The Jeweled Spur (6 page)

“What school have you been thinking of?” asked her father.

“There’s a school in Omaha, a new school. I read about it in the newspaper last year.”

“Omaha? That’s not as far away as I’d feared,” Tom nodded. “What sort of a school is it? Can women attend?”

“Oh yes, they take women,” Laurie nodded. “The president is a graduate of Oberlin College, and he’s brought their methods to this new school.” Laurie’s face grew warm and her eyes sparkled as she explained the new venture. “It’s going to be a school for artists, painters, and writers. And one of the teachers is going to be Barton Sturgis!”

“And who is he?” Faith asked.

“Why, he’s a
writer,
Mother!” Laurie was shocked that neither of her parents had ever even heard of Sturgis. “He’s written the two best novels ever published in America. All the critics say so!”

After thirty minutes of listening to Laurie talk excidedly about college and this Mr. Sturgis, Tom finally interrupted her and said, “Well, reveille comes early. Let’s go to bed, Faith.” He kissed Laurie and held her a moment, saying, “I’ll miss you, you know.”

Faith kissed the excited girl and gave one word of caution: “Be very careful about this, Laurie. I can’t do it for you.” She smiled. “God doesn’t have grandchildren, you know—only children. So you must meet with God about this decision on your own. But you’ll be guided, I know that very well.”

When Laurie finally got into bed, she had never in all her life been less inclined to sleep. For what seemed like the entire night she lay there, trying to fall asleep, but the excitement was too much. Finally she drifted off—and dreamed of Ugly! But it was not the same—for in the dream, it was
she
who
was tied by a rope around her neck! And it was Ugly who was sitting just out of reach—with a train ticket for Omaha in his enormous mouth! Over and over he would come close, but when Laurie would reach out for the ticket, he would step back out of reach. Finally he
ate
the ticket—and Laurie found herself weeping bitterly into her pillow.

CHAPTER FOUR

Journey to Omaha

On the day Laurie received the letter of acceptance to Wilson College, she set a goal of taking Star with her. It would not be an easy battle, but she threw herself into convincing her parents that it
had
to be done. “I’ll be gone for at least two years,” she’d told them in her opening salvo. “It’s too far to come home, and you can’t visit me. I’ll be lonesome for all of you—but if I just had Star with me, it’d be a little bit like being home. . . .”

She had lost the initial battles, but like a good general, she had not given up. Her mother was adamant, but Laurie quickly saw a chink in her father’s armor. He himself loved horses, and she had used every tactic known to young women to convince her father to give her what she wanted most. She knew her father well enough not to try a direct assault, for he would have resisted that. Rather, she had done other things to win him, stopping to stroke his head as he worked over papers, just a light caress that would bring his head up so she could give him a warm smile.

In the days that followed, Laurie worked hard preparing his favorite dishes. She loved to bake, and got up early to prepare sweet breads and apple pies. And not a day went by but that she stopped by his office for a few minutes. Sometimes they would simply talk, but more than once she would wheedle him into taking a ride.

By the end of the first week, Tom Winslow had almost forgotten Laurie’s request to take the horse to Omaha. The
girl herself never mentioned it directly. Rather, she would sigh and run her fingers through his dark hair, saying, “I’ll have lots of time at school. There won’t be much to do there.” Or perhaps, “Some girls have a hobby, like sewing—but I never did anything like that.” Then as an afterthought, “—except ride, of course.”

As the regular dropping of water in a cave can build up a large stalactite, so it was that Laurie slowly crafted the mind of Tom Winslow. Finally, when her departure was only a week away, the two of them were riding back to the fort from one of their outings to talk. They paused long enough for Winslow to dismount and look at his mount’s front hoof, where he found a sharp rock. As he dug it out with his knife, Laurie slipped from her saddle and gave him a calculating look. When he straightened up, she said, “Daddy, I’m worried about Star.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Well, nothing now—but I won’t see him for two years.” Reaching up she stroked the smooth neck, and the horse bent down to get his muzzle stroked.

They made a pretty picture, Winslow thought, the sleek black gelding glowing with health serving as a perfect foil for the shining black hair of the young girl. Clicking his knife shut and slipping it into his pocket, he said gently, “Get fond of a horse, don’t you? I remember my first horse, a jug-headed roan named Mike.”

Laurie looked up at her father as he spoke, noting the fondness in his voice. Finally he said, “When he died, I just about wanted to die myself.”

“I feel that way about Star,” Laurie quickly said. “What if he should die while I’m in Omaha?” Her soft lips grew tense and she held to the horse’s neck possessively. “I don’t think I could stand it, Daddy! Being all alone and Star sick—maybe dying—!”

Winslow put his hand on her shoulder and pressed it gently. “Be pretty bad, wouldn’t it?”
She hasn’t had much,
he thought.
Don’t see why she can’t take the horse with her.

“Well, I don’t guess it’d cost too much to ship Star to Omaha—but it might be hard to find a place close enough to the college to board him.”

“Oh, Daddy!” Laurie’s squeal startled both horses, and she dropped Star’s lines and threw herself at her father.

“Hey now!” Winslow protested, almost knocked off balance by her sudden lunge. He held her with one arm, trying to control his own mount with the other, and when she looked up he saw such a light of joy on her face that he knew whatever the cost, it was worth it.

All the way home Laurie chattered about the arrangements, and when they got to the house, she ran inside, dragging her father by the hand, crying out, “Mother, Daddy says I can take Star to Omaha with me!”

Faith turned from the dishes she was washing to face the exuberant girl, a strange smile touching the woman’s lips. “Oh? How did that get decided?”

Laurie hesitated, then blurted out, “Oh, it was Daddy’s idea.”

“Was it now?”

Tom Winslow gazed down at Laurie fondly. “I’m glad I thought of it.”

Faith laughed aloud, but when Tom blinked and asked what was so funny, she shook her head. Later when she was alone with Laurie, she’d said, “Well, you got your way, didn’t you?”

“
My
way?”

“Don’t give me that innocent look, Laurie Winslow,” Faith shot back. “You know what I’m talking about.” Then seeing the apprehension in the girl’s eyes, Faith laughed and gave her a hug. “It’s fine with me, but it’s no surprise.”

“Why—”

“You could get that father of yours to cut off his foot if you set your mind to it!”

Laurie tried to look innocent, then giggled, and soon the two burst out laughing. “ ‘I’m glad I thought of it,’ he said,” Faith gasped. “Why, the poor man never knew what hit him!”

“Don’t tell him,” Laurie pleaded.

“I won’t,” Faith agreed. She touched Laurie’s cheek lightly and turned her head to one side as she gazed fondly at her. “I’ve been doing that to your father for years. Do you think I’d give the secret away?”

****

“I feel a little strange shipping my daughter off to school like this,” Tom Winslow said. “Now that the time for you to leave has come, Laurie, I’m sure going to miss you.” Trying to grin, he added, “I’ve always said you were a pretty little filly, but shipping you off in a railroad stock car—!”

Laurie was holding Star by the hackamore and stroking his neck, speaking in a soothing voice to the spirited gelding that disliked unusual settings. He snorted, tossed his head, and lashed out with his hooves, striking the sides of the car.

“Easy, Star—it’s all right,” Laurie whispered, holding his head down. Turning to give her father a quick smile, she said, “He’ll be all right, Daddy. He just has to get used to it.”

“Well, you can’t stay in here petting him for three days.” Winslow glanced at the horse, then shook his head. “Never heard of anyone taking their horse to school with them.”

Just then the brakeman passed by on his way to the caboose. The loose-jointed redhead stopped long enough to look admiringly at Star. “Now that’s one fine-looking hoss!” he remarked.

Winslow took a bill from his pocket and handed it to the young man. “Take care of that animal—and keep an eye on my daughter, too.” He grinned at Laurie, adding, “I’m sending them both off to college.”

The brakeman’s grin broadened as he pocketed the bill and nodded. “My name’s Monroe Whittaker, and I’ll shore watch out for both of ’em, Major. Any hoss thieves or Romeos try anything, I’ll bounce them right off the train!” The whistle uttered a shrill blast, and he said, “Guess you better get your goodbyes done, Major.”

Laurie loosed her hand from the bridle and put her arms around her father, holding him close, and for one moment, she was afraid. But knowing he would be quick to recognize any signs of apprehension, she drew his head down and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodbye, Daddy. I’ll write every week.”

“It’s hard to let you go, daughter!” Winslow’s eyes were troubled, and he shook his head sadly. “First time we’ve ever been separated!” He stepped back, reached into the inner pocket of his coat, and pulled out a small package. “A going-away present for you—just from your old dad.”

Laurie took the package and carefully removed the plain brown paper wrapping. A flash of brilliant red color caught her eye, and she blinked with surprise. What she held was a pair of beautifully wrought silver spurs—and in one of them was set a large brilliant ruby that winked as the sunlight touched it.

“Oh—Daddy!” Laurie whispered. “It’s from your ring that Grandfather gave you!” Tears misted her eyes, and she shook her head. “I can’t let you do it!”

“Too late now,” her father grinned. “I’ve had it long enough. Time for another Winslow to wear it.” He had gone to considerable trouble and expense to have the spurs made and the stone set in. But as he looked down at her and saw the pleasure on her face, he was glad. “Can’t have you going off wearing those old rusty spurs you sport around here,” he said. She threw her arms around him again and held him fiercely, her body trembling with suppressed sobs.

Suddenly another blast of the whistle broke the air. She lifted her face, kissed him, then, clutching the spurs, turned back to Star. The train lurched forward and gathered speed. Then Tom was gone. Laurie pressed her face against Star’s smooth neck. “We’re on our own now, Star,” she whispered.

Whittaker came back through the car ten minutes later and noted that the girl was still holding tightly to the horse. “First time away from home, miss?” he asked.

“Yes, first time.”

The brakeman took in the tense white line around the girl’s mouth and the stiff set of her shoulders.

“Well, the good Lord will take care of you, so don’t you fret.” He wanted to pat her shoulder, but was too wise for that, so he nodded and moved to exit out of the car.

The brakeman’s words were an encouragement to Laurie, and she pulled Star’s head down and kissed his smooth muzzle. “Hear that? Even the brakemen are for us, Star! We’re going to be all right!”

She moved to the slats that made up the side of the cattle car and watched the desert roll by, wondering what Omaha would look like. Even more than that, she wondered if she would be able to compete with the other students. Most of them had gone to fine schools, she suspected, while she’d learned on a dozen army posts under a rather eclectic set of teachers. But as the wheels clicked off the miles, she put her fears behind her.

“Like Monroe Whittaker says, Star—the good Lord is going to take care of us!”

****

“Miss Laurie—we’re comin’ into Omaha.”

Laurie awakened at the sound of Monroe’s voice and opened her eyes to see the lanky redhead bent over her. She had fallen asleep on a pallet she’d made of blankets on a pile of straw in the cattle car, and as she sat up, she blinked at him. “How long, Monroe?”

“Oh, ’bout half an hour. Thought you might want to wash up a little.” He grinned at her, adding, “Don’t want to start college with straw all over your hair, I don’t reckon.”

“Thanks, Monroe.” The brakeman had been exactly what Laurie had needed on the journey, and she’d become fond of him. He’d made it possible for her to stay with Star during the long trip instead of perching on one of the hard seats in the passenger coach. He had also seen to it that she’d gotten good meals at several stops. Twice he’d taken her to restaurants
during long stops and entertained her with tall tales about his home state of Tennessee. Even more welcome had been his quick intervention when a man wearing fancy clothes had tried to force himself on her in the passenger car. The man had had glossy black hair and bold eyes, and had crowded against her in the seat. Laurie had tried to ignore him, but he had become more and more insolent, and Monroe had noted the situation in one glance.

“Laurie,” he had said at once, “come along with me.”

The black-haired man had turned to glare at the brakeman. “We’re doing very well without you, Red. Move along or I’ll have to move you.” He was a big man, thick-shouldered and arrogant.

Monroe had been wearing a light jacket, and he pulled it back just enough so that both Laurie and the man could see the butt of a .44 shoved into his belt. Leaning forward, the Tennessean had murmured mildly, “I don’t allow
nobody
to pester my sister, Jack. Now, you set.”

Something in Monroe’s pale blue eyes had caught the insolent man’s complete attention. He sat back and weakly sputtered, “I was just trying to have a little conversation with the young lady.”

“Come along, sis,” Monroe said easily. When Laurie had slipped past, and Monroe had escorted her back to the cattle car, he said, “I shoulda plugged that sucker!”