Beyond the Ashes

by Karen Barnett

  “Lovely.” He smiled her direction. “You’re a skilled driver now. You can do everything but change a tire.”

  Ruby swallowed, resisting his compliments. “Perhaps we should save the tire lesson for another day? Robert and Abby will be getting worried. We left them by the pond over an hour ago.”

  “I daresay they can entertain themselves.”

  “Yes.” She shook her head. “Exactly my fear.”

  “You seem so determined to maintain their honor. I think you underestimate their self-control. Robert and Abby have behaved admirably under the circumstances.”

  “I’ve been married before. I know what they’re facing. I want them to begin this marriage on the right foot.”

  He raised his hands, clad in leather driving gloves. “I have nothing on you there.”

  Ruby ducked her chin. Why did she keep stumbling into awkward conversations with this man? No sense in pointing out the obvious. Not to mention reminding him of what they both lacked. Her heart skipped as she remembered seeing him in the garden in thin cotton union suit and trousers, suspenders hanging loose at his sides. Ruby gripped the wheel. There was more than one reason to hasten back to the others. Perhaps they weren’t the only ones requiring a chaperone. “Which way to the pond?”

  “You’re not going to like the answer.”

  She shot him a withering glance. “Down the hill?”

  He nodded, a dimple showing in one cheek. “But aren’t you glad you learned out here instead of in the city?”

  Ruby shifted the car into gear and bumped back down the slope as scattered thoughts bounced through her mind. Why did she keep pushing Gerald away? She’d managed to take control of her fear of automobiles, couldn’t she do the same with love? She darted another glance at him, his shoulders back and arms folded across his ribs. Her heart bobbled. How she would like to run a hand along his shoulder, touch her cheek to his. Ruby swung her face forward, reminding herself to keep her eyes on the road. She needed to make some decisions, but perhaps it would be best to do so when she wasn’t behind the wheel of an unpredictable automobile.

  * * *

  Gerald forced himself back against the upholstered seat, fighting to keep his proud grin under wraps. He’d known what she would face on the steep grade, but hadn’t expected her to dig in and master the skill so quickly. The first time he’d stalled on a hill, it’d felt as if Mexican jumping beans had taken up residency in his stomach. And he hadn’t been saddled with Ruby’s inordinate fear of automobiles.

  The breeze toyed with the tails of Ruby’s scarf, sending them fluttering like fall leaves. She’d finally gained enough courage to drive at a decent speed. They were probably even pushing twenty-five miles per hour.

  He leaned back. “I could get used to having my own chauffeur.”

  She laughed, the sound carrying above the clattering engine. “I doubt there are many female chauffeurs.”

  “Much more enjoyable this way, I do believe.” He stopped short of complimenting her again. Mustn’t look like a drooling fool.

  She shifted her eyes forward, lifting one hand from the wheel to shade her brow. “I see Robert over by the edge of the wood, but where’s Abby?”

  He gestured to the trees as Ruby parked the car. “I believe she’s climbed up one of those.”

  Ruby’s jaw dropped. “In her best skirt? Whatever for?”

  Gerald jumped out and circled around to her side. “Perhaps they’re reenacting their first meeting.”

  Ruby stepped out of the automobile, shaking out her long duster coat. “I can’t say as I quite understand her, though I am trying. She’s a lovely girl, if a mite unconventional.”

  “That’s my cousin, all right.”

  “She was tree-climbing when they met?” Ruby’s nose wrinkled.

  Gerald leaned against the vehicle. “There are probably more memorable first meetings.” He ran a hand across his chin. “How did you meet your husband?”

  She unfastened her coat and slid her arms free, folding it over her elbow. “In grammar school.”

  “So young?” No wonder she wasn’t eager to begin again.

  “I suppose it was no more dignified than Abby’s tree climbing.” Ruby smiled. “Charlie insulted my cousin, so I cuffed him across the cheek and told him to straighten up.”

  Gerald stepped back. “Remind me never to get on your bad side. Did he do as you commanded?”

  She met his gaze, her blue eyes distant. “Charlie always did what I asked.” Her lips turned downward. “Even when I insisted he propose. The only time he didn’t was when he bought that crazy horse.”

  Gerald hesitated for a moment before wrapping an arm around her back and drawing her close. Perhaps his actions would drive away her sad memories.

  Ruby laid her head against his chest. Her warm breath teased his neck, her voice soft. “What about you? Would you always say yes to me?”

  Gerald paused, sensing the test in her words. Could he? He shook his head, her hat’s feathered plume tickling his nose. “Sorry, dear. I only do as God commands.”

  26

  Gerald closed the study door, resting his hand against the oak panel. He stared at the swirls in the grain, not wishing to confront the scowl on his friend’s face.

  “I think you owe me an explanation.” Robert’s deep voice echoed from across the room. “Is there something going on between you and my sister? At first, I told Abby she was imagining things. After today, I’m less certain. Not only the bizarre comment at breakfast, but you were an hour late coming back from your driving lesson.”

  Gerald edged to the right, putting the desk between them. As the senior partner, he was unaccustomed to justifying his actions to the younger man. “I didn’t intend for anything—I mean, I never planned . . .”

  Robert raised a brow.

  Gerald pressed knuckles to his forehead to steady his thoughts. “When your sister arrived in San Francisco, I didn’t anticipate anything developing between us.”

  Flattening his palms on the desktop, Robert leaned forward. “When did it change?”

  Gerald sank into the swivel chair. “I’m not certain.”

  “Does she feel the same toward you?”

  “Again, I’m not certain. At times she seems to.” Gerald’s skin crawled. He’d never been comfortable discussing his personal life, and now he was doing it with Ruby’s brother. “But I think something is preventing her.”

  “I can imagine several ‘somethings.’” Robert narrowed his eyes. “Shall I list them for you?”

  Gerald rose from the seat and wandered to the window. “I realize she’s uncomfortable with our housing situation.”

  “You are slow-witted about these things, aren’t you? Small wonder you’re still a bachelor.” Robert ran a hand through his dark hair. “You never knew Charlie Marshall, but he was practically an older brother to me. A big, quiet fellow who followed Ruby around like Otto does now.”

  Gerald gazed through the glass to the back yard. Ruby crouched next to Abby, working in the garden, a giant sun hat obscuring her face. “I don’t wish to replace Charlie.”

  “Not much chance—you’re nothing like him. Let’s see, what else? You’re her boss. You’re my partner, not to mention my friend.” Robert crossed the room, dropping into an upholstered chair. “Highly unprofessional. She’s also a guest in your home. And did I fail to point out—my sister? Those should be enough reasons to stay clear.”

  Gerald set his jaw. “I seem to remember having a similar conversation with you a few months back about Abby. What I don’t remember is you abiding by my wishes.”

  “God had other ideas.”

  “Have you considered this might be His will, as well?”

  “His will or yours?” Robert clamped both hands on the armrests.

  Heat gathered under Gerald’s collar. “I’ve done nothing untoward in regard to Ruby. I have no regrets beyond failing to conduct this conversation with you beforehand. As I said, it’s taken me as much by surpri
se as it has you.” He leaned back against the windowsill. “Robert, this may all come to naught. I might be smitten—honestly, who wouldn’t be? Ruby is beautiful, intelligent, cultured, and compassionate. But she obviously has too many barriers in place to entertain the notion. And frankly even if she hadn’t, I can’t imagine she’d choose me. I promise you—I will stand aside, unless she requests otherwise.”

  Robert’s nose wrinkled. “I suppose she could do worse than you.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  His friend joined him at the window. “I was so consumed with myself, I didn’t even see what was happening. I haven’t been a good brother.” He cast a sideways glance at Gerald. “Or friend.”

  Gerald jammed hands into his pockets. “No one can blame you. I never realized how much a woman could occupy one’s thoughts.”

  Robert cleared his throat, a low growling sound. “Until I get used to the concept, you might be advised to keep those thoughts under lock and key.”

  Gerald’s gaze remained fixed on Ruby as she straightened and brushed both hands down her skirt. He grunted. “You have no idea.”

  A wrinkle wandered across his friend’s brow. “I might. That’s what bothers me.”

  * * *

  The earthy scent of turned soil tickled Ruby’s sinuses. She pressed the back of her hand against her nose. “Your talent for gardening is far beyond mine.”

  Abby kneeled on the ground, elbow-deep in the muck as she settled the roots in their new home. “Plants are straightforward—you meet their basic needs and they flourish. I only wish people were as simple.”

  “But people can express their needs. Talk out their problems.” Ruby eyed the dirt under her fingernails. “Plants just droop and wither.”

  The younger woman pressed the loam into place. “I’ve never been skilled at conversation. It’s my greatest weakness.”

  Ruby reached for the gardening fork. “You observe. Nothing escapes you.”

  “But you can put people at ease with a word. Everyone you meet becomes an admirer.” Abby scooped up the trowel and bucket, moving along the bedding row to another hole. “My sister had the gift as well.” She shooed Otto away from where he helped with the digging, his paddle paws working overtime.

  Ruby trailed behind, admiring Abby’s tender treatment of the vegetation. She’d rather dig her hands into a pile of silk brocade. “I think my forward manner is disconcerting to some.”

  “Not true. My friend Patrick is quite taken with you. He asked if I might arrange for him to see you again.”

  “Patrick?” Ruby stiffened. “Why?” The word escaped like a strangled yelp.

  “Why do you think?” Abby smiled, sweeping a lock of hair from her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “I’ve never—I’ve never given him any reason to believe I’d be interested.”

  “You didn’t need to. He took one look at you and fell in love.”

  “Don’t jest about such things. He couldn’t possibly be in love with me.” Ruby swallowed, her mouth suddenly as dry as day-old toast.

  Abby glanced up, squinting into the sunlight. “And why ever not? You’re lovely, accomplished, caring. You gave up your comfortable life in Sacramento to come work in a disaster area. You spend countless hours in the hospital with Robert and Gerald and their patients. You’re exactly the kind of woman Patrick admires.”

  Ruby clenched her dirt-stained hands. “Tell him no. Absolutely not. I’m far too busy for social calls.”

  “He’s not some social climber, you know. He’s a minister, and he’s devoted to the city’s disenfranchised. I know he appears a bit silly sometimes, but he’s a good man.”

  “I’ve already had a good man. I’m not seeking a replacement.” Ruby glanced toward the house. And if I were, Patrick’s not the one I’d choose.

  Abby stood, casting her tools aside. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to suggest you were. If you want me to dissuade him, I will. But won’t you at least consider it?”

  Ruby twisted the hem of her apron. “It would be dishonest to encourage his advances. My heart belongs to another.”

  “Your late husband.” Abby nodded and touched Ruby’s sleeve. “I understand. He’d be honored by your devotion. If something happened to Robert, I’m certain I’d feel the same.”

  Ruby stepped back. Yes, my husband. A chill raced across her skin. She swallowed. “I’m going inside to clean up. I’d like to start piecing your gown today while daylight remains.”

  Her friend sighed. “Sewing—an additional area where I’m lacking in skills. If you don’t mind, I’ll stay out here and keep working.”

  Ruby nodded and turned toward the house. A few moments to gather her thoughts would be welcome.

  A familiar figure darkened one of the windows.

  A fresh wave of prickles lifted the hairs on her neck. She hurried through the back door and paused at the sink to wash the dirt from her hands. Tremors tortured her insides. Why did she postpone making a decision about Gerald? She needed to either discourage him or choose to set aside her misgivings. She could no longer deny her feelings toward the man. Love had blossomed, like one of Abby’s roses. But, was it enough?

  Ruby returned to the room she shared with Abby, retrieved the parcel of fabric from the wardrobe, and sank down on the edge of the bed. She ran her fingers across the smooth silk. Should she risk her heart again? God wouldn’t take a second husband from her. Would He? Ruby pressed the delicate fabric to her chest.

  She closed her eyes and pictured herself in the automobile, her hands gripping the wooden wheel—a fork in the road ahead. If she turned to the right, Gerald waited, a tender smile and arms outstretched. If she steered to the left, a deserted lane stretched into the distance. Her heart pounded as she slowed to a stop between the two choices.

  Right: Gerald, love, future.

  Left: Alone and empty, forever.

  The choice seemed obvious, so why did her stomach tighten every time she considered it? Ruby stood and shook out the long strip of fabric, laying it across the bed. She retrieved the lace and added the layer atop the silk, relishing the beautiful combination of textures. Such a perfect image for a wedding—two different people joined together, creating something altogether new. The blending provided layers of depth and feeling never existing before. Ruby gathered the material into her arms, the silk spilling down her legs like a heavenly raiment.

  She needed to overcome this fear, because her heart had already made its choice.

  27

  Late afternoon sunlight drifted in the long dining room windows, illuminating the chandelier’s crystal prisms and bouncing along the table’s surface. Ruby’s hand trembled as she guided the shears through the fine silk. Cutting was always the most frightening part of sewing—no going back. She brushed away a loose thread. But what good is uncut cloth?

  The light shimmered against the glossy material. Ruby leaned forward and repositioned her hand to make the second cut, her shadow falling across the table. She kept her focus even as soft footfalls sounded in the doorway.

  “Well, look at you.” Mae’s voice broke the stillness. “Hard at work, as always. Don’t you ever sit down?”

  Ruby tried to smile—a dangerous venture with her lips clamped around three straight pins. She laid down the cutting implement and removed the pointed objects, jabbing them into the cushion. “You’ve heard what they say about idle hands.”

  A faint smile rearranged the lines surrounding the older woman’s mouth. “The devil’s workshop, yes. Not exactly how the Bible puts it, but probably true nonetheless.” Mae wandered to Ruby’s side, reaching out a hand to stroke the fabric. “Lovely silk. Where did you come by it?”

  “Waterston Dressmakers over on Market Street. They had a nice selection—much better than we find in Sacramento. We stopped on the way home. Abby’s chosen a design, now I’m eager to get started.”

  The older woman clucked her tongue. “So many new shops. It’s as if the fires wiped the slate clean and ev
erything is beginning anew.”

  “I suppose. Life returns—rises from the ashes.”

  Mae circled around to join Ruby, lifting the bundle of lace from where it lay draped across a chair. “Like in Isaiah, ‘To give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.’ A perfect description for what has happened in our city—and in our family—during this past year. We still mourn, but this wedding brings great joy. And now you’re making a garment of praise.”

  Ruby retrieved the shears, driving them through the delicate material, turning over Mae’s words in her mind. “It seems odd sometimes how the two emotions—mourning and joy—can abide together.”

  Mae reached for a handful of pins. “God created us to be complex beings, made in His image. Our hearts are like a pantry overflowing with spices, ready to season our lives. Imagine how bland life would be minus their flavor.”

  “I could do without a few of the more bitter ones.”

  The elderly woman spread the lace, tracing its pattern with knobby fingertips. “Without the bitter, we wouldn’t appreciate the sweet.” She smiled. “And we’d all have tummy aches, like overindulgent toddlers.”

  Is that what I’ve done? Removed the flavor from my life? Ruby took a final snip and lifted the bodice section free, placing it with the other pieces. “I’m almost ready to begin stitching. I can’t wait to see it finished.”

  “My treadle machine’s a bit outdated, but it still manages even rows of stitches. Mrs. Fulsom of my quilting club has a new electric one.” Mae helped her gather the scraps.

  “I prefer the treadle. Thank you.”

  The study door swung open, Robert and Gerald chuckling together as they came her direction. Ruby smiled, their mirth a pleasant change from the tension she’d sensed sparking between the two men earlier.

  Robert’s attention settled on the fabric-strewn table. “Abby’s dress?”

  Ruby stepped in front of him. “She doesn’t want you to see it. And the first rule of marriage is always honor your wife’s wishes.”

  He lifted his hands. “I was only inquiring. Where is she?”