The Rough Rider (16 page)

Aaron Makes a Promise

“Who could that be at this hour!” Davis Winslow rubbed his eyes and sat up abruptly in the large poster bed at the sound of pounding on the front door.

Across from him, Belle stirred and sat up as well. As Davis fumbled about, throwing his feet out of the bed and feeling for his slippers, she said, “I can’t imagine! I hope nothing’s wrong at the college!”

Pulling on his robe, Davis groped his way out of the bedroom, pausing to pull a cord that dangled in the center of the hallway. The new electric lights that had been recently installed in the college president’s home flicked on. And as always, he was a little shocked by the bright light that instantly illuminated the hall. He was a very conservative man, this Davis Winslow, and he was fond of saying, “I’ve seen a lot of changes in my lifetime, and I’ve been against most every one of them!” However, he was grateful for this new wonder, if for no other reason than the lights saved his eyes for his long hours of reading every night.

Reaching the front door, he pulled it open and stood there, staring blankly at the tall figure in front of him. “Aaron! What in the world—”

“The bad penny’s come home again, Dad!” Aaron smiled. He allowed his father to pull him through the door, and then he set his suitcase down. “I should have taken a hotel room, I guess, rather than wake you up in the middle of the night. It’s after two o’clock.”

“Aaron!” Belle entered the foyer and moved across the floor quickly, tying the belt to her robe. She threw her arms around Aaron’s neck, and he bent over and kissed her noisily on the cheek. They clung to each other for a moment, for they’d always had a warm relationship. Belle often said, “You get all that devilment in you from me, Aaron! I was just like you when I was your age!” Stepping back, she reached up and laid her hand on his stubbled cheek. “Why didn’t you wire us and tell us you were coming?”

Aaron stretched his shoulders wearily. “You never know when these blasted trains will get in!” He grinned at his father, adding, “Why don’t you do something about that? This one was two hours late!”

“Come on in, son,” Davis said, grabbing Aaron by the arm. They led him into the kitchen, and Belle stirred up the fire and began to heat the coffee. For half an hour they pumped him with questions faster than he could answer, until finally he threw up his hands. “Not so fast—you don’t have to know everything at once, do you?”

But Belle and Davis were anxious to hear all about their son’s travels. Belle poured the coffee, scalding hot as Davis liked it, and the three sat down. The two older people listened eagerly as Aaron told them of his time in the Klondike.

As president of a college, Davis had learned how to read young men. Listening to Aaron’s story, he saw that something was troubling this son of his. Finally, as Aaron finished, Davis understood what was burdening his son. “You’re hurting over Jubal’s death, aren’t you, son?”

Aaron shot a startled glance at his father. “You always could read my mind, Dad,” he muttered. Leaning forward, he put his chin on his hand—looking suddenly very young. “Who wouldn’t be?” he said quietly. “It was my fault he died. If he hadn’t rushed to shove me out of the way, I think he would have made it.”

“He was a fine young man,” Belle whispered. She reached
over and took Aaron’s hand in hers and held it. “We’ll never forget him, and I’m forever grateful to him.”

There was a stubborn set in Aaron’s face, she saw, and he said, “It’s not fair! He had his whole life before him and now he’s gone.”

Belle shot a quick glance at her husband, then said, “How are his folks taking it?”

“Better than I am!”

“Tom and Faith have always been strong people in the Lord,” Davis remarked. Realizing that it would do little good to talk at the moment, Davis skillfully led the questioning to other things about Aaron’s trip.

Belle listened quietly, and then finally said, “We’ve got to get this young man to bed. We’ve got lots of time to talk later.”

“That suits me,” Aaron said, glad to end the talk about Jubal’s death. He stood up, picked up his suitcase, and headed up the stairs toward his room. “I’m hungry for some of your good pancakes, Mother,” he called out. “I’ve missed those more than anything else!”

Belle called back, “You’ll have them for breakfast—all you can eat!”

As his footsteps faded down the upstairs hallway, Belle turned and said, “He’s not doing well, Davis. He’s hurting terribly over Jubal’s death.”

A troubled light flickered over Davis’s eyes, and he ran his hand through his thick hair and shook his head. “You can’t blame him for that, dear. I saw it happen a number of times in the war. It seemed like that was one of the worst things—when a man saved someone else, the fellow who lived sometimes never got over it. Thank God that Jubal was a Christian and is with the Lord now!”

“Yes,” Belle said thoughtfully. She looked up the long stairway that led to the second floor and could hear Aaron shutting the door to his room. “He’s got a streak of something in him that I’ve never seen before. I’m worried about him, Davis. We’ll have to talk more tomorrow.”

****

The next day after a sumptuous breakfast of pancakes with rich syrup, Aaron and Davis sat talking. After the maid had cleared the table, they all moved into the drawing room. Aaron sat in a chair across from a cream-colored divan where his parents sat and said, “I feel out of place. At my age a man should have a vocation, a calling, and I don’t have the vaguest idea of what to do, and I know you’re disappointed about it.”

“That’s not true,” Davis said instantly. “Lots of men don’t find themselves until they’re much older than you are.” He stared at his son’s face, then said, “Would you like to go back to college? We’ll see to it if you would.”

“I’m a little bit old to be a schoolboy,” Aaron said, shifting his weight on the chair uncomfortably. “I’d hoped to strike it rich in the Klondike,” he grinned sardonically. “Then I could just be a rich bum! I suppose that’s all I’m suited for.” He thought for a moment, then said, “I’d sure like to see Cass and Serena make a big strike, but I guess that’s a long shot.”

Belle bit her lip nervously and said, “Aaron, your father and I are worried about Lewis.”

“Lewis? What about him? He’s in New York with Uncle Mark, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Davis answered slowly. “He went there hoping Mark could find him a job in the railroad. He really doesn’t know what he wants to do either.”

Aaron laughed shortly. “How does it feel to have two worthless sons that can’t make up their own minds? You must be real proud of that.”

There was a sharpness in his voice that neither of his parents had ever heard. They both realized instantly that the experience in the Klondike had done something to Aaron that was not good. There was a caustic quality about him that had not been there before he left.

Davis said quietly, “You’ll have children of your own one day, Aaron. You’ll learn that they might not always do what
you’d like for them to—but they’re still yours. I’m proud of you and Lewis. You’re just slow in finding your way, but so was I. I thought I wanted to go to Europe and be a writer until the Lord—and your mother—came along.” He smiled at Belle warmly. “I’ve never been sorry for it. It’s not a very exciting life being president of a college, but I like to think I’m doing some good.”

“Well, I don’t know what good
I
could do. Maybe I ought to go to New York and see Uncle Mark. There’s some excitement in railroading, you know!” His eyes lit up as he thought about the travels he’d had. “I wouldn’t mind being an engineer or a brakeman, or just working on the train.”

“Mark would be happy to help you, if that’s what you want,” Belle said quickly. She hesitated, then said, “I wish you would go to New York—for another reason.”

“Another reason?”

“I wish you’d go talk to Lewis. He’s in trouble, I think.”

Instantly, Aaron was alert. “You mean, trouble with the law?”

“Oh no, nothing like that!” Davis said, holding up his hand in protest. “It’s this war. Mark and Lola wrote us and said he’s bound and determined to get involved with it, and we’re afraid he’ll get himself killed.”

Aaron listened to what his father had to say about the sinking of the
Maine,
then shook his head. “We heard about it in the Klondike. Is the country as wild over this Spanish thing as we read about in the papers?”

“Yes. Everybody wants to go as a soldier—all the young men, anyway,” Davis said. “Many of them see it as a great adventure for them, and you know Lewis—he’s an incurable romantic. He sees himself as leading a charge and saving the Cubans from the oppressive tyranny of the Spaniards.”

“He’s always been that way,” Aaron observed. “But he outgrew most of his strange notions without getting shot at.” As he thought about what his parents had said, he noticed they were watching him, waiting. Surprised, he said, “You
don’t think I could really change his mind, do you? You’ve both tried!”

“I don’t know whether you could or not,” said his mother, “but I wish you’d go and talk with him. He needs someone right now. It’d be a good chance for you to talk to Mark, too.”

Aaron sat very still, thinking hard. Finally he nodded, “Why, of course I’ll go—and I think I’d better leave right away. From what I read in the papers, the army’s getting pulled together right now. And I heard that Teddy Roosevelt is getting a volunteer cavalry group ready to go.”

“That’s the one Lewis is trying to get into, but it’s hard,” said Davis.

“But if he doesn’t get into that, he’ll volunteer for something else. New York’s putting together a volunteer regiment,” Belle said quickly.

Aaron made up his mind instantly. “Well, I don’t know if I can do any good, but I’ll go have a try. I wonder when the next train leaves?”

“There’s one at three fifteen this afternoon,” Davis said. “I hear the whistle every day from my office at the college.” He was troubled about this older son of his and said plaintively, “Do your best, Aaron. You two have always been close, so maybe he’ll listen to you.”

“No reason why he should,” Aaron said, shrugging his shoulders. “I haven’t been exactly the best example in the world for Lewis—but I’ll do the best I can.”

That afternoon when the train pulled out, Belle and Davis stood on the platform watching. They waved at Aaron as he leaned out the window with a smile on his face. As they turned to leave, Davis said, “You know, Belle, I think I’m more worried about Aaron than I am about Lewis.”

“I know. He’s changed, hasn’t he?”

“He could turn bad and go sour. I’ve seen it happen to men who can’t find their way.”

“I think Jubal’s death has affected him even worse than he
lets on. He feels awfully guilty, and when anyone does that, it can eat away at them.”

The two continued walking slowly away from the tracks. The engine gave a shrill blast that seemed somehow to have a warning note in it. And as they left the station, neither of them could find the words to say what was in their hearts about these two young men who were their sons.

CHAPTER NINE

A Stubborn Young Man

The first week in May was waning as Aaron stepped off the train at Grand Central Station. He was stunned by the grandeur and immensity of the place and paused for a moment to gaze across the rows and rows of tracks. They were filled, it seemed, with huge chuffing behemoths—steel locomotives that belched great billowing gusts of steam—that threatened to engulf the throngs of passengers. As crowded as the station was, it took some time to buy a ticket for the smaller commuter train that made its way to his uncle’s home. It was late afternoon and the shadows were long when he stepped off the train at the small station. A short, stubby Irishman standing beside the entrance to the station called out cheerfully, “Cab, sir?”

“I’m looking for my uncle’s home—his name’s Mark Winslow.”

“Ah, yes, I know the place. Can I help you, sir, with your bag?”

Twenty minutes later, Aaron was walking up the tree-lined entrance to the Winslow residence. When he reached the door, it opened and his aunt Lola came out smiling. “I saw you coming, Aaron!” She reached up and gave him a quick embrace. “Lewis isn’t here, but he’ll be back shortly. Please come inside.”

Aaron followed her inside to the large entryway. She called to a servant to carry his bag upstairs, then turned to take his arm. “Come out to the arbor—it’s cooler there.” She led the
way down a path to a grape arbor. A soft breeze fluttered the green leaves overhead, masking the brilliant sun. The two sat down at a white table, and Lola poured two glasses of lemonade from a crystal pitcher that a servant had brought out on a silver tray.

“Now, tell me about your travels,” said Lola as she sipped the cold lemonade.

Aaron leaned back and spoke briefly of some of his experiences in the Klondike. “Uncle Mark’s not here?” he asked finally.

“He’ll be here tomorrow. He had to take the train to Chicago a few days ago on business.” Lola leaned forward and studied Aaron’s face.
Such a handsome young man,
she thought,
but there’s something troubling him.
Aloud she said, “I suppose Davis and Belle are worried about Lewis. Your uncle and I wired them with our concerns.”

“Yes, that’s really why I came, Aunt Lola. What’s going on with him?”

“It’s this war,” Lola said. “He’s caught up in it like everybody else.”

“It sounds like a pretty serious thing. From what I’ve read and heard on the trip up here, those Cubans need rescuing, don’t they?”

Lola shook her head. “Don’t you go believing all that foolishness. It’s a newspaper war mostly. Mark’s looked into it very thoroughly. Have you ever heard of William Randolph Hearst?”

“Why, just that he’s some kind of newspaperman.”

“Well, I’m afraid he’s at the bottom of most of it. His father was called Wasteful Willie Hearst and was an enormously wealthy man—made a fortune in the newspaper business in California. Hearst came to New York and bought the
Journal.
He’s determined to accomplish the same thing his father did in San Francisco, and he’s been looking for some sort of ‘cause’ ever since.” Lola leaned back and shook her head distastefully. “This situation in Cuba has given him a golden
opportunity. It’s got villains, gore, gunrunners, adventure—everything he needs for a headline story to stir up people.”