Ramrod by Luke Short

Author:Luke Short [Short, Luke]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

After the funeral. Bill Schell let Connie out of the buggy at the hotel, and Connie said, "I'll only be a minute, Bill."

She walked briskly downstreet and crossed the side street and turned into Bondurant's store. Once she was on the steps, hidden from Bill Schell's gaze, she slowed her pace and stopped. There was something so absurd in this, and faintly humiliating too. It was not too late to forget it. She could go in and ask for any of a dozen things and nobody would ever know what had been in her mind when she started. Or better yet, she could send away for it. And then a swelling of pride decided her, and she went in, turning toward the dry goods section of the store.

Martin Bondurant came up to her and greeted her, and Connie said levelly, "I want some dress goods, Mr. Bondurant."

Bondurant pulled up a small, high chair which was reserved for woman customers and seated Connie at the counter. Only when Connie looked over the bolts of rich goods stacked behind the counter did she again feel a faint contempt for herself.

Bondurant hauled down a dozen bolts, and Connie looked at them, feeling them with a faint excitement and pleasure. Bondurant did not try to sell her any certain cloth; he was wise enough to simply keep reaching down the bolts, content to let feminine nature take its course.

Finally Connie came to a rich, blue silk, and immediately her thought shuttled to Rose Leland. This was the same material as the dress Rose Leland had worn this afternoon, and it was, in a way, the cause of her being here now.

Connie said softly, "That's lovely," and Bondurant turned his head and looked at it, and smiled. "It is," he said, and then put both hands on the counter, and said smilingly, "A strange thing, Connie. A very seedy-looking puncher came in here a few days ago and bought most of that bolt. He asked me to trust him until he'd been paid."

Connie looked at the goods again, and asked in a voice she strained to make seem casual, "From what outfit?"

"Shipley's, I think," Bondurant said, and then, because he was a tactful man and did not want to embarrass Connie, he turned back to his business.

Connie's hand rested idly on the goods now. That was Dave, she thought; he had given the goods to Rose. Oddly, Connie was relieved now, and the reason gave her an obscure feeling of malice and comfort. A lot of questions she had asked herself were now answered. Rose had a free way with men, as witness her taking in of Curley and her friendship with Crew and Dave. They liked her because she gave them comfort, in what ways Connie didn't want to know. But a man who gave a girl that sort of present wasn't serious, and a girl who would take it was not the sort of girl to make him a wife. It was given in appreciation of favors granted.

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