The three of us then continued on toward home in the shortest direction and on the way I whispered to Samuels what we had seen. The old man chuckled, for he thought as I did that my ruse must have effectually baffled Johansen-unless he had followed Moses farther than we guessed. We each turned a little white as the consequences of such a possibility were borne home upon us. We did not want Peter to know that we even guessed that we were followed and so we never once looked behind us, not even Juana, which was remarkable for a woman, nor did we see him again, though we felt that he was following us. I for one was sure, though, that he was following at a safer distance since I had joined Samuels.
Very cautiously during the ensuing week the word was passed around by means with which we were familiar that Johansen had followed Samuels from church; but as the authorities paid no more attention to Moses than before we finally concluded that we had thrown Peter off the trail.
The Sunday following church we were all seated in Jim’s yard under one of his trees that had already put forth its young leaves and afforded shade from the sun. We had been talking of homely things-the conning crops, the newborn kids, Mollies little pigs. The world seemed unusually kindly. The authorities had not persecuted us of late. A respite of two weeks seemed like heaven to us. We were quite sure by this time that Peter Johansen had discovered nothing and our hearts were freer than for a long time past.
We were sitting thus in quiet and contentment, enjoying a brief rest from our lives of drudgery, when we heard the pounding of horses’ hoofs upon the hard earth of the path that leads down the river in the direction of the market place. Suddenly the entire atmosphere changed-relaxed nerves became suddenly taut; peaceful eyes resumed their hunted expression. Why? The Kash Guard rides.
And so they came-fifty of them-and at their head rode Brother General Or-tis. At the gateway of Jim’s house they drew rein and Or-tis dismounted and entered the yard. He looked at us as a man might look at carrion; and he gave us no greeting, which suited us perfectly. He walked straight to Juana, who was seated on a little bench beside which I stood leaning against the bole of the tree. None of us moved. He halted before the girl.
“I have come to tell you,” he said to her, “that I have done you the honor to choose you as my woman, to bear my children and keep my house in order.”
He stood then looking at her and I could feel the hair upon my head rise and the corners of my upper lip twitched-I know not why. I only know that I wanted to fly at his throat and kill him, to tear his flesh with my teeth-to see him diet And then he looked at me and stepped back, after which he beckoned to some of his men to enter. When they had come he again addressed Juana, who had risen and stood swaying to and fro, as might one who has been dealt a heavy blow upon the head and half stunned.
“You may come with me now,” he said to her, and then I stepped between them and faced him and again he stepped back a pace.
“She will not come with you now, or ever,” I said, and my voice was very low-not above a whisper. “She is my woman-I have taken her!”
It was a lie-the last part, but what is a lie to a man who would commit murder in the same cause. He was among his men now-they were close around him and I suppose they gave him courage, for he addressed me threateningly.
“I do not care whose she is,” he cried, “I want her and I shall have her. I speak for her now and I speak for her when she is a widow. After you are dead I have first choice of her and traitors do not live long.”
“I am not dead yet,” I reminded him. He turned to Juana.
“You shall have thirty days as the law requires; but you can save your friends trouble if you come now-they will not be molested then and I will see that their taxes are lowered.”
Juana gave a little gasp and looked around at us and then she straightened her shoulders and came close to me.
“No!” she said to Or-tis. “I will never go. This is my man-he has taken me. Ask him if he will give me up to you. You will never have me-alive.”
“Don’t be too sure of that,” he growled. “I believe that you are both lying to me, for I have had you watched and I know that you do not live under the same roof. And you!” he glared at me. “Tread carefully, for the eyes of the law find traitors where others do not see them.” Then he turned and strode from the yard. A minute later they were gone in a cloud of dust.
Now our happiness and peace had fled-it was always thus-and there was no hope. I dared not look at Juana after what I had said; but then, had she not said the same thing? We all talked lamely for a few minutes and then father and mother rose to go and a moment later Jim and Mollie went indoors.
I turned to Juana. She stood with her eyes upon the ground and a pretty flush upon her cheek. Something surged up in me-a mighty force, that I had never known, possessed me, and before I realized what it impelled me to do I had seized Juana in my arms and was covering her face and lips with kisses.
She fought to free herself, but I would not let her go.
“You are mine!” I cried. “You are my woman. I have said it-you have said. You are my woman. God, how I love you!”
She lay quiet then and let me kiss her, and presently her arms stole about my neck and her lips sought mine in an interval that I had drawn them away and they moved upon my lips in a gentle caress that was yet palpitant with passion. This was a new Juana-a new and very wonderful Juana.
“You really love me?” she asked at last. “I heard you say it!”
“I have loved you from the moment I saw you looking up at me from beneath the Hellhound,” I replied.
“You have kept it very much of a secret to yourself then,” she teased me. “If you loved me so, why did you not tell me? Were you going to keep it from me all my life, or were you afraid? Brother Or-tis was not afraid to say that he wanted me. Is my man less brave than he?”
I knew that she was only teasing me, and so I stopped her mouth with kisses and then: “Had you been a Hellhound, or Soor, or even Or-tis,” I said, “I could have told you what I thought of you, but being Juana and a little girl the words would not come. I am a great coward.”
We talked until it was time to go home to supper and I took her hand to lead her to my house. “But first,” I said, “you must tell Mollie and Jim what has happened and that you will not be back. For a while we can live, under my father’s roof, but as soon as may be I will get permission from the Teivos to take the adjoining land and work it and then I shall build a house.” She drew back and flushed. “I cannot go with you yet,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “You are mine!”
“We have not been married,” she whispered.
“But no one is married,” I reminded her. “Marriage is against the law.”
“My mother was married,” she told me. “You and I can be married. We have a church and a preacher. Why cannot he marry us? He is not ordained because there is none to ordain him; but being the head of the only church that he knows of or that we know of, it is evident that he can be ordained only by God and who knows but that He already has done so.”
I tried to argue her out of it as now that Heaven was so near I had no mind to wait three weeks to attain it. But she would not argue-she just shook her head and at last saw that she was right and gave in-as I would have had to do in any event.
The next day I sought Orrin Colby and broached the subject to him. He was quite enthusiastic about it and wondered that they had never thought of it before. Of course, they had not because marriage had been obsolete for so many years that no one considered the ceremony necessary, nor, in fact, was it. Men and women were more often faithful to one another through life than otherwise-no amount of ceremony or ritual could make them more so. But if a woman wants it she should have it. And so it was arranged that at the next meeting Juana and I should be married.