CHAPTER XI
THE PROPOSALS
One spring day an automobile containing four men and two women drove up and stopped before the Rainbow lodge.
The half dozen guests must have been expected, because within a few moments after they were ushered into the big living-room of the lodge, which had altered but little in character in many years, Jacqueline Kent, who had been Jacqueline Ralston in the old days, came downstairs to greet her visitors.
The call could not have been merely a social one, else Jack would scarcely have appeared so pale and preoccupied and so unlike her usual radiant and vital self.
Slowly she had descended the stairs, and entering her own living-room had shaken hands with four of the six persons whom she knew and had then been introduced to the other two. Afterwards she sat down in a chair and listened quietly, rarely doing more than introduce a sentence now and then.
At the close of nearly an hour, when the visitors, declining to remain for dinner, had risen to say farewell, Jack also stood up, facing them.
She stood with the mantel and the bookshelves forming her background. Upon the mantel were several of the possessions she had treasured in her childhood, Indian bowls of strange shape and antiquity, her father's pistol, the first nugget of gold she and Frank Kent, who was afterwards to be her husband, had discovered in the Rainbow mine. In the old bookshelves were the self-same books she and Olive and Jean and Frieda had read and studied in their girlhood, studied far too little until the coming of Ruth to act as their governess.
Outside the big living-room windows Jack could see the long double row of tall cottonwood trees now grown through the years to mammoth proportions and away and beyond the purple fields of the blossoming alfalfa and the newly sprouting tender green spears of grain, all her own beloved and familiar background.
"I am sure you realize I appreciate the honor you have done me," she said finally, speaking in hesitating fashion. "Yet I do not believe I dare give you my answer this afternoon. You have been kind enough to say that I may have two more days for considering your proposal, and within that time I shall of course let you hear. You are sure you cannot stay longer, not even for tea?"
Ten minutes later, on the porch of the lodge Jack stood alone, watching the automobile containing her six callers roll down the avenue between the cottonwood trees and pass out the gate which separated the lodge grounds from the rest of the Rainbow ranch.
For a short time Jack continued her watch, glancing first in one direction and then in another as if expecting some one else to approach with an evident wish to see her.
The afternoon was in early May. The air blowing from the snow-capped hills closer to the western horizon brought with it the fragrances of damp wooded places, mingled with the wealth of prairie flowers over which it had more lately passed.
Jacqueline Ralston Kent threw back her shoulders, lifted her head and inhaled a deep breath.
"I wonder why Jim, Jean, Frieda and Olive do not come to find out what decision I have reached," she remarked aloud. "This must be some prearranged plan that I am to be left alone for a time. And yet it is unlike my younger sister, Frieda, not to continue to express her opinion and insist I agree with it whether or not it happens to be my own. Perhaps being left alone may be more effective than the usual family opposition toward bringing me around to their way of thinking. Yet the family is divided in their viewpoint, and so whatever I may do I must please some of them and displease others. If I am to be left alone I think I'll go for a ride. I wish Jimmie were here to go with me; I intend to talk my problem over with Jimmie – this and every problem we ever have to face. But of course with Jim looking after the branding of the new calves this afternoon what chance have I of Jimmie's being anywhere near?"
Not long after, with her costume changed to her riding-habit, Jack went back to the stable of the lodge and finding no one there, saddled her own mare, a present from Jim Colter several years before, and rode off.
Before leaving, she explained to the old half-Indian woman who looked after her small household that she would not return until dinner time. If she were late Jimmie was to eat his dinner and not wait for her.
It was true that Jacqueline Kent felt she was facing this afternoon one of the greatest decisions of her life, almost as important a decision as her marriage. Perhaps in some persons' eyes a more important decision, since it was more unusual than marriage in the lives of most women.
It was so strange and so unexpected that at present Jack herself was scarcely able to accept the momentous fact. Yet here it was before her staring her in the face, awaiting her judgment and shutting out the dim spring loveliness of the sky and plains.
"Should she or should she not? Would she or would she not?" The refrain had a stupid sound in Jack's ears. She caught herself wondering which was grammatical and then concluded that both expressions were right in her case, since both her future and her will were involved in her present conclusion.
Who would have believed that upon her return to Wyoming, her simple desire to become an American citizen again and later her interest in the prosperity and happiness of her state could involve her in such a situation? Within the last hour, was it really possible that she, Jacqueline Ralston Kent, one of the four original "Ranch Girls of the Rainbow Lodge," had been asked to accept the nomination for the United States Congress and become among the first women representatives in the country?
Jack bit her lips, put her hand to her face to feel the sudden flush which had suffused it at the thought of her own unfitness for so great a responsibility.
Then she gave her horse its head and started upon a swift canter; for a little while she must put away the question which so troubled her. Appreciating her own lack of knowledge and of training for the task ahead, why not decline at once and for all time ever to consider it? Yet on the other hand, had she the right to evade so wonderful an opportunity? She was young and could learn a good deal of what she should know in order to meet such a responsibility. Moreover, she did have the interest of her state at heart and some of her friends and acquaintances must have believed in her, else the nomination would never have been offered her. Besides, if she were honest, frank, and open-minded, would it not be a wonderful experience? Jack was only lately a girl, and in her heart of hearts felt it would actually be great fun to be among the early vanguard of the women who were to hold important political offices in the United States.
"Yet of course, even if I conclude to accept the nomination, I won't unless Jim Colter finally gives his consent. I refuse to be regulated by Frieda. Besides, why worry? After all, there is not one chance in a hundred that I shall ever be elected!"
Lightly Jack touched her horse with her riding whip; she had believed an ordinary gait would suffice to distract her thoughts for a little time, but evidently this was not sufficient. Her horse was moving quickly and evenly over the smooth road and still her thoughts had continued unchanged. He must break into a run – a run so swift and headlong, as if in a race for a goal, that all her thought should be centered upon his control. She needed to feel the strong rush of the wind in her ears, the splendid sensation of being a part of the movement which she so enjoyed.
She had promised not to ride outside of the Rainbow ranch alone, an absurd promise which several of the cowboys had suggested, and which Jim Colter had insisted upon. She had made enemies within the last year by the outspoken position she had taken upon a number of questions. At present there were rumors that if she accepted the nomination to Congress she would be forced to regret it. Yet these rumors appeared to Jack as nothing save stupid gossip and sensationalism and not to be regarded.
However, boring as it might be upon occasions like this afternoon, when she would like to have gotten as far away from the Rainbow ranch as her horse could take her within a two hours' ride, nevertheless she intended keeping her promise.
The outermost borders of the Rainbow ranch were enclosed by a high paling fence to prevent the escape of the cattle.
When she had ridden a little more than an hour Jack arrived at one of the borders of the ranch, in the same vicinity where at one time there had been a serious dispute with a neighbor over the boundary line. This was near the end of the Rainbow creek, at one time considered chiefly valuable for the watering of the stock and afterwards found to contain valuable gold deposits.
Those had been strenuous and fighting days at the Rainbow ranch. First there was the effort to make a living for the family and then to achieve a certain amount of education for the four Ranch girls. Afterwards had come the adjustment of their legal rights to the ranch, in the days when the possibility that gold might be discovered made the possession too valuable to pass to four obscure young girls. How the manager of their ranch, a fellow named Jim Colter, who so far as the neighbors knew at that time had sprung from nowhere, had fought and won their battles for them!
Well, those old days had passed and this afternoon Jack concluded that no such perilous times could ever return, whether or not she chose to be among the pioneers and enter the political arena.
By this time she had ceased her rapid gait and had come to the bridle path which led along the far side of Rainbow creek. The path ascended among high rocks and crags, almost the only hilly portion of the entire ranch. At the top there was an especially fine view.
At present Jack rode slowly, allowing her horse opportunity to rest now and then after his swift run.
Jack herself felt in better spirits, more exhilarated. Not having fully reached a decision, nevertheless she had managed for a brief time to banish the question to her subconscious mind, hoping it was still wrestling with the problem and might later help her with its solution.
She glanced among the rocks and crags, remembering how she and the other Ranch girls had played hide and seek among them as children. Long before when Wyoming was largely inhabited by Indian tribes the Indians had lived among these rocks sheltered from their enemies. Indian treasures had been discovered buried under the earth or fallen between crevices of stone.
Reaching a level space of ground, Jack reined in her horse and sat still, silhouetted against the sky. Behind her the sun was setting in purple and gold clouds. Below she caught a glimpse of another figure on horseback approaching in her direction. Putting her hand to her lips Jack called "Hello." She was under the impression that the rider was either Jim Colter or one of the Rainbow ranch cowboys, and they were all her friends. As it was growing late it might be pleasant to have an escort home.
A lifting of a hat and a wave of a hand returning her greeting, Jack uttered a little exclamation of surprise.
She waited until Peter Stevens had climbed up the bridle path and was beside her.
"I have come to ask you, Jack, if there is any possibility of your accepting the offer which was made you to-day? Please understand that it is no secret. There has been talk of your nomination for Congress for a good many months, not weeks. I presume you realize that if you accept you will be my opponent? I also am to run for the same office, unless you would like me to withdraw. I am willing if you wish to have me do so. Yet I would give up a good many more important things in my life if I could persuade you to refuse this nomination. I know you think I am old-fashioned, narrow, dogmatic, yet with all my heart and all my intelligence I oppose the thought of our American women holding public office. And you of all women, Jack! Why, with all the experience of life you think you have had, you are little more than a girl. It must be impossible for you to realize the jealousies, the calumnies and feuds that will be aroused by your action. In this past year I have seen you fairly often; never so frequently as I desired, yet you must have learned to know whether you like or dislike me. Won't you be my wife, Jack, and go with me to Washington in that capacity and not as my political adversary? I would do a great deal to prevent your making such a mistake."
More surprised than she cared to show, Jack shook her head, her face slowly flushing.
"I am sure you are very kind, Peter, and I do appreciate the honor you have done me, because I do realize how great a sacrifice you are making. Yet perhaps you need not have been put to such a test, for although I cannot accept your offer, perhaps I shall not accept the other offer either. I know my own limitations for such a distinguished office as well as even you can know them. However, I make no promise. Will you ride back to the lodge to dinner with me?"
Peter Stevens shook his head and an hour after Jack arrived at the Rainbow lodge alone.
CHAPTER XII
A DECISION
Jack, however, did not reach a decision that night, although many hours she lay awake continuing to revolve the subject in her mind.
The next day the opposition she again encountered was even keener than any that had gone before.
Not long after breakfast Frieda made the first family appearance, bringing her little girl with her.
Seeing her sister approach, Jack, who had stepped out of doors for a moment for a breath of fresh air, feeling more fatigued than she scarcely ever recalled being at this hour of the morning, gave a quickly suppressed sigh and then held out her arms to Peace.
Thoroughly she and Frieda had gone over this question of her possible nomination when the matter simply had been under discussion. Frieda had then aired her views as fully as it seemed possible that any expression of opinion could be aired. Not for a single instant was Jack even to allow her mind to rest upon the idea. "A woman politician in the family!" Personally Frieda felt and announced that she could not endure the disgrace.
From the first had she not warned her sister that public speech making would lead to something more disastrous?
Now as Jack greeted her sister she was painfully aware that Frieda's face wore the familiar expression it was wont to wear when she had appointed herself both judge and jury in a case and allowed no counsel for the defendant.
Pretending to ignore the expression, nevertheless, Jack felt a little ominous sinking of the heart. She was not prepared to allow Frieda to make this decision for her, and had so informed her, as gently and firmly as possible, in their previous talks together upon the self-same topic.
And Jack did not wish to be drawn into any further argument this morning, and certainly not with her sister. All her life she had hated argument more than any one of the four Ranch girls, and in the old days used often to run away for a ride or a long walk, leaving the matter to be settled by the other three, who discussed the point to exhaustion.
"Glad to see you, Frieda dear, it is nice to see you so early in the morning and with the baby, especially when I am tired, which does not happen often to me. Will you come indoors or shall we walk about among your old violet beds? They are blooming in special abundance. Perhaps it may amuse Peace to gather some and take them home to the big house. I always feel as if I were selfish having so much more enjoyment from your flower beds than the rest of the family. Remember, Frieda dear, when you planned to be a florist and to rescue the family by selling violets? It was sweet of you."
"I'll stay outdoors and Peace can gather the violets if she wishes, but I did not come down to the lodge at this hour to discuss violets. I never do anything early in the morning, as you know, unless it seems to me excessively important. I know those people appeared here yesterday afternoon, Jacqueline Ralston Kent, to offer you the nomination for Congress; they want you to become a Congressman, or Congresswoman. Who ever heard of such a foolish title? Now I wish to know precisely what answer you gave them. I would have walked down to the lodge last night with Henry, except that both Henry and Jim Colter insisted I should leave you alone and give you time to think the matter over for yourself before I spoke to you again."
"But you haven't anything different to say, have you, Frieda, so why let us talk of it at all?"
"To that I will agree only upon one condition, Jacqueline Kent. You must promise me to refuse this nomination once and for all time and never so long as you live have anything to do with politics either in this country or in England."
"That is rather a tall order, don't you think, Frieda?" Jack answered, purposely looking in another direction rather than toward her sister's face.
Frieda always would appear to her a grown up and glorified baby, so long, when they were little girls together, had she looked upon Frieda almost more as a mother than as an older sister.
"Yet unless you do promise, Jack, it can never be the same between us again. So please listen carefully before you reply.
"I know at other times I have objected to small things that you wished to do and sometimes you went ahead and did them without regard to my feelings or my judgment and I never said anything much afterwards even if they did not turn out successfully. But this is a big thing and a different thing, and if you act against my wish I told Henry last night I should never really forgive you, even if for the sake of appearances we pretended that things were the same. I have been much embarrassed recently at your becoming a prominent person in the neighborhood; of course I wished you to be prominent socially and to become a leader, like Mrs. Senator Marshall. She would then be obliged to take second place, in spite of her husband's distinguished position. But the idea that you, my sister, could actually become interested in politics!" Frieda pronounced the word as if it were a deadly poison. "Why, it simply never dawned upon me, not for the longest time! When we went about to parties together after you had been in Wyoming a year I began to hear people say laughingly that Wyoming needed a young and charming woman to represent her in political life so that she should not fall behind the other states. So why were you not the person, as Lady Astor was in England? The cases were a little alike, you had married an Englishman and had the title of Lady Kent, but after your husband's death had preferred to return to your own country, renounce your title and resume your American citizenship. You had gone through all the necessary legal formalities to attain that end, you were clever and good-looking and your actions had proved you were a thoroughly patriotic American. The fact that you said you did not belong to any party was perhaps best of all, as women needed to be independent in politics. They were the new voters and should not be slaves to parties as so many American men were.
"This is as nearly as I can remember what was said about you, Jack. There were other things, not so flattering, but I presume most persons would not like to mention them before me. However, I paid little attention at first, as I thought it was all just talk, because most people have so little to talk about really. Even when you began making speeches about the things you wish to have accomplished in the state of Wyoming (as if your opinion was of any value), why, I did not trouble specially! It all seemed so absurd! Indeed, when you spoke to me a few days ago of what might occur and declared that the nomination for the Congress of the United States might actually be given to you, though I said everything against it I could at the time, I did not really believe it. Then yesterday afternoon actually it happened! But perhaps you refused to consider the suggestion, Jack. Indeed, I feel sure after what I have said to you and knowing Jim Colter's attitude, even if he has said but little, you must have refused. If so, I am sorry to have tired you by talking so much; I am sure I hate talking at any length unless I feel it my duty."
"And you do feel it your duty this time, don't you, Frieda?" Jack answered, slipping her arm through her younger sister's.
"Still, having done your duty, don't you think that after all I may be allowed to use my own judgment in this decision? Suppose I happen to think that life just now is offering me a great and surprising opportunity! It is surprising for me to have been chosen for this distinction; I feel this as keenly as any one of my family or friends, knowing my deficiencies, can feel it! Now don't you think it's unfair to threaten me, Frieda, to threaten in the one way which you know hurts most, the loss of any part of your affection, if I cannot make up my mind to do what you think best for me, not what I may think best for myself? I have never in all our lives, Frieda, suggested that any act of yours could possibly make me care for you less."
Frieda's voice wavered a little.
"Yes, I know, Jack, but then I would never do anything so rash and so foolish as what you contemplate. To see your name in the newspapers, to know that people are everywhere discussing your private affairs, making up disagreeable stories about you if they wish, for you know you are unconventional, Jack, and sometimes do give people opportunities to misjudge you, well, I simply can't bear it. So come on, baby, let us go back home, I see we are in the way here. I apologize, Jack, for wasting your time and mine. I had some socks of Henry's I wished to darn, and I should have been much better employed, as I see you already have reached your decision. Well, Jack, I am sure something very unfortunate will come of any such decision; when you become a public character you will certainly never be the same person to me."
Frieda had slipped her hand inside her little girl's and was about to move away when Jack's arms went round her and her gray eyes, filled with tears, gazed into Frieda's implacable blue ones.
"Frieda, in spite of all your sweetness, don't you realize that you are rather hard sometimes? I wonder if life will ever teach you to be different?"
Frieda's eyes wavered an instant.
"I see nothing to be gained by discussing my weaknesses of character. So long as I satisfy my husband and child I can manage without your good opinion, especially now I know that my interest and my wishes have not the slightest effect upon you." Frieda walked resolutely away.
Several minutes after her departure Jack continued standing in the same spot. Frieda had opened her eyes. She had been thinking that she was still uncertain of her decision and now knew that unconsciously her mind was made up. She intended to accept the nomination which had been offered her and to do everything in her power honestly to win the election.
Returning to Wyoming where she had lived as a child and young girl, she had confided to Jim Colter that she must look for some new and absorbing task to fill her life now that her married life was over. What this interest would be she had not then conceived. What it might be in the future was still uncertain. Yet the next step lay straight ahead.
Never in all their lives had she and Frieda had so serious a difference of opinion, and Frieda's words and manner had hurt more than anything that had happened since her return to the security of her former home. She could only hope that Frieda would relent, that Professor Russell would use his influence in her favor. Nevertheless, although frequently led by Frieda in small matters, on this occasion she had not been in the slightest degree affected. This was a big decision which she faced, a decision in which Frieda had but scant right to interfere. Of course she must allow for prejudice, certain suggestions which her sister had put forward had made her wince more than she cared to show. But over and against the small things was there not the one big opportunity that she might serve both her country and other women if she did not fail too completely in the work which might or might not lie ahead?
Then in a boyish fashion wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, Jack laughed. "Oh, Frieda will probably forgive me if I make a success, never if I am a failure! People forgive nearly everything to success."
"Jimmie," she called a little later, running around the side of the lodge where her small son was engaged in playing with a magnificent St. Bernard dog which had been a recent gift from Jim Colter, "won't you go up into the woods behind the Rainbow creek with me and spend the day? We will take our lunch and I'll take my rifle. I don't believe there are many animals left in our woods these days, but there used to be years ago and at least we can play at being pioneers."
But Jack and Jimmie were not to escape so easily.
Opening the gate which led from the front yard half an hour later, they came face to face with Jean Merritt and Olive MacDonnell.
"Trying to run away into your beloved outdoors in the usual fashion, Jack?" Olive said, smiling. "Well, you may go after a while, but Jean and I wish to talk to you first."
"Please don't," Jack murmured, slipping a hand into the hand of the two other original Rainbow ranch girls. "Frieda has already reduced me to tears by overmuch conversation this morning. One could scarcely describe the conversation as argument, as I was allowed to say nothing. Oh, I know, Olive, that you and Jean will not be so obdurate as Frieda and will allow me a point of view on the subject, but just the same, spare me, because I have made up my mind, provided Jim Colter does not positively refuse his consent. I shall not go against Jim's command, although I may against his wish. Otherwise I mean to accept the nomination, poor, uneducated, inefficient, stupid female person that I am and ever must remain."
"Jack, you have one member of your family who will stand by you whatever comes, as you have stood by me in the past year," Jean Merritt announced. "I have not said a great deal while the rest of the family has been doing so much talking and yet I believe I am glad of your decision. I know one is prejudiced against the idea, not so much of women in politics as of a young woman like you, Jack, who is so beautiful and charming and sincere and one who happens to be so near one's own affections. I suppose disagreeable things will be said of you, yet I know of few women so brave and so straightforward, or better able to bear calumny. And I don't see why people think that marriage always protects a woman from unhappiness; it has not protected me."
Jean rarely spoke of her own sorrow and only in moments of the deepest emotion, so that Olive and Jack both flinched at the close of her little speech, and temporarily at least Jack's problem took second place.
In more than a year, since Ralph Merritt's departure to act as mining engineer in a gold mine in New Mexico, no human being who had ever known him before had laid eyes upon him. In all the time since, no word had arrived of his mysterious disappearance from the mine, and no word had ever been received from him addressed either to Jean or to any one of his family or friends. Utterly and completely he had vanished. Months had been spent by Professor Russell in investigating his whereabouts, every clue had been followed, yet from the moment Ralph was known to have gone into his own tent to lie down until the present, no other news of him had been unearthed.
"I still have faith that things will adjust themselves for you some day, Jean, I don't know exactly why. I appreciate I have no possible evidence to support the idea, but I have always believed and do still believe that Ralph will come back some day and be able to explain the mystery of his disappearance."
Jack gave Jean's hand a tight squeeze.
"Jean, it does help a lot to have you say you will stand by me. I may be brave to-day, but to-morrow I shall probably turn coward. Olive, what about you and Bryan?"
Olive let go her friend's hand and did not answer for a moment. She was always quieter and more reserved in her manner than the other Rainbow ranch girls.
"Bryan and I talked over your possible decision until after midnight, Jack. Bryan argued you would accept, I argued you would not. Bryan seems to have known you best. He says you are made of the right material for what you are to undertake. Yet he dreads it all for you as much as I do, the fatigue, the misunderstanding. It seems impossible to me, Jack, as you must appreciate, and yet you and I are wholly unlike. But I believe you are the most courageous woman I have ever known, just as you were the most courageous girl. One thing Bryan wanted me to say both for him and for me. He believes you will not care for the notoriety, not even for the fame, if it should come to you, but only for the opportunity. And he and I both want you to understand that we will do everything in our power to help you, whatever course you may pursue. You see, dear, Bryan insists I feel toward you like the old axiom, 'My country, right or wrong, but still my country.' However, I told him the old axiom was not only stupid but wrong. One's country must be right, and so must your choice be."
"Hero worship, or rather heroine worship," Jean remonstrated. "Olive had that same absurd attitude toward you as a girl, didn't she, Jack? So small wonder you think you are a sufficiently important person to be nominated for the Congress of the United States! But don't let us keep you any longer from your beloved woods. Jimmie evidently does not know the poem about the small boy: 'Who was never bad, but always good, who never wriggled, but always stood.' So good-by and a happy day."