How beautiful she was! Breathless and happy and asking him to come fetch her, Marie looked like the idea of girlish beauty incarnate. Her words didn't sound like a threat to Jack. They sounded like a temptation.
"I'd take you home this minute if I could."
Of all the rich lambs he could have swindled, of course he'd had to go and pick this one. The teasing, smart-mouthed one, who'd wiggle her tail at him and say, Gee, shepherd, better not leave me alone too long!
Sometimes Jack thought he wasn't half as smart as he needed to be. Love was for suckers and Bowery songs; he knew that. He'd gone to New York not to comfort his grieving heart, but to find a docile, obedient girl with money. Yet he'd come back with her.
Which was fine as a start; Marie certainly met his qualifications for a bride. But now he was looking at her and thinking about how shepherds had to stand watch all night over their sheep. All this lion flattery was well and good, but nobody ever lost sleep guarding a lioness. No, it was the lambs who'd keep a man up through the darkest hours, shivering on a hillside, because they were too precious to risk. And as he gazed at his little Lamb Chop now, there was no mistaking the look of protective tenderness in his eyes.
He wondered what Jeannie--a lioness, if ever there was one--would think if she could see this. Her useless failure of a husband, fawning over an innocent half his age! The thought shamed him, and the walls seemed to snap back into place behind his eyes. His showman's smile, however, held steady.
"Enjoy yourself. And wish me luck."
Another wink, but it felt forced. Then he was turning away from her, with a smile that told the crowd everything was just peachy keen. Another song started up, and Jack left his wife behind, forcing himself to keep his back to her so that the sight of her couldn't pull him back to her side.
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"I'd take you home this minute if I could."
Of all the rich lambs he could have swindled, of course he'd had to go and pick this one. The teasing, smart-mouthed one, who'd wiggle her tail at him and say, Gee, shepherd, better not leave me alone too long!
Sometimes Jack thought he wasn't half as smart as he needed to be. Love was for suckers and Bowery songs; he knew that. He'd gone to New York not to comfort his grieving heart, but to find a docile, obedient girl with money. Yet he'd come back with her.
Which was fine as a start; Marie certainly met his qualifications for a bride. But now he was looking at her and thinking about how shepherds had to stand watch all night over their sheep. All this lion flattery was well and good, but nobody ever lost sleep guarding a lioness. No, it was the lambs who'd keep a man up through the darkest hours, shivering on a hillside, because they were too precious to risk. And as he gazed at his little Lamb Chop now, there was no mistaking the look of protective tenderness in his eyes.
He wondered what Jeannie--a lioness, if ever there was one--would think if she could see this. Her useless failure of a husband, fawning over an innocent half his age! The thought shamed him, and the walls seemed to snap back into place behind his eyes. His showman's smile, however, held steady.
"Enjoy yourself. And wish me luck."
Another wink, but it felt forced. Then he was turning away from her, with a smile that told the crowd everything was just peachy keen. Another song started up, and Jack left his wife behind, forcing himself to keep his back to her so that the sight of her couldn't pull him back to her side.
He had work to do.