Sam led them through the front door into a good-sized sitting room with a good many rugs on the floor. The rugs were in need of washing and the observation caused conflicting emotions to war in Ruth’s head. First was a satisfaction that she could do better than the previous housekeeper, thereby earning her place. Then came a fear that the dirt had collected only since her departure and that Beth Ann had left partly because of an impossible workload. Then relief that Caroline would help and then worry that Sam would think Caroline was doing all the work. And she chided herself for the foolishness of thinking two grown women couldn’t handle one household.
The reactions came and went faster than her feet carried her through the room. But a similarly confusing barrage hit her as she entered the kitchen. She was excited about the larger workspace and frightened by the unfamiliar-looking stove and appreciative of the variety of pans and terrified by the idea of cooking something Sam wouldn’t like. The most overwhelming sensation though came when he took her hand in his and asked, “Will you be able to manage meals here?”
His rough hand gave a gentle squeeze before he let go again. The gesture was intended only to get her attention. And it definitely succeeded! A tingle shot up her arm and set off a new kind of warmth in her body, intensified by the realization that Caroline wasn’t the only one he wanted to approve of the home.
Ruth nodded slowly. “I… or we…” She glanced at Caroline. “We’ll need some time to adjust.”
“And those won’t be… uncomfortable adjustments?” Sam looked uncertainly between the two women.
“No.” Ruth shook her head emphatically. “I meant to warn you that I might make mistakes while learning the new kitchen. For me everything will be happy adjustments.”
“Exciting adjustments,” Caroline added, with a playful nudge to Ruth’s ribs.
“Uh… adventurous adjustments,” Ruth said.
“Wonderful adjustments.”
Ruth looked at Caroline and the women were grinning at each other. “Fun adjustments,” she said. They were really and truly starting a new life in Texas.
“I get it,” Sam said. He appeared gratified by their smiles. “Come on.”
He showed them a washroom and a small study that used to be Jonas’s office and that he and Jack now shared. Then he took them up the stairs.
“Jack’s room is first,” Sam said as he pointed. “Caroline, you’ll be at the far end of the hall and the room right next to you will be empty.”
Ruth had been great with her numbers in school but even if she hadn’t, she’d have figured out that there was one bedroom Sam didn’t mention and two people who would sleep there. Nighttime was hours away though and Ruth wasn’t going to let her thoughts jump ahead. Sam wasn’t thinking about that. While Caroline was smoothing the sheets on her new bed and Ruth was trying not to picture a similarly narrow bed two doors away, Sam was staring out a window after his own thoughts.
“I’ve been away too long,” he said. “I’m itchin’ to get back on one of my own horses.” He turned away from the window. “I’ll leave you to settle in. Don’t worry about a noon meal. I’ll take something out with me. And Jack, too. Ring the bell outside the kitchen when supper’s ready. Before it’s ready, just enough to give us time to wash up.” Sam looked at the women uncertainly, as though he was waiting to be dismissed.
Caroline rushed up and gave him a quick hug. “Don’t worry about a thing,” she said. “We’ll find our way around and find a way to feed you.”
“I’m sure you will.” Sam’s boots thumped down the stairs almost before the words had left his mouth.
Ruth stayed put, still just outside Caroline’s bedroom, not sure what to do with herself. She looked to her friend for an idea.
Caroline was smiling almost smugly. “All those times I told you a man was going to come and whisk you away and you never really believed me.”
“True,” Ruth admitted. “But it hasn’t happened exactly like any of your stories.”
“Also true.” Caroline put her arms over her head in a stretch. “I’m not sure I even closed my eyes last night. Would you mind if I lay down for a spell?”
“No. You go ahead.” Ruth hadn’t slept either but she wasn’t tired.
“Wake me if you need anything. Anything at all.”
“Get some sleep,” Ruth said as she pulled Caroline’s door closed.
She worked over her bottom lip with her teeth as she wondered what to do with herself. Her feet had moved a few paces so that her hand was on the knob to Sam’s bedroom while she continued to wonder what to do with herself. The door was slightly ajar and she pushed it open further, still unsure of her plan. She recognized Sam’s bag on the floor next to hers. She walked over and knelt in front of the bags. Her hand grasped a flap but did not open it. A glance over her shoulder confirmed that she had closed the door.
Ruth wanted privacy as her hand caressed the coarse fabric. This wasn’t just Sam’s bag, it was her husband’s bag. It was her place to see what might need washing or simply to be picked up. His housekeeper would have likely done the same, but lifting the flap still felt intimate. Maybe that was because everything was so new to her or maybe it was because of how strongly she had come to care for Sam in only a few days. It had been a few days of intense planning followed by constant closeness. Ruth tried to think practically and not be any more sentimental than she would have been about getting her pa’s things in order.
Her own belongings fit in one drawer. The last thing she placed in the drawer was her mother’s old bible. The cover was worn and she knew that pressed somewhere in its pages were two tiny yellow flowers. They were mementos from the day her parents were wed.
Ruth had intended to save flowers from her wedding to put with those yellow ones. She had picked flowers almost entirely for that purpose and now she couldn’t remember what happened to them. She couldn’t even remember if she was still holding them when she got to the church. It had happened so fast the only thing she remembered with clarity was the kiss, her first real kiss. There had been something in the moment afterward that made her hope Sam could see her as a true wife, and not simply the woman he agreed to marry in order to make amends with his sister.
Ruth rested her hand on the bible and said a prayer for her marriage before she closed the drawer. Satisfied that the room was tidy, she went to find another way to be useful. She was outside beating dust from the sitting room rugs when Caroline joined her and began to help.
“How did you find the bed?” Ruth asked.
“Can’t say much for my old one, but that was still the most comfortable rest I’ve had in some time.”
“Did you think the house would be so big?”
“Sam described it well,” Caroline said, looking thoughtful. “I knew it’d be easier with help.” She paused to let her eyes scan the horizon. “Texas. I thought I’d live my whole life in Kansas.”
Ruth nodded. Caroline had certainly brought her on an unexpected adventure.
They had just begun to gather the now cleaner rugs when Caroline muttered, “Oh, dear.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve thought of a flaw in my success. I’ll need a new heroine.”
“For your stories?”
“Yes. It wouldn’t be proper for me to describe a man running off with you now that you’re married.”
“I suppose not,” Ruth conceded, though she didn’t believe Caroline’s stories were particularly proper in the past anyway. Injuries far too often necessitated the removal of clothing. Ruth chanced an observation. “You’re not married.”
“And I don’t plan to be. I prefer stories that might actually happen.” She winked at Ruth, who got a good laugh.
Ruth thought her friend getting married again was much less far-fetched than most of her wild tales. (Two weeks ago, she would have said all the wild tales.) Caroline had married young to get out of her father’s house and ended up with a man who was as indifferent to his wife as he was to his marriage
vows. A woman so hopelessly romantic deserved better.
“I think I will need to invent a heroine,” Caroline said. “A young orphan perhaps. I’ll need to think on the best way to have her land here to be looked after.” She seemed to be studying the cracks in the dirt for inspiration.
“What do you think of Jack?” Ruth asked, trying to pretend mentioning him didn’t have anything to do with what they’d been discussing.
“Sam has nothing but praise for the man and I trust my brother’s judgment.”
“I meant to ask what you think of him.”
“Oh, heavens!” She flung a few rugs over her shoulder and stomped up the porch steps. “I’ve barely met the man. I haven’t had time to think anything about him.”
Ruth followed her into the house without pressing the subject. She’d clearly struck a nerve. They spent some more time working on the sitting area and the rest of the afternoon taking stock of the food stores and the other household supplies.
By the time they were peeling potatoes for dinner, Caroline had decided on a dark-haired orphan a year or two from marrying age so she could also invent stories of taking her to parties and protecting her from undesirable suitors. The heroine’s name had not been fixed but more important details were easily settled. Her father was going to die tragically in front of Caroline, who would try to comfort the girl by offering her a home. She had never known her mother and Caroline would do her best to fill that void in the girl’s life.
Caroline rather suddenly felt the need to count plants in the garden when she described this relationship. In that moment, her longing for a child was tangible in the room. Ruth didn’t blame her for wanting to run from it. Almost as soon as the front door closed, the back door opened and Sam appeared in the kitchen.
“I could smell the supper outside,” he said. “Can hardly wait to eat it.”
Ruth looked up from the pan. There was something natural and wonderful about the scene, Sam coming in to enjoy her cooking. It was an experience she already knew she would love to repeat over and over.
He seemed suddenly unsettled though and took a small step backwards. “You haven’t rung the bell.”
Ruth checked her potatoes. Truth be told, she should have rung the bell a few minutes ago but had gotten caught up in Caroline’s fictional world. “I meant to,” she said. “It’s almost ready.”
Sam grabbed his hat from a hook by the door and twisted it in his hands. “My pa would have come in ranting and raving about the food not being on the table, even if he’d asked to be given notice. I know that’s not right.”
“Come sit down,” Ruth suggested.
A smile slowly spread over his face, giving him an unexpectedly mischievous look. He shook his head and said, “No, I think… I think I best go back out until you’re ready for me.”
“But I am ready.” Ruth picked up a towel and moved a pan off the heat to prove her point.
“I’ll wait for you,” he said as he slipped back outside.
Ruth didn’t know what was going through his head but she took the opportunity to catch up. She quickly put four plates on the table and gave the pot of beans a stir. Then she opened the door and found Sam only a few paces from it. He’d either been walking very slowly or waited until he heard her coming. She threw a puzzled look at his back.
Sam stopped as though he felt it and turned to face her.
“Are you going to come in for supper?” Ruth asked.
He glanced at the bell hanging by the door and then raised his eyebrows at her expectantly.
Ruth stared at him. He wanted her to ring the bell even though he was standing right there?
Sam’s shoulders slumped slightly as he walked a few steps towards the barn before he turned again and eyed the bell hopefully.
She wasn’t sure why it was funny but Ruth couldn’t stop herself from busting out laughing. That made Sam relax as though that was what he was looking for the whole time. Then he simply stood there with his arms folded, waiting.
Ruth reached over and gave the bell two quick clangs. Jack would need to know it was time to eat as well. Sam said, “I think we’re doing this right now,” as he followed her into the house.
Spoons had been added to the table and Caroline was bringing over some tin cups. She watched Sam and Ruth enter with a knowing look in her eyes that brought heat to Ruth’s face. If it was that obvious to Caroline, surely Sam could also tell that she’d gone back on their plan for a nice, practical marriage. Then again, perhaps he’d think she was imaging things. They both knew Caroline was good at that.
Jack came in just in time to say grace and Ruth’s new family was complete. The meal was quiet. It may have been the newness on the others’ minds. The only thing occupying Ruth’s thoughts was how quickly she could wash the dishes and get herself upstairs. She didn’t know Sam’s habits and she wanted to at least get changed into her nightdress before he was ready to turn in.
Caroline cooperated by offering to finish by herself. She said she thought Ruth looked tired but once she was alone, it occurred to Ruth that her friend might have had some idea of her anxiety. Caroline had been a bride once, too.
The white nightdress was neatly folded on the end of the bed. Ruth looked at it for a moment and then changed her clothes faster even than the time her pa had told her Santa couldn’t come until she was asleep. The last few years, Ruth had shared a bed with one and then two little sisters. It was the only bed and the only room in which she could remember sleeping. Her heart raced as she lifted the quilt to climb into Sam’s bed. She squished so close to the wall that her nose nearly touched it and the top of the quilt rested on the bottom of her ear. She quietly said her nightly prayers while she told herself that she was not listening for footsteps on the stairs.
~~ ~~
Sam sat on the porch and watched the darkness thickening over his land. There were a few lights on in the bunkhouse. Red was likely defending his latest meal. He had cooked for the men nearly as long as Sam had been on the ranch. If history was a guide, the streak of changing up his recipes was going to end soon. He hoped there would be a less dramatic end than the last time, when Zachariah had threatened to use a hot branding iron on Red if he did not immediately put down the sugar.
The air smelled vaguely of rain. Sam was tempted to stay out and watch for it but the scent forced a feeling of drowsiness over him. The house was quiet when he entered as everyone else had gone to bed. He needed to do the same. The familiar creaks on the stairs welcomed him home while his mind recounted parts of the journey, particularly talking with Ruth while Caroline slept.
He knew he was a lucky man to have such a lovely and capable person agree to be his wife. He had to admit though that he was feeling something for her that went beyond good fortune. His mind hadn’t been entirely on his work that afternoon and it was so natural to find her making supper in his kitchen. And now she was in his bedroom. Waiting. Expecting. Dreading?
Sam sank to sit on the top step and put his hands on his head as all the thoughts he’d been trying not to have came crashing in at once. They all centered around one idea. He was still an incredibly selfish man.
Ten years ago, he’d abandoned his sisters. He’d made noble promises about coming back for them when he’d made his way. But the plain fact was that he couldn’t stand to live in that house another day. He thought he’d changed, matured. Here he was putting his own wants first. He wanted to bring Caroline home with him. He’d taken advantage of Ruth to make it happen. When he took her hand at the wedding, she’d flinched so badly she dropped her flowers. And he’d let her go through with it anyway.
He squirmed to think how lightly he’d been treating such a significant event. He’d thanked Caroline for saving him from having to request a bride through the mail. He’d made a joke of not knowing how to treat a wife. He’d joked about children and… That wasn’t funny to the woman who’d shackled herself to him. A marriage couldn’t be undone. Ruth was stuck with him.
Sam
worked to shake off the defeatist attitude. There was one selfish thing he would not do. He may have made promises he didn’t know how to keep but that didn’t mean he had to break them. It meant he needed to start figuring out how to be a husband that Ruth would not regret. And it was not going to take him ten years to do it.
The door to his room opened with a predictable, though suddenly alarming, squeak. He shut it behind himself as quickly as possible. There was a still mound in the bed that he tried not to notice as he reached underneath to pull out a bedroll. He spread that on the far side of the room and only slipped his suspenders off his shoulders before he lay down. The pattern of Ruth’s breathing did not sound like that of a sleeping person. He convinced himself that it was not cowardly to avoid a conversation if he didn’t know what to say.
It was still dark when he opened his eyes, hoping the blasted rooster wasn’t going to wake Ruth before he could get clean clothes and get out of the room. That wasn’t cowardly either. She was tired. He hadn’t slept well either. Something of an epiphany had come to him while he was waiting for sleep though. He didn’t have to know what women liked. He only had to know what Ruth liked. It was good that he’d been paying attention.
Sam did some chores in the barn and then came in for breakfast. Jack was already sopping up some eggs with a piece of toast. Caroline was offering him some more eggs and Ruth was slicing bread. Sam greeted the room at large and then put his hand lightly on the small of Ruth’s back as he said, “Good morning,” specifically to her.
She looked momentarily startled before she said the same and offered him a plate. Caroline beamed at the pair of them and that was the point. It was important to Ruth that Caroline believed she had a happy marriage. Sam wasn’t putting on a false show; he was being intentionally obvious about his contentment with the match.
He sat across from Jack, who Sam knew was not a person to dawdle over a meal, but who had already inhaled a second plate of eggs and was standing up while still pushing toast into his mouth. He managed a surprisingly polite, “Thank you, Miss,” to Caroline before he ran out the back door so fast someone might have been pushing him.
A Quiet Life Page 16