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“Oh, Mark, whatever would I do without you?”
“Very well, I’m sure!” His tone was wry. “Do you know what I admire most about you? Your strength and your character. Yes, I think you will always do very well. Your father would have been proud of you.”
I was relieved that Mark had assumed the role of affectionate friend. That he seemed to accept the fact that I was to marry his uncle, after all. I can’t imagine what I would have done without his companionship and calm common sense.
After Todd had left on the long trail drive, Mark and I spent as much time together as propriety would allow. I had almost forgotten, by this time, that he had ever declared his love for me, and it never occurred to me that our being thrown together so much might prove a strain on even his gentlemanly forbearance.
My first inkling came one night when I had invited him to my house for dinner, and had added carelessly that he might spend the night, since Marta would be sleeping in the house to observe the proper conventions.
We had been playing chess; he startled me when he rose from his chair so suddenly that the board tipped over, scattering the pieces all over the floor.
“Mark! What on earth is the matter with you? And I was just about to put your king in check!”
“You must know that I cannot possibly stay!” he said in a strangely suppressed tone of voice.
I stared at him in dismay.
“But why on earth not? What has got into you?”
“Rowena—dear God, do you take me for a man of steel? Or not as a man at all? Don’t you realize what it means to see you every day, to be constantly with you, knowing that you are promised to my uncle and that I can never possess you?”
“I’m sorry, Mark. I hadn’t thought—that is, I thought you had forgotten all about your infatuation for me.”
“It was no infatuation, and I’m trying hard to be a gentleman, and the brother you seem to want. But don’t make it harder on me by inviting me to spend the night under the same roof!” He added, still in the same, controlled tones, “If I thought you loved my uncle, it might have been easier. I’m not such a dolt that I couldn’t accept the fact that you might love someone else. But you don’t love him. I might as well say this, Rowena, for I’ve promised myself to be frank with you always. You’re drawn to Uncle Todd, I can see that. You’ve never met a man quite like him before, with the same aura of power and ruthlessness, and he intrigues you, does he not? But you don’t love him any more than you love me!”
I took a deep breath, and tried to smile. “Well! I may not like what you said, but I’m flattered that you were frank! Mark, I am sorry! I’ve been selfish. I haven’t thought of your feelings, only how happy I am to have your friendship and your companionship. And as for what you said about my feelings for Todd, well, that is something I cannot discuss, not even with you. Can we still be friends?”
He had remained standing; now he sighed deeply, shoulders slumping. “We’ll always be friends, I hope. And I apologize for the outburst. Just don’t invite me to spend the night with you again, will you?”
I was sorry for my thoughtlessness a
fter Mark left, and rather anxious the next day lest our relationship might be spoiled. But his manner was just the same as usual and his smile just as warm, so I put the whole thing out of my mind and let the days fall into their old familiar routine.
Nothing was changed, I told myself, nothing.
We rode together, played chess together, and went over the account books as usual, neither of us making any mention of that night. Because our association was an innocent one, I never gave a thought to what other people might think. It seemed as if I had flouted convention for so long, in almost everything I had done, that I had ceased to think of it. After all, we weren’t living under the same roof and Todd had left us together. Mark was his nephew; I was his partner and his affianced bride. We were almost related!
And then…
It is easy to ask oneself afterwards, what if I had not done this? What if I had done thus instead? But as I recall it, I had gone to bed exceptionally early that night and had waked earlier than usual. In fact, while I breakfasted I reread the letter I had received from Mrs. Poynter, inviting me to spend a few days with her and the colonel at Fort Selden. She had heard that Todd was away, and I think she imagined I must be upset by the news of Flo’s death, and lonely for female companionship. In any case she mentioned that she and Colonel Poynter would be visiting El Paso, and she thought I might enjoy visiting that famous border town myself.
I thought I might discuss it with Mark. He had said he would visit me at about noon, but if I left my house early enough, perhaps I might catch him before he left to watch the breaking in of the raw mustangs. Perhaps I could accompany him myself.
Marta shook her head disapprovingly when she realized I meant to ride out by myself. “It is not wise. Better take Jules with you.”
“And then who would stay here with you? I know my way by now, and I think I’m capable of looking after myself.” To allay her fears, I showed her the small derringer I would carry with me, slipped into the pocket of my riding skirt.
“I still think that you should wait for señor Mark.”
“But I’m not going to! Don’t frown at me, Marta, you know how stubborn I can be!”
I left to the accompaniment of dark mutterings in a Mexican dialect I found hard to understand, and many doleful shakes of her head; but I was lighthearted this morning and would not let Marta’s forebodings spoil my ride.
It was exhilarating to ride alone, to feel the long, smooth stride of my own horse under me, and to feel that I, Rowena Dangerfield, owned all this savagely beautiful land I was riding through. A light breeze, blowing down from the mountains, whipped tendrils of hair about my face, and I reveled in the feeling of freedom that riding by myself always brought to me.
What did it matter if Mark had already left the house? I would let my horse rest in the stables, order another saddled and go out to meet him. Perhaps I’d have my noon meal at the chuck wagon, with the men. Even beans would taste good on a day like this!
I was lighthearted enough to ride past the tall saguaro cactus without the unpleasant feeling that seeing it usually gave me. Nothing must spoil my day. I topped the small ridge where Flo and I had rested our horses on that day that now seemed so long ago, and cantered my horse down the gentle slope on the other side. Not too far to go now.
