Letter Perfect

by Cathy Marie Hake

  “Girl,” Hilda whispered, “that old man is up to no good.”

  Hic “I was afraid of that,” Ruth said in a miserable tone.

  “I got me an idea.”

  “What?”

  “How’s about you and me move out?”

  “Where to?”

  “Your daddy’s old place, that’s where. After breakfast, I’ll show it to you.”

  Ruth threw her arms around Hilda. “Oh, thank you!”

  “Now you go on back in there and pretend everything’s okay.”

  “Ruth?” McCain had come into the kitchen.

  Hic! Ruth closed her eyes in horror. So much for trying to hide or get away from him.

  “I’ve got her in the pantry,” Hilda called out as she reached for a canister. “Once I put a spoonful of sugar on her tongue, she’ll be cured of these hiccups.”

  “We have sugar on the table.” McCain stood in the doorway.

  “I didn’t know hic about this cure.”

  Hilda patted her shoulder. “Don’t you worry. If the sugar doesn’t work, I’ll have you hang your head over the sink and drink out of the far rim of a china cup.”

  “Thank you. Please, Mr. McCain, hic. Don’t let me keep you from your breakfast. I’ll feel hic dreadful, knowing I spoiled the meal.”

  “I’ll just have her stay with me here in the kitchen.” Hilda steered Ruth past him. “I’ll pull a chair right beside the stove. Could be that you need to breathe warmer air. I’ll still see to it she has a bite to eat. Don’t you fret, Mr. McCain.”

  “I’ve never in my life fretted.”

  “Good, then.” Hilda turned her back on him and grinned at Ruth. “You, young lady, hold your breath as long as you can.”

  McCain groused under his breath and went back into the dining room.

  Hilda grimaced. “That man’s harder to shake than a deadly fever.”

  “Can we send him to town to get something to treat my hiccups?”

  Hilda perked up. “You bet! Let me think … we’ve got plenty of sugar here.” A sly smile tilted the housekeeper’s mouth. “Marmalade. Orange marmalade. He won’t go if I ask him, though.”

  Ruth took a moment to gather up her nerve, then went to the doorway and timed opening the door just before her next hiccup. “Excuse me.”

  Josh and his father both rose.

  Ruth hiccupped again. Raising her hand to her mouth, she said, “I’m so sorry. Nothing’s stopping these. Hilda said may—hic—be orange marmalade would work.”

  Josh grimaced. “After going to town yesterday, I’m overloaded today.”

  Hic. She slumped against the doorjamb and tried her hardest to look pitiful. Hic.

  “Don’t you worry your pretty head, Ruthie. I’ll go.” McCain quickly shoveled in one last bite, then headed for the door.

  An hour later, Ruth, Laney, and Hilda stood on the doorstep of a nearby cottage. “I noticed this place, but I thought it was another bunkhouse or something,” Ruth said.

  Hilda opened the door. It creaked loudly. “The hinges need oil.”

  Laney peeked inside. “That’s not all this place needs. It’s filthy!”

  “A little dirt never killed nobody.” Hilda trundled on in.

  Ruth walked around and nodded. “All cleaned up, this will work beautifully. Hilda, which room would you like?”

  “That one on the east side’ll be good for me. Early mornin’ sun helps me wake up so’s I get breakfast on the stove. You take the bigger one.”

  “Wait a minute!” Laney wheeled around and grabbed Ruth’s hand. “You can’t move!”

  Ruth forced out a laugh. “Why do you think we came out here? Laney, I’ll be a stone’s throw away from you, and I’ll still come to the big house for meals.”

  “You can’t. Why, look!” She swung her arm in a wide arc. “You don’t have a stick of furniture in the place.”

  “You heard Mr. Farnsworth. My things should be arriving any day.” Ruth squeezed Laney’s hand. “Just think how much fun we’ll have decorating the place! I’ll expect you to come be my guest every other day.”

  Laney’s lower lip trembled as she repeated, “Every other day?”

  “Of course, silly! On the other days, I’ll come see you, or we’ll go visit the O’Sullivans!”

  “I don’t think Josh or Daddy are going to approve of this.”

  Hilda stood akimbo and gave Laney an exasperated look. “Child, if women waited for men to approve everything they did, the world would stop turning.”

  Ruth sneezed. “The dust is thick as sin in here. I think tomorrow, after church, I’m going to ask Mrs. O’Sullivan if Colin and one of his friends can come douse it ceiling-to-floor with buckets of water. After it dries, they can whitewash the whole place, inside and out.”

  “Now, that’s good thinkin’.” Hilda pursed her lips. “I confess, I always fancied yella houses. Think we could get tint for the paint so’s the outside looks cheery?”

  “Oh, yes!” Laney swept her hand toward the windows. “Imagine sunny yellow or green gingham curtains over there. The place will be bright and welcoming.”

  Getting Laney’s support proved easy; Ruth figured Josh would understand how she needed to get away from his father. She’d need his support trying to convince McCain, though. Supper was going to be a trial.

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Now, now.” McCain set down his coffee cup and cleared his throat. “Josh, there’s no cause for you to summarily dismiss Ruth’s idea.”

  Josh glowered across the table at her. “You’re staying here. There’s no good reason for you to up and move out.”

  Ruth gave him a maddening smile. “Thank you for your offer. I’ll be happy to remain here as long as we’re cleaning and preparing my father’s cabin.”

  “She’s going to ask Colin to bring a friend over,” Laney explained. “They’ll wash down everything and do the painting.”

  Hilda came out of the kitchen with a basket of rolls. “We have it all arranged, you know. Ruth’s furnishings are supposed to arrive any day now. She assures me we’ll have most everything we need.”

  Dad turned to Ruth. “I’d be happy to take you to town on Monday. I’m sure there are several little doodads you’ll want.”

  “That’s so kind of you.”

  “You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Josh snapped. “Everyone seems to be forgetting that somebody out there attacked Laney. It’s not safe for Ruth to be on her own.”

  “She’s not on her own. I’ll be with her.” Hilda propped her hands on her ample hips. “Not a soul will come near us without my approval.”

  That’s easy for her to say; she doesn’t know Dad’s the biggest danger around here. “I’m against this. You need to reconsider.”

  “Ruth is a mature young woman. I’m sure she’s put sufficient thought behind this decision.” Dad smiled at her. “I think you’ve proven yourself, dear. Josh is just in a bad mood. Has been all day.”

  “Did you have a bad day, Josh?”

  Ruth asked the question with such sincerity, he hated this whole mess even more. “I have a lot on my mind.” He stared at her, willing her to understand his concerns. “Making any move right now is ill-considered.”

  “Probably should have waited to spring this on him until tomorrow night,” Dad said to Ruth in a confidential tone. “Josh is always in a better mood on Sundays after he’s been at church. Give him a day to let the notion take root. You’re a patient woman, Ruth. Understanding, too. By the time that old place is cleaned, painted, and your furniture arrives, my son will accept the wisdom behind your decision.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Josh said. The rest of supper, he stewed over Ruth’s latest harebrained scheme. Sleep evaded him, and the next morning his hopes that Ruth would change her mind soared when she pulled him off into the parlor after breakfast.

  “I thought of something.”

  “Good. I’ll—”

  “I didn’t tell you what I thought of.”
Her brow furrowed, but the disgruntled expression he reckoned she aimed for didn’t work. With all of those darling little springy curls surrounding her face, she couldn’t look very peeved. She leaned closer.

  Josh fought the urge to pull her closer still and surprise her with a little kiss. “What did you think of, Ruthie?”

  “Tithe. I’ll need to sell a couple of those diamonds so I can pay my tithe. Would it be dreadful if I just slip a promissory note into the offering plate? I ought to have thought this out before now. God shouldn’t be kept waiting for His share. The only problem is, the left hand isn’t supposed to know about the right. If I use a note, then it won’t be a secret.”

  “Ruth, think. An attorney personally traveled across the nation to conduct business with you. You’ve been to the bank. If an enormous sum of money is tithed to the church, don’t you think everyone’s going to know you were the one who paid it?”

  “I’d hope not!” She looked utterly appalled.

  “Like it or not, folks are going to know.”

  “Well, then, I’ll just wait a week or two. Then, when the money is tithed, folks—” “Will still know it’s you.”

  “You’re not much help. You weren’t any help last evening, either.”

  “Don’t ask me to agree to your moving out. Of all the notions you’ve taken, that has to be the most insane one yet.”

  “Are we ready to go?” Laney singsonged from the stairs.

  The fire in Ruth’s eyes was at complete odds with her calm, sweet voice, “Of course we are, Laney. Is Hilda ready, too?”

  “I was ready an hour ago.”

  Ruth turned to leave the parlor, but her skirts hit the piano and swung in the opposite direction. Josh couldn’t be sure, but he thought that beneath all those yards of fabric, she intentionally kicked the piano before departing.

  When they arrived at church, Daryl Farnsworth approached the buckboard. “Good morning, everyone.”

  “Oh, Mr. Farnsworth!” Laney’s voice sounded all bubbly. “You’re still in town!”

  “Indeed, I am. I decided to prolong my stay a short while. It would be a pity to travel all this way and not look around a bit.”

  “You simply must come to lunch,” Laney said.

  “I wouldn’t want to be an imposition.”

  “I’m cookin’ gracious plenty,” Hilda said as Josh helped her down.

  Josh helped Ruth down. She started to wander off, but he snagged her arms and pulled her back. He didn’t want her asking Colin O’Sullivan to come do any cleaning and painting.

  “Is something amiss?”

  “No.” Inspiration struck. Josh murmured, “You could ask Farnsworth to be your agent. He could go to Sacramento or San Francisco and sell a few diamonds.”

  “What a wonderful idea!” She barely took a breath before she tacked on, “Why, I could ask him to purchase some tint for the paint. Hilda wants our new house to be yellow, and Lester doesn’t stock such things in his mercantile.”

  “A new house?” Farnsworth asked as he escorted Laney around the buckboard. “I didn’t know you intended to invest in property, Miss Caldwell.”

  “Oh, it was my father’s old house.”

  “I think we’d be better off thinking about our heavenly Father and getting into His house.” Josh offered his arm to Ruth.

  Frank Hutton preached. “I’ll be speaking from John 14:2: ‘In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.”’

  Josh sat in the pew and resisted the urge to turn to Ruth and give her an I-told-you-so look. She’s sensible enough to realize those words straight from Christ’s mouth and read today from the Bible are especially aimed at her situation. He settled in and appreciated the whole sermon.

  Immediately following the sermon, Josh excused himself. He pulled Rick Maltby to the side. “I hate to do business on the Lord’s Day, but it’s difficult for me to come to town without making up ridiculous excuses. I have Alan Caldwell’s cigarette case. Dad used to roll cigarettes for Alan. I’m wondering—and I know this sounds crazy—but I’m wondering if Dad used arsenic in them. Can you have it tested?”

  Maltby nodded curtly. “I’ll talk with Doc. If he can’t do it, he’ll know who can. Be careful, Josh. If you’re right, your father has resorted to murder once already.”

  “I know.”

  After supper that night, Ruth went out onto the back veranda. Josh followed her, thinking it was only fair that he speak to her privately. After all, he didn’t want to gloat over the fact that she’d come around to his way of thinking and was going to decide to remain in this house.

  “I hoped you’d come outside.” She smiled at him.

  He motioned toward the wicker furniture. “We can converse out here.”

  She still wore her Sunday-best dress—a stunningly beautiful pale green dress with darker green bows which held up swags every so often on the skirts. It looked fresh and airy and made her eyes shimmer like emeralds. As soon as she confessed her change of heart, he’d tell her just how beautiful she was.

  “Today’s sermon seemed particularly apropos, didn’t you think?” She folded her hands in her lap as she asked.

  “Yes, I thought that exact same thing.”

  “Good, then. So we’re no longer at odds.”

  He smiled. “The difference of opinions did cause some strain. I’m glad you came around.”

  “I came around?” She shook her head so savagely, pins popped out and pinged on the wooden planks all around her. “No, Josh. I didn’t. You were supposed to. Didn’t you listen? The verse said—”

  “In my father’s house.” He glowered at her.

  She had the nerve to glare straight back. “In my father’s house.” She patted her bosom so hard, it made a thumping sound as she continued, “are many mansions. There’s no mistaking the implications. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’m meant to move to the cabin where my father and mother once lived together.”

  McCain came outside. “Of course you are, Ruth. I don’t doubt it one bit. Josh, you’re not bullying the girl, are you?”

  “Bully her?” He snorted. “I’ve never met a more obstinate woman.” One look at Ruth’s white knuckles told Josh she wasn’t going to give an inch. He growled, “I’m going to check on the foals.”

  By Friday Ruth could hardly contain herself. Colin O’Sullivan had rounded up two friends, and the trio came over all week long to sluice out, scrub down, and whitewash the cabin. Farnsworth brought back the yellow tint that now adorned the exterior of her new place.

  “You boys have worked wonders!” she exclaimed, watching as they finished the last few strokes of a buttery yellow paint on the walls.

  “It’s a grand little home,” Colin declared. “Built solid as the day is long.”

  “Thanks to the hard work you young men have done, it’s pretty as any bungalow or cottage back East.”

  Reminding herself of the dress she’d ruined while painting the bedchamber back in the big house, Ruth forced herself to keep a distance from the walls. “The red camellias I planted by the other house are so pretty, I think I ought to special order some for this place, too. Maybe not red. Pink. Yes, pink.”

  “Ma sure loves the ones you gave to her,” Colin said. “She about boxed Dale’s ears the other day when he ran full tilt into one of them.”

  “I’m sure she didn’t. Your mama is the most even-tempered woman I’ve ever met.”

  “You wouldn’t think so, if you saw her. Da gave her a gift—a beautiful gold ring. Every time she looks down, she starts to cryin’ again. Galen teased her and said if she’d stand out in the garden and keep looking at her hand, we’d never have to carry a drop of water to irrigate the plot again.”

  Felipe sauntered up. His chaps made an odd flapping noise as he walked, and his spurs jangled. “Miss Ruth, two big wagons drove up. The driver asked for you.”

  “Oh, my things! Could you please ask them to drive over her
e?”

  “Best not, miss. Them big freight wagons’ll kick up a might amount of dust. It’ll stick to the paint.”

  Ruth thought for a moment. “I know! I’ll invite them to lunch. I’ll have to ask Hilda first, of course. But by the time the men are done eating, the paint ought to be dry.”

  Felipe gave her a wry look. “Boss said you had a knack for cookin’ up big plans.”

  Ruth laughed. “He should be glad it’s plans I cook up. If he’d ever tasted my cooking, he’d be six feet under by now!”

  Hilda obligingly made lunch for everyone, and then the men unloaded the wagons. Memory after memory from home washed over Ruth as each item came into view. Hilda and Laney both had opinions where everything ought to go. Though the men left, the women remained in the cottage and rearranged things to suit their fancy.

  “I need to get over and start supper.” Hilda stretched her back. “It’s a crying shame it’s so hot. A hearty stew would have simplified the night. As it is, with Josh in such a dark mood, I’d best cook up one of his favorites.”

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into my brother.” Laney angled a chair into a corner and stepped back to appreciate the effect.

  “He’s angry with me.” Ruth let out a deep sigh. “In his opinion, I should have stayed over at your house.”

  “Yes, I heard him mention it once or three hundred times,” Laney said blithely.

  “It makes no sense. I’ve caused him enough trouble. You’d think he’d be glad to get rid of me. All of the headmistresses were deliriously happy to send me away.”

  Laney huffed, “Ruth!”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “Well, it’s perfectly clear why Josh is different from them. He’s a man.” Laney suddenly let out a squeal. “That’s why!”

  “I don’t find any comfort in knowing I’m able to vex men just as much as I do women.” Ruth held a picture up to the wall and tried to decide where it would look best. She’d been trying to keep herself busy in order to mute the miserable feeling of knowing Josh was put out with her.

  Laney pulled the picture from her hands and dumped it on the chair. “Don’t you see?”