The Ranch Girls and Their Heart's Desire

Captain MacDonnell possessed only a small estate of his own, but Olive had inherited wealth from the grandmother who had appeared so mysteriously in her life during the year spent by "The Ranch Girls at Boarding School." Moreover, Captain MacDonnell and Olive apparently cared only for each other, for Captain MacDonnell's art, and the effort to forget his injury in the war in his new work and life. The truth was that a large part of her fortune Olive had devoted to the establishment and upkeep of an Indian school not far from the neighborhood of the Rainbow ranch. She and her husband preferred to live out of doors in a tent in the western country whenever the weather made it possible, partly because of Captain MacDonnell's health and also that he might constantly study the western types and scenes which he was painting to the exclusion of all other subjects.

Frieda and her husband, Professor Henry Tilford Russell, were not rich; in fact, Professor Russell, having resigned his professorship at the University of Chicago, was at present making no income. Yet his parents were wealthy and adored Frieda and her little girl, and moreover, Professor Russell was at this time engaging in scientific experiments which might bring him fame and fortune or else achieve no result of importance. An expert chemist who had made several valuable discoveries during the war, Professor Russell believed that he had earned a year's holiday at the ranch and the opportunity to indulge in one or two of his private hobbies. So Jim Colter had offered him one of his small unused ranch houses in a comparatively isolated spot where the Professor could conduct his experiments with danger only to himself.

Frieda worried over this possibility, but in the main allowed her Professor husband to have his way, having found out that without his work he was restless and miserable. There was a new Frieda in her relation to her husband following their disagreement and reconciliation told in "The Ranch Girls and Their Great Adventure," and the birth of their little girl. Now Frieda seemed to care only for her husband and child, and had become an almost too punctilious married woman and housekeeper in that she wished everyone else to conform to her ideas.

Money problems therefore did not at this time trouble Frieda, whose interest was concentrated in her little girl's health and in her husband's success, not for any possible wealth it might bring them, but that he might enjoy the honors Frieda felt so sure he deserved. In the meantime she had her own income and knew that at any moment Henry's mother and father were more than anxious to supply any of their wishes or needs.

So it was a little cruel that Jean, who cared so much for money, was the only one of the Ranch girls to endure not alone the pinch of a present poverty but a painful uncertainty with regard to the future. In fact, during the weeks of the reunion of the Rainbow Ranch Girls, Jean Merritt had been under a good deal more of a strain than the others dreamed, for, except for her few general remarks to Olive and Frieda, she had made no mention of her anxieties.

Ralph Merritt had accompanied his wife and little girls to the ranch and remained with them a few days. Afterwards he had gone away, announcing that he had important business which must be looked into, but that he might come back at any time. There was nothing exceptional in this, as Ralph's interests had always required that he move about from place to place, seeing a number of men who oftentimes wished him to look at a mine before agreeing to undertake the engineering work in connection with it. At present among the interests that called Ralph away was the discovery of a gold mine concerning which his advice was desired.

Ralph Merritt was a decided favorite with Jim Colter, the former manager of the Rainbow ranch and one of its present owners. Among the husbands of the four Ranch girls he always had liked Ralph best. But even he had not suspected that Ralph was in any difficulty, since the younger man had said nothing which might cause one to suspect the fact.

One day, about a week after the visit from Mrs. Marshall, a note arrived asking that the former Ranch girls drive over to her home and have tea with her and a few of their neighbors.

At first Jack insisted upon declining the invitation, saying that she had not been out of mourning for any length of time and felt a hesitancy in meeting strangers. But Frieda protested, declaring her sister must accept or appear unfriendly. Mrs. Marshall had stated that her other guests would be neighbors, some of whom Jack had known as a girl, and the others she should learn to know as she contemplated living at the ranch. So Jack had yielded as she ordinarily did to Frieda in all small matters, in a way trusting Frieda's judgment rather than her own, besides not wishing to appear selfish. Without the subject being mentioned between them again, Jack understood that her sister wished her to counteract if possible a former unfortunate impression.

But Jean Merritt's refusal of the invitation was more unexpected and more determined, as usually Jean welcomed every social opportunity. However, she had a much better excuse to offer than Jack. She announced that she had received a letter from her husband saying that he might be expected to reach the ranch some time during the afternoon chosen by Mrs. Marshall, for her tea party and so there was no question but that Jean must not be argued into leaving home if she preferred to remain rather than run the risk of not being able to greet her husband upon his arrival.

Apparently in her usual state of mind, Jean helped the other girls to dress, talking to Frieda about a number of casual subjects and walking half way toward the lodge to meet Jack, who came up to the big house a little earlier than the hour for starting. Senator and Mrs. Marshall's summer home was only a few miles away in the direction of the city of Laramie.

After the others had gone and Jean was alone in her own room, her nervousness began to reveal itself first in a number of small ways. Restlessly she walked up and down her large and beautiful bedroom, which had been especially designed for her as a girl when Rainbow Castle was built after the discovery of the gold mine and before the marriage of any one of the four Ranch girls. The room was upholstered in rose, Jean's favorite color, with cretonne hangings of rose and white and a low couch by the window filled with cushions of the same material. The rooms set apart for Frieda, Olive and Jack in the big house were kept as nearly as possible as they had been arranged in the old days and Frieda was at present occupying her own apartment. But Jack had never loved the new place as she had the Rainbow lodge of the days before their fortune, and moreover preferred her own private establishment. Olive and Captain MacDonnell chose to enjoy more freedom and seclusion in their tent than had they lived with the rest of the family.

This afternoon Jean for a time made no pretense of sitting down. When the motor had disappeared down the avenue of cottonwood trees she continued to walk up and down, now and then glancing out her open window. Ralph had written that no one was to attempt making an effort to meet him, as he was uncertain upon what train he would arrive. He would either find some one to drive him over to the house or else telephone.

Jean had not dressed since lunch, yet her costume chanced to be a pretty brown skirt and a cream voile blouse, open at the throat and rather unusually becoming.

However, in the midst of her restless movement, stopping for an instant, she gazed at herself in the mirror with distinct disfavor.

"I am afraid I am losing the small claim I once had to good looks," she announced to herself with a frown of disapproval. "Certainly I am the least good looking of the four of us! I wonder if Jack is the beauty these days or Olive? Frieda is pretty, but she has not the air or the distinction of Jack, or Olive's rare coloring. Oh, well, I suppose I ought not to mind except for Ralph's sake! Yet if Ralph only brings home the good news I expect him to bring, I know I shall become a more attractive person! Sometimes I am afraid I have made things harder than I intended, yet Ralph knew my weakness before we married. He understood that I cared more for worldly things than I suppose one should. Oh, at the time we were engaged perhaps I did seem to care less for them and to think only of our life together, but one can't always live up to the best in one. Now I do intend to be more loving and considerate."

Rapidly Jean began changing her simple costume for an afternoon dress, a rose-colored crêpe de chine, by no means new, but one which her husband especially liked. And as Jean dressed, in spite of the fact that pallor was usual with her, a warm, cream-colored pallor extraordinarily attractive with her dark-brown hair and eyes, this afternoon her cheeks flushed to a deep rose. At the same time her eyes turned from the mirror to the window, hoping she might see her husband driving toward the house. Her ears also were listening for the sound of a telephone which might announce the fact that Ralph was at the station waiting to be sent for. She had decided not to drive over to meet him herself, as she would prefer to hear the news he must bring when they were alone.

It could not be possible that the news would be bad news! Jean put this idea away from her at once. This could not be! Ralph had been so sure of the new gold mine in which he had lately invested almost everything they possessed. Perhaps he should not have made the investment before examining the mine himself, yet he had not been able to wait. The owners had insisted that he must take the same chance along with them or they would find some one else to make the investment. If the new mine was what they hoped and believed, large fortunes would accrue to them all; if not Ralph Merritt must share the fortunes of war.

The afternoon passed, yet Jean continued to await in vain the appearance of her husband or the sound of the telephone. Not once did it ring during the long hours. Four o'clock and then five and still no Ralph. "After all, it would have been wiser to have gone with the others to Mrs. Marshall's tea, as it would have been far more interesting, and she would have felt less nervous than waiting alone," Jean concluded.

Then by and by, woman like, Jean began feeling aggrieved. If Ralph were unable to return home as he had anticipated why had he not telegraphed? Surely he must appreciate her anxiety!

Picking up a magazine, Jean dropped down upon the couch by the window, attempting to read. At first she found it impossible to concentrate her attention, but later became fairly interested.

A quarter of an hour after, her door opening abruptly, Jean looked up with a quick exclamation.

"Ralph!"

"What's the trouble, Jean?" Ralph Merritt demanded with an irritation in his voice and manner most unusual with him, "I have been trying to telephone the house for the past two hours and finally gave up and have walked over from the station – three or four miles, isn't it? It felt like ten. Seems as if some one might have been interested enough to answer the telephone, especially as I wrote you I'd try to get the house in case I could not find any one to drive me."

"But, Ralph, the telephone has not rung, I have been listening and expecting to hear it all afternoon. The connection must be broken. Yet what does it matter, now you are at home? What is the news?"

"Matter is that I am dead tired," Ralph Merritt answered, flinging himself down upon the couch Jean had just vacated. His shoes were covered with dust, his face and hands were soiled, his clothes rumpled. In a flash Jean thought of the Ralph who had returned to the ranch in this same condition a number of years before and of their interview together on the porch of the Rainbow lodge. Ralph had promised her then never to speculate again, never to risk his hard earned money in a gamble, which is all that speculation is. Then Jean put the memory quickly away from her, as there could be no reason to recall it upon this occasion.

She was standing looking down upon her husband.

"Tell me quickly, Ralph, things are all right; they must be," she argued, her voice hoarse, her eyes having a peculiar hard brightness unlike their usual velvety softness.

"Think I would not already have told you, Jean, if they were?" Ralph Merritt answered. "Suppose I would have spoken first of being tired, although I am tired straight through, if things had worked out as we hoped? The new mine is not worth the money it has required to buy the machinery. It is my fault. I should have known better and taken more time to consider and investigate. I was suffering from the same trouble that's taken hold of a good many young American fellows these days, trying to get rich in too great a hurry. I am sorry, chiefly for your sake, Jean dear, and the little girls, but more for you because the little girls won't mind seriously. I'll be able to make a living all right, but for a while I'm afraid not a big one, and these are hard times to make money go very far. I have an offer to go into New Mexico and look over another mine, and if it's any good I am to have the job of engineer."

Ralph was now sitting up, his look of fatigue and discouragement a little less apparent as he continued to talk. He was a splendid looking young fellow, a typical American with a fine, clear-cut face, a strong nose and a sensitive mouth. The eyes he turned toward Jean were wistful at this moment.

But Jean was white with disappointment and anger.

"The old story with you, Ralph, always something in the future, nothing for the present. I trust you are not expecting the little girls and me to go with you on your wild goose chase into New Mexico. I suppose when I tell Jim Colter and Jack that we have not a cent to live upon, they will allow us to remain at the ranch for a time anyhow. If I were only as clever as Jack perhaps I might be able to support the family without your help. I have little faith left in you."

CHAPTER VII

THE TEA PARTY

"Jack, you will try to make yourself as agreeable as possible." Jacqueline Kent laughed: "Frieda dear, don't I always try? And is it fair of you to blame me when I am unsuccessful? But I know you want me to be as staid and well behaved this afternoon as if I were the Dowager Lady Kent, in order to conquer the reputation I seem already to have acquired in the neighorhood. Do they think me a kind of wild west show? Well, I will make my best effort."

The motor in which Olive, Frieda and Jack were driving had by this time entered the grounds of the summer home of Senator and Mrs. Marshall. The house was a big frame building with a wide porch filled with attractive porch furniture and shaded by striped awnings of brown and yellow. The afternoon was a warm and lovely one and apparently the guests were preferring to remain out of doors, as several of them were wandering about in the yard before the house and a number were seated upon the veranda.

As the motor from the Rainbow ranch stopped, Senator Marshall himself, accompanied by Peter Stevens, came forward to greet the newcomers. He spoke cordially of his pleasure in seeing them to Frieda and Olive, but his attention was attracted by Jacqueline Ralston Kent, whom he had known as a young girl.

Senator Marshall was a middle-aged man of distinguished appearance, over six feet tall, with white hair, bright blue eyes and an aquiline nose. Ordinarily his expression was one of good-humored tolerance. Yet Senator Marshall had the reputation for being a dangerous enemy and a man of strong will whom no one dared oppose upon a matter of importance. Notwithstanding the fact that his wife was feared by her neighbors as a woman whose authority no one was allowed to dispute, it was said that, although her husband gave way to her in all small issues, in larger ones she was compelled to do as he wished.

To-day Jack was wearing an afternoon dress of black tulle over black silk, and a large black hat, which made her skin appear exceptionally clear and fair and her hair a deeper gold brown.

"It was kind of you to come to see us the other afternoon, Mrs. Marshall, and I am sorry to have missed you," Jack said a little shyly a few moments later, when Senator Marshall had taken her to speak to his wife, leaving Peter Stevens to follow with Frieda and Olive. It was a misfortune from which Jacqueline Ralston had suffered as a girl and which she never had entirely conquered, that she was apt to feel less at ease with women than with men, as if they understood her less well and criticized her more severely.

Now as Mrs. Marshall returned her greeting, although perfectly polite and cordial, Jack had an instinctive impression that the older woman saw something in her which she did not like, or else had heard something previously which had prejudiced her.

"I am glad to meet you at last, Mrs. Kent. Considering the fact that you have been in the neighborhood so short a time I seem already to have heard a great deal of you."

If there was no double meaning in the words which were simple in themselves, nevertheless Jack flushed slightly.

"But I am not a stranger in this neighborhood, Mrs. Marshall. I knew your husband a long time ago when my father was alive and I was a little girl trying to help manage our ranch. I don't think I forgave you for many years, Senator Marshall, because you were one of the lawyers on the other side when we had a difficulty over the boundary line of our ranch."

"No, you were quite right not to forgive me, but remember you won the case and I lost, so that should make it easier for you to forgive and forget. I am sure I shall never have the bad taste or the poor judgment to take sides against you a second time upon any subject."

Smiling, Jack glanced around her. Seated upon the porch were half a dozen or more persons whose faces were dimly familiar, some of whom she had not seen in a number of years, others fairly intimate friends, and a few complete strangers.

Leading her about the circle, Mrs. Marshall introduced her to the persons whom she had never met and Jack herself paused to shake hands and talk to the others.

There was something in her manner which the older woman observed with a sensation of envy, never having seen anyone before apparently so sincere and straightforward as Jacqueline Kent.

An hour later Jack found herself at one end of the long veranda surrounded by a group of half a dozen persons including her host.

"It is growing late, I am afraid we shall soon have to say farewell," Jack suggested, looking about to discover Frieda and Olive. She had done her best to make herself appear as agreeable as possible according to her sister's direction, but already she was a little tired and anxious to be back at the ranch, seldom really enjoying conventional society as she believed she should.

"But you must not think of leaving us, Mrs. Kent, until you have seen my son," Senator Marshall insisted. "He was forced to go to Laramie this afternoon upon some business for me, but I promised to keep you until his return. I suppose you don't realize that the girls in the neighborhood are already beginning to be a little jealous of you, now that you have the reputation of being the best horsewoman in the state. I am glad you are not a young man instead of a young woman, or you might become Stevens' or my political rival some day. Do I hear correctly that you mean to resume your American nationality as soon as you can go through the necessary formalities?"

Jack nodded.

"Yes, Mr. Stevens has been helping me, telling me what I must do. Yet I think it is not gallant of you, Senator, to suggest a woman has no chance in politics in Wyoming, the first state in the Union to allow women the vote."

Senator Marshall leaned back in his chair, eyeing Jack with a smile.

"So you are thinking of playing Lady Nancy Astor in the United States? Who knows but the idea is a good one. If the British Parliament accepted an American woman married to a British peer, I don't see why an American woman married to an Englishman, resuming her former allegiance to her own country because she loves it best, would not make a first-class member of Congress, perhaps defeat you, Stevens."

"Why not you, Senator, if Mrs. Kent is elected to office from Wyoming? For that matter, I do not see why she should not have the highest honor in the gift of the state."

As the two men were joking with one another, Jack rose and at the same instant saw a young man of about twenty-one coming hurriedly across the porch in their direction.

She held out her hand at once, recognizing him as John Marshall, Senator Marshall's son, although never having met him at any time.

"I am so glad you have not run away, Mrs. Kent, I want to ask you a great favor. I hear you can beat any ranchman in Wyoming swinging a lasso. Try it with me some day, won't you? It is great sport, but I've yet to see a girl outside the circus or a wild west show who is any good at it."

Absurd under the circumstances, yet Jack blushed furiously and then laughed:

"Am I never, never to cease to hear of my ridiculous exploit? You see, Mr. Marshall, I thought I was safe from observation that day, or perhaps it is more than probable I did not think what I was doing at all. And since that ten minutes of simply having a good time and trying to find out if I had forgotten what I learned as a girl, I have heard of little else. But you are mistaken in thinking I have any great skill with a lasso. I have forgotten the little skill I once possessed."

"But you will let me see you attempt it again? It is the greatest sport in the world, beats tennis or baseball, or even polo. The girls in this part of the country are either afraid or else insist lassoing isn't ladylike or proper, some funny nonsense! A good many of them say it was shocking of you and that no well-bred girl would ever have been alone with a lot of cowboys watching their contest, let alone taking part. But I – "

"See here, don't you think you have said enough, John?" Senator Marshall protested.

But Jack only laughed and held out her hand.

"I deserve nearly anything that may be said of me, but I thought I had come home to live in the west where one did not have to be conventional. Apologize for me, won't you? Yes, I'll ride with you with pleasure if you don't mind my bringing Jimmie and several little girls along to act as our escort. You see, I ordinarily ride with them every afternoon. I do wish we could try the lassoing, but I am afraid I don't dare."

"Still, you will some day. I've an idea you would dare anything that you thought the right thing to do," John Marshall added so enthusiastically and making so little effort to conceal his admiration for Jacqueline Kent, who was several years his senior, that the group of older people about them laughed.

A few moments later, thrusting his father and Peter Stevens aside, he insisted upon seeing Jack to the motor and handed her in with amusing and most unnecessary gallantry, as she was more than able to look after herself.

Ten minutes later, leaning back in the car with her eyes closed, Jack demanded:

"Were you pleased with me this afternoon, Frieda Ralston Russell? Goodness knows, I am tired enough with the struggle to be agreeable! I wonder why society wears me out and I can be outdoors and busy all day without fatigue."

"You got on pretty well, Jack, only I was not with you all of the time and don't know everything you said. I do hope you said nothing indiscreet; but I am afraid Senator Marshall and his son liked you better than Mrs. Marshall did, and that is a pity."

Jack yawned.

"Olive, was there ever so much worldly wisdom possessed by any one person as by Mrs. Henry Tilford Russell? I am sorry if you think Mrs. Marshall did not like me, but she cannot be blamed for the fact and neither can I. As for the son, John Marshall, he is a nice boy, nicer than his father. I don't know why, but I never altogether trust Senator Marshall. However, I am talking nonsense; one talks so much nonsense at a tea party it is hard to stop immediately after. I hope Ralph is safely at home by this time. I was sorry Jean was not with us. It is so wonderful for the four Rainbow Ranch girls to be living together at the old ranch after all these years and all our experiences that I don't like our being parted except when it is unavoidable."