The Gillespies rode at the end of the train. Even if
he could not see them David felt their nearness, and it added to the
contentment that always came upon him from a fair prospect lying under
a smiling sky. At harmony with the moment and the larger life outside
it, he leaned back against the canvas hood and let a dreamy gaze roam
over the serene and opulent landscape.
Nature had always soothed and uplifted him, been like an opiate to
anger or pain. As a boy his troubles had lost their sting in the
consoling largeness of the open, under the shade of trees, within sight
of the bowing wheat fields with the wind making patterns on the seeded
grain. Now his thoughts, drifting aimless as thistle fluff, went back
to those childish days of country freedom, when he had spent his
vacations at his uncle's farm. He used to go with his widowed mother,
a forlorn, soured woman who rarely smiled. He remembered his irritated
wonder as she sat complaining in the ox cart, while he sent his eager
glance ahead over the sprouting acres to where the log farmhouse--the
haven of fulfilled dreams--stretched in its squat ugliness.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53