CHAPTER VIII
The morning of the day opened in a flame of rose and gold.
Sitting up in bed with the first rays of light, Jeanette Colter found her hands clasped tight, her lips set, before realizing the cause.
Afterwards she smiled, but without any especial appearance of mirth.
"I wonder why I am so determined to win?" she asked herself half aloud, dropping back again on her pillow. She hoped to go to sleep for another hour if possible, or if not to sleep at least she would relax completely, so as not to be overtired.
Breakfast would not take place until eight o'clock. Afterwards they would motor over to the Club grounds.
If Jeanette's body relaxed, her mind did not.
"Absurd of me even to consider winning!" she murmured. "Not only is my stepmother ten times more skillful a horsewoman than I, but there are a dozen other women riders with more experience. I am years the youngest, although, thank goodness, there are two other girls who have entered the contest, one eighteen and one seventeen!"
Then for an hour Jeanette slept fitfully.
When she came down to breakfast in her riding-habit she was later than any one else.
She was wearing a dark-blue cloth suit with a short coat and skirt, knee trousers and dark-brown leather leggings. The short skirt would be removed when the race began.
Jeanette discovered the room filled with people. Half a dozen outside guests were having breakfast with the family.
They were discussing the various events of the day.
Jeanette walked over to her stepmother. She had finished eating and was before an open window with John Marshall and Cecil Perry beside her. Both young men were her admirers.
Jeanette admitted to herself that she was looking extremely handsome.
Her riding costume was similar, save that it was a golden-brown cloth with the coat and skirt slightly longer.
The two suits had arrived at the ranch only the day before. Jeanette's had been a surprise gift from her stepmother. On arising that morning she had found the entire outfit on a chair beside her bed.
"I want to thank you for my new habit," Jeanette began as cordially as possible. Inwardly she was annoyed that the present had been bestowed upon her by her stepmother rather than her father, whose idea it should have been.
Jack flushed and smiled.
"Oh, don't thank me, please, Jeanette, I don't like being thanked, as I never know how to show when I am grateful."
She then moved forward to speak to their neighbors, Senator and Mrs. Marshall and Peter Stevens. They were at this moment entering the dining-room door which opened on to a broad veranda.
"We have stopped by to wish you good-luck, Mrs. Colter," Senator Marshall remarked. He was a middle-aged man, the father of the younger man who was a friend and frequent visitor at the Rainbow Ranch.
Jack extended her hand. She looked very like the girl, Jacqueline Ralston, whom her old friends remembered and loved.
"I am so glad to see you, but please don't wish me good-luck; Jeanette must win, if either of us has the good fortune. She has been learning to be a better rider than I am.
"Do try and persuade my husband to be more cheerful. After agreeing to allow Jeanette and me to enter and showing a proper interest in our training, this morning he is suddenly depressed. I don't believe he has ever appeared more so save during the months when I ran for Congress and you were so impolite as to defeat me, Peter Stevens."
As his wife concluded the greeting of her three additional guests, Mr. Colter came forward.
"I do feel a surprising antagonism to Jeanette's and Jack's riding against each other in to-day's contest. I know it is too late now to offer any objection and not fair to be discouraging. But I don't believe I realized until this morning how large the number of spectators would be. It is a wonderful day and no one will remain at home."
Jack laughed and placed her arm on her husband's arm.
"Why should you mind our being rivals in the race if we do not? Neither do we seriously object to the size of our audience."
A quarter of an hour later a line of automobiles and of open carriages were on their way to the Club grounds. The motors far outnumbered the others, nevertheless there were a few carriages drawn by handsome horses. Other vehicles, less impressive, were being pulled along by smaller Western ponies, broken for driving as well as riding.
In their own car Jeanette sat facing her father with Lina on one side of her and Eda on the other. Via was between her stepmother and father.
In the midst of her own strong effort to appear indifferent, Jeanette was aware of the unusual gravity of her father and also of her younger sister's white seriousness. But then Via was always apt to catch other people's moods and more than usually sympathetic with her father.
Halfway to the club, Jeanette found her father's glance catching her own.
"You will be careful to-day, Jeanette? Promise me? If anything should happen to you I should feel responsible. You are too young for such an experience. Won't you simply try to ride as well as possible but make no effort to win? In any case it would be out of the question."
Via touched her hand.
"Please promise, Jeanette. I am anxious about you too," the younger girl pleaded.
A low burst of laughter came from Cecil Perry, who was seated next the chauffeur. It may not have borne any relation to the conversation which he was overhearing, nevertheless it irritated Jeanette, whose nerves were less under her control than she appreciated.
Observing that her sister did not intend to reply, Lina made a hasty remark to fill the breach.
In spite of the fact that the entire audience had been invited, there were many spectators crowding the grounds.
Overhead the sky was a thick, warm blue, while from across the prairies the midsummer wind blew sweet and strong.
Jeanette stood close beside her father, feeling a keen desire to apologize to him for her attitude since his marriage. She would abandon entering the race at this last moment if he so desired.
Suppose she should be regarded as a coward, after all what did this matter?
At present there was no time for discussion. A group of friends came hurrying toward them and soon Jeanette found herself separated from her father. Fifteen minutes later she and her stepmother were beside their horses talking to the men who had brought them over from the Rainbow Ranch.
Jeanette laid her hand for a moment against her horse's nose. He was quivering with an excitement keen as her own and as poorly concealed.
Her stepmother was to ride a horse which had been presented her by her husband before their marriage. Jeanette's was not her own, but one she had chosen from among the ponies on the Rainbow Ranch. On ordinary occasions she had never been permitted to use him, as he was a singularly spirited and beautiful animal. During the weeks of training for to-day's event she had ridden no other mount.
The next three-quarters of an hour Jeanette remained in her place watching other exhibitions of skill. Upon former occasions she had been entranced by the same kind of spectacle, but at present found it difficult to feel more than a passing interest.
Once she managed to reach a certain degree of enthusiasm, when Billy Preston, one of the assistant managers of their own Rainbow Ranch, received the first prize for the finest exhibition of skill in subduing one of the unbroken Western ponies.
Then Jeanette's interest lapsed until a few moments before her own contest.
No one who has not lived in the West may be able to understand Jeanette's point of view, nor that of her family and friends.
The capital of the state was the largest city she had ever seen in her life. Wyoming was an outdoor state. The people of the state took the deepest interest in outdoor sports which were an especial feature of the ranch life and training. There was nothing out of the way in the fact that Jeanette and Mrs. Colter and a dozen other women and girls were to take part in one of to-day's riding events.
Jeanette took a final long survey of the field.
They were not to ride around an ordinary track. Their race would be across the open field. In the vista she could observe small ditches that must be successfully jumped, an occasional fence of the height usual in the Western ranch to prevent the straying of the cattle. In so far as possible the course had been made to appear like a stretch of land across the prairie country with only such obstacles as might be encountered in a day's ride.
The effort lay in the fact that the ride must be made before a group of critical and interested spectators and with other contestants.
Jeanette glanced toward her stepmother. How undisturbed she appeared, as if the race ahead of them was only the most ordinary amusement, of no greater or less importance than any game played with friends!
A moment Jeanette envied her coolness and then felt a sense of pity. This it must mean to grow old. One felt neither enthusiasm nor excitement. One should not envy such a state of mind or being.
When their race was announced Jeanette noticed her stepmother lean over and whisper to her father. He nodded and smiled, but never lost his grave, almost anxious air.
Jeanette only waved her hand to him in farewell.
He did not go down with them, where their horses were in waiting. John Marshall and Cecil Perry were their escorts.
The fourteen contestants stood laughing and talking together, Jeanette appearing like a little girl among them.
"You deserve to win, Jeanette, for your courage," Mrs. Markham, one of Jeanette's old friends, murmured. "I am afraid with your stepmother as a rival, none of us has a chance. I have never ridden with her, but have always been told she was the best horsewoman in Wyoming."
Jeanette happily had no chance to reply. A bell was ringing and a moment after they stood listening to the rules of their race.
The prize would be awarded the first rider who reached the goal on the opposite side of the field and returned across the same course. There was to be no avoiding of the ditches and fences. The riders were not to impede one another beyond the rules which they understood.
Jeanette was scarcely able to listen attentively, as she knew beforehand what was required.
At a signal the riders were off.
An instant Jeanette found herself beside her stepmother.
"You will be careful, Jeanette. Don't take unnecessary chances," she said half in words, half in the expression of her eyes.
Jeanette set her lips. She had no time to think and no chance even to nod her head.
Her pony was passing easily ahead of her stepmother and was nose to nose with the two riders leading the entire number.
The first ditch Jeanette took easily. Still she raced on ahead, with the wind singing in her ears, her heart beating quickly and happily.
She was doing as well as the best of the other riders. Her stepmother was not among them.
Five minutes after Jeanette found herself moving along with one other woman in the lead. The third rider's horse had refused to take the last fence and she was dropping out.
Jeanette and her companion arrived first at the goal on the opposite end of the field. The other woman was ahead, but in the turn, which was difficult and required skill and courage, Jeanette found herself in the lead.
Across the field she thought she could hear friends break into cheering.
Jeanette could only take a swift survey of the other riders.
They were not so numerous as at the start. Others had dropped out.
The following moment in a smooth stretch of riding Jeanette heard the light hoofs of another horse close to her own. Then the horse and rider passed her. Jeanette recognized her stepmother.
In the midst of her annoyance she could not fail to see that she was sitting her horse as easily and with as little appearance of fatigue or strain as she had shown a little time before when talking idly with her friends.
Jeanette knew that she herself was overexcited by her unexpected success. She also was growing tired. Her pony might be influenced by her emotions. She remembered now that her stepmother had advised her half a dozen times to save her strength till toward the end of the race.
She spurred her pony faster.
An instant of grudging admiration. Her stepmother had jumped one of the most difficult of the ditches with the same ease and grace with which she ordinarily rode up to the door in front of their home.
Her heart pounding and her blood beating faster in her ears, Jeanette followed her example. Her pony was showing fatigue, but gallant as she herself was.
Before they reached the final ditch two other riders were abreast with them.
Jeanette felt she would not care so intensely if only some one not in her own family would win.
She remembered Cecil Perry's farewell good wishes to her stepmother. He might at least have had the good manners to wish her well, even if they did not pretend to like each other.
Jeanette was not consciously thinking of this, only of her ride. Her thought was merely subconscious, her only really conscious thought was of success. At whatever cost to herself, or her pony, she must win.
The next jump would probably be the supreme test, as beyond lay a stretch of easy riding.
She could only see the graceful, gallant figure in the brown cloth riding suit so like her own. She had no sensation of dislike toward her stepmother at this instant, only the impression that the race was between them.
Once more Jeanette spurred her pony, passing the others again.
She was nearing the final ditch ahead of all the riders. Close behind her was the easy patter of the horse and rider with whom she was most familiar.
Jeanette recognized that her stepmother had followed the plan she had advised her to pursue. From the beginning she had saved her horse for the final effort. Neither horse nor rider was in the least overexcited or tired.
In almost a panic Jeanette headed her own pony for the last jump. An instant he wavered, then recognizing his own fatigue, he refused to make the attempt.
The Pony Refused to Make the Attempt.
The Pony Refused to Make the Attempt.
Desperately Jeanette turned her head for a glance behind her.
Her stepmother had risen in her saddle. In another moment she would clear the ditch.
There was no opportunity for clear thought. Everything that the past six weeks had developed in her nature must have gone toward the making of Jeanette's decision. If she could not win, at least she could prevent her stepmother's easy success.
Directly in the path of the other rider, Jeanette drew her pony. With any other rider less experienced than Jacqueline Colter the result would have been a tragedy for them both.
Quick as Jeanette's action, her stepmother's was equally swift. With her horse poised for a forward leap, Jack brought him instantly to a standstill. Then without a word, she turned and rode quietly away. She would make no effort to win. Obviously she had abandoned the idea of the final jump and was riding toward the end of the course.
A moment, not of regret but of fear, seized Jeanette. She had broken the rules of the contest. The judges and the spectators must have observed her action. Disgrace awaited her.
Yet she set her lips until her square chin showed an added firmness. She would go through to the end. Her stepmother might have spared her, might have made her action less apparent by attempting the jump a second time. Afterwards they could have insisted her action was an accident due to nervousness and to a lack of experience.
A second time Jeanette drove her horse forward toward the fence. This time he rose and skimmed gracefully across, as gallant and undisturbed as Jeanette Colter outwardly appeared.
Together they raced on toward the judges' stand. Behind her she could hear several of the other riders not far away.
Whether or not she had won the race honestly she intended to be first under the blue ribbon, tied across the field before the judges' box.
As her pony passed under the blue ribbon, there was a sound of applause from the spectators, then cheering from her neighbors and friends.
Jeanette slid to the ground.
One of the men from their own Rainbow Ranch took hold of the bridle of her horse.
A moment later and the other riders were standing beside her. Jeanette had a confused impression that they were congratulating her.
Senator Marshall and Peter Stevens, who were two of the judges, were coming toward her.
Some one thrust into her hands a big bouquet of roses tied with the club colors, blue and white.
At this moment Jeanette beheld her stepmother. She had ridden across the field more slowly than the others.
She got off her horse. Jeanette then saw her father step forward and speak to her.
In another instant the accusation would follow.
If the judges had not seen what she had done, if the audience was unaware of her lack of sportsmanship, her stepmother had only to speak.
But her stepmother was leaving the group of riders and going back to her place beside Lina and Eda and Via.
Her father was coming toward her.
The brilliant flush faded from Jeanette's cheeks. Rather any one else announce her fault than her father. Worse than any accident that could have occurred to see him ashamed.
Instead his arm went about her.
"Jeanette, if you only knew how glad I am the race is over and how proud I am of you!" he exclaimed, disregarding the people about them.
Jeanette put her free hand to her throat, the other held the bunch of roses. She must speak and confess her fault if no one had seen what she had done. Useless to pretend it was an accident! It had not been. Apparently her stepmother did not intend to make any accusation against her.
"I did not win fairly," Jeanette was about to falter when Senator Marshall reached her.
"Jeanette, I want to congratulate you. The youngest girl in the racing contest and the winner! We are proud of you."
Jeanette bit her lips and her color faded.
She could not confess.
All her life she had been taught the rules of the game. This had been her father's chief effort in bringing up his four motherless daughters. In whatever they undertook, a game of croquet, tennis, a guessing contest indoors, the importance of the game was not what counted. One must always and at all times play fair.
Until to-day Jeanette believed this as sacredly as her father.
Two months before would she have stood silent while Peter Stevens pinned upon the lapel of her riding coat the prize offered by the club to its best woman rider? The pin was of sapphires set in silver, the Indian emblem, the Swastika, the emblem of good luck, inherited from our primitive ancestors, which has gone round the world.