Ruby (Angel Creek Christmas Brides Book 3)

by Hildie McQueen

  After tearful farewells, as no one was sure how long the storm would keep them cloistered, Ruby finally allowed Trevor to guide her out. Someone had arranged to send her small carpetbag to his home, so that left her with only a reticule to carry.

  Upon stepping outside, the icy wind took made Ruby gasp. The freezing wind cut straight through her thick cloak. “How far do you live?”

  Trevor motioned with his right hand. “Only a few minutes walk. Come, I’ll help you.” He placed his arms around her shoulders attempting to shelter her from the falling snow and hard wind. It didn’t help much, but the awareness of him however did dispel some of the chill.

  Trevor wasn’t sure if his new wife shook from the cold or because of wedding nerves. In all, probably from both. That she’d be so overwrought seemed kind of strange to him since they’d known about it for months. Then again, what he knew about women came only from treating them.

  One thing he’d learned over the years was that when it came to pain and injury, women were a stronger sex. They withstood pain with soft moans that would make a grown man pass out.

  He slid a look at his new bride. Ruby was much prettier than he’d expected, and he had actually been struck silent when she’d walked into the chapel.

  “H-how f-far to your h-house?” she asked through chattering teeth.

  “Just around the corner,” he replied leaving out the part of having to walk down that street for a bit before arriving at his home. He’d not considered bringing a wagon since the walk wasn’t far in his opinion. With the storm brewing, it was easier to brave the wind and walk than to try manage nervous horses and an equally jittery bride.

  Pulling his bride against him, he pressed her to a brisker pace. She kept up even though Ruby was shorter than him by almost a foot, the top of her head at his shoulder. Lifting her head she scanned the area.

  Being from the east himself, he knew Angel Creek appeared rustic and uncultured. In truth, it was a vibrant small town when the cold didn’t force everyone indoors. She let out a sigh as if finding the surroundings unacceptable.

  Earlier, when Ruby had entered the chapel, her expression guarded, she’d closely inspected him and the other three bachelors. Her intelligent eyes scanning over them, seeming to dismiss each one systematically as they didn’t meet whatever criteria her mind was set on. It was interesting that she’d hesitated upon seeing him, and her head had cocked just a bit. Then after a few moments, he too was dismissed.

  His lips curved, wondering what she’d been expecting. One day he’d ask, but for now, it was best to get her warmed up and settled. They had plenty of time to talk.

  Trevor’s chest tightened when she sniffed and wiped at her cheeks.

  “Are you crying?” It was a stupid question, but he wasn’t sure what else to say.

  “I’m sad for Anna. Her husband was untidy and well... Julia is going away to where ever her husband lives. I’m afraid for her.” This time when she sniffed, it was accompanied by a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I imagine each of you is going through a lot of emotions right now.” They walked a few moments and he was grateful to arrive at his house. “This is your new home Ruby.”

  She hesitated, distracted from her sadness for the moment, and looked from the house to him. “It’s larger than I expected.” Her lips curved just a bit, and he smiled in return.

  “Let’s get inside so you can warm up. I’ll see about getting some supper started.”

  “Oh?” she said, giving him a quizzical look. “I must admit to not knowing how to cook very well, but I’ve seen it done and am sure I’ll be able to learn in no time. I’m a quick study.” With those words, she allowed him to guide her up the steps to the doorway.

  “Doctor Collins.” A young teenage boy named Hank rushed to them just as they walked inside. “There’s a man at the clinic. He’s been run straight through with arrows.”

  When Ruby stumbled forward, Trevor realized he pushed her harder than he planned in his haste to keep her from hearing what Hank had called out. Surely a woman just arriving from the south, who was no doubt raised in a home where she’d not had to cook, would not be keen to hear such things. At least not so soon after arriving.

  She paled even further and her widened eyes moved from Hank, who stood just inside the door, to him. “Do Indians often attack people here?” She looked about to swoon so he took her by the shoulders and met her gaze. “Breathe in slowly.” She did although it was shaky. “Now out.” Trevor looked over his shoulder at Hank who shifted from one foot to the other. “Get him inside and onto the bed. I’ll be there shortly.”

  Cold air blasted in when Hank opened the door and hurried back out into the snow.

  Trevor led her to a chair in front of the fireplace. “I have to go. The bedroom on the right is ours. Feel free to freshen up and rest. There are some food items in the kitchen.” He went to the hearth. “You can put the kettle on the hook here.” Pulling on the iron hook hinge, he demonstrated how to move it. “There is a large pitcher of water in the kitchen you can use to fill it up to make tea or coffee.”

  Unsure what else to say, he stopped speaking. The poor woman remained with the same wide-eyed confused expression.

  “All right, so I will sleep in another bedroom when I return. Don’t fret over that.”

  That said, he hurried from the house wondering if she’d heard a word he’d said. Of all the times for this to happen. It was rare that anyone with any kind of injuries such as this came to Angel Creek. Especially not during the winter when most people tended to remain indoors including the Indians. Also as unlikely was that any Indian would attack a person. The local tribes were friendly, often coming to Angel Creek to make trades.

  After closing the door tightly behind him, he hurried out the door toward the clinic just a few yards away.

  Chapter Two

  With frustrated swipes across her cheeks, Ruby stood from the chair and stalked to the window. Gloomy and desolate would be how she’d describe the view. The wind blew the falling snow sideways and although interesting to watch, with each passing moment the awareness she’d be trapped inside sent tendrils of apprehension down her spine.

  She straightened her spine and held her head high in an attempt to gain control of the turmoil in her mind. Dwelling in pity was not how Ruby handled situations and neither would she allow fear to affect common sense. Of course, it was natural for there to be a few tears, she was a woman after all. However, she’d find a way to keep a cool head.

  The current situation was certainly outside the norm of anything she’d ever experienced. This was not at all how she pictured the start of life in Angel Creek.

  Chilled, she returned to stand in front of the fireplace, letting out a long sigh. Tears continued to stream down her face no matter how hard she tried to stop them. Unable to remain upright when her knees buckled, Ruby dropped to the floor and covered her face.

  The warmth from the fire did nothing to stop the trembling as she cried. Why had she agreed to this? It had all sounded fantastic in theory; to travel, marry and start families in the west. The idea of it had fascinated her until she’d been giddy with excitement at the prospect.

  Now the reality of what she’d done settled like a huge boulder across her shoulders, pressing her down until she could barely breath. What was she going to do? The storm meant they could possibly be snowed in for days, weeks even. She’d start this marriage without seeing her dearest friends. None of them would find support and comfort with each other as they’d planned.

  Then there was the entire business of having to speak to her husband and inform him of the awful truth she’d kept from her own friends. What would happen if he rejected her and sent her away? Where could she possibly go? Ruby held out hope that one of her friend’s would be able to convince their new husbands to give her harbor. As each idea popped into her mind, she cried harder. Soon she could barely make a sound, her throat raw and eyes so swollen it was imp
ossible to open them enough to see properly.

  “This is ridiculous. I can’t lay about on the floor like a simpering fool,” Ruby said to the empty room. “Best to lie down and simper in bed.”

  A light giggle escaped her raw throat. Now she was talking to herself. What would be next? A mental institution?

  Trevor’s bedroom was dimly lit, the only light coming from a lantern on a side table. There was a large bed with small tables on each side. The room was chilly, the fire in the hearth almost gone. Thankfully, there was wood beside the fireplace. she added two logs to the burning embers and watched as the fire slowly grew.

  Once the fire burned brightly, she stepped backward until her heel hit a trunk at the foot of the bed. Her legs gave way and she sunk down upon it, her gaze not moving from the fire.

  The chill dispelled quickly, the cheerful fire quite the contrast to her current mood. It made her want to sob all over again.

  She wondered absently if the bedroom would give clues to her husband’s personality. There was a wardrobe on one wall and on the other a washbasin stand. Everything was orderly and neat. Items lined up in perfect lines, not a speck of dust to be found on any surface.

  She wondered if Trevor had someone come and clean in preparation for her arrival. Obviously, there were no live-in servants as none had appeared, and he’d informed her she was to see about her own meal and tea.

  It became warm enough for Ruby to remove her coat and shoes. So she did, ensuring to fold her coat neatly and place it over the back of a chair.

  Much too exhausted to undress at the moment, she climbed into the bed fully dressed. Her carpetbag was in the room. Perhaps later she’d see about changing.

  What she needed most was to rest and time to allow her nerves to settle. It wouldn’t do for her husband to find her with swollen eyes and a pitiful disposition upon returning. Within minutes, Ruby could not keep her eyes open.

  The sound of footfalls brought Ruby out of her slumber. She shivered, wondering if the fire in the hearth had gone out. The shadow of a person moved about the room. Whoever it was hesitated at the foot of the bed, then a heavy blanket was placed over her. The warmth of the blanket immediately beckoned her to snuggle deep into it and she promptly fell back to sleep.

  Sunlight came too soon and although it was not bright, the dim rays announced the beginning of a new day.

  Hesitant to confront anyone yet, Ruby lingered in bed. It was silent, the house seemed to be empty but for her. Holding her breath, she listened intently for any sound of movement or voices. Strange for it to be so quiet. Then again, it was probably very early in the morning since she’d fallen asleep before dark.

  “It’s a good thing,” she whispered to herself. “I can get ready and make tea before Trevor rises.”

  She placed more wood into the fireplace and waited for the room to warm while sitting on the floor with the blanket around her shoulders. Trevor must have come during the night and covered her with it. Ruby wasn’t sure if she was pleased at the thought of him seeing her sleeping.

  She pushed the thought away and studied the room.

  There were no adornments of any kind. The curtain, if one could call it that, was a shorn piece of fabric that was held in place with nails.

  There would be much to do to make the place presentable. Evidently he’d not purchased or had anything made in quite some time. The bedding was threadbare, needing to be replaced immediately.

  Thankfully, she was well learned in sewing and embroidery. During the war, she and her friends had been forced to learn to make dresses and other necessary garments, often from reclaimed fabrics.

  The thought of Charleston immediately made her take a deep staggered breath. No, she mustn’t cry. Her eyes were probably dreadfully swollen, and her face blotchy from crying the day before.

  At the thought, she jumped to her feet and hurried to the washbasin. There were cloths hanging on both sides of the stand. Taking one, she dunked it into the water and pressed the cool wet cloth over her eyes.

  Finally washed up and having brushed her tangled tresses into submission, Ruby felt decent enough to be seen. She’d take a proper bath later that day and ensure to be presentable for the evening meal. At the thought, she stopped just outside the doorway.

  “Evening meal,” she said aloud to the empty hall. What exactly would she and her husband do about meals and such. Not only was there a raging storm outside, by the sounds of the howling wind, but she had absolutely very little knowledge of how to cook. Even during wartime, the family cook and several servants had remained with her family. Meals had always been served, and the house maintained to her mother’s strict standards. She’d never thought to find out how and where the food was acquired.

  The fire in the front room hearth was already fully going. There was no one about but the aroma of food wafted in the air. She followed the smell of what seemed to be bread and perhaps some sort of meat.

  On the far side of the main room was a dining table. From there a doorway lead into a separate room. The kitchen, like the rest of the house was tidy as a button with each item placed neatly in its place. There was a pot on the stove, its contents producing steam and the aroma that had brought her there.

  After picking up a cloth, she lifted the lid to find beans and ham bubbling in water. Next to it was a plate that was covered with a cloth napkin. Under the cloth was a portion of meat, sliced potatoes, and a slice of bread.

  Not exactly the breakfast she was accustomed to, but she was famished and could not think of a single reason not to eat every bit of it. Except…what if it was Trevor’s meal.

  She let out a sigh, deciding it was best to find out before devouring the meal. It took a lot of willpower to cover the warm meal again and step back. So much so that she let out a whimper of sadness.

  Back in the main room, two things got her attention. A note on the dining table and the clock on the mantel.

  The first jolted her to gasp. The clock’s hands were on twelve and two. The smaller one most definitely without any doubt on the two. How was it possible? Surely the clock had not been wound.

  She turned to the other item. It was a note from Trever wishing her a good afternoon and informing her that he’d be at the clinic until at least supper time.

  “Good heavens.” Hand on her chest, she gasped at how inappropriate her actions were. It was the day after her marriage and she’d yet to have a proper conversation with her husband, practically sleeping the entire day away.

  A most unladylike rumble rose from her stomach, reminding her how long it had been since she’d had a proper meal. It would be best to eat and drink tea while pondering what to do next.

  The meal was simple but she dubbed it the best meal she’d ever had. The meat was tender, the potatoes perfectly cooked, and once she toasted the bread, it was most delicious too.

  Upon sipping the last of the tea, Ruby felt almost herself again. A look through the windows showed no change in the weather, or the scenery. There was barely an outline of buildings. Since she had no idea where her husband’s clinic was, she had no reason to attempt to venture out. Ruby decided it was best to see about what needed to be done to prepare for her husband’s return that evening.

  There was the much-dreaded conversation to get over with. Then, of course, the business of the consummation, which sent her heart to racing. How could two strangers be intimate without it being awkward and uncomfortable? She’d often wondered about it since accepting Trevor’s proposal. Many a young woman was matched and married off within months in Charleston. Even though these young woman had not known their husbands for long before being spirited off to the marriage bed, at least they’d had a few months to become acquainted.

  The entire business of the consummation with a stranger was barbaric in her opinion. The intimacy that took place between a man and a woman should be between two people who deeply cared for one another.

  There was no use in lingering on the thoughts, it wasn’t as if it would c
hange anything.

  Once she washed her plate and cup, Ruby set about exploring her new home. From the kitchen, she passed the dining table and four chairs. There was a sideboard along the wall. A few feet from the table was a sofa that faced the fireplace, then closer to the hearth were two comfortable stuffed chairs. On each side of the chairs were arm height slender tables, just big enough for a lantern and a cup. Obviously, it was the perfect place to read or entertain company. Along the wall to the right of the front door was another table, probably for items such as gloves. Next to it was a wooden coat and hat rack.

  Every single surface, except for the mantel which had a clock, was devoid of any type of article.

  Wanting to see the rest of the house, Ruby made her way down the short hallway. The first room on the right was small and sparsely furnished with only a single bed and a washbasin stand. It didn’t look as if anyone had slept in the bed. Then again, given the tidiness of the man, he was probably the type to make it upon rising.

  There was only a small table in the second bedroom on the right. Across the hall from the room was the largest bedroom, where she’d slept in. This would be the one she’d share with Trevor.

  Ruby went in to gather a clean dress and underclothes. If she hurried, perhaps she could bathe and be dressed before her husband returned.

  However, she had no idea where to find a tub or draw water from. She peered from the kitchen window but saw only a wooden structure with chickens inside. From the front windows, all she could make out was snow.

  “No need, I can make do.” She took water from all the pitchers and filled a pot that she then hung from the hook over the hearth. Once it was warmed enough, she washed her body as best she could.

  At half past six, Ruby was about to go mad from being alone without any type of conversation. There was little to do after unpacking her small trunk and doing what she could to clean her travel attire. She’d spent time by the fire untangling her thick curls properly and finally braiding it into a simple French braid.