The Call Of The Canyon by Zane Grey (most inspirational books .txt) 📕

Restrained.

They Ushered Carley Into A Big Living Room And Up To A Fire Of Blazing

Logs,  Where They Helped Divest Her Of The Wet Wraps. And All The Time They

Talked In The Solicitous Way Natural To Women Who Were Kind And Unused To

Many Visitors. Then Mrs. Hutter Bustled Off To Make A Cup Of Hot Coffee

While Flo Talked.

"We'll Shore Give You The Nicest Room--With A Sleeping Porch Right Under The

Cliff Where The Water Falls. It'll Sing You To Sleep. Of Course You Needn't

Use The Bed Outdoors Until It's Warmer. Spring Is Late Here,  You Know,  And

We'll Have Nasty Weather Yet. You Really Happened On Oak Creek At Its Least

Attractive Season. But Then It's Always--Well,  Just Oak Creek. You'll Come

To Know."

"I Dare Say I'll Remember My First Sight Of It And The Ride Down That Cliff

Road," Said Carley,  With A Wan Smile.

"Oh,  That's Nothing To What You'll See And Do," Returned Flo,  Knowingly.

"We've Had Eastern Tenderfeet Here Before. And Never Was There A One Of

Them Who Didn't Come To Love Arizona."

"Tenderfoot! It Hadn't Occurred To Me. But Of Course--" Murmured Carley.

Then Mrs. Hutter Returned,  Carrying A Tray,  Which She Set Upon A Chair,  And

Drew To Carley's Side. "Eat An' Drink," She Said,  As If These Actions Were

The Cardinally Important Ones Of Life. "Flo,  You Carry Her Bags Up To That

West Room We Always Give To Some Particular Person We Want To Love Lolomi."

Next She Threw Sticks Of Wood Upon The Fire,  Making It Crackle And Blaze,

Then Seated Herself Near Carley And Beamed Upon Her.

"You'll Not Mind If We Call You Carley?" She Asked,  Eagerly.

"Oh,  Indeed No! I--I'd Like It," Returned Carley,  Made To Feel Friendly And

At Home In Spite Of Herself.

"You See It's Not As If You Were Just A Stranger," Went On Mrs. Hutter.

"Tom--That's Flo's Father--Took A Likin' To Glenn Kilbourne When He First

Came To Oak Creek Over A Year Ago. I Wonder If You All Know How Sick That

Soldier Boy Was. . . . Well,  He Lay On His Back For Two Solid Weeks--In The

Room We're Givin' You. An' I For One Didn't Think He'd Ever Get Up. But He

Did. An' He Got Better. An' After A While He Went To Work For Tom. Then Six

Months An' More Ago He Invested In The Sheep Business With Tom. He Lived

With Us Until He Built His Cabin Up West Fork. He An' Flo Have Run Together

A Good Deal,  An' Naturally He Told Her About You. So You See You're Not A

Stranger. An' We Want You To Feel You're With Friends."

"I Thank You,  Mrs. Hutter," Replied Carley,  Feelingly. "I Never Could Thank

You Enough For Being Good To Glenn. I Did Not Know He Was So--So Sick. At

First He Wrote But Seldom."

"Reckon He Never Wrote You Or Told You What He Did In The War," Declared

Mrs. Hutter.

"Indeed He Never Did!"

"Well,  I'll Tell You Some Day. For Tom Found Out All About Him. Got Some Of

It From A Soldier Who Came To Flagstaff For Lung Trouble. He'd Been In The

Same Company With Glenn. We Didn't Know This Boy's Name While He Was In

Flagstaff. But Later Tom Found Out. John Henderson. He Was Only Twenty-Two,

A Fine Lad. An' He Died In Phoenix. We Tried To Get Him Out Here. But The

Boy Wouldn't Live On Charity. He Was Always Expectin' Money--A War Bonus,

Whatever That Was. It Didn't Come. He Was A Clerk At The El Tovar For A

While. Then He Came To Flagstaff. But It Was Too Cold An' He Stayed There

Too Long."

"Too Bad," Rejoined Carley,  Thoughtfully. This Information As To The

Suffering Of American Soldiers Had Augmented During The Last Few Months,

And Seemed To Possess Strange,  Poignant Power To Depress Carley. Always She

Had Turned Away From The Unpleasant. And The Misery Of Unfortunates Was As

Disturbing Almost As Direct Contact With Disease And Squalor. But It Had

Begun To Dawn Upon Carley That There Might Occur Circumstances Of Life,  In

Every Way Affronting Her Comfort And Happiness,  Which It Would Be Impossible

To Turn Her Back Upon.

At This Juncture Flo Returned To The Room,  And Again Carley Was Struck With

The Girl's Singular Freedom Of Movement And The Sense Of Sure Poise And Joy

That Seemed To Emanate From Her Presence.

"I've Made A Fire In Your Little Stove," She Said. "There's Water Heating.

Now Won't You Come Up And Change Those Traveling Clothes. You'll Want To

Fix Up For Glenn,  Won't You?"

Carley Had To Smile At That. This Girl Indeed Was Frank And Unsophisticated,

And Somehow Refreshing. Carley Rose.

"You Are Both Very Good To Receive Me As A Friend," She Said. "I Hope I

Shall Not Disappoint You. . . . Yes,  I Do Want To Improve My Appearance

Before Glenn Sees Me. . . . Is There Any Way I Can Send Word To Him--By

Someone Who Has Not Seen Me?"

"There Shore Is. I'll Send Charley,  One Of Our Hired Boys."

"Thank You. Then Tell Him To Say There Is A Lady Here From New York To See

Him,  And It Is Very Important."

Flo Hutter Clapped Her Hands And Laughed With Glee. Her Gladness Gave

Carley A Little Twinge Of Conscience. Jealously Was An Unjust And Stifling

Thing.

Carley Was Conducted Up A Broad Stairway And Along A Boarded Hallway To A

Room That Opened Out On The Porch. A Steady Low Murmur Of Falling Water

Assailed Her Ears. Through The Open Door She Saw Across The Porch To A

White Tumbling Lacy Veil Of Water Falling,  Leaping,  Changing,  So Close That

It Seemed To Touch The Heavy Pole Railing Of The Porch.

This Room Resembled A Tent. The Sides Were Of Canvas. It Had No Ceiling.

But The Roughhewn Shingles Of The Roof Of The House Sloped Down Closely.

The Furniture Was Home Made. An Indian Rug Covered The Floor. The Bed With

Its Woolly Clean Blankets And The White Pillows Looked Inviting.

"Is This Where Glenn Lay--When He Was Sick?" Queried Carley.

"Yes," Replied Flo,  Gravely,  And A Shadow Darkened Her Eyes. "I Ought To

Tell You All About It. I Will Some Day. But You Must Not Be Made Unhappy

Now. . . . Glenn Nearly Died Here. Mother Or I Never Left His Side--For A

While There--When Life Was So Bad."

She Showed Carley How To Open The Little Stove And Put The Short Billets Of

Wood Inside And Work The Damper; And Cautioning Her To Keep An Eye On It So

That It Would Not Get Too Hot,  She Left Carley To Herself.

Carley Found Herself In An Unfamiliar Mood. There Came A Leap Of Her Heart

Every Time She Thought Of The Meeting With Glenn,  So Soon Now To Be,  But It

Was Not That Which Was Unfamiliar. She Seemed To Have A Difficult Approach

To Undefined And Unusual Thoughts. All This Was So Different From Her Regular

Life. Besides She Was Tired. But These Explanations Did Not Suffice. There

Was A Pang In Her Breast Which Must Owe Its Origin To The Fact That Glenn

Kilbourne Had Been Ill In This Little Room And Some Other Girl Than Carley

Burch Had Nursed Him. "Am I Jealous?" She Whispered. "No!" But She Knew In

Her Heart That She Lied. A Woman Could No More Help Being Jealous,  Under

Such Circumstances,  Than She Could Help The Beat And Throb Of Her Blood.

Nevertheless,  Carley Was Glad Flo Hutter Had Been There,  And Always She

Would Be Grateful To Her For That Kindness.

Carley Disrobed And,  Donning Her Dressing Gown,  She Unpacked Her Bags And

Hung Her Things Upon Pegs Under The Curtained Shelves. Then She Lay Down To

Rest,  With No Intention Of Slumber. But There Was A Strange Magic In The

Fragrance Of The Room,  Like The Piny Tang Outdoors,  And In The Feel Of The

Bed,  And Especially In The Low,  Dreamy Hum And Murmur Of The Waterfall. She

Fell Asleep. When She Awakened It Was Five O'clock. The Fire In The Stove

Was Out,  But The Water Was Still Warm. She Bathed And Dressed,  Not Without

Care,  Yet As Swiftly As Was Her Habit At Home; And She Wore White Because

Glenn Had Always Liked Her Best In White. But It Was Assuredly Not A Gown

To Wear In A Country House Where Draughts Of Cold Air Filled The Unheated

Rooms And Halls. So She Threw Round Her A Warm Sweater-Shawl,  With Colorful

Bars Becoming To Her Dark Eyes And Hair.

All The Time That She Dressed And Thought,  Her Very Being Seemed To Be

Permeated By That Soft Murmuring Sound Of Falling Water. No Moment Of

Waking Life There At Lolomi Lodge,  Or Perhaps Of Slumber Hours,  Could Be

Wholly Free Of That Sound. It Vaguely Tormented Carley,  Yet Was Not

Uncomfortable. She Went Out Upon The Porch. The Small Alcove Space Held A

Bed And A Rustic Chair. Above Her The Peeled Poles Of The Roof Descended To

Within A Few Feet Of Her Head. She Had To Lean Over The Rail Of The Porch

To Look Up. The Green And Red Rock Wall Sheered Ponderously Near. The

Waterfall Showed First At The Notch Of A Fissure,  Where The Cliff Split;

And Down Over Smooth Places The Water Gleamed,  To Narrow In A Crack With

Little Drops,  And Suddenly To Leap Into A Thin White Sheet.

Out From The Porch The View Was Restricted To Glimpses Between The Pines,

And