Ruby (Angel Creek Christmas Brides Book 3)

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Ruby (Angel Creek Christmas Brides Book 3) Page 5

by Hildie McQueen


  There were two jars of some sort of jam in the cupboard. She’d keep that in mind for the morning.

  After inspecting the larder, she went back into the kitchen and set the kettle atop the stove to make tea.

  Trevor was shocked by the aromas coming from the kitchen. Whatever Ruby did seemed to be progressing well. As much as he wanted to check on her progress, he remained sitting at the table reading over notes he’d scribbled onto the margins of each page of the medical book he held.

  “Supper is about ready,” Ruby announced, placing silverware on the table. She set two places on the opposite end from where he worked.

  A few moments later, she emerged with a covered plate that she placed on the table. Next she returned with a bowl that she placed in front of him, and again a few seconds later with a second. She then sat down and looked to him with expectation.

  He got up and went to sit at the end of the table. She was on his left.

  “I’ll say grace,” Ruby said in a quiet voice and proceeded to give thanks for their meal. As always, the sound of her southern lilt was soothing. There wasn’t a hint of anger or aggravation, but then again she wasn’t mad at the Lord.

  Chapter Six

  The snow finally stopped falling the following day. However, it didn’t mean they could hope to go out any time soon. Trevor had yet to understand what had changed with Ruby.

  Since the day she’d gotten angry with him, Ruby insisted he not enter the kitchen when she cooked and almost each time since had come up with a flavorful meal. He heard her humming while cooking, seeming to enjoy the time alone more than with him.

  They’d not been intimate since the day she’d cried. Their lack of intimacy was due in part to the fact she’d had her monthly courses. He wasn’t sure how to approach the subject of whether they’d ended. Besides, although she seemed content enough, they’d not discussed why she’d become so furious with him.

  Now he was in the bedroom finding things to keep himself occupied. He’d just finished arranging his clothes when Ruby walked in. “Once my trunks arrive from back east, I will require a wardrobe of my own.”

  It had not occurred to him that she’d have more items coming. “As soon the weather allows, we will visit Frank Rutherford. He’s the local furniture maker.”

  She looked at his wardrobe and frowned, seeming to find it lacking. “Did he make this one?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “I hope he will take direction when I ask that he spend a bit more time on mine.” She shook her head and grimaced. “I’m sure your wardrobe suits your purposes, however, I would like something more feminine if possible.”

  Trevor couldn’t picture the rugged carpenter making anything that wasn’t a basic piece of furniture. “I’m sure he’ll listen to what you have to say.”

  When his wife lingered, he waited for whatever she wanted to discuss. Finally she let out a sigh. “How long before you think it will be possible for me to visit my friends. It’s the longest I’ve ever gone without speaking to them. I miss them terribly.”

  “A week perhaps. Hopefully the snow will melt some soon.”

  She nodded. “I hope so. I’d like to visit the mercantile as well. If I had fabric, thread or such, I could begin to make proper curtains and embroider doilies for the table surfaces.”

  Although Trevor wasn’t entirely sure what a doily was, he grinned at her. “I have something that will please you then.” He hurried out of the bedroom to the empty room.

  In a rustic trunk that set against one wall, he’d stored fabric and other items he’d purchased or had been given to him. “I keep things in here, I’m not sure what to do with,” Trevor explained.

  “My goodness, I’d not noticed that trunk before.”

  Upon opening it, he lifted a stack of fabrics that he’d purchased one day thinking he’d use it to make curtains. However, over time he’d forgotten about it and once the current cloths were nailed in place, he didn’t see a need for anything else.

  “Oh,” Ruby exclaimed taking the fabric from him. “There may be enough here to make curtains for all of the windows and some left over for doilies and perhaps a pillow or two.”

  Turning on her heel, she disappeared through the doorway. He looked down at the trunk and drew out a small basket filled with items the mercantile owner’s wife had given him, insisting they were necessary to sew with.

  A week later, most of the windows had curtains. Trevor had to admit they added a degree of homeliness to the house, and he liked the addition of the doily on one table so far. Ruby informed him she still planned to make several more and he was glad she had something to do to pass the time.

  The snow remained waist high, but it was quickly lowering and he was glad to finally be able to make his way to the clinic. The day before, he’d finished shoveling a path from his back door to the front of the clinic.

  It was strangely silent as Trevor made his way to the clinic. Once inside he let out a breath. The clinic was like a small second home, a place where he could be of use to the town.

  Everything was as he’d left it, each item in it’s place. The clinic smelled a bit stale from the lack of fresh air, so he opened the windows to air out the space until he began to shiver. Finally after once again ensuring all was well, he returned to the house.

  She looked up from her sewing when he neared. “Would you like to see the clinic?”

  Ruby was excited at the prospect of leaving the house and it’s overly familiar walls. It took but a few moments to don her cloak and gloves. She hurried to ensure it wouldn’t start snowing again and keep them from venturing out. While she buttoned up her cloak and wrapped a thick scarf around her neck, Trevor waited patiently for her, his gaze never leaving her.

  He was an attentive husband, she had to admit. Although he remained a stickler for perfection in routine tasks, she’d managed to keep away from having to do anything with him that would require any kind of instruction.

  Several times she’d noticed items moved and sat differently after she’d finished cleaning or cooking, and it was annoying. However, she decided it would be best to wait before talking to him about it. Once they began a normal day-to-day existence and became comfortable around each other, she’d broach the subject of his need for everything to be just so.

  They made their way down the shoveled path he’d made to the clinic. The temperature remained quite frigid, however the sun shined brightly and would hopefully begin to melt the snow.

  They entered the clinic and she was not surprised to find it to be impeccable and orderly.

  The space was well appointed. There was an elevated slender bed with a tall table next to it. On the table were a lantern and medical instruments of different sizes. She went from the foot of the bed to the shelves upon which a collection of jars were lined up in alphabetical order. Each had a label with the name of the contents written in neat handwriting. It occurred to Ruby she didn’t know Trevor’s handwriting at all.

  “It’s not what I imagined,” Ruby said, her fingers running along the front of the jars. “I suppose I’ve never been to an actual clinic. Our doctor always came to our home when necessary.”

  Trevor motioned to another cabinet. The tall slender wooden cabinet had dozens of small drawers, each one precisely labeled as well. “I keep other drugs here.”

  His broad shoulders relaxed, he strode to a side table with ominous looking instruments atop. “These items are what I use most when treating gunshot wounds. They are washed daily.”

  Not wishing to picture what some were used for exactly, Ruby shuddered and turned away to a corner of the room. This portion of the space was totally different than any space she’d yet to see.

  On a round table were a framed picture of a young man, a ledger, ink and a quill. There was also a vase, and several containers with various items. A carved box took her attention and she opened it to find beads, some carved items and a watch. In a basket next to it, there were other similar items. It was a rather s
trange collection of items.

  “What is all this?” Ruby asked when Trevor came to stand next to her.

  He picked up a leather cord from which a crucifix had been strung. “Each of these things has a story. They were either given to me in lieu of payment or came from people that didn’t survive their visit to the clinic. Most items are buried with the person but every so often something gets either left behind or is given to me by a surviving relative as a memento of sorts.”

  She continued to survey the contents of the box and basket as he told her some of the stories. Some were eerie, others touching, and some were even comical. It seemed Trevor was rather well liked and respected by the local community and even had a relationship with Indian healers whom he traded for herbs and such with.

  Chapter Seven

  Days later, the snow had finally fallen to a manageable level and for that Ruby was more than grateful. She’d been able to see her friends, ever so briefly and enjoyed visiting the town mercantile, where she’d bought items not only for her, but mostly for the house. Although not quite what she planned, upon entering the front room, she was satisfied with the more inviting atmosphere.

  She’d not quite adjusted to a schedule. However, there was very little time for idleness. Between cooking, caring for the chickens, mending and other duties, Ruby was content that her days were full.

  Trevor spent most of his days at the clinic since now that it was possible to travel, people made their way to the clinic. Most days, his assistant Hank came to their home for the midday meal and she enjoyed getting to know the young man.

  This particular day, a restlessness came upon her and Ruby wasn’t sure what to make of it. She’d planned to see about Anna later that week, and discuss with Mrs. Weston, the mercantile owner, about starting a quilting group.

  Unsettled, she peered out the kitchen window to the desolate snow covered road. Not a soul although, according to Trevor, the temperature was warmer. To the left she spied a lone rider heading down the center of the road. Ruby shivered considering how cold the man must be. Probably chilled to the bone. Once man and horse came closer, she noticed he wore a uniform.

  A cavalry man no doubt. When the man got to the clinic, he dismounted and went inside. Moments later Hank emerged and took the horse back down the road, probably to the stables.

  Only an injured or ill man would ride out in the cold, Ruby figured. Her heart when out to him if he came because someone in his family required medical attention. Deciding the soldier must be famished, Ruby decided to feed the stranger, who’d no doubt traveled a long way in the cold weather.

  After sliding the pot of leftover stew onto the stovetop, she hurried off to gather her cloak and whatever else was needed to venture outside.

  The men looked up in unison as she entered the clinic with a basket. She smiled tentatively at Trevor before turning to the soldier who looked more haggard than ill. “I thought you’d like something to eat. I bet you’re hungry.”

  The man’s eyes brightened. “Yes, thank you ma’am. I certainly am.”

  Trevor nodded in approval and took the basket from her. “This is very kind of you dear.”

  Dear? He’d never used a term of endearment before. Ruby flushed and hoped her cheeks didn’t color too brightly. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  “I must speak to you,” Trevor said, his expression stern once again. She waited as he put his jacket and scarf on and then together they walked back to their house.

  Once inside, Trevor waited for her to remove her cloak, but didn’t remove his as he’d probably return to the clinic promptly, Ruby surmised.

  “What is it? You’re making me nervous?” She searched his face for a clue as to what news the soldier could have brought.

  “There seems to be an outbreak of the ague at his camp, which is not too far from here. There is a small army outpost that I go to several times during the year to help treat any ailments the soldiers may have. During the winter, they usually load up a wagon with ill soldiers and come here instead.

  However, the soldier at the clinic just informed me there are too many to bring and one man in particular has been injured and in too delicate a condition to travel.”

  “You-you’re going out there now? In these conditions?” Ruby wasn’t sure what to think. On one hand she understood why Trevor was summoned, on the other, this was putting her own husband in danger of not only contracting whatever ailed the men, but also the weather was not exactly conducive to traveling at the moment.

  “What if you contract this illness? I will be left alone.” She hated to sound so selfish, but truth be, she wasn’t about to lose her new husband.

  “It’s not contagious. Probably something lacking in what they’ve been eating,” he stated. “I will have to ask that you make bundles of herbs that I will be using to boil for them to drink once I arrive. Hank is going to the mercantile to pick up the necessary items.”

  Ruby tried to keep up as he rattled off several lists of items he required. Bundles of herbs had to be tied. Small seeping sacks filled with dried fruit peel. Bandages he kept in the spare bedroom that she’d help cut and roll while being snowbound had to be packed.

  By the time he left to return to the clinic, she was overwhelmed and could only remain standing next to the door as she tried to figure out what to do first.

  Her husband had not stated when he’d leave, and she hadn’t had the opportunity to ask.

  When someone knocked minutes later, she had her arms filled with bandages, so she called out for them to come in.

  Hank carrying two sacks of aromatic herbs entered, his cheeks flushed from the cold. “Mrs. Weston said to tell you there are several more sacks and to let her know if you require them.”

  “When is Doctor Collins planning to leave?”

  He seemed perplexed for a moment. “I believe tomorrow, ma’am.”

  “How far is this camp?”

  “A days ride. Not too far.”

  An entire day out in the weather. Ruby couldn’t fathom it. “On horseback? It is much too cold.”

  “He’ll be driving a wagon, ma’am.”

  “Oh yes well, he’ll still be exposed to the elements, won’t he?”

  Hank nodded and looked toward the kitchen. “May I have some stew?”

  While he ate, Ruby set about the task of making the bundles of herbs. Soon she became adept at it and worked quickly through each one, setting them in a large bowl. “I believe I will go with Trevor to assist.”

  “It will be harsh there, Missus Collins,” Hank informed her in between bites. “There are buildings, but they are not very hospitable. I don’t think you’d be comfortable.”

  Ruby jutted her chin. “My place is beside my husband.”

  The words sunk in and settled in the center of her chest. She believed it with all her heart and realized the restlessness from earlier was because a change was coming. She’d always had a sense about things, a sort of strong sensation or premonition of sorts when something of importance was about to happen.

  Ruby smiled at knowing she was about to embark on a second adventure. Perhaps like upon the arrival in Angel Creek, she’d wonder what overcame her, but at the moment a peace set in that made her let out a long breath.

  “Absolutely not,” Trever repeated over supper that night. Ruby stole a glance at the soldier who’d yet to stop spooning food into his mouth, and it was his second helping.

  Ruby glared at her husband. “I refuse to remain behind. It hasn’t been so long that I’ve forgotten my vows, which include remaining with you.”

  “I don’t remember that vow,” Trevor said, cutting into his meat.

  The soldier frowned. “Doc, she may be referring to the verse of sickness and health.” He scratched at the stubble on his cheek. “Or the part of better or worse.”

  “Thank you Corporal Scott,” Trever gritted. “An army camp is no place for a woman.”

  Ruby lifted a brow, which she supposed came from seeing her hus
band do it so often. “It is however, a place for a nurse.”

  The next day, Ruby clung to the side of the covered wagon as it bounced over the uneven snow covered road. She wasn’t quite sure what was worse. The unbearable cold or the infernal bouncing. Trevor drove the team of plow horses sitting on the front bench with Hank beside him. The soldier had ridden on ahead.

  He’d finally given in to her coming along, after a long list of demands meant to dissuade her. She was not to complain on the way there, she was not to interact with the men, and was keep to whatever quarters they were given as much as possible. She was only to linger with Cookie the sergeant in charge of meal preparation. Obviously, Cookie was the only man Trevor trusted at the army camp.

  Ruby glared at the back of her husband’s head. They’d waited a day before leaving to ensure all was packed and Ruby would be comfortable. She was. At first, engulfed in thick blankets she’d settled for a cozy ride, only to be tossed this way and that, unable to keep the blankets around her. Not only that, but they’d not stopped at all. If the bouncing continued, she’d wet herself and that would be mortifying. Then again, it would teach Trevor not to be so stubborn to arrive with everything in the back of the wagon smelling of urine.

  Ruby bit back a bark of laughter, but gave up and chuckled at her train of thoughts. Trever looked over his shoulder at her.

  “Are you laughing?”

  “Yes,” Ruby replied while giggling. “I’m about to urinate on everything.”

  The wagon came to an abrupt halt. Trevor climbed down and came around to the back. “Why didn’t you tell me to stop?”

  “Because.” She paused for effect. “You said not to bother you asking for stops.”

  “I didn’t mean we couldn’t stop at least once,” he grumbled. “We’re almost there now.”

 

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