Linda Ford (10 page)

He shifted in the saddle, suddenly annoyed with all her questions. “Inez is there.”

“Inez?”

“Inez Garner—I guess you’d call her our housekeeper. But she’s more than that, more like part of the family. Inez has been at Hawk’s Creek since before I was born—I can’t imagine the place without her. After my ma died she was the glue that helped hold us all together.”

“She sounds like a special lady.”

“That she is.” Enough of answering her questions—time to ask a few of his own. “What about you? You said you don’t have any family—who raised you?”

Was it his imagination or did some of her cheeriness ebb? Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up her orphaned status.

“I reckon you could say just about everybody in Cleebit Springs had a hand in raising me,” she answered. “After they buried my father—I was seven at the time—the whole community banded together
to make certain I was provided for. Different families took turns looking out for me.”

Close-knit communities were like that, he supposed—doing what they could to help their neighbors when there was a need. So why was she so eager to give all that up? Seemed shortsighted at best, ungrateful at worst. “Sounds to me as if you had a very large foster family.”

“I suppose you could look at it that way.”

She didn’t seem much taken with the idea. “Folks don’t have to be blood kin to be family,” he offered. “Inez and I are proof of that.”

She gave a noncommittal nod, keeping her gaze straight ahead.

“Might be you’ll miss the folks in Cleebit Springs more than you think you will,” he said, trying again. “You’re going to find out soon enough that folks in large towns tend to mind their own business more often than not and aren’t always as neighborly as those in smaller towns.”

She shrugged. “Folks minding their own business isn’t such a bad thing.”

He supposed some lessons had to be learned from experience. And it seemed for her this was going to be one of them.

He only hoped she didn’t get hurt too badly when she learned it.

Ruby was glad Mr. Lassiter didn’t press further. There was no way she’d agree to call those folks back in Cleebit Springs her family, but she didn’t want to speak ill of them, either. Her daddy had taught her to
always look for the good in any person or situation, and she’d tried to honor his memory by doing just that. It had been so hard in those first few weeks after he was taken from her, when she’d been dealing with the shock of his sudden, horrific death, when she’d been surrounded by people she didn’t know, when the nightmares had come night after night.

But in time the shock, if not the memories, had faded, the people had become more familiar, the nightmares had come less frequently. And that was when her upbringing had kicked in. She’d stopped crying and forced herself to look for any silver lining she could find, in fact had made a game of it.

But even on the best of those days, she hadn’t thought of anyone in Cleebit Springs as family. There were lots of good folks there, she knew that. It’s just that her memories and relationships with them were all colored by her father’s death. Whether right or wrong, she was genuinely happy to know that from this day forward she’d never have to face any of them again. The farther away from Cleebit Springs they got, the lighter her spirits. It had been thirteen long, lonely years since she’d felt so buoyant.

After the silence had dragged on for a bit, Ruby decided it was time for something a bit more cheerful. “Tell me about Tyler.”

“I guess it’s a fine city, as cities go anyway. What do you want to know about it?”

“Everything.” She was determined to look on this as a grand adventure—no matter how discouraging
his tone. “Start with what I can expect to find when I get there.”

“Well, let’s see, there are sawmills, an ice factory, a cotton gin and some fruit-packing plants. There are several other factories, but I don’t guess you’re much interested in that sort of thing.”

“I want to know about
all
of it. I’m going to be looking for work when I get there, remember?”

“All right. Besides the mills and factories, there are stores and shops, some of them huge brick buildings with three floors of merchandise, where you can find just about anything from dry goods to flowers, from hardware to fine jewelry.”

He rolled his shoulders. “And there are churches of course, big ones and small ones of just about any denomination you can imagine. There’s a busy railway station there along with shipping and freight companies. Oh, and most of the businesses and many of the homes have electricity.”

“Mercy! Do the boardinghouses have electricity?”

“I’ve never visited one, but I imagine they do.”

She looked down at her cat. “Did you hear that, Patience? Won’t that be a fine thing?”

The cat’s only response was a lazy blink.

“I wouldn’t call it fine—much too noisy and crowded.”

She refused to let her mood be dampened—this was her chance to build a brand-new life, to prove to herself that she could stand on her own. Because she had no one else to depend on. “Crowds don’t bother me. What else is there?”

“There’s a lot more.” His tone indicated he wasn’t overly impressed with the list he was reciting. “A courthouse, several hotels, lots of eating places from small cafés to fancy restaurants.”

Another fit of coughing interrupted his litany. “If you’re interested in more refined offerings,” he continued, “there are schools and a library, a newspaper office, two opera houses, a theater and some uppity-sounding social clubs.”

Uppity, huh? Did he think that’s what she was looking for? But the library—now that
did
sound interesting. She loved to read, but her choices had been limited. Many of the families she’d stayed with had either not had any reading material or had not thought it an appropriate pastime for her. She had exactly three books to her name, safely packed in her trunk. All three had belonged to her father—a Bible, a book about plants and a copy of Mark Twain’s
The Prince and The Pauper.
All were dog-eared from the many times she’d read them.

“Sounds like a mighty fine place.” She looked over at him. “Do you visit there often?”

“Once or twice a month. Mostly for supplies or to meet the train.” He grimaced. “It’s much too crowded for my taste. And besides, there’s lots to keep me busy at Hawk’s Creek.”

Interesting how his voice and expression took on a whole different tone when he spoke of his ranch—deeper, more relaxed. She wondered if he was even aware of how telling that was.

“I don’t think I’ll mind the crowds so much,” she
replied. “It sounds like a marvelous place to start a new life.”

They rode along in silence for a few minutes, then she cleared her throat. “That’s a fine-looking horse you’ve got there. Does he have a name?”

“Chester.” He scowled. “Are you always this chatty?”

Oh, my—he sounded irritable. Probably as much to do with that cough of his as with her. She gave him an apologetic smile. “Actually, no. But since I’m starting out on a new adventure, I find myself full of questions. Sorry if I’m bothering you.”

“Sometimes a fella just likes to take a break from talking and hear his own thoughts for a while.”

“Of course.”

He dropped back to check on the bull and she looked down at Patience, who was now sitting on the floor of the buggy. “Well, at least I have you to talk to.”

The cat gave her a long-suffering look, then went back to grooming itself.

“You, too? Well, neither one of you gloomy glumps are going to dampen my mood. It’s a wonderful day, just chock-full of silver linings, and I aim to enjoy each and every one of them.”

G
riff called a halt around noon. He’d regretted his earlier sour comment within a few minutes of uttering it. After all, it was only natural for Miss Tuggle to be curious about what her future might hold.

The fact that she didn’t seem at all cowed by his set-down surprised him. She made occasional comments to her cat, hummed now and then as if she couldn’t contain her exuberance and just generally maintained a cheerful demeanor. There didn’t seem to be much that could dampen her spirits.

But it’d been a long morning and she
had
quieted considerably these past thirty minutes. Though she hadn’t complained, he figured Miss Tuggle was probably ready to get out of that buggy and move around a bit.

“I don’t know about you,” he said with a smile, “but I’m ready to have a look at what’s in that basket you packed.”

Her face lit up. “That sounds lovely.”

He had the fleeting impression that she was referring as much to the fact that he’d spoken first as to the opportunity to get out of the buggy. “The road widens up ahead by that big oak,” he continued. “Why don’t we pull the buggy up under the tree and stretch our legs for a little while?”

Within a few minutes he was handing her down. She was surprisingly light and agile. Strange that he hadn’t really noticed her eyes before—such a vivid shade of green, flecked with sparks of gold.

He took a moment to steady her once her feet were on the ground and, just for a moment, their gazes locked. Then her cat sprang down and landed at their feet, and the moment passed.

She quickly turned back to the buggy. “I’ll get the hamper. It’s right—”

He stopped her with a touch to her arm. “Let me get that.”

She stepped aside. “Of course.” Then she turned away. “I’d better keep an eye on Patience.”

“It’s been my experience that cats aren’t much good at coming when called.”

She laughed. “True. But I think she’ll stay close when she sees what’s in the hamper.”

As he stepped back with the hamper, he noticed she was hugging herself. It was definitely colder now than it had been earlier. They probably should make this stop a quick one. The sooner they reached their destination, the better.

She stepped forward and reached inside the buggy. “I also packed a blanket we can sit on while we eat.”

“Good thinking.” He took her arm to help her over the uneven ground. “It’s not exactly picnic weather, but we won’t be here long anyway.”

He set the hamper beside the tree. “If you can get things set up here, I’m going to give the animals some feed.”

“Of course.”

By the time he’d given the bull and the two horses each a bit of oats, she had the blanket spread out and had pulled some tin cups and plates out of the hamper. The cat sat beside her, tail swishing slowly, eyeing the hamper as if it were a mouse hole.

Miss Tuggle looked up as he joined her. “I’m afraid the food’s not anything fancy, but it should be filling enough.”

“No need to apologize. It was good of you to bring anything at all.” Besides, he wasn’t very hungry. “So, what do we have?”

She started itemizing things as she pulled them out of the hamper. “Some boiled ham slices, a wedge of cheese, two boiled eggs, a couple of biscuits and four nice ripe persimmons.”

The cat swiped a paw in the direction of the ham, but Miss Tuggle was faster. She scooped up the cat, holding the affronted feline away from the food. “Oh, no you don’t. Wait your turn.”

She turned back to Griff, her hand stroking the cat’s head. “There’s a jug of apple cider in the hamper to wash it down with.”

It seemed she’d gone to a lot of trouble. He hoped his lack of appetite didn’t hurt her feelings.

She handed him a plate and smiled uncertainly. “Before we start, would you like to say grace?”

Griff paused in the act of reaching for a biscuit. He was embarrassed that he’d gotten out of the habit of praying before meals since Sadie had moved away. Perhaps it was time he remedied that.

He bowed his head. “Thank You, Father, for this food set before us, and for the many other blessings You provide to us each day. Watch over us as we travel. And watch over Miss Tuggle as she begins her new life in Tyler. May she find whatever it is she’s looking for.”

His companion added an “Amen,” then smiled up at him.

Griff pointed to the squirming cat in her arms. “Is that varmint going to let you eat?”

She laughed. “As long as she gets her share. Don’t worry, I packed enough.” She quickly broke off several slivers of ham and some crumbles of cheese and set them on the corner of the blanket. The cat sashayed over and began eating the morsels as if getting served first were her right.

Griff shook his head. Despite the cat’s disreputable appearance, it seemed it was a pampered pet after all.

He turned back to his own plate and cautiously looked over the food. His stomach rebelled at the idea of the ham or the cheese, but he knew he ought to eat something before they got back on the road. He carefully selected one of the biscuits and an egg.

Miss Tuggle frowned when she saw his skimpily loaded plate. “Oh, dear, don’t you like ham and
cheese? I should have asked ahead of time. Or is it Patience? If cats bother you I can—”

He held up a hand. She might be an overly cheery girl, but she was also quick to accept blame unnecessarily, as well. “I do like ham and cheese. And your cat isn’t bothering me. I’m just not very hungry, is all.”

“Oh.” She was quiet for a while but he could see her worry as she studied him. When he coughed again, she frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe the folks at one of those farmhouses we passed a ways back would—”

“It’s just a cough. I’m fine.”

She slipped the cat another sliver of ham. “I lived with Doc Mulligan’s family a couple of years ago. He always said a deep cough like yours should be treated right away or it could lead to something really serious.”

“That might be true for some folk. But sometimes a cough is just a cough. I haven’t been sick enough to slow me down since I lost my first tooth.” He lifted the jug out of the hamper. “Hand me those cups and I’ll pour us some of this cider.” Hopefully she’d get the message that the subject of his health was closed.

She did as he asked and waited until he finished pouring to speak again. “So, did you travel all the way to Cleebit Springs just to fetch that bull?”

At least she’d decided to drop the subject of his health. “Actually, I hadn’t planned on getting a new bull at all. I had some business to take care of with Barney Lipscom over at the Double Bar L Ranch.”
He forced himself to eat another bite of biscuit, then washed it down with a swig of cider. “Barney’s been experimenting with Angus bloodlines and was excited about the results he’s gotten. He insisted I take one of his young bulls to see for myself.”

“That was generous of him. You must be good friends.”

“He and my pa were.” Griff noticed she’d finished up her meal. “If you’re done, we should get back on the road. Sorry we can’t make this a longer stop, but I don’t like the looks of the weather. The sooner we get to where we’re going, the better.”

“Of course.” She scrambled to her knees, then looked around with a frown. “Now where did Patience get off to?”

Griff stood, eyes scanning the tree line. “She can’t have gone far—she was just here.”

Miss Tuggle stood as well, biting her lower lip. “I should’ve watched her closer.”

Now
what did he do? He’d told her he wouldn’t go chasing after her cat, but what if the four-legged troublemaker didn’t return in the next few minutes? Could he get Miss Tuggle to go on without her pet? “I don’t suppose the critter is trained to come when you call.”

She shook her head, then pushed a lock of hair behind her ear with fingers that trembled. “Oh, if something’s happened to her—”

Good grief, she wasn’t going to cry, was she? “No need to get all worked up just yet,” he said quickly.
“Why don’t you pack up things here and I’ll take a quick look around.”

“Thank you.” She offered him a grateful smile, but the worry never left her expression.

Swallowing a few choice words, he stepped away from the blanket and let his eyes scan the tree line once again. He didn’t hold out much hope of finding the feline, though, not unless it wanted to be found. A moment later he got his first clue as to the animal’s whereabouts when he heard the excited barking of a dog. It sounded close. Maybe the threat of a dog on its trail would send the cat scampering back in this direction.

“Do you hear that?” Miss Tuggle was at his elbow, the folded blanket in her arms.

“Yes. Don’t worry. I’m sure your cat can outrun most dogs. Probably streak out of those woods any minute now.”

“She
is
fast.”

A moment later Griff frowned. The tenor of the barking had changed. The dog no longer seemed to be moving and it sounded more like baying, as if it had treed its quarry.

Great. Just great.

Griff headed off in the direction of the barking.

Ruby’s chin came up. He hadn’t really invited her to follow him, but there was no way she was going to stay behind—Patience was, after all,
her
cat. She did her best to keep up with him, but it wasn’t easy. His long legs ate up the ground with amazing speed.

Fortunately they didn’t have far to go. Just inside the tree line they encountered the dog who was making all that racket. The black-and-brown hound had its front legs braced up against a tree trunk, nose pointed heavenward and howling up a storm.

Oh, dear, was poor Patience up there somewhere?

As soon as the dog spotted them it stopped barking and dropped back down on all fours. Griff put a hand up and Ruby obediently stopped.

He moved forward, slowly, speaking to the animal in a tone too soft for her to make out the words. After a moment the dog’s tail began to wag and Mr. Lassiter was able to stoop down and ruffle the animal’s fur.

While her companion was busy winning over the dog, Ruby anxiously scanned the almost bare branches of the tree. She finally caught sight of a furry face peering down at her from what must be a good ten feet above her head. “Look, there she is.”

Mr. Lassiter glanced at her, then upward. “It figures,” he said drily. “Wouldn’t do for her to stop on a lower branch, would it?”

He stood and stared down at the dog, pointing away from the tree. “Get along now.”

Ruby grinned as the animal cocked its head to one side, as if trying to figure out if this was some sort of game.

“Get!” He said it more firmly and louder this time, stomping his foot for emphasis.

The dog spun and loped away a few paces before turning back to stare at him.

Mr. Lassiter let out an exasperated breath. “Mutt, I really don’t have the time or patience for this.”

As if the animal finally understood, it turned and ran back into the woods.

Mr. Lassiter turned to her. “I hope that animal of yours will come when called after all.”

She hoped so, too. Moving forward until she was directly under the branch Patience clung to, Ruby set the picnic blanket down and made a downward motion with her hand. “Patience, come on down, sweetie. That big bad dog is gone now, so it’s safe.”

She kept her gaze on the cat, ignoring Mr. Lassiter’s snort at her description of the dog as big and bad. But Patience still didn’t budge. “I won’t let anything hurt you, I promise. Just come on down so we can get on the road again.”

What was she going to do if the cat refused to come down right away? She would never abandon her pet, but would Mr. Lassiter go off and leave them? She tried calling Patience again, letting some of her desperation creep into her tone.

Finally Mr. Lassiter stepped forward. “Enough.”

Ruby turned to him, trying to gain a little more time. “Please. She can’t stay up there forever. I can go back to the hamper and get a bit of ham. Maybe I can tempt her—”

“I doubt that’ll work. And we’ve already wasted too much time.”

“But I can’t just leave her here. She needs me.”
And I need her, because without her I’d be totally alone.

“Nobody said anything about leaving her.” He
tossed his hat on top of the picnic blanket, then, despite the chilly temperature, shrugged out of his jacket. “Here, hold this.”

She took the jacket and hugged it against her chest, its warmth strangely comforting. “What are you going to do?” A dozen scenarios played out in her head—everything from him throwing rocks at her poor pet to him climbing up after it.

He momentarily paused in the act of rolling up his sleeves and raised a brow. “What do you
think
I’m going to do?”

She decided to believe the best of him and his intentions. “Go up after her?”

Instead of responding he finished rolling up his sleeves, took his jacket back from her and moved to the tree.

“But—” She missed the feel of his jacket in her arms. “You said you weren’t going to chase after her.”

“And I’m not.” He gave her a considering look as he tied the jacket’s sleeves in a chunky knot around his waist. “Are you trying to talk me out of this?”

“No. I just…” He really
was
going to climb up after Patience. The man was a real-life hero. “Please be careful.”

He nodded. “Just be prepared for what comes next. I don’t aim to climb back down with that critter spitting and clawing in my arms.”

Now what did he mean by that? Ruby watched as he grabbed a lower limb and tested its weight. “I must be out of my mind,” he muttered. “I haven’t climbed a tree since I was a scrawny kid.”

She had trouble picturing him as a scrawny anything. Especially right now, what with the way his muscles bunched beneath his shirt as he grabbed hold of one of the lower branches.

Within seconds he was hauling himself up into the network of skeletal limbs. A heartbeat later he was standing on a lower branch and looking for footing on the next tier up. For a big man, he was surprisingly agile. She couldn’t help but admire the relative ease with which he maneuvered his way up the tree.

When he paused to control another bout of coughs, however, she had to bite her lip to keep from warning him once again to be careful.