American fiction -- 20th century; Arizona -- Fiction; Western stories
“There is only one God, an' Him I beseech in my humble office for the
woman an' man I have just wedded in holy bonds. Bless them an' watch
them an' keep them through all the comin' years. Bless the sons of
this strong man of the woods an' make them like him, with love an'
understandin' of the source from which life comes. Bless the daughters
of this woman an' send with them more of her love an' soul, which must
be the softenin' an' the salvation of the hard West. O Lord, blaze the
dim, dark trail for them through the unknown forest of life! O Lord,
lead the way across the naked range of the future no mortal knows! We
ask in Thy name! Amen.”
When the preacher stood up again and raised the couple from their
kneeling posture, it seemed that a grave and solemn personage had left
him. This young man was again the dark-faced, clear-eyed Roy, droll and
dry, with the enigmatic smile on his lips.
“Mrs. Dale,” he said, taking her hands, “I wish you joy.... An' now,
after this here, my crownin' service in your behalf--I reckon I'll claim
a reward.”
Then he kissed her. Bo came next with her warm and loving felicitations,
and the cowboy, with characteristic action, also made at Helen.
“Nell, shore it's the only chance I'll ever have to kiss you,” he
drawled. “Because when this heah big Indian once finds out what kissin'
is--!”
Las Vegas then proved how swift and hearty he could be upon occasions.
All this left Helen red and confused and unutterably happy. She
appreciated Dale's state. His eyes reflected the precious treasure
which manifestly he saw, but realization of ownership had not yet become
demonstrable.
Then with gay speech and happy laugh and silent look these five partook
of the supper. When it was finished Roy made known his intention to
leave. They all protested and coaxed, but to no avail. He only laughed
and went on saddling his horse.
“Roy, please stay,” implored Helen. “The day's almost ended. You're
tired.”
“Nope. I'll never be no third party when there's only two.”
“But there are four of us.”
“Didn't I just make you an' Dale one?... An', Mrs. Dale, you forget I've
been married more 'n once.”
Helen found herself confronted by an unanswerable side of the argument.
Las Vegas rolled on the grass in his mirth. Dale looked strange.
“Roy, then that's why you're so nice,” said Bo, with a little devil in
her eyes. “Do you know I had my mind made up if Tom hadn't come around I
was going to make up to you, Roy.... I sure was. What number wife would
I have been?”
It always took Bo to turn the tables on anybody. Roy looked mightily
embarrassed. And the laugh was on him. He did not face them again until
he had mounted.
“Las Vegas, I've done my best for you--hitched you to thet blue-eyed
girl the best I know how,” he declared. “But I shore ain't guaranteein'
nothin'. You'd better build a corral for her.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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