Without waiting for any reply, the old man passed out to the cook-stove, and he felt happier in his familiar surroundings. He set beans enough for a starving man on Molly’s plate. He buttered some bread, and then he dipped out a mug of tea, which he duly sweetened. After that he returned to the girl’s bedroom, careful to knock on the door before entering.
The girl was sitting up. She was still looking ill. But her fainting had passed, and she looked very little different from her usual self. She protested at his offer of food, but accepted the tea eagerly. Lightning set the rest on the chair beside her bed.
“You jest got to eat that, Molly, gal,” he said, with a bluffness that was only a mask. “You surely hev. You’re sick. An’ you need food. That’s so. Now, gal, you eat, jest to make me feel good. I’m going right along to fix things.”
He took himself off before the girl could refuse him, and he knew his going was a cowardly retreat. He passed down to the barn and saddled his horse, and fed and looked to his team. Then he returned to the house to snatch his own food. He would go in and see Molly before he went. He remembered he had mentioned getting the doctor to her when she was still dazed, and he hoped and feared for the foolishness of doing so. He hated deceiving her, but he knew he must do so. If he told her now he intended to get the doctor she would in all probability refuse her sanction. Blanche had warned him of the necessity. So his mind was irrevocably made up, and he approached her again with considerable trepidation.
Molly’s food was untouched. The girl was sitting on the side of her bed when Lightning entered the room. She had re-fixed her waist where the old man’s fingers had loosened it. And when he appeared she looked up and shook her head unsmilingly.
“I’m all right, Lightning,” she said quietly. “Guess it must have been the sun. I don’t know. Anyway, don’t worry for me. You’ve been so good to me. I—say, I’ll fix these things. I’ll——”
She passed a hand wearily across her forehead. It was a gesture of mental rather than bodily weariness.
Lightning saw the gesture. He saw the weary spirit looking out of the tired eyes, and his heart bled for her.
“Then I’ll get along, Molly, gal,” he said eagerly. “You won’t be needin’ me in awhile. I’ll get along in to supper. Ther’ ain’t a thing else you need, sure?”
“Not a thing.”