Chapter Seven #4
“And that red skirt of Mary Holiday’s needs mending,” Hannah went on, forcing herself to forget the matter so she could attend to business.
“And then, I’m sorry but you must drop in on Lottie—she’s been whining that her gown for Midsummer Night is too plain and won’t show up at all—yes, Kyle wants to get it ready for Aspen, even though I think it’s too soon for her, and would always be too much for us to do, but I don’t have the running of things. ”
“Hannah,” Peggy said, still smiling so widely she forget to conceal the tiny gap between her two front teeth that she was usually so ashamed of. “Oh, my dear Hannah, but wasn’t it a glorious day!”
“Yes, yes,” Hannah said distractedly. “We’ll talk about it tonight,” she promised as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and tried to make a last-minute adjustment to her hair.
But Peggy’s sudden change of expression was clearly reflected behind her.
It wasn’t her expression of hurt confusion so much as the eloquent way her small shoulders slumped that made Hannah spin around.
Then she crossed her arms in front of her, leaned back against the vanity table, and sighed.
“Very well,” Hannah said with an encouraging smile. “Tonight’s a year away then, isn’t it? Tell me, what did he say?”
“No, no, you’re right, I’m that foolish,” Peggy said. She began bustling about the room in a whirlwind of ineffectiveness, looking for things to pick up and put down again, before she stopped, shrugged, and said, “Och, well, but you see, I never walked out with a gentleman before.”
Hannah’s pretended smile widened into one of real relief, “Ah, so it’s the novelty of the situation, and not the fellow himself that’s got you into such a twitter.”
“Oh no,” Peggy said at once, a faint high flush coming to her round cheeks. “It’s never just that. He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before.”
“And you’ve met so many gentlemen,” Hannah said.
“Well,” Peggy said, straightening her spine and looking at Hannah with an unconscious haughtiness, “ ‘tis true, I haven’t walked out with a gent before, but that don’t mean I don’t know them.
I’ve four brothers, Miz Hannah, and more uncles than I know what to do with, and there’s the neighbors, too—we live on top of each other at home, and what’s one person’s business is everyone’s, and they’ve all got friends—yes, I know a great many men, I do.
But none like Royal Atkins, that I’ll swear.
He’s kind and handsome and has a good heart, too. ”
“Splendid. And what else do you know about him?” Hannah asked, though she hated to.
But although she disliked being devil’s advocate, she knew an unhappy affair was the last thing Peggy needed.
When she saw Peggy’s chin come up, she’d a moment to worry and wonder if she’d challenged her because Peggy’s having a happy affair was the last thing she herself needed.
“I know a good bit about him,” Peggy said proudly.
“He’s an orphan and has got no family at all, and he’s worked for Mr. Dylan’s family for most of his grown life so that he’s ready to strike out on his own now.
And he’s got a bit of land that he’s thinking of settling on to raise cattle and horses and especially palomino horses, which he says are the prettiest on the face of the green earth; and he had a spotted dog named Bango when he was a boy—and he loves fried chicken and biscuits, and he plays the harmonica. ”
Hannah blinked.
“Heavens!” she said, when she could. “I’d no idea. You do know a thing or two about him, don’t you? I didn’t hear you two talking together at all.”
“Well, and that’s maybe because you and Mr. Dylan was laughing and joshing so much,” Peggy said.
“Yes. Well,” Hannah said. “But still, one swallow doesn’t make a summer. You’ve only gone with him once.”
“Aye,” Peggy agreed sadly. “And who knows if we’ll meet again, for he said nothing to me about it when we parted. But still, I’d this afternoon, didn’t I? And I thank you for it, Hannah, I do.”
“Don’t thank me,” Hannah began, relieved that she was “Hannah” again and not “Miz Hannah,” but Peggy interrupted her to add, “for you know I’d not have walked out with him by myself.
No, even the nicest fellow can get the wrong idea of a girl that way.
And if he did, why, he’d not be that nice to her anymore.
‘Tis the way of the world,” she sighed. And she said more briskly, “But now then, you and Mr. Dylan never stopped laughing. It was a treat to watch you. Are you going to see him again? What sort of fellow is he?”
“He’s a rancher, and he lives in Wyoming, and he loves the theater and he’s been to college and to Europe and he…Hannah paused, realizing that she’d laughed a great deal and had a fine time, but even after all that time in his company, she didn’t know much more about Gray Dylan than that.
“He’s a very slick character,” Hannah said finally, “and I certainly don’t expect to see him again, because I don’t believe he’s used to such tame entertainments as picnics, and not by word or gesture did I imply I was used to anything else.
Quite the contrary,” she said, remembering how she’d changed the subject whenever the conversation had drifted toward anything to do with men and women and what they did together.
Then remembering how often it had, her own cheeks flushed as she added, “I’m glad I hadn’t your hopes when I set out, or I’d be very set down now.
But you had better be careful of your fried-chicken-fancying, harmonica-playing Mr. Atkins if you see him again, because birds of a feather flock together, you know. ”
“Och, but wouldn’t that maybe mean it’s Mr. Dylan who’s not so bad then?” Peggy answered, and Hannah was amazed, but it truly did seem as if Irish eyes did smile.
“And she’s got four brothers, too,” Royal said as he sat across the table from Gray talking about Peggy while he wolfed his dinner so that he could go on talking and still appease other more mundane hungers.
“But she started sewing early and makes more money than any of her brothers now. And sends most of it home to her ma. Her ma sews, too.”
“And has a bunion on her big toe on her left foot, too, you’ll be telling me next.
Lord, Royal, you know everything but her grandma’s first name—no, I don’t want to hear it if you do,” Gray said as Royal tried to speak.
“She’s turned you into a regular chatterbox,” he said wonderingly.
“Yet I never saw such a pair of clams when we started out. What did you do? Use sign, like Indians?”
“She just needed some warming up. She never walked out with a fellow before,” Royal said, and seeing the amusement in Gray’s eyes, added with a look in his own that would have made most men reach for their guns, “and I believe her.”
Gray held up both hands as though surrendering, and said, “I wasn’t going to say a thing. But if I was,” he added, lowering his hands as Royal lowered his lashes in embarrassment, “I’d remind you that you only walked out with her once, and that she works in the theater.”
“She sews,” Royal said flatly, addressing his steak. “Miz Roberts works there, too, and you were having a high old time with her. Near broke your neck trying to for the last couple of weeks, too, Peggy says.”
Gray had a sudden, eerie premonition that he’d be hearing “Peggy says” for a long time to come.
Well, why not, he thought, she seemed like a good girl, or at least one that wouldn’t harm Royal.
And for a certainty, the way Royal was talking and acting, he’d never harm her.
No, his intentions were abundantly clear.
Gray would have preferred Royal finding a girl from a rich family so he could improve his stake with his marriage, but he could hardly disapprove of him disregarding that, as he himself had all these years.
If he felt any slight unease, it was that his tongue-tied friend had found out his girl’s whole history down to when she lost her first milk tooth, or so it seemed, and all he himself had found out about the mysterious Miz Roberts was that she was wonderful company, very smart, had a fine sense of humor, loved the theater and distrusted him with some intensity.
It wasn’t as though he hadn’t tried to discover more, but she was as adept at changing the subject as she was at making him laugh.
If there was going to be any joy forthcoming from those quarters, he mused, pausing to reflect on just which quarters would bring the most joy, it would take time to discover them.
Maybe more time than he had. Or at least, more than he was willing to spend, for it occurred to him that he’d all the time in the world for anything he wanted.
Royal clearly didn’t.
“I’m following along to Leadville,” he said before he took a mouthful of bread and gravy.
“You like their version of Little Lord Fauntleroy that much, do you?” Gray asked.
“God, no,” Royal said. “It’s poor. Poorer when you see it a few times. Though Peggy says they’ll be doing A Midsummer Night’s Dream next.”
“Bet you can hardly wait,” Gray said.
“Don’t care if I ever see it,” Royal answered. “But I’m seeing her again.”
Gray nodded and took a swallow of coffee, waiting to see when it would occur to Royal. It took three seconds.
“Gray,” Royal said, suddenly putting down his fork and knife, and looking steadily at his friend.
“She’s a good girl a long ways from home.
So, no matter what, I know she won’t come out with me alone.
Can’t blame her,” he said with as much pleasure as wonder.
“So…would you…? Damn,” he said when Gray only smiled at him.
“I’ll ask you proper. I’d hold it a favor. So…you coming?”
“Oh. Well. Yeah. I suppose I have to, then,” Gray grumbled, delighted.