This Loving Land - Dorothy Garlock [27]
Angry with herself for being so cross with Mary, she went to her and gathered her up in her arms.
“Mama’s sorry, sweet baby,” she crooned. “Mama’s sorry she was cross. I tell you what we’ll do. We’ll go down to the swing. Would you like that?”
The little face broke into smiles. “Swing, swing!”
It was twilight when they walked hand in hand out the back door. Down by the creek, Sadie could see the fire from the temporary camp set up by Mrs. McLean’s drovers. Several riders from the other ranch splashed across the creek to join them, and from the shouted greetings it was obvious the groups were friendly. Sadie and Mary turned toward the swing.
Mary ran ahead, grabbed the straw-filled sack suspended by the rope and wrapped her small legs about it. Sadie gave her a gentle push and she laughed merrily. The sound of her child’s laughter was so dear to her that Sadie forgot everything except this small pleasure she was sharing with her daughter.
“High, high, Mama!”
“Hold tight” Sadie cautioned. “Hold tight, and we’ll go higher.”
After a while, Mary became weary of holding on, and her small feet dragged the ground until the swing stopped. She was content for a time just to push the swing, then turned her small face up to her mother.
“Mama swing!”
“All right.” Her laughter equalling that of her daughter’s, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around the sack. “Give me a push, Mary.”
The small hands on her back barely moved her.
“Come on, Mary. Give me a push.”
Large, hard hands touched her back, and she was given a hefty shove. She was so frightened that her hands froze onto the rope and she flung herself around to see Mary standing beside the tall foreman, clapping her hands and squealing with glee. The man’s hat was pulled low over his eyes, and she could see only his mouth. It was slightly tilted.
“Mary,” she gasped, and darted to take the child’s hand. Mary jerked away from her and ran to the swing.
“Me swing!”
Sadie’s heart was galloping wildly in her breast. She went to snatch Mary from the swing, but the man was there ahead of her and gave the child a gentle push.
“We was just goin’.”
“No, you wasn’t.”
She wasn’t sure she heard correctly and looked wildly about like a frightened child.
“I’m not the one you have to look out for. You know that.” He spoke softly, gently, and kept a steady hand on the child’s back as he swung her back and forth.
“Yes,” she whispered, but the sound reached him.
“How come you was workin’ in the dance hall?” Sadie was taken aback by his words and didn’t know how to answer, so she remained silent. “Where’s your man?” His direct questions sparked resentment.
“He got hisself killed, and I was working in the dance hall ’cause I couldn’t get no other work.” She watched him, frowning, but her resentment died fast when his eyes met hers. To soften her blunt words, she added, “Thank you for what you done that night. I didn’t have no idea he’d do what he did. He’d been so nice.”
“He can be when he wants to. Don’t let him catch you by yourself.”
There was silence while they both watched Mary on the swing. Again, Sadie was taken aback by his words, and she searched frantically for something to say.
“How long you been working for Mrs. McLean?”
“Twelve ’years.”
She wished he would say something more, but he stood silently, watching her, swinging Mary.
“Do you come over this way often?” She wished she hadn’t asked the question.
“I will now.”
Sadie was so nervous and strung up she could hardly think. What did he mean? For a second, she felt the prick of a thrill, but it faded quickly in the face