Ruby (18 page)
“I see you’ve been busy, Birdie.”
“Yes’m. Been baking and cooking for hours and it’s only midday.”
“Well, your customers will be glad of all your hard work.”
“Yes’m. Table’s going to be crowded.” She glanced at the basket on Ruby’s arm. “That the tablecloth we’ve been hearing about?”
“This is it.” Ruby started toward the dining room. “Would you like to give me a hand with it?”
“Yes’m. But Mrs. Potter said I was to call her as soon as you arrived.”
Birdie’s shout brought Millie out of the kitchen. Wiping her hands on her apron, Millie watched as Ruby and Birdie cleared the big, scarred wooden table of the few things clustered in the center. A chipped sugar bowl and dainty cream pitcher. A vase of wildflowers. A sturdy water pitcher. All were set on a sideboard. Then Ruby unfolded the cloth.
“Oh, my” was all Birdie could manage.
Ruby gave the cloth a slight shake. It drifted across the table and began to settle.
“Oh, Ruby.” Millie clapped her hands to her cheeks in a gesture of delight as Ruby and Birdie took either end and straightened it out. “Just look at it. It’s like something the angels might have spun.”
“It is that,” Birdie said with a trace of awe. “Like the dew that covers the ground early in the morning. Or the snowflakes up on Widow’s Peak.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” came a voice from the doorway.
Ruby glanced over to see Quent leaning casually against the wall.
Her heart did a series of flips and she knew her face was suffused with color. She wanted to turn away, to hide the blush. But she couldn’t help drinking in the sight of him. His commanding presence seemed to fill the room.
“You’re early, Quent,” Millie said. “Most of my boarders are still upstairs, washing up from their travels. Supper won’t be served until we get this table set and the last of the meat cut. Which reminds me...” She started back to the kitchen. “I’ll see to the food, Birdie. You set this table.”
“Yes’m.”
“I can help,” Ruby volunteered. Anything would be better than having to stand here, feeling Quent’s dark gaze boring into her. He hadn’t even spoken to her. And she had the feeling, from the way his eyes narrowed on her, that he would prefer not to.
“No, you won’t help in here,” Millie said firmly. “You’ve done enough. You and Quent go along to the parlor. Birdie will bring some lemonade and biscuits.”
“Is lemonade the best you can do?” Quent’s tone held a note of disapproval.
Millie glanced at him in surprise. “Quent Regan, you’ve been grouchy as a bear since you got back to town. If you want something stronger, I suggest you see Buck over at the saloon.”
“Guess I’ll make do with lemonade,” he muttered as he held the door for Ruby.
She had no choice but to lead the way to the parlor. Once there, instead of taking a seat, she walked to the mantel, to avoid facing Quent. Spotting a tintype of a very young Millie Potter and a handsome young man, she picked it up to examine it more closely.
“It doesn’t do them justice.” At the sound of Quent’s voice, Ruby steeled herself. He was standing directly behind her, peering at the picture over her shoulder.
“They were the most popular couple in Hanging Tree,” Quent said. “Mick was always laughing, teasing. And Millie just naturally liked people. Everybody loved them. Funny,” he mused. “Mick’s hair was as red as Millie’s. They looked more like brother and sister than husband and wife. And he was so proud of those three little girls. Always called them his angels.”
“It must be very hard for her.” Ruby started to set the photo down, but nerves had her fumbling, and she dropped it. “Oh.
Mon Dieu
.”
Mon Dieu
.”
She and Quent reached for it at the same time, and managed to catch it before it hit the floor. In their eagerness to save the picture from shattering, their fingers tangled. A bolt of lightning would have been less shocking. As they straightened, they found themselves face-to-face, their lips nearly touching.
For a moment they froze, neither one able to move. Ruby chanced a quick glance at Quent’s eyes. There was a strange look in them. One of guarded invitation. She had the distinct impression that, were she to move her face just a fraction, she would find his mouth warm, and firm, and inviting. The mere thought of it had her nearly overcome by a blaze of heat. But before she could push aside the paralysis that gripped her, Birdie’s voice had them both stepping apart with twin looks of guilt.
“Mrs. Potter said, since this is a special day, with the new lace cloth and folks in for tomorrow’s town social and all, that she wanted you to enjoy some of her best elderberry wine.”
The girl set down a tray containing a decanter and two glasses, before hurrying away.
Ruby shot another glance at Quent, and felt her heart sink. It must have been her imagination. Now there was no welcoming warmth in those narrowed eyes. They were once again cold, bleak, forbidding.
“It isn’t whiskey,” he said, filling two glasses, “but it’s better than nothing.”
He offered one to her, then turned away and downed his in one long swallow.
While she sipped, he filled his glass a second time and drank it more slowly. And all the while he stood, staring morosely out the window, not making any attempt at conversation.
“Supper’s ready,” Millie called.
Upstairs, doors opened and closed, and footsteps sounded on the steps.
“Time to head to the dining room.” He couldn’t hide the relief in his voice. “I hear the others coming.”
He walked to the door, then stood back, waiting for Ruby to precede him.
As she led the way down the hall, she had to swallow a burning in her throat. Not tears, she told herself firmly. It was merely the elderberry wine. And if truth be told, she was glad for this interruption. Marshal Quent Regan had made it plain that he had not forgotten their last encounter. Perhaps it was just as well that she hadn’t caught up with him and accepted his apology.
She was better off without this man. And his temper. And his arrogance. And his dark, brooding attitude.
And his kisses that set her on fire.
Chapter Sixteen
I
t was a day of frantic activity. Ruby had promised her three sisters new gowns for the social, as well as new shirts for their husbands. And as a surprise, she was making Pearl’s boys new outfits. Daniel’s was to be short pants and a white shirt. Gil’s was to be a new suit, as befitted a young man of fourteen.
t was a day of frantic activity. Ruby had promised her three sisters new gowns for the social, as well as new shirts for their husbands. And as a surprise, she was making Pearl’s boys new outfits. Daniel’s was to be short pants and a white shirt. Gil’s was to be a new suit, as befitted a young man of fourteen.
She glanced at the row of dresses and shirts hanging neatly on hooks in the shop. It gave her a sense of pride to know that her talent was going to make her family so happy.
On top of that she had made a new dress for Birdie Bidwell. Without the girl’s measurements, she’d had to guess at her size. But she knew, no matter how it fit, Birdie would be delighted.
If she hadn’t been so busy, she would have delivered the dress herself, just so she could see the girl’s face. But she’d had to settle for sending it with Patience.
Her fingers flew across the fabric. One last dress, and she would be finished for the day.
She was so engrossed in her work, she didn’t even pause when she heard the door open.
“How did Birdie like my surprise?” she asked.
When no one answered, she looked up. And froze.
Quent was standing just inside the door. Dressed all in black, with his guns at his hips, he looked completely out of place in this fussy, frilly room.
“I...thought you were Patience.”
“Where is your assistant?” He remained where he was. His voice was gruff, to hide the emotions churning in his gut.
“I sent her to Millie’s boardinghouse, to deliver a package.”
“I came to give you a report on her.”
Ruby shot him an angry look. “What do you mean, a report?”
“Arlo and Millie told me that you didn’t know anything about her before you hired her. I thought I’d try to find out a little about her background.”
“I don’t care to...”
Seeing her angry reaction, he crossed to her and held out a hand. “It’s all right, Ruby. I’m not here to report anything bad.”
She hadn’t even known she’d been holding her breath, until this moment.
She sighed. “I’m glad.”
When he didn’t volunteer anything more, she said, “As long is there’s nothing unpleasant, I’ll listen to the report.”
His voice fell. “I didn’t say it wasn’t unpleasant.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a familiar enough story. She grew up on a hardscrabble ranch on the banks of the Rio Grande. Her mother died a couple of years ago. Her father wasn’t much good with the soil, but he knew a little about horses. So he worked other people’s ranches. After her mother died, Patience went with him, helping out in the kitchens or the fields. Last year her father was thrown while he was breaking a mustang. Patience took him back home, but he never recovered. He just kept failing. And then, when he died, there was nobody who’d buy the ranch. And no way for one young girl to keep it going. As far as anyone could tell me, she just walked away one day. And kept on walking until she got to Hanging Tree.”
“That’s pretty accurate, Marshal. But you missed a couple of things.”
At the sound of the young girl’s voice, Quent and Ruby glanced up to see Patience standing in the doorway. Her lips were quivering, but to her credit, she held her head high. “I thought burying Pa was the hardest thing I’d ever done. But it wasn’t. Surviving was. Trying to stay alive while I made my way to Hanging Tree. And once here, when I couldn’t find work, or a place to sleep, or food to eat, I wondered how I’d get through another day. Maybe Miss Ruby is too nice to tell you the truth about me. But I think you ought to know. I stole from her.”
Quent fixed his gaze on the girl who stood trembling in the doorway.
“When I came back later, hoping to sneak into the back room to sleep, Miss Ruby caught me. She could have turned me over to your deputy. She had every right. But instead she gave me food, and offered me a job. And even though she didn’t know anything about me, she trusted me. She even made me feel like I was helping her instead of the other way around.”
She swallowed, then began removing the crisp white pinafore. “I suppose you’ll want to take me over to the jail now, Marshal.” She hung it neatly on a hook.
“Now, why would I want to do that, Patience?” he asked.
She turned. “I just told you. I stole from Miss Ruby’s shop.”
Quent glanced at Ruby. “Did you make a report?”
“No. I...no.” Ruby shook her head.
Quent showed no emotion. But his voice gentled. “Then I guess I’ll just have to forget what you said. Unless the owner reports the theft, it’s out of my hands.”
He touched a hand to his hat, then crossed the room. “I’d better get back to work.”
“Will you be coming to the social tomorrow?” The words were out of Ruby’s mouth before she could stop them.
He shrugged, still frowning. “I probably won’t have time. With so many strangers coming into town, I’ll probably have my hands full keeping peace in the town.”
Ruby’s heart fell.
Ruby and Patience watched as he strolled away.
Then, as Ruby bent to her sewing, she said softly, “I guess we’d better get back to work, as well.”
Without a word Patience removed the pinafore from the hook and pulled it on. As she did, one tear rolled down her cheek. She lifted a hand to brush at it before turning to greet a new customer.
Behind her, Ruby also brushed away a tear. And blamed it on the fact that she’d been straining her eyes.
The sky was a clear, brittle blue, without a single cloud to mar the beauty. The merest hint of a breeze whispered through the leaves of the trees. It was a perfect day for a town social.
By the time Ruby’s wagon rolled into town, the main street was littered with carts and rigs of every size and description: She and Patience could see throngs of people trudging up the hill toward the church. The men wore dark suits and wide-brimmed hats; the colorful gowns of the women gave them the look of beautiful butterflies. Children ran ahead or danced around their parents, propelled by boundless energy.
When they pulled up to the livery, Neville Oakley hurried forward to help them down. His smile was warm, his greeting cordial, until he held out his hand to Patience. At the sight of her his mouth opened, but he made not a sound.
“Good morning, Mr. Oakley,” she said, as she had every morning.
And, like every morning, there was no answering greeting. Instead, Neville Oakley merely stared. And swallowed.
The young woman’s smile faltered a bit as she and Ruby followed the others, making their way through the throngs headed to the Golden Rule.
Reverend Dan Simpson kept the service mercifully short. After a brief sermon about seeing the goodness in every man, and the importance of being good neighbors, he led the congregation in a spirited hymn. Then, as he called for dismissal, he reminded everyone that this was a special day.
“Let us give thanks for this opportunity to break bread with our neighbors, and to share the fruits of our labors.”
Ruby, making her way down the aisle beside her sisters, spotted Quent at the rear of the church. But by the time she got there, he was nowhere to be seen.
She touched a hand to her chest and wondered if she’d ever get used to the empty, hollow feeling around her heart.
Outside, the children gathered for the first of their contests—the three-legged races. The winners would be awarded blue ribbons and Carmelita’s sugar cookies.
Pearl and Cal were hoarse from cheering when Daniel and Gil won. The two boys proudly displayed their ribbons as they ate their cookies in front of their friends, who jealously watched.
Some of the men held a horse race, which Adam handily won. Forced to watch from the sidelines, Diamond patted her swollen middle. “Next year,” she reminded her sisters, “that’ll be me winning that ribbon.”
Pearl dropped an arm around her shoulders.
“Adam will share it with you, Di.”
“It’s not the same as winning it myself.” She forced a smile to her lips as Adam started toward her. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to just standing around while my husband has all the fun.”
“Speaking of fun.” Jade pointed toward a cluster of men who had gathered inside the corral of Neville Oakley’s stable for a shooting match. “I think this might be a good time for us to get as far away as possible and start our quilting bee.”
Though many of the women drew away, Ruby moved closer, until she was leaning against the fence. It wasn’t that she had an interest in the contest. But she’d spotted Quent among the contestants.
There were more than a dozen men holding rifles, while Doc Prentice explained the rules to them. Soon the air was filled with the volley of gunfire. Several of the men, including Cal and Adam, hit the target every time. But Quent Regan was the only man who hit not only the target but the bull’s-eye with every shot.
Watching him, Ruby felt her heart constrict. He was so self-assured. So quietly competent. And so deadly accurate with a gun. The badge on his shirt was a constant reminder of that fact.
While the men patted him on the back, he laughed and accepted their congratulations. But when he looked up and saw Ruby watching, his laughter faded.
Feeling the heat staining her cheeks, she pushed her way through the crowd and went in search of the quilting bee.
By midday the men had set up long wooden planks across sturdy tree stumps, while the women hurried to their wagons to fetch the food they’d so lovingly prepared. Soon the tables groaned beneath the weight, and children twitched and fidgeted, as all those wonderful fragrances assaulted them, trying their patience to the limit.
As soon as the reverend led them in prayer, then called for the feasting to commence, long lines began to form. Everyone filled their plates, then sought shady spots to eat. Families from far-flung ranches gathered to share the news of crops and herds.
Ruby filled her plate and joined her family. As she took a seat on the grass, Diamond, sprawled out beside her in the shade of a tree, shouted, “Quent. Over here. Come and join us.”
Ruby suddenly found her appetite gone as the marshal walked over.
“Sit here,” Diamond said as she got slowly to her feet. “I’m going back for seconds.”
Then she was gone, and Quent had no choice but to sit on the grass beside Ruby.
Across from him Pearl said, “You men are all alike. I see you chose the spiciest dish on the table.”
“It’s great,” Quent said as he took a mouthful. “What’s it called?”
“Gumbo,” Pearl told him. “Ruby made it.”
“You did? I didn’t know you cooked.”
Ruby felt oddly pleased that he’d chosen her dish. And even more pleased that he liked it. “With Carmelita in the kitchen, I rarely get the chance. But Daniel and Gil brought me a bucket of fish from Poison Creek and I gave them my word I’d make them my gumbo. I don’t know if it will be as tasty as the catfish we had in the bayou, but I do know it will be as spicy.”
He took another bite. It was as hot and spicy as the woman who’d made it.
“I don’t know how you found time to cook, with all the sewing you’ve been doing,” Pearl remarked.
Ruby saw Quent turn to her, and was forced to endure his quiet gaze. She flushed. “It wasn’t easy. But I gave the boys my word, so I had to keep it.”
Just then Arlo arrived, breathless. “Marshal, there’s an argument heating up over at Buck’s saloon. Two ranchers been putting away a lot of whiskey and eyeing the same filly. Buck sent me to fetch you before it gets out of hand.”
Quent handed his empty plate to his deputy and said wearily, “Looks like I’ll skip the cakes and pies.” He tipped his hat to the women, then spared a quick glance at Ruby before saying, “Excuse me.”
While all around her the others cleaned their plates and helped themselves to more, Ruby sat very still, wondering how long it would take before her heart would stop betraying her like this. Each time Quent Regan came near her, the reaction was always the same. A wild, fluttering of pulse beat, then a numbness. As though even her heart had lost the will to continue.
The children ran off their meal, playing tag and hide-and-seek. Men dozed in the shade of trees, their hats over their faces. Women gathered over their quilts, fingers flying as they exchanged gossip or family recipes or tales of childbirth.
“You’re going to have a boy,” the widow Purdy told Diamond.
“I am?” Diamond looked mystified. “How do you know?”
“Carrying low. All in front. Yep. Definitely a boy.” The old woman turned to Pearl. “And yours is a girl.”
Pearl gasped. “How did you know...? I mean, I haven’t even told anyone except my family that I was having a baby.”
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