Linda Ford (11 page)

Please God, don’t let him fall. I’d never forgive myself if he got hurt because of me and Patience.

But the cough quieted and he continued as if nothing had happened. When he finally reached a branch that put him level with Patience, Mr. Lassiter leaned with his back against the trunk and carefully untied his jacket from about his waist.

She wished she could see what was going on better. “Is Patience okay?”

“She seems fine.” His tone held very little sympathy for the object of his rescue.

“Try talking softly to her,” Ruby urged. “She’s probably scared to death, poor thing.” If he’d only handle Patience the same soothing way he had the dog earlier—

Before she could finish that thought, he’d thrown his coat over the cat, scooped her up and had her bundled as cleanly as if he’d tossed her in a sack.

Not that Patience was taking it without a fight. The poor thing was screeching loud enough to be heard for miles and she was writhing so wildly that Ruby wondered how Mr. Lassiter was managing to keep his balance.

“Be careful.” She hadn’t been able to contain the warning this time. “How are you going to climb back down carrying Patience?”

“I’m not.”

What did he mean? Had he gone to all this trouble just to leave—

“Move a little to your left and get ready to catch.”

“Catch? Surely you’re not going to
drop
her.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Don’t worry, she won’t break. Just make sure you hold on to the critter and don’t let her run off again.”

“But I—”

“Ready or not.”

And with that, the bundle of squirming, screeching feline came falling from above. Ruby managed to catch it, but the impact knocked her down on her backside. She maintained a tight hold on the bundle but quickly unwrapped it enough to free Patience’s head.

“There now, that’s better, isn’t it?” she cooed. “You just go ahead and spit and howl all you want—you’ve had a rough time of it and deserve to be upset. Yes, yes, go ahead, protest as loud and indignantly as you like.” She continued crooning to her pet, not trying to hush her, merely reassure her.

When she finally looked up, Mr. Lassiter stood a few feet away, staring at her curiously.

When their eyes met he stepped forward and held out a hand to help her up. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She gave Patience a quick hug before accepting his hand. “We both are.” Once she was on her feet, they stood face-to-face for a moment, still holding hands. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said softly. “That’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Something flashed in his expression—surprise, sympathy, something else? She couldn’t be sure, but she felt the lightest of squeezes to her hand before he dropped it.

“You’re welcome, Miss Tuggle. Now—”

“Please, call me Ruby.” Her face warmed at her brashness, but she pressed on. “I mean, you’ve been so kind and I feel that we’ve become friends, and Miss Tuggle just sounds so formal.”

“All right,
Ruby.
And you can call me Griff.”

Griff. She liked that. It had a strong, honest quality to it. Heroic. Just like the man.

“Now, as I started to say, we’ve tarried long enough. We better get going.”

“Of course.” Her hand still felt the comforting warmth of his touch.

Mr. Lassi—
Griff
turned to retrieve his hat and he grabbed up the blanket, as well.

“I’ll get the hamper,” he said, slapping his hat on his head. “You just make sure that animal of yours gets in the buggy.”

She smiled and turned back toward the carriage. He might pretend to be gruff and dour, but he wasn’t fooling her. The man had the heart of a hero.

G
riff rubbed his chin as he watched Ruby move toward the buggy, cat in hand. She was still crooning to the critter, as if it were a hurt child in need of comfort.

The woman was overly sentimental about her pet, not to mention starry-eyed and seriously infected with wanderlust. None of those qualities were ones that would endear her to him—he preferred someone with a more realistic, practical outlook. But he couldn’t shake the memory of the look in her eyes just now when she’d thanked him and declared his rescue of her pet the kindest thing anyone had ever done for her. Something about her look and tone at that moment had tugged at him, had made his irritation seem suddenly petty.

She stopped by the hamper and he watched her stoop to reach inside. Pulling out some ham, she fed a sliver to her cat. “This ought to make you feel better,”
she said in that same lilting tone suitable for a nursery. “Once we get in the buggy I’ll give you the rest.”

He rolled his eyes, putting down his earlier feeling to a side effect of that irritating cough that had him all out of sorts. His first impression had been the right one—the girl was just plain unprepared for the world she was so desperate to enter.

He grabbed the hamper and followed her to the buggy. By the time he caught up with them, the cat was crouched beneath the buggy seat, chewing on another bit of ham as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

Ruby turned to him with a smile. “I think Patience will be fine now. Oh, here’s your jacket.”

Griff set the hamper in the buggy then took his coat from her. He shook it out and examined it, frowning at the half-dozen rips in the lining.

Ruby followed his gaze and gave a little cry. “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry—Patience was quite naughty. Naturally I’ll pay to have it replaced.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’m sure Inez can patch it up for me.” The sooner this journey was done the happier he’d be. He jammed his arms in the sleeves then offered her his hand. “Now, up you go. The sky’s looking more overcast by the minute and we need to make tracks.”

“Of course.”

He made quick work of handing her up, taking care not to let his hands linger.

She gathered up the reins, her expression mirroring his concern. “You’re right about the weather
looking gloomy. We’ll likely run into rain soon and getting soaked isn’t going to do that cough of yours any good.” She patted the seat. “Why don’t you ride up here with me where there’s at least a little protection from the elements? There’s more than enough room.”

“Thanks for the offer, but it’s not raining yet. We might get lucky and miss it altogether. Besides I want to keep an eye on that bull. I can’t watch him if I’m inside the buggy.”

“What if I let you handle the reins? Then you can go just as slow and easy as you like.”

As if there was any question but that he’d take the reins if he climbed in. “Thanks, but I’ll ride Chester awhile longer.” He stepped back, but then noticed her shoulders flutter. Was she cold? With a frown, he reached back into the buggy and plucked out the picnic cloth, placing it on the seat beside her. “Here, use this as an extra lap blanket.”

She held it out. “Maybe you should—”

He didn’t let her finish. “Don’t argue. I’m used to being out in all sorts of weather—cows and fences need to be tended to year-round—so this bit of nastiness doesn’t bother me.”

Despite his reassurances to her, Griff eyed the horizon worriedly. Besides being markedly colder, there was a dampness in the air now that didn’t bode well for his hope of staying dry. And worse yet, he knew he wasn’t quite as okay as he’d tried to convince her. He was coughing more often now and that general achiness had settled into his bones.

He just needed to get home to Hawk’s Creek. Inez would take it from there. But first, he had to get Ruby Tuggle safely delivered to Reverend Martin at Cornerstone.

Using the buggy’s step, he reached up to loosen the side panels. “In fact, I’m going to fasten down the sides. If it
does
start raining, you’ll be better protected.”

It would also make conversation between them more difficult.

Now why didn’t that thought please him as much as it would have when they’d set out this morning?

He mounted his horse and gave her the signal to set the buggy in motion. By his reckoning they had another four hours of travel ahead of them. And that was assuming they didn’t make any more stops or encounter delays. There was no way the rain was going to hold off that long.

Sure enough, thirty minutes later he felt the first drop of rain. It was isolated for the moment, but it wouldn’t be for much longer. The urge to move faster was strong but he couldn’t do it as long as he had that bull to transport.

Clenching his jaw, he reached a decision. Maneuvering his horse closer to the buggy, he claimed Ruby’s attention. “There’s a farmhouse just up the road a bit. I’m going to ride on ahead to talk to the owner if you think you’ll be okay for a few minutes on your own.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He felt as if he were abandoning her. Ridiculous,
because it was straight ahead less than half a mile. “Keep at this pace and pull over by the barn when you get there. All right?”

This time she merely nodded and to his surprise didn’t ask any questions about what he was up to.

By the time the buggy caught up with him, he’d struck a deal with the farmer, a man by the name of Fred Callums who had been blessed with an army of children. Griff had counted at least eight faces peering out from various windows and doors before he lost count. Mr. Callums seemed quite eager to care for the bull for the next few days in return for the five dollars Griff offered him. No doubt money was scarce in this very full household.

Within minutes of Ruby’s arrival, the bull was untied and led to a paddock by one of Mr. Callums’s boys, and Griff had handed over the bag of oats and the money to the farmer himself, along with a promise to send someone to fetch the animal in the next day or two.

He turned to his traveling companion. “If you don’t mind, I think I’m ready to take you up on that offer to ride in the buggy.”

“Of course.”

Was that a hint of relief in her smile? He tied Chester to the back of the buggy where the bull had been a few minutes ago, then climbed up next to her. The cat let out an indignant yowl at being disturbed. So much for the varmint’s gratitude for Griff’s rescue.

Ruby immediately reached down to pet the animal with a “Hush now” command while Griff matched the
cat’s glare with one of his own, and the animal finally subsided.

Griff released the brake and gave the reins a flick. “Now, let’s see if we can make a little better time.”

“That was a good idea, finding a place to stable your bull.”

Griff shrugged. “That’s one less thing to have to worry about if this storm gets worse.” He cut a glance her way. “I’d thought that I might ask them to put you up for the night as well, but when I saw how many were in that household I didn’t think you’d be very comfortable there.”

She gave him a reassuring smile. “I don’t mind sleeping in a barn if it comes to that, but you’re right, it would have put them out to have yet another person to look after.” He noticed her chin tilt up slightly. “And I’m not as fragile as you seem to think. Short of ice and hail, I’ll survive a bit of wet winter weather just fine.”

He certainly hoped she was right—he wouldn’t want her to get sick while she was under his care.

She reached for the blanket that was over her lap. “Speaking of which, I have two of these. Why don’t you take one?”

He waved the offer aside. “Keep it. I’m fine for now.”

No way was he going to let her mollycoddle him, especially at the expense of her own comfort.

Ruby compressed her lips in a worried line. It had been nearly an hour since they’d left the Cal
lums place and so far the dark clouds had only managed to produce a light drizzle. But her companion was not looking good. He sat hunched in his seat and his cough was painful to listen to. She’d asked twice again if he wanted to use one of the blankets, but he’d been almost brusque in his refusal. Was it a matter of pride with him? Or did he truly not realize how sick he was?

When the next coughing spasm overtook him she’d had enough. She pulled the top blanket off her lap and firmly placed it on his.

Mr. Lassiter shot her an irritated look, but she glared right back. To her relief he finally nodded and issued a curt “Thank you.”

She sensed the weariness beneath his irritation and so refused to take offense. “Would you like me to take the reins for a little while?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

If she’d been standing she would have stomped her foot. “Just
saying
you’re fine doesn’t make it so. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re sick.”

“I told you, I don’t get sick.” The words were almost a growl and his tone would have been intimidating if it hadn’t ended on a particularly nasty cough.

Besides, did he have any idea how absolutely ridiculous that assertion sounded? “I don’t think that’s something you have absolute control over. And anyway, that cough of yours seems to be contradicting your statement.”

His only response was a tightening of his jaw and a quick flicking of the reins.

They rode along without speaking for a while. Finally she broke the silence again, trying for a less volatile subject. “How much longer until we get to this Cornerstone of yours?”

“It’s not mine.” He shot her a quick look, then softened his tone. “It’s about another hour and a half.” His lips quirked up in a self-mocking grin. “Why? Are you tired of the traveling or of the company?”

“Just curious.” She lifted Patience onto her lap, looking for a bit of moral support. “But you know, maybe you should think about spending the night there yourself, especially if it’s still raining when we arrive. The sooner you get dried out in front of a fire the better.”

His irritation flared again. “Hang it all, will you
please
stop acting as if I’m about to keel over dead? For the last time, it’s just a cough. And since Hawk’s Creek is only another thirty minutes past Cornerstone, I’d just as soon dry out in front of my own fire in my own house.”

But Ruby focused on the pallor of his complexion and the unhealthy glitter of his eyes rather than his tone. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was running a fever. By the time they reached Cornerstone, would he even be capable of going on alone? If not, would she be able to stop him? “Is there a doctor in Cornerstone?”

He shot her another of those glowers and she held up a hand. “I’m just making conversation.”

“No,” he answered. “About the only thing you’ll find in Cornerstone is a church, a schoolhouse and a general store.”

That wasn’t a town, it was a stopover. “So where do folks around there go for treatment when they get sick?”

He shrugged. “Most families take care of their own when they can. There are doctors in Tyler if it’s something really serious.” He shifted in his seat, grimacing. “Inez is pretty good with treating folks at Hawk’s Creek when we’re ailing or get injured.”

That comment sent her thoughts down a different rabbit trail. “How many folks live at your ranch?”

He seemed happier with this topic. “Me and Inez, of course. Then there’s Red, the ranch foreman, Manny who helps out around the place and three other hands who stay on year-round. We hire on more help during the busier times.”

It must be a bigger place than she’d thought. “Is cattle all you deal with?”

“We raise horses, too, but mostly for our own use. There’s a small peach orchard and we grow most of our own feed—hay, oats, corn, wheat. But yes, cattle is our main focus.”

Ruby absently stroked Patience’s head. “And you enjoy it? Raising cattle, I mean.”

“Yep. Would have looked for other work years ago if I didn’t.”

“So what is it that you like about it?”

“Just about everything.” He gave her a quick look. “Watching the new calves being born and growing into healthy livestock. Seeing the land green up every spring and burst out with new life. The sweet way the hay and the grain smell when it’s harvested. Riding
across acre after acre of Hawk’s Creek and knowing my father and grandfather rode those same paths before me. And that, God willing, my own children will ride them, too, someday.”

She watched Griff’s face as he talked, enthralled by the passion she saw there. He truly did love that place and the way of life it provided.

Fifteen minutes later the rain had progressed from a light drizzle to a steady shower. Even worse, a gusty wind had kicked up and was periodically spitting the cold rain in their faces. Griff was visibly shivering. She tucked the lap robe more snugly around him without asking, then offered to take the reins “for a while.” It was telling that he didn’t put up an argument on either front.

Another ten minutes and she was getting seriously concerned that he wouldn’t be upright much longer.

“I think a change of plans might be in order,” he said after another spasm of coughs.

“What did you have in mind?”

“If you have no objections, I think it would be better to take you on to Hawk’s Creek with me rather than drop you off at Cornerstone.”

She felt a little spurt of pleasure at the thought that he wanted to show her his homeplace. “I’d certainly enjoy seeing this wonderful ranch you’ve been telling me about.”

“Of course. But more importantly, if we bypass Cornerstone altogether, there’s a shortcut we can take. The road’s not quite as good, but it’ll cut about thirty minutes off of the trip.”

Oh. He was being practical, not neighborly. “Then that’s definitely the way to go. I won’t get a lick of sleep tonight unless I know you made it safely there.”

He managed a smile. “Wouldn’t want to be responsible for you not getting a good night’s rest.” Then he sobered. “Keep an eye out for a large oak with one side sheared off by lightning. A little ways past that you’ll see a road branch off to your right. That’s our shortcut—it’ll take you right to Hawk’s Creek.”

A few minutes later she spied the milestone he’d mentioned. “There’s the scorched tree.”