A Groom for Ruby

by Laura Ashwood

  The toe of her shoe bumped into something on the floor and she looked down. A small ring was attached to one of the boards and it looked as though there was a door in the floor. She slid a glance to Everett.

  “It’s the cellar,” he shrugged. “I don’t like it down there. It’s dark and there are spiders,” he made a face.

  Ruby shuddered, she didn’t like spiders either, but a cellar could mean more food. She pulled the ring and the door lifted easily, revealing a narrow staircase. She turned back to the dry sink, looking for matches to light the lantern that sat on the kitchen table.

  “They’re up there,” Everett pointed to the top of the warming cabinet on the cook stove.

  Ruby looked and sure enough, there was a box of matches. She turned to Everett. “How did you know that’s what I was looking for?”

  “Ma always took the lantern with her down there, so I figured you’d want to too,” he said. “That way you can watch for spiders and stuff.”

  “Thank you, Everett. That was very helpful,” she gave the boy a smile before striking the match and lighting the lantern. She slowly went down the stairs, half expecting to encounter layers of spider webs, based on Everett’s opinion of the cellar. The room was fairly large and while it smelled musty, there were no cobwebs to be found, at least none that she could see from the bottom of the stairs. What she could see, however, were rows of shelves that were lined with jars and jars of canned food. In one corner were several barrels that, upon inspection, were full of a variety of salt-cured meat and fish. Ruby could have cried. Thank you, Lord, for providing this bounty. She also said a quick thank you to Ida, God rest her soul.

  “Everett,” she called. “Come and help me carry some of these jars upstairs please.”

  A shadow crossed the floor and his small face appeared at the top of the stairs, his eyes wide with worry. “It’s scary down there.”

  “I’ll be right here with you, and I promise there are no spiders,” she beckoned him with her hand and he reluctantly descended the stairs.

  They took only a small number of jars, as Ruby had little space to store them. She was also afraid of breaking the precious cargo. The wood salt barrels were too heavy for her to move, and she didn’t have anything to carry the meat in, so she left them and would bring something with her next time she came over. Next time. Her heart grew heavy at the thought. She still felt like she was pilfering off the misfortune of others.

  She closed the cellar door and carefully wrapped the jars in Everett’s blanket. A large basket was on the floor near the door and she filled it with the dry goods she’d taken out of the cabinet. Remembering why they were in the house in the first place, she looked at Everett.

  “Did you find your top?”

  A wide grin spread across his face and he nodded. He lifted his arm and in the palm of his hand, he proudly displayed an empty wooden spool with a carved piece of wood sticking out of each end.

  “That’s a lovely top,” she exclaimed, and marveled at the boy’s joy over such a small object. They gathered their treasures and left the house, carefully closing the door behind them. Ruby arranged the blanket with the jars, and the basket in the front corner of the sled and began to load it with wood. Everett joined her, and before too long they had enough wood in the sled to last them for several days. She hadn’t wanted to overfill the sled and strain the horse, not to mention her arms were already sore from chopping wood and she would have to unload the sled once they returned to her house.

  She had Everett climb onto the small wood pile in the sled and made a kissing sound to urge Buckshot forward. She walked beside the horse and by the time they reached her small farm, the sun was starting to sink on the horizon, casting a pinkish-orange hue across the western sky. She brought the sled to a stop near the barn and unhitched Buckshot and got him settled before gathering the items that needed to go into the house.

  Everett followed her inside and she carefully unwrapped the jars, letting out a sigh of relief when she saw that none of them had broken. She placed the food reverently into her dry sink and spread the blanket on Everett’s pallet. He lay on his stomach on the floor in front of the cook stove happily spinning his top. Not wanting to interrupt his fun with his newly-returned toy, Ruby stepped outside to unload the sled.

  She had just pulled the door shut behind her when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. There was a man she’d never seen before taking the wood out of the sled and stacking it neatly against the barn wall. Ruby flung the door back open and raced inside in the house, slamming the door shut behind her. Who was he and why was he there? She gave a panicked glance around the room and grabbed the shotgun off the rack on the wall. Cyrus had taken his rifle with him on the hunting trip, but thankfully he’d left the shotgun behind.

  “Everett, stay put. No matter what happens, you don’t leave this house, you understand?”

  The boy looked at her with terror in his brown eyes and nodded. Ruby’s heart was pounding so loud she couldn’t tell if he’d said anything or simply nodded. She said a quick prayer, swallowed hard and stepped outside, pulling the door tightly shut behind her.

  The man, who must have heard the commotion in the house, stopped what he was doing and was watching her intently. A white horse was tethered to the broken fence next to the barn, and Ruby assumed it belonged to him. She didn’t see anyone else, but she couldn’t be sure there wasn’t someone hiding in the barn. She turned her attention back to the man. He wore a long brown duster and had a brown leather hat pulled low over his eyes. He wasn’t an overly large man, but he could easily overpower her.

  She raised the gun to her shoulder and rested her cheek on the cool barrel. Her hands were shaking so bad, she could barely hold it steady. “Take one more step and you’re a dead man,” she called in a voice that sounded much braver than she felt. She’d never shot a gun in her life, but he didn’t know that. Her breath caught in her throat and she heard no other sounds but the crunch of snow under his boot as he took a cautious step backwards and raised his hands, his fingers splayed wide.

  “What’s your business here?” her already sore arms were now beginning to shake with the weight of the gun and she didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to hold it.

  “I’m looking for R. Fulton,” he called and slowly lowered one hand into the pocket of his jacket.

  He’s going for a gun! Ruby pulled the trigger and the gun roared, creating a small cloud of smoke. The barrel slammed into her shoulder and jerked her backward, nearly causing her to fall but somehow she managed to stay on her feet. The man fell to the ground and Ruby clenched her jaw as her stomach dropped to her feet. Her fingers went numb and a strange buzzing sound filled her head. She’d killed him.

  She held her breath and took a tentative step forward. The man began to move and she raised the gun despite the screaming pain in her shoulder. Then she saw the large hole in the side of the barn. She hadn’t hit him at all. A mixture of relief and terror coursed through her and she tightened her grip on the gun.

  He once again lifted his hands, empty fingers splayed on one side and a familiar-looking piece of paper clenched in the fist of the other.

  “Don’t shoot!” he called. “I’m looking for R. Fulton,” he gave the paper in his hand a slight wave. “I’m here about the job.”

  Chapter Four

  Cullen waved the job posting in the air as he stared down the barrel of a shotgun in very unstable hands. He’d been in plenty of dangerous situations before, but it never occurred to him he’d go out at the hands of a woman. He’d known right away he was at the right place by the dilapidated condition of the buildings, including the small house. He was quite certain that if the roof didn’t already leak, it would soon. But it was the magnificent star painted on the side of the barn that drew him in like a promise. A promise he could feel in his soul. He couldn’t explain it if he tried, but he somehow knew he belonged here. If he wasn’t killed first.

  “Are you R. Fulton?�
� he called, still holding his hands in the air. The woman holding the gun narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. She was small, and he could see by the quiver in her arms that she wouldn’t be able to hold the gun much longer. Her brown hair, which was almost the same color as her worn dress, had at one time been pulled back into a tight knot at the back of her head but strands had broken free and flew raggedly about her pale face. From this distance, she looked neither intimidating nor particularly beautiful, which was fine with Cullen. He didn’t need a woman to distract him, he just wanted a job to get him through the winter.

  “Who are you?”

  Cullen took a tentative step forward. “My name’s Cullen Parker, ma’am,” he said in the calmest tone he could manage, considering the circumstances. Although if the first shot was any indication of her skill with a gun, he didn’t think he was in any real danger of being hurt, but he didn’t care to be staring down the business end of a gun. “I’m here about the job. Is there an R. Fulton here?”

  She lowered the gun to her slim waist and her cheeks flooded with color. He took another step forward and saw both fear and strength in her eyes. “I’m Ruby Fulton,” she lifted her chin in an attempt to look confident, but her shaking hands and wary expression told a different story. The door to the house remained closed and by the condition of the property Cullen guessed she was here by herself, which would explain why there was now a fresh hole in the side of the barn.

  “Ma’am,” Cullen slowly lowered his hands to his sides. “I came to talk to you about the job, but if you no longer need the help,” he glanced at the broken fence and shrugged, “I’ll just be on my way. I’m sorry to have troubled you.” He turned and walked toward Ghost. He figured if she needed the help, she’d stop him, but he wasn’t about to cause her more fear than he already had.

  “Wait,” her voice held a note of panic. “Don’t leave yet.”

  Cullen stopped and turned around, holding back a satisfied smile. “I’ll stay if you stop pointing that gun at me.”

  She glanced down and shifted the weapon, so its barrel now rested against her shoulder. “I’m terribly sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting…” she stammered, “you startled me. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No,” he smiled. “I can’t say the same for the barn though. I hope you didn’t have any livestock on the other side of that wall.”

  Her cheeks flushed again and a hint of a smile played on her lips. “No, they are on the far end. Would you like to come inside? I can make a pot of coffee and we can talk about the job.”

  “I’d like that,” he followed her into the small but tidy house. Cullen shrugged out of his coat but watched her place the gun back in the rack on the wall before he turned his back to hang it on one of the pegs behind the door. He removed his hat and hung it on a second peg. It was then he noticed the small boy on a makeshift bed on the floor, huddled against the wall near the cook stove.

  It wasn’t much warmer inside the house than it was outside and it didn’t take Cullen very long to figure out why. The chinking in the walls was in bad need of repair, and while he’d seen the closed wooden shutters on the windows from outside, once inside he saw that instead of glass, they consisted merely of folded quilts tacked to the wall. There was no fireplace, only a small cook stove.

  His jaw clenched, and he pressed his lips together. What kind of man lets a woman and child live like this? Then he remembered to reserve judgment until he knew the whole story. There could be a legitimate reason. As Cullen watched Ruby put a pot of coffee on the cook stove, a number of different scenarios ran through his mind, but none of them made sense. If she had been alone for some time, why wouldn’t the townsfolk help her? And if she hadn’t, where was her husband now? Was he one of the men that died in the blizzard the waitress told him about? He felt strangely protective of this woman he’d just met. Maybe it was the way she reminded him of a wounded animal, the way she watched him. Like she was ready to bare her claws at any moment.

  Cullen turned his attention to the boy, who stared at him with an empty expression. “Who do we have here? You’re no bigger than a mite, are you?”

  The boy scrambled to his feet and hid in the folds of Ruby’s dress. She reached her hand back and tenderly touched the youngster’s head before taking two tin cups out of a small cabinet and placing them on the table. She settled the boy back on the floor and gave him a slate and small piece of chalk. He’d never seen such a quiet child.

  “Why don’t you sit,” she stood and gestured toward one of the two chairs in the room. Cullen frowned and rubbed his hand along his jaw. Whatever had happened here, it hadn’t been good. He pulled the chair nearest him out and sat down. Ruby used a folded cloth to take the coffee pot off the stove and she poured some of the hot liquid in each cup, before sitting down in the chair across from him.

  He picked up the cup and sniffed, expecting it to smell like boiled water. Instead, a strong, rich aroma filled his nose. He took a sip, letting the smooth, full-bodied liquid slide down his throat and warm his belly. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the flavor. It was the best coffee he’d ever tasted.

  “Is it all right?” Her voice was laced with concern and he opened his eyes and met her nervous gaze. “I can make another pot if it’s not good,” she slid her chair back as if to stand.

  Cullen blinked. Once. Twice. “No, it’s fine. It’s actually wonderful. Really, please stay seated.”

  Ruby settled back into the chair and wrapped her hands around her cup. A little grimace of pain flitted across her features and she moved her hands to her lap. If he hadn’t been watching her, he might not have noticed, but now he found himself wondering what had caused it.

  She cleared her throat and fidgeted in her chair. “As you can see, there are a number of repairs that need to be done here.”

  Cullen nodded. “Where’s Mr. Fulton?”

  Ruby’s face turned pale and he instantly regretted asking the question.

  “Dead,” she said simply, offering no further explanation. Her face showed no emotion, and he wondered how much experience she had hiding what she felt.

  “I don’t have the means to do them myself,” her gaze shifted to her mug and she ran her teeth over her bottom lip. “I…,” she glanced at the child, “we need some help. I can’t afford to pay you,” her eyes lifted and met his. They were a rich brown, the color of fine whiskey, and had a haunted, almost hollow look to them. While he guessed she was several years younger than he was, it looked like she too had lived more than her share of life.

  “But I can provide room and board. I know it’s not much,” she continued, and her gaze shifted to her cup, which she had yet to touch.

  “I’d be grateful for the work, and the shelter, ma’am,” he took another sip of the delicious coffee. “I can get the repairs done and anything else you might need help with, and be on my way come spring.”

  She lifted her gaze and smiled at him, and when she did, the air went out of him. Her whole face lit up when she smiled and he forced himself to look away. There was something about her that he couldn’t put his finger on, but he had time to figure out what it was.

  “Thank you,” she said, then worry crossed her face once more. “There isn’t much room in the house, and it’s...well...it’s…” She glanced at the corner of the room where a blanket had been hung in front of what Cullen assumed was her bed.

  “I’ll be fine in the barn, ma’am,” he assured her. He’d certainly slept in worse places and wasn’t about to compromise her reputation.

  “Thank you,” she said and rose to her feet. “There’s plenty of hay in the loft, and I can give you extra blankets.” She disappeared behind the curtain and returned a minute later with two thick quilts draped over her arm.

  Cullen drank the last of his coffee and stood. He ran his fingers through his hair, then reached for his hat. He placed it on his head and slipped into his coat. Ruby handed him the quilts and quickly stepped away.

  “If you wan
t to get yourself and your horse settled, I’ll put supper on,” she reached up and grabbed a lantern off a small shelf and handed it to him. “Should be ready in about an hour. You’ll find feed for the horse in the barn as well, and an empty stall next to Buckshot.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Fulton,” he tipped his hat and pretended not to notice her wince when he’d said her name. He stepped out into the dark night and walked toward the barn. He hadn’t been sure what had drawn him to Last Chance, but he knew without hesitation that he was exactly where he needed to be.

  Chapter Five

  Ruby opened a jar of peaches that she’d brought from Henzel’s cellar and put together a quick cobbler. It was a special treat to celebrate her good fortune today. Not only had she solved her food and wood supply problem, but Cullen Parker had showed up and would get her house repaired and weatherproofed. Even after she’d almost killed him. Her face flushed hot as she gave a quick prayer of gratitude for her bad aim.

  She glanced at the chair where he’d been sitting, and thought about how very different his presence in this house seemed than Cyrus’s, even in the short time he’d been inside. She’d always felt like she was about to be pricked with a pin when Cyrus was around. It was impossible to determine when his mood would change, and he would become angry or aggressive, even over the smallest things. Ruby shook her head and pushed those thoughts back to the far corners of her mind where they couldn’t hurt her.

  She turned to check on Everett. He was sitting on his pallet with his back against the wall and his slate balanced on his knees. His little brows furrowed as he concentrated on whatever he was working on. She’d been somewhat surprised when he’d hidden in her skirts when Mr. Parker spoke to him, but could understand his fears. It made her feel good that he was now comfortable enough to come to her when he was scared. Her mind drifted back to her childhood at the orphanage in St. Louis. Not every child was that lucky. She returned her attention to the little boy.