Hearts Desire | Page 3

ain't it?" said Curly, grinning; and I grinned
in reply with what fortitude I could muster. Down in Heart's Desire
there was a little, a very little cabin, with a bunk, a few blankets, a
small table, and a box nailed against the wall for a cupboard. I knew
what was in the box, and what was not in it, and I so advised my friend
as we slipped down off the bald summit of the Capitans and came into
the shelter of the short, black pinons. Curly rode on for a little while
before he made answer.
"Why," said he, at length, "ain't you heard? You're in with our rodeo on
Christmas dinner. McKinney, and Tom Osby, and Dan Anderson, the
other lawyer, and me,--we're going to have Christmas dinner at
Andersen's 'dobe in town to-morrer. You're in. You mayn't like it. Don't
you mind. The directions says to take it, and you take it. It's goin' to be
one of the largest events ever knowed in this here settlement. Of course,
there's goin' to be some canned things, and some sardines, and some
everidge liquids. You guess what besides that."

I told him I couldn't guess.
"Shore you couldn't," said Curly, dangling his bridle from the little
finger of his left hand as he searched in his pocket for a match. He had
rolled a cigarette with one hand, and now he called it a cigarrillo.
These facts alone would have convicted him of coming from
somewhere near the Rio Grande.
"Shore you couldn't," repeated Curly, after he had his bit of brown
paper going. "I reckon not in a hundred years. Champagne! Whole
quart! Yes, sir. Cost eighteen dollars. Mac, he got it. Billy Hudgens had
just this one bottle in the shop, left over from the time the surveyors
come over here and we thought there was goin' to be a railroad, which
there wasn't. But Lord! that ain't all. It ain't the beginnin'. You guess
again. No, I reckon you couldn't," said he, scornfully. "You couldn't in
your whole life guess what next. We got a cake!"
"Go on, Curly," said I, scoffingly; for I knew that the possibilities of
Heart's Desire did not in the least include anything resembling cake.
Any of the boys could fry bacon or build a section of bread in a Dutch
oven--they had to know how to do that or starve. But as to cake, there
was none could compass it. And I knew there was not a woman in all
Heart's Desire.
Curly enjoyed his advantage for a few moments as we wound on down
the trail among the pinons. "Heap o' things happened since you went
down to tend co'te," said he. "You likely didn't hear of the new family
moved in last week. Come from Kansas."
"Then there's a girl," said I; for I was far Westerner enough to know
that all the girls ever seen west of the Pecos came from Kansas, the
same as all the baled hay and all the fresh butter. Potatoes came from
Iowa; but butter, hay, and girls came from Kansas. I asked Curly if the
head of the new family came from Leavenworth.
"'Course he did," said Curly. "And I'll bet a steer he'll be postmaster or
somethin' in a few brief moments." This in reference to another
well-known fact in natural history as observed west of the Pecos; for it

was matter of common knowledge among all Western men that the
town of Leavenworth furnished early office-holders for every new
community from the Missouri to the Pacific.
Curly continued; "This feller'll do well here, I reckon, though just now
he's broke a-plenty. But what was he goin' to do? His team breaks down
and he can't get no further. Looks like he'd just have to stop and be
postmaster or somethin' for us here for a while. Can't be Justice of the
Peace; another Kansas man's got that. As to them two girls--man! The
camp's got on its best clothes right this instant, don't you neglect to
think. Both good lookers. Youngest's a peach. I'm goin' to marry her."
Curly turned aggressively in his saddle and looked me squarely in the
eye, his hat pushed back from his tightly curling red hair.
"That's all right, Curly," said I, mildly. "You have my consent. Have
you asked the girl about it yet?"
"Ain't had time yet," said he. "But you watch me."
"What's the name of the family?" I asked as we rode along together.
"Blamed if I remember exactly," replied Curly, scratching his head,
"but they're shore good folks. Old man's sort o' pious, I reckon.
Anyhow, that's what Tom Osby says. He driv along from Hocradle
cañon with 'em on the road from Vegas. Said the old man helt