with thet doctor man, atter all," he shot out.

"I haint neither," cried the girl, angrily stamping her bare foot, "I does love him, but I haint in love with nobody, 'ceptin' grandpap."

"Yo' submitted ter his takin' ye in his arms an' kissin' ye," burst out the mountaineer.

"Judd Amos, yo'r a mean, spyin' sneak, an' I hates ye!" stormed Rose, while her eyes filled with angry tears.

"I didn't go fer ter spy on ye, Smiles," he protested, "I seen ye by chance. But, whether yo' love him er not, yo' might jest as well fergit him. He keered fer ye jest because yo' air er purty mountain flower, an' he haint never ercomin' back hyar ergin."

"He air, too," contradicted the girl rebelliously. "He air ercomin' back an' he's promised ter help me git edercation."

Judd laughed shortly.

"I warned him fair ter keep erway, an' p'inted my warnin' with a rifle ball."

Rose's eyes widened in horror.

"Yo' ... yo' means yo' shot him, Judd?" she whispered, with both hands pressed to her breast.

"Shot him? No. I didn't aim fer ter hurt him, an' 'twarn't in nowise necessary. I jest put a bullet past his head an' he run like a skeered rabbit."

"Taint so. He never run from no one," she cried staunchly.

"Wall, hit shor' appeared like hit ter me," was the gloating answer.

Feminine instinct gave Rose an intuitive insight into the real reasons which underlay Donald's apparent flight; but pride sealed her lips, just as she was on the point of explaining triumphantly that the doctor had been called back home that day, and that it was the following summer when he would return.

"Juddy," she said gently, after a moment, "yo' hed no reason fer doin' what yo' done. Hit war mighty wrong, but I fergives ye. I wants ter still be friends with ye. I wants ye ter help me, Juddy."

The last words were breathed softly, and the naïve appeal in her voice brought the hostile man quickly back to submissive and worshipful fealty.

"Yo' know thet I'd do enything in the world fer ye, Smiles," he answered simply.

"I believes thet yo' think yo' would, Judd, but I wonders ef, deep in yo'r heart, yo' really keers ernough fer me ter ... I kaint scarcely explain what I means. I reckon I air powerful ignerrant in speecherfyin'."

"I don't rightly know what yo' means, Smiles, but I give ye my promise ter do whatsoever yo' wants, ef hit takes my life," he declared earnestly, his former selfish desire to bend her will into compliance with his own for the moment yielding to his blind eagerness to prove his love.

Youthful and unsophisticated in worldly wiles as she was, the eternal feminine in Rose sensed her victory and power, and, still maintaining her half commanding, half tenderly appealing tone, she outlined her plan, for the accomplishment of which his aid was all essential.

Judd protested, pleaded and stormed—all to no avail. He felt himself like a man caught in a snare of his own weaving—a snare strengthened by fair, yet unbreakable, silken threads added by the child.

Finally, miserable at heart, he yielded, and departed with his hand tingling from the impulsive affectionate pressure of Smiles' fingers upon it. But, as the conscious thrill which it caused in his being lessened, his thoughts became immersed in gloom, through which no encouraging light made its way. He realized that he had lost the first battle for her heart, and the loss brought closer the dark spectre of ultimate defeat.