The Triumph of John Kars Part 38

Jessie nodded.

"It's spring--isn't it?" she said smiling.

Her reply summed up her whole mood. The priest understood.

"Surely. And it's good to see the spring, my child. It's good for everybody, young and old. But," he added with a sigh, "it's specially good for us up here. The Indians die like flies in winter. But your mother's asking for you."

The girl hurried on. Perhaps second to her love for John Kars came her affection for her brave mother.

Ailsa Mowbray met her at the threshold.

"Murray's asking for you," she said, in her simply direct fas.h.i.+on.

"He's got plans and things he needs to fix. He told me this morning, but I guess he needs to explain them himself. Will you go along up to the Fort?"

There was nothing in the mother's manner to invite the quick look of doubt which her words inspired.

Murray had only arrived from Leaping Horse two days before. Since that time he had been buried under an avalanche of arrears of work. Even his meals had had to be sent up to him at the Fort. He had brought back reports of Alec's well-being for the mother and sister. He had brought back all that abounding good-nature and physical and mental energy which dispelled the last shadows of winter loneliness from these women. Ailsa Mowbray had carried on the easy work of winter at the store, but she was glad of the relief from responsibility which Murray's return gave her.

But he had laid before her the necessity of a flying visit up country at once, and had urged her to again carry on the store duties in his absence. Furthermore he had suggested that Jessie's a.s.sistance should be enlisted during his absence, since Alec was away, and the work would be heavier now that spring was opening.

The mother had reluctantly agreed. For herself she had been willing enough. But for Jessie she had stipulated that he should place the matter before her himself. She had no desire that the one child remaining to her should be made to slave her days at the Fort. She would use none of her influence. Her whole interest in the trade which had been her life for so long was waning. There were times when she realized, in the loneliness which had descended upon them with Alec's going, that only habit kept her to the life, and even that held her only by the lightest thread. It was coming to her that the years were pa.s.sing swiftly. The striving of the days at the side of her idolized husband had seemed not only natural, but a delight to her. Since his cruel end no such feeling had stirred her. There were her children, and she had realized that the work must go on for them. But now--now that Alec had gone to the world outside her whole perspective had changed. And with the change had come the realization of rapidly pa.s.sing years.

There were times, even, when she speculated as to how and where she could set up a new home for her children. A home with which Alec could find no fault, and Jessie might have the chances due to her age. But these things were kept closely to herself. The habit of years was strong upon her, and, for all her understanding of her wealth, it was difficult to make a change.

"Can't you tell me, mother? I'd rather have you explain!"

The likeness between mother and daughter was very strong. Even in the directness with which they expressed their feelings. Jessie's feelings were fully displayed in the expression of her preference.

"Why don't you want to see Murray?"

The mother's question came on the instant. It came with a suggestion of reproach.

"Oh, I'm not scared, mother," the girl smiled. "Only I don't just see why Murray should ask me things you don't care to ask me. That's all."

"Is it?" The mother's eyes were searching.

"Nearly."

Jessie laughed.

"Best tell me the rest."

The girl shook her head decidedly.

"No, mother. There's no need. You're wiser than you pretend.

Murray's a better friend and partner--in business--than anything else.

Guess we best leave it that way."

"Yes, it's best that way." The mother was regarding the pretty face before her with deep affection. "But I told Murray he'd have to lay his plans before you--himself. That's why he wants to see you up at the Fort."

The girl's response came at once, and with an impulsive readiness.

"Then I'll go up, right away," she said. Nor was there the smallest display of any of the reluctance she really felt.

The girl stood framed in the great gateway of the old stockade. The oilskin reached almost to her slim ankles. It was dripping and the hat of the same material which almost entirely enveloped her ruddy brown head was trailing a stream of water on to her shoulders.

Murray McTavish saw her from the window of his office. He saw her pause for a few moments and gaze out at the distant view. He remembered seeing her stand so once before. He remembered well. He remembered her expressed fears, and all that which had happened subsequently. The smile on his round face was the same smile it had been then. Perhaps it was a smile he could not help.

This time he made no move to join her. He waited. And presently she turned and pa.s.sed round to the door of the store.

"Mother said you wanted to see me about something. Something you needed to explain--personally. That so?"

Jessie was standing beside the trader's desk. She was looking down squarely into the man's smiling face. There was a curious fearlessness in her regard that was not quite genuine. There was a brusquerie in her manner that would not have been there had there been any one else present.

She removed the oilskin hat, and laid it aside on a chair as she spoke, and the revelation of her beautiful chestnut hair, and its contrast with her gray eyes, quickened the man's pulses. He was thinking of her remarkable beauty even as he spoke.

"Say, it's good of you to come along. You best shed that oilskin."

He rose from his desk to a.s.sist. But the girl required none of his help. She slipped out of the garment before he could reach her. He accepted the situation, and drew forward the chair from the desk at which Alec had been wont to work.

"You'll sit," he said, as he placed it for her.

But Murray's consideration and politeness had no appeal for Jessie.

She was anxious to be done with the interview.

"That's all right," she said, with a short laugh. "The old hill doesn't tire me any. I got the school in an hour, so, maybe, you'll tell me about things right away."

"Ah, there's the school, and there's a heap of other things that take your time." Murray had returned to his desk, and Jessie deliberately moved to the window. "It's those things made me want to talk to you.

I was wondering how you could fix them so you could hand us a big piece of time up here."

"You want me to work around the store?"

The girl had turned. Her questioning eyes were regarding him steadily.

There was no unreality about her manner now. Murray's smile would have been disarming had she not been so used to it.

"Just while I'm--away."

There was the smallest possible twist of wryness to the man's lips as he admitted to himself the necessity for the final words.

"I see."

The girl's relief was so obvious that, for a moment, the man's gaze became averted.

Perhaps Jessie was unaware of the manner in which she had revealed her feelings. Perhaps she knew, and had even calculated it. Much of her mother's courage was hers.

"You'd better make it plain--what you want. Exactly. If it's in the interest of things, why, I'll do all I know."