Montana Sky: Becoming Mine (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Nevada Bounty Book 3)
Page 2
Isaac was easy enough to spot when Miles walked into the dining room of the inn. A few years older than Miles, Isaac shared many of the same features with Miles, their oldest brother Wyatt, and their father, including black hair, broad shoulders, and height. Their youngest brother Sam had inherited the fair hair and looks of their mother.
When Isaac saw him, a grin cracked his face and he stood to greet Miles, grabbing him into a bear hug.
“It’s good to see you, little brother,” Isaac said.
“Sam is the little brother,” Miles said, taking a seat at the table.
“You’re both little to me,” Isaac said, joining him.
“I’m thirty-six, that’s hardly little.”
“And yet...”
The waiter interrupted the conversation and Miles ordered the special of the day.
“What has you so cranky today?” Isaac asked.
“I’m not cranky.”
“I’ll admit, it’s hard to tell since you’re always grumpy, but you’re definitely more grumpy than usual.”
Miles shot him a sour look. “If you must know, I do have some things on my mind.”
He tore a hunk off the bread Isaac had already ordered, and buttered it.
“Is it the new job?”
“There’s a lot of work to do. The previous manager wasn’t very organized, or conscientious, it seems. I have to clean up a lot of his poor business practices.”
“The Kiss of Fate misses you.”
Miles had managed the mine Isaac and his wife Beth had discovered for many years for turning it over to Beth’s friend Lydia, a competent manager in her own right.
“I’m sure Lydia has it running like a well-oiled machine.”
“She certainly does. But I doubt the work load is what has you out of sorts. You thrive on that sort of thing.”
“I hired a new clerk today, a young man who claimed to be older than he is. He seems competent, though, and he wasn’t intimidated by me.”
“Smart boy,” Isaac said. “He’ll go far.”
“Funny.”
The waiter brought their plates and set Miles’ in front of him. The rich, meaty smell of lamb drenched in gravy made his stomach growl. He used the remaining chunk of bread to sop up some of the thick liquid from the plate, and savored it after shoving it into his mouth.
“The new employee isn’t what’s bothering you, though, is it?” Isaac asked.
“You’ve become a nosy busybody in your old age,” Miles said.
Isaac chuckled. “As you pointed out earlier, we’re not so old. But Beth has had a steadying effect on me. She’s softened all my rough edges.”
“Mmph,” Miles grunted the noncommittal sound around a mouthful of potatoes.
Isaac remained silent long enough to get Miles’ attention, and when he looked up at his brother, he caught the thoughtful look on his face.
“What’s this really about, Miles?”
Miles sighed and placed his silverware on his plate, before wiping his mouth with the napkin.
“I’ve been wondering about getting a wife.”
Isaac snorted. “You make it sound like an easy thing. Just order one up and you’re all set.”
“It is possible,” Miles said, bristling at his brother’s teasing.
“Why do you want a wife?”
A good question. “I see the way you and Wyatt and Sam are with your wives and families. You’re happy. In love.”
“And you want that?”
“I do, but I’m not unaware of the fact that I’m thirty-six, set in my ways, and as you so fondly and frequently point out, I’m…”
“…churlish? prickly? cantankerous?”
“I was going to say serious.”
“You’re way past serious, brother. It’s going to take a special kind of woman to tame you. One you certainly won’t find in a catalog somewhere. If you order a bride by mail she’ll spend ten minutes with you and change her mind.”
“You’re not making this any easier,” Miles said.
“Of course not. Why would I? None of us thought you’d ever marry, so I want to savor this moment. It turns out your heart isn’t made of stone after all.”
“I’m glad to know my brothers all have such high regard for me.”
“In truth Miles, you know we all love you. Our wives have been scheming for years to find you a match, but we’ve told them it won’t do any good until you’re ready. You’re that stubborn.”
“Hmph. Thank you for that. I’m not so far gone that I need your wives to turn me into a charity case.”
“I don’t know. Now that you’ve broached the subject, it’ll be hard to keep them reined in. You know them. They’re a determined lot.”
“You’d better manage it.”
Isaac put up his hands in defense. “As if I could control them once they’ve truly set their minds to something. I suggest you find yourself a wife before they get wind of it, or you may as well surrender any control over the matter.”
Chapter 2
Ruby hadn’t thought beyond getting the job, and the realization hit her as she left the building and had no place to go.
She couldn’t go home to her family, because she’d lied to them. Aside from that, they’d never approve of what she’d done.
The rooms she and Charlie had rented when he worked at the mine were gone. She’d left them this morning, unable to pay any further rent.
So what was she to do?
She wandered the streets of Virginia City, unused to going about her business without the interested eyes and greetings of the men she came in contact with. Dressed as a man, she’d become invisible to other men.
As the sun headed down the back half of the afternoon, she found herself in front of the brothel where she’d worked part time cleaning. If anyone would accept a woman in unusual circumstance it was Della Kinney and her girls.
Ruby climbed the stairs and stepped inside the spacious foyer. Still early enough in the evening that the business of the day had yet to commence, the place felt more like a home than a brothel. A large dining room opened to the left, and a parlor to the right. Having cleaned the building, Ruby knew the kitchen was through the hall to the back of the house, and up the stairs each of the women had her own room.
One of the women—Cecelia—a pretty blond with alarmingly large breasts, approached her from the dining room.
“You’re a little early, son.”
Cecelia stood a couple of inches taller than Ruby and smiled down at her in a way that spoke of teasing. As if she were poking fun at Ruby, or in this case Ray.
“I need to speak with Miss Della, please.”
“Who is it, Cecelia?” another woman named Sally—a brunette with striking blue eyes—asked as she joined them in the foyer. “Oh, well aren’t you darling? A little young, perhaps, but sweet.”
“Is Miss Della here?” Ruby asked, trying to remain patient.
Two more women joined them in the foyer.
“What’s all the commotion—oh. Who’s this?” Ruby remembered this woman’s name to be Betsy, a petite woman with a tiny waist.
“Is this your first time, sweetheart?” The last woman’s name was Victoria, a tall redhead with a warm Southern accent.
They all stepped in closer, surrounding her like vultures hovering over a juicy carcass. Ruby lost track of who said what as they all talked over each other, but the gist of it was an excitement over a young man and who would get to be his first.
“Ladies, let the poor man breathe.”
Ruby recognized Della’s voice. Finally.
The women parted to reveal Della standing a few feet away, tall, proper, and imposing. When she saw Ruby her brows scrunched together and she cocked her head, studying her.
“Do I know you?” she asked.
Did she ever. “May I speak with you in private, ma’am?”
“Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of my girls.”
Ruby sighed. This wouldn’t be eas
y. She reached up and slid the hat off her head, then brushed the hair back from her face.
“Miss Della, it’s me, Ruby Jackson. I need your help.”
Della’s brows shot up in recognition. “Ruby? What in tarnation are you doing dressed like a boy?”
Ruby’s confession set the women off again and there was no following the jangle of voices one on top of the other.
“Ladies,” Della said. “Give Ruby some space. Let her talk.”
Ruby swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. She’d accomplished what she set out to do, but it felt like she’d lost so much more in the doing of it.
“After Charlie died, my family needed an income. I mean no offense, but the money I’ve made cleaning here and other places hasn’t been enough. I looked around and it seemed like all the jobs that paid enough to live on were men’s jobs or…”
She couldn’t figure out how to tell the women she didn’t want to do the job they did without insulting them.
“Don’t worry,” Cecelia said. “If we had choices we probably wouldn’t do our job, either.”
“It’s a hard life, even working for someone as good as Della,” Betsy said.
Ruby nodded, then continued. “I knew I could do some of those other jobs, but I’d never get any of them as a woman. So I became a man. But, I didn’t think far enough ahead, and now I have nowhere to stay.”
“Did you at least get a job?” Della asked. Her expression wavered somewhere between disapproval and sympathy. Ruby needed sympathy.
“Yes, ma’am. Clerk to Miles Collins at the North Hill mine.”
Victoria whistled. “That’s impressive. I hear Collins is a tough customer.”
“Not that any of the women in town would know,” Sally said. “From what I hear, he’s never frequented any of the brothels in Virginia City.”
“Maybe that’s why he’s got a reputation for being so bad-tempered,” Cecelia said.
That set the women off laughing. Ruby couldn’t help a smirk at the thought. Mr. Collins hadn’t seemed bad-tempered to her, just serious. She wondered what his face would look like with a smile on it. Would it light up? Would it change completely?
As the laughter settled, Della said, “So you need a place to stay? Why come here?”
Ruby shrugged. “I don’t know. I walked around the city this afternoon trying to worry through the problem, but had no ideas until I looked up and found myself here. I suppose my feet knew the answer before my head. Do you have room for me? I’ll pay rent once I start getting paid.”
The look in Della’s eyes tipped over into sympathy and the knot of concern in Ruby’s belly began to loosen.
“I suppose we can find space for you,” Della said. “What kind of person would I be if I turned away another woman in need? But while you’re here, you’ll need to dress as a woman. I can’t have people thinking I have a man living under my roof, even if you do look more like a boy. We’ll call you the maid, or maybe my cousin from back East, and you can stick to the back of the house.”
“Thank you so much, Della,” Ruby said, reaching for Della’s hand. She squeezed it in hers, so grateful that the prick of tears burned the corners of her eyes.
“You’re welcome. Betsy, you’re the closest to Ruby’s size, do you have a dress she can borrow? Something modest?” Della asked.
“Certainly. I’ll go see what I can find,” Betsy said, turning to head up the stairs.
“The rest of you should get ready for the evening business to start. Someone wake Chloe, and go make sure Sarah has supper ready so we can sit down to eat,” Della said. “Ruby, follow me.”
Della led her through the kitchen and down a back hallway to a small room near the entry to the cellar. A narrow bed, a dresser with a basin and ewer on top, and a rocking chair filled the small space.
“It’s nothing fancy, but it’s a place to lay your head,” Della said.
“It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Miss Della?” An older black woman dressed in a loose-cut dress, an apron dirty from cooking, and a white cloth head wrap stood in the doorway.
“Yes, Sarah?”
“I’m short of a few things—bacon, coffee, flour. Mercantile closes in a half hour,” Sarah said.
“Is supper finished?”
“Not yet, ma’am.”
“Well, Ruby. It looks like you’ll get to earn your keep until you have enough money for rent. When Betsy brings you that dress, I’ll send you to the mercantile,” Della said.
Ruby adjusted the shawl Betsy had loaned her to wear over the dress. The dress was a tight fit and the neckline plunged below where Ruby was comfortable, but the girls assured her it was still acceptable for wearing in public. If this passed for modest in Betsy’s wardrobe, Ruby hesitated to consider her other dresses.
Still, she was grateful for the shawl.
She hurried down the boardwalk, staying to the outside so as not to get squished into a wall when she passed other people. She’d pinned her hair up the best she could under a simple felt hat that sat far enough back on her head to cover most of her hair.
Her stomach rumbled as she neared the mercantile. She hadn’t eaten all day, and if she didn’t make this a quick trip, the likelihood was good the rest of the women at the house would only leave her pan scrapings for supper.
Deep in daydreams of savory meat and hearty bread, she ran headlong into someone, bouncing off him with a loud, “oof.”
“Pardon me,” a familiar male voice said. His hands gripped her shoulders, setting her steady on her feet.
Her hand flew to her chest as she looked up into intense blue eyes. “Oh, Mr. Collins, you startled me.”
“Do I know you?”
“Um…”
Of course there was no way she would have known him as Ruby, but he’d startled her so badly, she’d blurted the first thing that came to her mind.
Another man stood behind Miles, maybe an inch or two taller, a couple of years older, but with the same black hair and blue eyes. This one had a touch of silver at the temples, though. Must be a brother.
“You must be related to Ray Jackson. Maybe his sister?” Miles asked.
“Yes!” She said, grasping at the lifeline. “Ray is definitely my brother.”
“You look remarkably like him.”
“Resemblance is strong in my family. As it is in yours, I see. This must be your brother?”
Miles glanced at his brother, then back at Ruby. “Yes, this is Isaac Collins. I’m Miles. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”
“I’m Ruby Jackson. Pleased to meet you, sir.”
She dipped a little curtsy, and when she came back up he had a flummoxed look in his eyes.
A lock of her hair had come loose in their collision and it fell now into her face. His hand twitched upward and for an instant she thought he might reach up and tuck it back into place. Instead, he shoved his hand into his pocket and swallowed hard.
“Are you all right, sir?” she asked.
Isaac chuckled behind him. “He’s just fine, ma’am. Probably distracted by our dinner conversation.”
Miles snapped out of it and shot Isaac a sour look before turning back to Ruby. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Tell Ray I expect him bright and early.”
***
Isaac was probably right that their dinner conversation about women and wives had been the catalyst for his distraction on meeting Miss Ruby Jackson, and also for her playing a role in his dreams all night long. He’d never tell Isaac that, though, or his brothers wouldn’t ever let him forget it.
Those dreams—and the woman herself—haunted his thoughts this morning, leaving him out of sorts. On the one hand, her pretty face and expressive eyes appealed to him, and he kept coming back to the way her lips had formed a charming ‘O’ when they’d bumped into each other, and the sweet pink blush on her cheeks when he’d pointed out she looked like her brother. That hadn’t been the most considerate comment on his part. What woman wants her looks c
ompared to a man, even if he is her brother? The reality was that Ray looked more like her than she looked like him.
On the other hand, he resented that she’d taken up residence in his mind. They’d only just met. How could one woman have wheedled her way into his imagination in such a short time? In thirty-six years no woman had managed it so far. Why this one?
He sat slumped at his desk deep in thought about Ruby Jackson when her brother Ray peeked in the doorway of his office.
“Good morning, Mr. Collins,” Ray said.
“Good morning, Mr. Jackson.” Miles sat up in his chair, pushing Ruby out of his mind. He had work to do. “Are you ready to work?”
Ray grinned. “I am, sir.”
“I have a pile of correspondence I need to deal with, and some errands you can run for me.”
“Sir? Could we start with a tour of the mine buildings, so I know where everything is? Maybe you can introduce me to people I’ll be working with.”
Miles scowled at Ray for being right, and for being Ruby’s brother, which made him responsible, somehow, for Ruby distracting him from competently doing his job. But the eager look on Ray’s face quelled his urge to snap at him. It wasn’t Ray’s fault Miles apparently had a crush on his sister.
“Yes. That’s a good place to start.”
Miles stood and rounded the desk, heading for the door. Ray fell in step next to him and they spent the next couple of hours visiting every part of the property. Miles introduced Ray to everyone from the accountant to the blacksmith to the cook and all those in between. Without exception, Ray smiled and shook hands and put each man at ease. By the time they’d circled back to the office, Ray had made friends with every man on the property.
“You have a way with people,” Miles said as they climbed the stairs back to his office.
Ray shrugged. “It’s not that hard. I just try to be nice.”
“Hmph. Not so easy when you’re the boss.”
“Do you think the men don’t like you?”
“I don’t need them to like me, I need them to respect me.”
He wasn’t there to be friends with the men. He had a business to run, and in order to do that, workers had to respect and maybe even fear the boss.