Blood Duel

Chapter 17

Jeeter Frost was happy. He could not remember the last time he was happy. Truly, really, feel-it-in-his-heart happy. He kept wanting to pinch himself to see if he was awake.

Amazing, the difference a woman made, Jeeter mused. He breathed deep of the dry earthy smell of the prairie. In the gathering twilight he and the gruella were moving shadows. He rose in the stirrups but could not see the schoolhouse. Soon, he told himself. Be patient.

But it was hard to be patient when Jeeter spent every minute away from Ernestine thinking about her, missing her, wishing he was with her. He had never felt this way about anyone except maybe his mother when he was small, and that had not been the same.

There was a word for how Jeeter felt. A word he never expected to apply to him. A word others experienced but never him. Until now.

Jeeter was in love. There. He admitted it. But admitting it did not make him feel any more comfortable about it. He was happy, yes, but he was uneasy as well. Because when you cared for someone, when you wanted them as much as he wanted Ernestine, you put yourself at risk. The risk it might not last. The risk that you might lose them.

Never in his life had Jeeter been so scared of anything as he was of losing Ernestine. Part of his fear stemmed from his astonishment that a fine lady like her cared for a worthless husk like him. Another part stemmed from the fact that she had not made her own feelings plain. All the hours they had been together, all the intimate moments they shared, and not once had she come right out and revealed her feelings. He took it for granted she liked him as much as he liked her, but what if he was wrong? he asked himself. What if it was one-sided?

Jeeter decided enough was enough. Tonight he would ask her. Tonight he would find out the truth. It made him nervous. It could be he would spoil everything. It could be she was not ready to commit herself.

“God, why is life so mixed up sometimes?” Jeeter asked the gruella. He spied a white shape in the distance, and a swarm of butterflies took wing in his stomach.

The lamp was in the window, her signal it was safe.

Jeeter came to the back of the schoolhouse and reined up. He let the reins dangle, not the least worried about the gruella wandering off. It never did. That horse was the one constant in his life, the only thing besides himself that he had depended on all these years.

At Jeeter’s light knock Ernestine opened the door. Where previous nights she had drawn him into her arms and warmly kissed him, tonight she stepped to one side and said formally, “Welcome, Mr. Frost. Come in and have a seat, won’t you?”

The swarm multiplied into a legion. Jeeter’s legs felt rubbery as he moved past her, his spurs jingling. “Is something the matter, ma’am?”

“What could be the matter?” Ernestine rejoined. “I just want to talk.”

Jeeter went all the way to her desk, faced her, and leaned against it with his arms across his chest. He should say something but his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.

Her hands clasped in front of her, Ernestine came slowly down the aisle. “I have been doing some thinking,” she said softly. “Some serious thinking about you and me.”

Oh no, Jeeter thought.

“I feel I have been remiss in a certain respect,” Ernestine said. “I have let things get out of hand.”

Jeeter found his voice although it did not sound like him. “In what way?”

Ernestine stopped, her head bowed. “I have let you take liberties. Liberties no one has ever taken with me.”

“Do you regret those liberties?” Jeeter asked, his voice much calmer than he felt. His happiness, his future, rested on her answer.

“I do.”

The room spun, and Jeeter reached behind him to brace himself. His throat had become so dry he had to swallow several times before he could say, “I am right sorry to hear that, Ernestine.”

“You can’t blame me. A woman has her reputation to think of. If our trysts were to become common knowledge, I would lose my job. The stigma would follow me wherever I went.”

“I am a stigma now?” Jeeter was not sure what that meant, but it did not sound flattering.

“You can’t help it,” Ernestine said. “Your past has caught up with you.”

“Oh,” was all Jeeter could think of to say.

“Please understand. A woman in my position must stay above reproach. The slightest suggestion of impropriety and my life is in shambles. I do not want that. I do not want that at all.”

“I wouldn’t want that for you, either,” Jeeter admitted. Invisible hands had hold of his chest and were squeezing, and the cozy schoolhouse with its comfortable glow had become cold and sterile.

“You can see what I am leading up to, can’t you?” Ernestine asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jeeter said, devastated. He had to get out of there before he made a spectacle of himself.

“Haven’t you something you would like to say?”

Jeeter had never suspected she could be so heartless. To cast him aside, and then want him to speak. She might as well bury a knife in him and be done with it. “Not especially, ma’am, no.”

“Nothing at all?”

“What is there to talk about?” Jeeter asked. “You have made up your mind. I don’t agree but I respect you too much to argue.”

Ernestine’s right hand rose to her throat. “This is not what I expected. This is not what I expected at all.”

“You and me both, ma’am.” Jeeter was fit to burst. “I reckon I’ll be going. Don’t fret none. I won’t grace your doorstep ever again.”

“Oh, Mr. Frost.”

Forcing his legs to work, Jeeter touched his hat brim. “I apologize for any inconvenience I caused you.”

“Inconvenience?” Ernestine repeated, and uttered a strange little laugh. “I would not have traded places with any woman in the world.”

Jeeter was only half listening. He moved past her, saying to himself, “I ain’t never been in love before.” A hand caught his sleeve, bringing him to a stop, and he was acutely conscious of the warmth she gave off as she stepped up close to him.

“What did you just stay?”

“I would rather not repeat it, Ernestine. It hurts too much.”

“No. Please. I am not sure I heard you correctly. What did you say?”

Jeeter could not look her in the eyes. His own were misting and he had to restrain himself from tearing them out of their sockets. “I said I ain’t never been in love before. That’s not good grammar, but since you are tossing me out I reckon grammar don’t mean much to me anymore.”

“Oh God,” Ernestine said.

“If there is one he is laughing himself silly at my expense for thinking a beautiful lady like you could care for me.”

“Oh, Jeeter.”

“That’s all right, ma’am. I made a fool of myself. I accept the blame. Just let me go now so I can suffer in peace.”

“You truly love me?”

Jeeter halfheartedly sought to tug his arm loose, but she would not let go. “It is cruel to rub it in like that. Laugh when I am gone.”

Suddenly Ernestine’s arms were around him and she was pressing a wet cheek to his. “Oh, you magnificent, wonderful fool, you.”

“Was that a compliment or an insult? It sort of sounded like both.” Jeeter was more confused than he could ever recall being. “And why are you crying, Ernestine? I am doing what you want. Let me reach the door and you will be shed of me.”

“But I do not want to be shed of you,” Ernestine said huskily. “I love you.”

Jeeter needed a pinch more than ever. Either that, or a kick to the head. “I don’t savvy any of this. A minute ago you were kicking me out. Now you are in love with me? I know females are supposed to be fickle, but you take it too far.”

“Oh, Jeeter, Jeeter, Jeeter,” Ernestine said, and pressing her face to his neck, she began to cry.

“Dear God. Not tears, too.” When she did not respond, Jeeter stood and let her weep herself dry. He had heard somewhere that was the best thing to do. She was a good while stopping, though.

Then Ernestine drew back, sniffled, and said, “Excuse me.” She went to her desk, opened the top drawer, and took out a handkerchief. Turning her back to him, she dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose. “Sorry,” she said when she eventually turned around.

“Do I go or do I stay?” Jeeter asked.

“You stay if you want to and—”

“I want to more than anything,” Jeeter interrupted.

“You did not let me finish,” Ernestine said, but not unkindly. “You can stay if you want to and if you were telling the truth about being in love with me.”

“Do you want the plain of it, Ernestine?”

“I would like that very much.”

“I have never been in love before, so maybe I don’t rightly know exactly how a body should feel when he is. But if love is wanting someone more than you have ever wanted anything, if love is hurting inside when you are away from them, if love is wishing you could spend every minute of the day with them instead of only a few hours at night, if love is being confused all the time and not quite knowing why you are confused, then, by God, I am in love.”

“My sweet Jeeter.”

“If you don’t feel the same, tell me now and I will go,” Jeeter said. “I would never inflict myself on you, not in a million years. You are the nicest, kindest, prettiest gal in all creation, and the last thing I ever want to do, the very last thing, is to hurt you.”

Ernestine came down the aisle and embraced him. “We have been at cross-purposes.”

“If you say so. All I know is that I about passed out when I thought you did not want to see me anymore.”

“We can’t have that,” Ernestine said quietly, and giggled. “You are a fine man, Jeeter Frost.”

“That is the first time anyone has ever said anything like that to me,” Jeeter informed her.

“Get used to it,” Ernestine said. “I will compliment you often, for you have many fine qualities, whether you admit them or not.”

“A lot of folks would disagree.”

“I am not them.” Ernestine raised her head and looked him in the eyes. “I am the one person in this world who loves you with all her heart and will stand by you forever if you will stand by her.”

“Does this mean what I think it do?”

“What you think it does,” Ernestine corrected him. “Yes, I guess so. I have just asked you to marry me.”

Jeeter had not meant that. He had not meant that at all. He was just getting this love business worked out in his head and now she sprang marriage on him. He was so stunned, he could not think of any words to say.

“Cat have your tongue?”

“More like a grizzly,” Jeeter said. “We need to back up.”

“We do?”

“You just asked me to marry you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not right. I may not never been married, but I know the man is supposed to do the asking.”

“Who says? There is no law dictating that the man must always broach the subject. A woman is entitled, if she desires. And you, dear man, have a knack for tying your tongue in knots.”

“You noticed?” Jeeter sheepishly smiled. “All right. Let’s say I let it pass so long as you never tell anyone it was you who asked me and not me who asked you. Do you have any notion what you are letting yourself in for?”

“I believe I do, yes, but you may clarify it for me.”

“You saw the penny dreadful. Everyone considers me a killer. Not fit for polite company. If you marry me, they will think you ain’t fit for polite company, neither.”

“Either,” Ernestine corrected. “And what have I told you about using ain’t?”

“Sorry. My mouth keeps forgetting what my head has learned.”

Ernestine clasped his hands in hers. “Jeeter, I do not care what others think. That is bold, yes, but love is bold. The fault is theirs. Judge not, the Good Book says, yet they have judged you, and wrongly, at that.”

Jeeter encompassed the schoolhouse with a sweep of his chin. “But what about your job? Some folks are bound to raise a fuss and say it’s not right, you teaching children when you have taken up with the likes of me.”

Ernestine hesitated. “I have an idea, Jeeter. I do not know if you will like it, but here goes.” She took a deep breath. “What do you say to getting married before the hour is up? To finding the justice of the peace and saying our vows? Then in the morning we will head wherever you want, somewhere new, somewhere we can both start over fresh.”

“Do you have a place in mind?”

“I have been thinking California would be nice,” Ernestine said. “It is far enough from your usual haunts that you can change your name and no one will ever know you. And they are in need of teachers.”

“California?” Jeeter had been thinking maybe Topeka.

“Is there a problem?”

“No, no, not at all,” Jeeter said. “California is a far piece, but if that is how far we have to go to live our lives in peace and quiet, then California it is.”

“In that case, let us find the justice of the peace.”

A flash of fear spiked through Jeeter, and he froze.

“What is it?” Ernestine asked.

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want to ruin your life.”

Ernestine laughed and drew him to her. “Silly man. I am as certain as I have ever been about anything. Now kiss me, and then we will begin our marvelous future together.”

“Together,” Jeeter Frost breathed in awe.