Bruce of the Circle A Part 24

A pause.

"Why, if you want it that way, of course, Nora. Sit down here. Aren't you cold?"

She took a shawl from its hook, threw it across the other's shoulders and sat down on the bed, drawing Nora to her side. An awkward silence followed, then came the sound of Nora's crying, lifted to a pitch just above a sigh.

"Don't, Nora! Please, don't! What is it, now? Tell me ... do tell me,"

Ann pleaded, growing stronger, of better balance, feeling some of her genuine a.s.surance returning.

"I ... I lied to you. I ..." Nora began and stopped.

Ann uttered no word; just inhaled very slowly and squared her shoulders with relief.

"I ... was jealous of you. When I saw him with his arms around you this afternoon, I ... couldn't stand it. I had to do somethin'. I was drove to it."

She brushed the damp hair back from her forehead and cleared her throat.

She clutched Ann's one hand in both hers and turned to talk closely into her face.

"I ... it wasn't all lies. That part about me, about Charley Ling's, was true. It was true that Bruce took me out of there, too, but not for what you think. I ... I was pretty bad for a young girl, but I never knew much different until I knew Bruce ... I didn't know much.

"I was at Ling's. I didn't lie about that," she repeated stoically, baring her shame in an attempt to atone for her former behavior. "I'd been there quite a while, when one night when the' was whiskey an' men an' h.e.l.l, he come....

"I'll never forget it. I can't. He was so big that he filled th' door, he was so ... different, so clean an' disgusted-like, that it stopped th' noise for a minute. He stood lookin' us over; then he saw me an'

looked an' looked, an' I couldn't do nothin' but hang my head when 'twas my business to laugh at him.

"He didn't say a word at first, but he come across to to me an' set down beside me, an' when th' piano started again an' folks quit givin' us attention he said,

"'You're only a kid.'

"Just that; but it made me cry. He was so kind of accusin' an' so gentle. n.o.body'd ever been gentle with me before that I could remember of. They'd been accusin' all right, all right ... but not gentle. He went away that night an' I cried until it was light. In th' mornin' he come back an' asked for me an' took me outdoors an' talked to me. He talked.... He didn't do no preachin'; he didn't say nothin' about bein'

good or bein' bad. He just said that that place wasn't fit for coyotes to live in, that I'd never see th' mountains or th' stars or th'

suns.h.i.+ne livin' there. He said that.... An' he said he'd get me a job here in Yavapai....

"He did. Got me this job, in this hotel. He stuck by me when folks started to talk; he stopped it. He taught me to ride an' like horses an'

dogs an' th' valley an' things like that. He give me things to read an'

talked to me about 'em an' ... was good to me.

"I've always been like his sister. That's straight, M's. Lytton; that's no lie. He's been my brother; that's all. More 'n that, I'm about th'

only woman he's looked at in three years until ... you come. He ain't a saint but he's ... an awful fine man."

She was silent a moment and stroked the hand she had taken in hers.

"That's all. That's all the' is to say. I've tried to get him, tried to make him care for me ... a lot; but I ain't his kind,"--with a slow shake of the head as she withdrew one hand. "I can never be his kind ...

in that way. I've known it all along, but I've never let myself believe th' truth. He didn't know, didn't even guess. That's how hopeless it was. He ain't never seen that I'd do ... anythin' for him.

"When you come, I saw th' difference in him ... right off. He ... You're his kind, M's. Lytton. You're what he's waited for, what he's lookin'

for. I was jealous. I hated you from th' first. I was nice to you 'cause he wanted it, 'cause that would make him happier. I fought against showin' what I felt for his sake ... for him. Then, to-day, when I seen how he looked after he'd had you in his arms where I've wanted to be always, as I've wanted to make him look, I....

"It made me kind of crazy. I felt like tellin' you what I was, lyin'

about what I was to Bruce, thinkin' it might drive you away an' I might sometime make him love me. But, after I'd done it, after I got it into words, I knew it was against everything he'd ever taught me, against everything he'd ever been, an' that if you went 't would break his heart. That's why I come back to tell you I lied, to tell you how it is....

"You go to him now; you go before it's too late. I tried to come between you ... an' didn't. You go to him before somethin' does...."

She felt Ann's arm go about her and stifling her sobs she yielded to the pull until her head rested on the other woman's shoulder.

"Oh, Nora, I can't tell you how this makes me feel; I can't. I'll never be able to. There's nothing I can say at all, nothing I can do, even!"

The waitress lifted her face to peer closely at her.

"Just one thing you can do," she said, lowly. "Go to him now. That's what I come back here for--to tell you I lied, so you would go."

Ann straightened and shook her head sharply.

"That's impossible," she said, emphatically. "Impossible."

"Impossible, M's. Lytton?"--wiping her eyes.

"Yes, Nora."

"But why? He loves you!"

"When you were here before you gave the reason--I'm a married woman."

"But that ain't.... Why, do you _love_ your husband?"

She grasped Ann's arm and shook it gently as she put that question in a voice that the tears had made hoa.r.s.e, and leaned forward to catch the answer. For an interval Ann did not reply, gave no sign that she had heard, and Nora repeated her query with impressive slowness.

"It isn't a question of loving, Nora," she finally said. "I'm his wife; I have a wife's duty to perform."

"But do you love him?" the girl persisted.

"No, I don't any more ..."--sadly, yet without regret.

"An' you'd go back to him, M's. Lytton? You'd go back without lovin'

him?"

Incredulity was in her tone.

"Of course. It is my place. He is coming to me soon, stronger, wiser, I hope, and there's a chance that we will find at least a little peace together."

"But the' won't be love,"--in a whisper.

Ann gave a little shudder and braced her shoulders backward.

"No, Nora. That is past. Besides, I--"

"Don't be afraid to admit it!" the girl urged, speaking rapidly. "Don't be afraid to tell me. I know what you're thinkin'. You love Bruce Bayard! I know; you can't hide it from me, M's. Lytton."

Ann's fingers twisted the coverlet.