The Reluctant Bridegroom (35 page)

“No. He’s never asked,” she answered quietly.

When the lesson was over, Rebekah sent Joe to bed. Timmy began to cry, so she went into the bedroom to get him and he quieted at once. She carried him into the living room and began to rock the little boy as O’Malley sipped a cup of coffee. “He has bad dreams sometimes.”

“So do I, Becky,” he said softly. “Mostly I dream about how I’ll wind up an old man, all alone and old, with nothing done and nobody to care whether I live or die.”

“I doubt you’ll come to that. You’ll marry and have a dozen red-headed Irish kids,” she laughed.

He started to speak, but seemed to change his mind; his thoughts set his eyes close together in a sleepy look. Getting up, he said, “I’m going into town for a couple of days. When I come back, Becky, I’ll be a respectable citizen—not a roughneck mountain man.”

“You’ll do well at whatever you take on, Jim,” she told him. “Look how you managed Joe! He’ll do anything for you. Will you come back and see us sometime?”

“Yes—I’ll do that, Becky.” He rose and climbed to the loft, and the next morning he was gone before she got up.

When she asked Sky the next morning why his friend had left so abruptly, Winslow said, “Jim’s like that. Gets a notion and cuts loose.” He meant to apologize for the way he’d snapped at her, but she seemed preoccupied, so he said instead, “I’m going over to Little River and see if I can locate some beaver. May stay a couple of days if it looks good.”

“Will you take Joe?”

“No. He needs to study.” Again the words were on the tip of his tongue, but he could not bring himself to say them. Gathering his traps, Sky pulled out, saying, “Tell Joe I’ll take him next time if he studies hard.”

“All right, Sky.”

She watched him through the window as he rode off into the timberline. As she went about her work that day, a spirit of gloom pulled at her. Joe got up, and was angry when he discovered that he had been left behind. “I’m sick of those old books, Rebekah!”

“Your father wants you to learn, Joe.”

“It ain’t been no fun around here since you come!” he said spitefully. “I don’t see why Pa ever married you!”

He whirled and ran out the door, and she did not have the heart to call out for him to stop. He went to the barn, threw a saddle on his horse, and galloped out in the same direction Sky had gone.

Mary was awakened by the slamming door, and Timmy came crawling out, fussing. It was a relief to have something to do, for Joe’s behavior had been a climax to the fears that had kept her awake most of the night. Her mind was a blank as she fed the children, for she had gone over and over the problem until there was nothing left to consider.

She had asked herself a thousand times,
Why did I marry him?
And time after time she had offered Timmy and Mary as her reason. But now that both Sky and Joe were gone, she admitted out loud the reason that had been deeply buried in her heart.

“I thought I could make him love me.”

Now it was out; turning her back to Timmy so he could not see, she allowed the tears that she had choked back so many times to flow freely. But the release did nothing to lighten her heart; the prospect of the string of loveless years ahead oppressed her, and there was a heaviness in her spirit that would not go away.

She spent the day playing with the children and asking herself,
What will I do when he comes back?
She had failed with Joe just as much as she had failed with his father, and now there was nothing to look forward to but a dreary existence in a house filled with anger and bitterness.

The day wore on past noon, and the shadows of the tallest firs were beginning to shade the kitchen windows when she heard the sow give a piercing squeal. She had asked Sky to let her raise some pigs, and he had built a stout pen and bought a sow that had been bred. The piglets had been born two weeks earlier, and she had delighted in the antics of the pink-nosed porkers. Maybelle, the sow, was fiercely protective of her brood, and Rebekah’s first thought was that one of the dogs had gotten into the pen and was after the small pigs.

Opening the door, she ran toward the pen, which was fifty yards from the house in a grove of oak saplings. “You dogs get away from—!”

Her words were cut off like a knife, for as she moved closer, a massive form reared upright beside the pen, and she saw the huge hump and fierce beady eyes of an enormous grizzly. For one second she stood paralyzed; then the bear gave a hoarse
whuff!
and dropped to all fours, lumbering in her direction. She whirled and raced across the yard, breathing a prayer. She dashed inside the house, slamming the door and dropping the sturdy oak bar just as the weight of the bear crashed against it.

She picked up the baby and soothed Timmy, who was wailing. She held her breath, but there was no other attempt on the door, and soon she heard his claws scratch on the small porch as he moved away. She put the baby down and leaped up to the window in time to see the animal loping back toward the pigpen.

She tried to still her racing heart as she heard the sow squeal. The pen was built to hold a large sow, but the powerful grizzly would crumble it like a toothpick with a single swipe of its paw. She had heard Sky and Jim tell about the almost
unbelievable strength of the animals, and she knew that the pigs were doomed.

Her eyes fell on the rifle that was over the fireplace, and she ran to get it down. It was a much heavier weapon than the one she’d used the day before, but it was of the same type. She carried the weapon over to the shelf where Sky kept his powder and balls, and awkwardly loaded it. She had no idea how much powder the large rifle required, but poured a steady stream down the muzzle, put a patch in with the rod, then one of the balls, then another patch. With trembling hands she added the flint and moved back to the window just as the squeals of the big pig were cut short. The grizzly had got the mother sow.

She prayed that the beast would carry his prey into the woods, but when she opened the window she could hear the animal grunting as he ate.
He’ll go away when he’s finished,
she thought. She put the gun down and went to comfort Timmy, who was still sniffling. He held on to her, then was reassured and went toddling off to the bedroom. Rebekah was about to pick Mary up when she heard the faint sound of a horse approaching.

Throwing the door open, she saw Joe riding into the yard.
He’ll go to the barn!
she realized with horror, and she ran out into the yard, crying as loudly as she could: “Joe! Joe! Don’t go to the barn!”

Her cries frightened his horse, which shied away from her, almost throwing Joe out of the saddle. He lost one rein and was struggling to keep his seat, for the horse had scented the grizzly and was out of control, kicking and whinnying wildly.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rebekah saw something move.
Oh no!
The grizzly loped into the clearing and headed straight for the horse. “Joe!” she screamed as she whirled and dashed into the house. She snatched the rifle up and bolted outside, holding the weapon awkwardly. Joe had seen the bear, but he clung to the back of the horse, trying to get control.

The bear picked up speed, covering the ground faster than a
horse. He plunged straight at the horse, reared up, and lifting one huge paw, struck the animal alongside the head, sending Joe catapulting to the ground. The blow drove the animal’s head to one side and raked bloody furrows through the hide. The grizzly roared, striking the horse again and again on the head and neck, and the animal fell heavily to one side, blood streaming from a dozen deep wounds.

Joe was scrambling to get away when the horse crashed on top of him, pinning his legs. He smelled the rank odor of the bear and saw the bloody claws rip and tear at the dying animal. He could have reached out and touched the huge head as the bear opened his jaws and tore out the throat of the horse in one bite.

Joe lay there with his eyes frozen on the bear, which had straightened up, licking his bloody chops. As the animal moved his head, the beady eyes fixed on him! Joe screamed with fear, and the noise seemed to confuse the grizzly; for he suddenly reared up again, bobbing his head from side to side.

Still clutching the loaded rifle, Rebekah began to walk toward the fallen horse. Joe saw her and cried, “Look out!” struggling wildly to free his legs.

Got to get so close I can’t miss,
Rebekah thought, praying with every step,
Oh, God, save Joe!
Her approach caught the attention of the grizzly, and he moved in a circle, coming at last to face the woman. His eyes were red, the bloodlust strong, but she did not think of danger. All the world seemed shut off—except the monstrous form of the bear now shuffling toward her.

The animal was so large that he cut off the light from the sky, dark and strong and rank, as he loomed over her. She lifted the rifle as he reared, paused for one brief second, then pulled the trigger. The explosion of the rifle was deafening, and the recoil of the weapon so powerful that it drove her backward. She dropped the gun as she fell, and saw that the bear had fallen to the ground as well. Struggling to her feet,
she could see the bear’s mighty limbs twitching feebly, but the entire front of his face had been blown away.

She staggered over to Joe, and he reached out to her as she fell beside him. “Ma!” he cried, tears running down his ashen cheeks. He held to her so tightly that she could not get her breath. Over and over he cried, “Ma! Ma!” His body was racked with sobs, his tears mingling with hers. The pressure of his thin arms around her and hearing the name he had called her made Rebekah hold him even more fiercely until finally his sobbing ceased.

When he was quieter she said, “See if you can get your legs out while I push.” With a mighty effort he yanked free and scrambled to his feet, then wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve and stared at the dead grizzly. He reached out and touched her arm hesitantly, and when she looked at him, she saw a look of wonder in his eyes.

“Ma—you done it! He would have killed me for sure! And if you’d missed—he’d have killed you, too!” Then he looked again at the huge animal. “Bet not many women would stand up to a grizzly like that! Most women would have been too scared to come outside—and you let him walk right up to you!”

Rebekah was weak from the ordeal, but she managed a smile and put her arm around Joe’s thin shoulders. “God was with us, wasn’t He, Son?”

The boy felt the warmth of her arm on his shoulders and awkwardly put his arm around her waist, hugging her. “Sure was,” he nodded, and said again loudly, “He sure was, Ma!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

A DEAD WOMAN’S HAND

“ . . . an’ then that big ol’ grizzly reared up, Pa, and he was so big I couldn’t even see Ma—but she let fly with that rifle gun and just plain ol’ blew that bear’s head off!”

Sky leaned over and set another three-foot-thick section of the oak tree on end, thinking:
Now he calls her his ma like he’s been doing it all his life.
He lifted the splitting maul and struck; the two sections fell as splinterless as a cloven rock. Joe scooted forward and pulled one section upright, and Sky said, “Guess she saved your bacon, Son.”

Joe’s dark eyes glowed, and he nodded vigorously. “You’re mighty right, she did!” With that, he launched into yet another detailed account of the adventure with the bear, lauding Rebekah to the skies.

Sky had heard the story at least ten times since he had ridden in that morning, but he let the boy speak, glad that the wall he had raised against Rebekah had at last been broken down. He had ridden in to find Joe trying to skin the bear, and making a pretty bad mess of the job. Seeing his father, Joe had run to him, telling the tale so excitedly that at first Sky could not understand what had happened. “
What
happened, Rebekah?” he had asked.

“Oh, the bear came for the pigs, and I shot it,” she had answered.

“Aw, c’mon, Ma!” Joe had cried, “let
me
tell about it!” Sky had immediately noticed the word that now came so easily
to the boy’s lips.
Ma.
By the time Sky had the story straight, he saw that Rebekah had earned a place in the boy’s heart.

He and Joe worked all morning, dragging the dead horse to a gully to be burned, skinning and dressing the bear, repairing the pigpen, and searching for the piglets that had escaped. Carrying one of the little pigs back, Sky found Rebekah standing by the pen, looking down at the two they had already located. “Sorry about Maybelle, Rebekah,” he said, putting the squealing pig into the pen. “I’ll get you another one from Taylor.”

“All right.”

Sky noticed her lack of enthusiasm and tried to cheer her up. “You did fine—killing that bear. Joe thinks you’re just about the best thing going.” She shrugged and walked away from the pen. Her attitude was beginning to frustrate Winslow. He knew that his remark to O’Malley had hurt Rebekah, and he wanted more than ever to make it up to her. With a sigh, he ran to catch up with her and fell into step as she was nearing the house.

Carefully he tested out the waters. “I’m grateful to you, Rebekah. You saved Joe’s life.”

“Anyone would have done it.”

“No, that’s not right. You did a very brave thing.” He took her arm, and she turned to face him—reluctantly, he thought. “You risked your life for Joe. It would have been hard for an experienced hunter to walk up to a grizzly like that—and for a woman who’s not had much experience with a gun, why, it’s—”

“I’d rather not talk about it, Sky.” She pulled away from him, saying, “I’d better get to work.”

Helplessly he watched her go into the house, shutting the door behind her. Winslow slapped his hands together in an angry gesture.
Why is it I can never say the right thing to her?
he asked himself, turning to go back to find Joe.
She’s changed, I reckon—or maybe it’s me that’s done the changing.

All day as he worked around the place, the sense of
frustration grew, and Joe’s enthusiasm only aggravated him. At supper he ate silently, listening as Joe kept up a running conversation with Rebekah. Afterward, when the two put their heads together over a book, he felt left out, so Sky played with Timmy until the little fellow grew sleepy. Putting the boy down, he picked Mary up and rocked her, admiring the creamy complexion and bright eyes. Finally she grew fussy, and Rebekah rose from the table and came over to him. “I’ll take her now.”