by Janet Dailey
“Somebody better get a doctor for him.” His voice was a rasping sound as he gestured wearily toward Kreuger. Someone peeled away from the circle and went hurrying behind the roadhouse to the doctor’s office. Webb turned his hard gaze on the group of men blocking the steps to the roadhouse restaurant. “Make way for my wife.” He challenged them to stand in her path as Kreuger had done.
For a moment, no one moved. Then there was a slight shuffling and shifting of position to make an opening for Lilli to pass. Webb freed his arm from her hold and shifted his hand to the back of her waist, guiding her toward the spot. She walked ahead of him, her shoulders squarely braced and her chin level. Tiredness was invading his limbs, but he followed her, meeting the looks of the men on either side.
When they were on the raised boardwalk of the roadhouse porch, he felt the heavy tension lifting from the air. Lilli opened the door to the restaurant, paused a second to be sure Webb was behind her, then walked in. He noticed the angry sparkle in her eyes and wondered at it.
“Sit at that table.” She issued the command to Webb, which he obeyed by pulling out a chair at the table she had indicated. Before he had lowered his body onto it, she was giving sharp orders to the waitress to bring a basin of hot water and a cloth so she could clean and doctor his cuts. Webb was amused at the way she had everyone scurrying to do her bidding, intimidating them with her dictatorial attitude, but when he tried to smile, the action pulled at the long cut on his upper lip and started it bleeding again.
When everything had been delivered to the table, she began cleaning his small wounds. The touch of her hands was gentle, but Webb sensed the repressed anger that smoldered in her eyes. He watched her while she dabbed so carefully at his split lip, her concentration focusing on her task. Since Lilli was responsible for stopping the fight, Webb supposed she was upset because it had occurred at all. He attempted to explain the necessity for his violent action.
“If I had let him get by with treating you like that, there would have been no end to it, Lilli.” His words were slightly muffled by her continued ministrations to the cut on his mouth. “He brought the fight to me. If I hadn’t finished it—”
“I know,” she interrupted with a sharp acknowledgment of his reasons, which puzzled him more.
“I thought you were angry because I fought him,” he said.
“I am.” She rinsed out the cloth with brisk motions. “I wish I could have hit him. I wish I could have beat him up.” Her voice was thick with anger. “It’s the first time in my life I ever wished I was a man.”
His look became thoughtful, but he hid it behind a light remark. “I’m glad you’re not.”
She paused, a hint of concern lurking in her eyes. “I probably shouldn’t have stopped you, Webb. You don’t know Franz Kreuger the way I do. He’s the one that goaded Stefan into shooting you. If he hadn’t been there that morning, it wouldn’t have occurred to Stefan to react like that. I’m sure of it.”
“That’s in the past. We weren’t going to look back, remember?” Webb saw the tension in her face before she made a weak attempt at a smile in response.
“I remember,” she said, but silently reminded herself that it was not possible.
“Did you finish your shopping?” He changed the subject.
“Yes.” It seemed so long ago since she had supervised the loading of her purchases. Lilli tried to summon some of her previous enthusiasm to assure Webb that everything was all right, when she knew it wasn’t. “I found some blue material to make into a dress for Ruth’s wedding. I hope you’ll like it.”
His forefinger pressed against the cut on his lip, as if testing the degree of pain it caused, but the frown that creased his forehead didn’t come from that. “I hope Ruth knows what she’s doing.”
Her glance sharpened on him. “You sound as if you don’t approve of Virgil Haskell marrying her.”
His mouth slanted in a wry line that didn’t aggravate the cut. “Does any man approve of his sister’s choice for a husband?” Webb countered.
“I suppose not.” Lilli understood that Webb regarded Ruth Stanton as being family, so the reference to Ruth as a sister didn’t surprise her.
The door to Sonny’s place opened and Sheriff Potter crowfooted in. He spied Webb and angled toward his table. Taking his time, he removed his hat and used the seconds to warily take in Webb’s battered knuckles and bruised features.
“I got called over to the doc’s,” he said. “Kreuger’s got a busted nose and some broke ribs. He ain’t a pretty sight, but he’s all right.”
Webb let the information settle and made no comment. Whatever was on the sheriffs mind, it would be said without any prompting from Webb. He had no intention of defending his reason for the fight or his winning of it.
“The town’s hired me to keep the peace,” Potter stated. “I don’t like trouble.”
“That makes two of us,” Webb stated. “But Kreuger seems to have a penchant for it. So don’t talk to me about it.”
Potter listened to Calder’s voice, not caring about the words, but catching the certainty of the tone. The fight was spilt milk as far as he was concerned. The doc was cleaning up one and Calder’s bride of a month was wiping up the other. But the badge he wore on his shirt meant he was obliged to make an appearance in the name of law and order. Potter had his own version of his responsibilities. In the long run, it was safer and cheaper to let men settle their own differences. As long as nothing was stolen, and women and children weren’t harmed, it wasn’t any of his affair. He’d learned that justice had a way of asserting itself. It was a lot easier than trying to figure out for himself who was right and who was wrong.
“I’ll be speaking to him,” Potter said, meaning Kreuger. He glanced at Calder’s bride, fully aware she had been married to Kreuger’s best friend, and made his own guesses about the cause of the fight. He nodded to her politely. “G’day to you, ma’am.” With a total lack of haste, he put his hat back on and walked to the door.
Ruth’s wedding took place shortly after the New Year. The simple ceremony was held at The Homestead, with the ranch families in attendance. Ruth was white and trembling as she made her vows. Her eyes were dry, all the tears shed months ago. Later, when Webb congratulated her, she even managed to smile.
A winter wedding was the perfect excuse for the cowboys to cut loose and celebrate, making Ruth’s wedding day and evening anything but quiet. Despite the cold and snow, she and her new husband were shivareed by the rowdy and celebrating ranch hands that came to drag them out of the house they would be sharing with her father and parade them through the wintry night. Lilli and several other of the wives had prepared refreshments for the occasion, so it was well after midnight before the party broke up.
Ruth was certain it had been the longest day of her life. The gold band on her finger still felt strange and cold. She glanced at Virg as he shut the door on the last of his friends, and knew she was cheating him. Her gaze dropped when he looked at her, and she began a busy attempt to straighten up the room.
“The place is a mess,” she murmured when he came up and took hold of her hands to stop her.
“You’ll have plenty of time to clean it tomorrow,” he insisted. “I think we should follow your father’s example and call it a night.”
She glanced at the door to her father’s bedroom where he’d gone more than twenty minutes before. When Virg began to lead her to the door of the second bedroom—their bedroom—she didn’t resist. It was a small room, barely large enough for the big feather bed and the mirrored dresser.
When Virg’s hold on her hand loosened, Ruth pulled it free and walked to the mirror to take down her hair and fix it in a braid the same way she’d done it a thousand nights before. Only this time, she wouldn’t be going to bed alone with her dreams about Webb. She would be sharing the bed with her husband. She watched his reflection in the mirror as he loosened the knot of his tie. There wasn’t any room for regrets, not anymore.
Whi
le she mechanically brushed her pale blond hair, Ruth studied the leanly muscled man removing his suit jacket. He stretched his neck to unfasten the boiled collar of his white shirt and glanced her way. His gaze met the reflection of hers in the mirror, and he paused to study her with a possessive intensity.
“It’s a rare feeling to look at you and know you are Mrs. Virgil Haskell.” Then he smiled, a little at himself and at the idea. She caught the glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “I’m a married man now, with a wife to think about . . . and someday, a family. It makes a man look at things differently.”
“What do you mean?” Since he seemed to expect a response from her, Ruth made one. She had learned it was easier to ask questions than to make statements. It encouraged Virg to talk so she didn’t have to do much of it herself.
“Your pa told me he had some money put aside for you. Maybe we should use it to get a small place of our own,” he suggested. “It isn’t going to be easy to look after you proper on a cowboy’s wages.”
The idea of leaving the ranch was a possibility Ruth had never considered. And she didn’t want to now, either. This was her home; all her friends were here—and Webb. “My father’s health isn’t that good,” she murmured. “I should be nearby so I can look after him. With what I earn teaching—”
“But I don’t want you to teach anymore,” he interrupted and sat down on the bed to take off his boots. “You’re my wife. Your place is in our home, taking care of things and raising our family. I wouldn’t be much of a man if I couldn’t support a wife.” He pulled off one boot and tossed it in the corner, then raised his leg to take off the other. “Any chance of me being more than a cowboy on this ranch is about zero. Calder doesn’t make outsiders into foremen. The only ones who get positions like that are men whose fathers worked for his pa.”
“I don’t think you’re being fair to Webb.” Ruth couldn’t remain silent in the face of that criticism. “If you talked to him about a better position, I’m sure he would consider you.”
“No.” The other boot joined the one in the corner. Virg Haskell stood up and walked the few steps to the mirror in his stockinged feet, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Maybe if you talked to him, he might listen. But he doesn’t think all that much of me.”
“That isn’t true.” Ruth turned around to face him, defending Webb, as she always would. “I’ve heard him say to others how hard you work and how dependable you are.”
“Next week sometime, why don’t you mention to him about me becoming one of his foremen . . . kinda feel him out on the idea,” Virg said and let his hand trail down the length of her pale braid. “If it looks like a possibility, I’ll go talk to him myself. If I can earn a decent wage, there wouldn’t be any reason to leave here.”
“I’ll . . . I’ll talk to him,” Ruth agreed reluctantly, because she didn’t want to leave.
He grinned and kissed her lightly. “Spoken like a proper wife,” he said and moved away to unbutton his shirt.
But she knew she wasn’t. It made her look at him and say, “I’ll be a good wife to you, Virg,” she promised, determined to make up for the fact that she didn’t love him the way she should.
His shirt was completely unbuttoned and pulled loose from his pants, but he didn’t slip it off. He stared at her for a long second before speaking. “You can start by unbuttoning that dress.” His voice was husky and the look in his eyes was avid as he watched her fingers comply with his request. “From this night on, you’re going to belong to me—and no one else.”
Not even Webb Calder. Virg Haskell had known about him all along. Ruth was his wife by default, but Virg was convinced that he’d won just the same. He had wanted her, and she was his. Nothing would ever change that. It was his name she carried, and it would be his children she birthed. If she didn’t love him now the way he wanted her to, she would.
When she stepped out of the dress and stood before him in her lace petticoats, Virg Haskell reached out to take what was his by right. This night her body would know his—and every night to come.
The range had been in poor condition going into the winter months, and the winter turned out to be one of the most brutal in thirty years. The chinooks either were late in arriving or didn’t come at all. The strong, warm wind was blowing across the plains to usher March toward its conclusion and offering a respite from the killing cold, melting snow and ice. The Triple C was taking advantage of the brief spate of mild weather to check the ranch stock and tally up the losses that would undoubtedly run high.
Separating himself from the band of riders on shaggy-coated horses, Webb rode over to the Stanton house and dismounted. His knock on the door was followed by a muffled permission to enter. He stepped into the house and shut the door behind him. Ruth came out of the kitchen and faltered slightly when she saw him.
“Webb. I didn’t know it was you.” She pushed at her hair, trying to smooth the stray wisps into place, nervously gesturing at a chair. “Sit down. I’ll pour you some coffee.”
“No, thanks,” he refused, not bothering to take off his hat because he didn’t intend to stay more than a couple of minutes. “We’re on our way out to check the herds. I stopped by to ask if you would mind looking in on Lilli while I’m gone today. She hasn’t been feeling well this week.”
“Oh?” Ruth put a hand to her stomach, aware of the life it contained. The recent bouts of morning sickness had left her somewhat weakened and shaky for most of the day. “What’s wrong? Do you know?”
Webb shook his head, “She feels all right when she wakes up, but by the afternoon, she can’t seem to keep any food down. I’ve sent a couple of the boys into town to have Simon stop by when he makes his rounds. She insists she’ll be all right, but—I won’t be back until late today, and I’d feel better if you checked on her later.”
“Of course.” She wondered why Webb didn’t say anything about the expected addition to her family. Surely Virg had told him. He had spread the word quickly enough through the other families at the Triple C headquarters. She remembered how proud Virg had been when she told him, happier than when Webb had given him a foreman’s position.
“Thanks, Ruth.” A smile briefly creased his face, showing relief. He reached for the doorknob and paused in the act of turning it. “I heard about your news. Congratulations. You’ll make a fine mother.”
But not to your child, she thought, then buried it deep. “We are very happy about it.” Which was true, because a baby would give her something to love, and she had such a storehouse of love.
“I’m sure you are.” Webb studied her for another close second, not entirely convinced she was happy with her husband. He couldn’t lay his finger on what it was about Virg Haskell that he didn’t like. Making him foreman was one of the rare times Webb had showed favoritism, solely because of Ruth. He couldn’t fault Haskell on the job he’d done so far. Maybe he’d never regarded Haskell as being good enough for Ruth.
He touched his hat to Ruth and walked out of her house. He would always consider it her house, never Haskell’s. She was the one whose roots went into the land as deeply as his own. Webb knew he could count on her to look after Lilli while he was gone. The knowledge helped to ease his concern about his wife.
Lilli couldn’t recall any time when she’d been so sick. She watched the doctor closely while he made his examination, trying to get some advance warning in case there was something seriously wrong. But his face showed her nothing—so calm and composed, just as it had been when he was treating Stefan.
“I don’t understand it, Doctor—” she began, voicing her confusion and apprehension.
“Simon.” He corrected her with a faint smile.
“I feel fine when I get up in the morning. Then, shortly after lunch, I get sick to my stomach. I’m so dizzy and weak I can hardly stand.” She repeated the symptoms that plagued her. “Is there something you can give me? Some medicine I can take?” She tried to laugh away her fears. “I know Webb is tired of fixing his own supp
er every night.”
“I have a feeling he’d better get used to the idea.” There was almost a twinkle in his eyes when he straightened, his examination evidently concluded.
“What do you mean?” She looked at him uncertainly, afraid to move her head too much in case the dizziness hit her again.
“I strongly suspect that you are going to have a baby,” he informed her with a smile that slowly widened across his face.
“But—” She hardly dared to believe it. All those barren years married to Stefan, she had wondered if she would ever have children despite the doctor’s assurances of her own fertility. “Are you sure?”
“It’s early,” he admitted. “But I’m about as sure as I can be. All the signs point to that. The sickness associated with pregnancy doesn’t always come in the morning. Some women don’t get sick at all.”
Tears filled her eyes. She bit down on her lip, trying to contain the happiness that bubbled in her throat. She reached for the doctor’s hand and squeezed it tightly, unable to express all the emotions that were tumbling through her.
“Is Webb back yet?” Laughter ran through her eager question. “I can hardly wait to tell him.”
“I’ll check with Ruth and see.” He winked. “I think she’s still downstairs,” He stood up, smiling at her, some of his tiredness fading. “If you two women would take some pity on an overworked doctor, you’d have your babies on the same day so I wouldn’t have to make two trips all the way out here to deliver them.”
“We’ll see what we can do about it,” Lilli promised with a laugh and hugged the delicious news to her as Simon Bardolph left the room.
As he reached the top of the stairs, he saw Ruth on her way up. “No need to rush,” he cautioned her against the way she was hurrying. She stopped abruptly.
“You’re needed downstairs, Simon, right away,” she murmured anxiously. “Shorty got in a fight in town. He’s in bad shape. Slim brought him here.”