Nella-Rose, however, was plotting an attack upon Truedale quite out of the common. By unspoken consent he and she had agreed that their meetings should be in the open. Jim White might return at anytime and neither of them wanted at first to include him in the bewildering drama of their lives. For different reasons they knew that Jim’s cold understanding of duty would shatter the sacred security that was all theirs. Truedale meant to confide everything to White upon his return—meant to rely upon him in the reconstruction of his life; but he knew nothing could be so fatal to the future as any conflict at the present with the sheriff’s strict ideas of conduct. As for Nella-Rose, she had reason to fear White’s power as woman-hater and upholder of law and order. She simply eliminated Jim and, in order to do this, she must keep him in the dark.
Early that morning she had looked, as she did every day, from the hill behind the house and she had seen but one thin curl of smoke from the clearing! If White had not returned the night before the chances were that he would make another day of it! Nella-Rose often wondered why others did not note the tell-tale smoke—a clue which often played a vital part in the news of the hills. Only because thoughts were focussed on the Hollow and on White’s absence, was Truedale secure in his privacy.
“I’ll hurry mighty fast to the Centre,” Nella-Rose concluded, after escaping from Marg’s disturbed gaze, “then I’ll hide the things by the big road and I’ll—go to his cabin. I’ll—I’ll surprise him!”
Truedale had told her the day before, in a moment of caution, that he would have to work hard for a time in order to make ready for White’s return. The fact was he had now got to that point in his story when he longed for Jim as he might have longed for safety on a troubled sea. With Jim back and fully informed—everything on ahead would be safe.
“I’ll surprise him!” murmured Nella-Rose, with the dimples in full play at the corners of her mouth; “old Jim White can’t keep me away. I’ll watch out—it’s just for a minute; I’ll be back by sundown; it will be only to say ‘how-de?’”
Something argued with the girl as she ran on—something quite new and uncontrolled. Heretofore no law but that of the wilds had entered into her calculations. To get what she could of happiness and life—to make as little fuss as possible—that had been her code; but now, the same restraint that had held Marg from going to the Hollow awhile back, when she thought that, with night, Burke Lawson might disclose his whereabouts, held Nella-Rose! So insistent was the rising argument that it angered the girl. “Why? Why?” her longings and desires cried. “Because! Because!” was the stern response, and the woman in Nella-Rose thrilled and throbbed and trembled, while the girlish spirit pleaded for the excitement of joy and sweetness that was making the grim stretches of her narrow existence radiant and full of meaning.
On she went doggedly. The dimples disappeared; the mouth fell into the pathetic, drooping lines that by and by, unless something saved Nella-Rose, would become permanent and mark her as a hill-woman—one to whom soul visions were denied.
CHAPTER VI
Wisdom had all but conquered Nella-Rose’s folly when she came in sight of Calvin Merrivale’s store. But—who knows?—perhaps the girl’s story had been written long since, and she was not entirely free. Be that as it may, she paused, for no reason whatever as far as she could tell, and carefully took one dozen eggs from the basket and hid them under some bushes by the road! Having done this she went forward so blithely and lightly that one might have thought her load had been considerably eased. She appeared before Calvin Merrivale, presently, like a refreshing apparition from vacancy. It was high noon and Merrivale was dozing in a chair by the rusty stove, in which a fire, prepared against the evening chill, was already burning.