[Dakotah Treasures 01] - Ruby

by Lauraine Snelling

  “You could come west.”

  “We’ve been over that before. This is home, and here we’ll stay.”

  The next morning he had kissed his sister good-bye, shaken his brother-in-law’s hand, and offered them the freedom of the West once more before boarding the train. He hoped his next trip would be to take back the Hereford bull he’d found after visiting several farms up in Illinois.

  Buck stamped a foot and tossed his head, bringing Rand back to the present. On the valley floor a small herd of pronghorn antelope grazed, one buck keeping an eye on the horse and rider. Ponderosa pine trees, junipers, and elderberry and chokecherry bushes lined the draw leading from valley to prairie. He would follow the cattle-and-game trail back down, most likely scaring up a mule deer or perhaps the doe with twin fawns he’d seen a few days before. Riding this range he called home always brought new sights, if nothing more than the way the buttes threw their shadows in the evening or the rising sun highlighted a slash of red stone. The whee whee of a canyon wren sang from the draw. He’d seen them, their tiny tails flicking upright with every motion, almost invisible as they dug in cracks and crevices, searching for insects. There were far fewer birds here than at home.

  Mother would approve of her. The thought jolted him.

  Buck tossed his head, his show of surprise or even resentment at Rand’s movement. Rand knew his mother had only tolerated Isabelle, warning her son more than once that his intended had a roving eye. Hard to admit she’d been right. He patted Buck on the shoulder and murmured an apology. Funny how thoughts could blindside you like that.

  One rifle shot, then another—the universal call for help— echoed across the land. Turning Buck to the left, he headed over the prairie and to the ranch house. What could have happened now?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  May 1882

  Empty rooms. Empty tables. Empty pocketbook.

  Ruby stared at her ledgers. Empty. At least on the income side. She hated to look at the other side. Good thing she couldn’t write in red, or it would look as if someone was bleeding on the pages. How could refurbishing Dove House cost so much money? Although she wasn’t totally out of funds, her resources were dwindling. If only she could find the buksbom. Surely there was more money in that.

  “Ruby!” Opal’s call jerked her out of her stupor.

  She rose and followed the calls to the pantry.

  “Look. Cat caught a mouse.” Cat looked up at them, the half-eaten body clutched between her claws. Cat had become the name because they could not agree on a name for her. Fluffy, Spot, Ghost, Tippy—none of them fit as well as Cat. And besides, she’d quickly learned to come when someone called Cat. It never failed that a treat was waiting for her when she arrived.

  Ruby felt slightly sick at the sight, but one less mouse in the pantry meant one less shock when she opened a cupboard door, although the mouse population had dropped after Charlie boarded up the hole in the cupboard and the other in the floor molding.

  “Charlie says she caught one in the storage room too.” Opal couldn’t have been more proud had she caught the critter herself. “She’s really smart, isn’t she?”

  “I guess.”

  “Well, just think. She figured this out all by herself, even without her mother here to show her how.”

  “I think cats are born knowing how to hunt.”

  “Well, how come people have to be taught to eat and get their food?”

  “I imagine people would eat just fine with their hands. We teach manners and proper ways of doing things so that we can all get along better.”

  “Do you think if we had another cat, they would share?”

  “Have you done your lessons for today?” Sometimes changing the subject helped when the questions got beyond her ability to answer.

  “Well, Bernie didn’t share well. He took Jason’s toys whenever he could.”

  “Your lessons.” And sometimes distractions didn’t work at all.

  A big sigh. “All right. But it’s almost bedtime now.”

  “Opal.” Ruby closed her eyes to calm the words that shouldn’t be said, no matter how good the saying would feel at the time. She’d spent much of the day practicing to be like Mrs. Brandon.

  Belle had tried to talk her out of making her pay for her room—again. Several of the cowboys from area ranches had complained at the changes in Dove House. Cimarron burned her hand on the flat iron. The men who came to play cards tracked in mud from the slick street, due to two days of rain. If allowed to dry, the mud had to be chipped off the floor. Never had she seen such hard stuff in her life. Milly had shown Opal how to slide across the top of the mud, something like skating on ice. After they’d slipped, she’d sluiced them both down with buckets of water on the back porch before allowing them to enter.

  Charlie thought it was funny. She might have too if things weren’t piling up high enough to choke her. Good thing every day wasn’t like this one.

  The next morning Cimarron pulled Ruby aside into the storeroom. “I just want to tell you what I’ve found out.”

  “All right.” Ruby waited, wondering if she should ask where the information came from.

  “I heard that some folks in town have been warning everyone to stay away from Dove House.”

  “Stay away? Why?”

  “So you will go broke and someone can come buy the place cheap.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Who told you?”

  “I better not say.”

  “Is Belle in cahoots with this idea?” Cahoots was a new word she’d learned from Charlie. It seemed to fit well here.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?” Ruby could feel the heat beginning in her midsection, heat she’d felt far too often lately.

  Cimarron tightened her jaw. “Because she’s the one who told me, and if you let on you know, she’ll suspect I told you, and then she won’t never tell me nothing again.”

  Ruby rubbed her tongue against the back of her teeth, thoughts chasing after one another like Cat after her tail in the sunshine.

  Speaking of which, Cat meowed from the top of a box, and when Ruby reached up to pet her, she commenced to purring. “Well, will you listen to that?”

  “She’s getting tamer every day.” Cimarron rubbed under Cat’s chin. “I better go. Charlie is teaching me to make bread this morning. I figured I might as well learn more about cooking too. After all, who knows what the future might bring.”

  “Good for you.” Ruby kept on stroking the cat, the rumble feeling as good beneath her fingers as it pleased her ear. When Cimarron left the room, Ruby dug through a barrel and a crate looking for the box, as she’d come to think of it. Soon, when she ran out of places to look, she’d ask Charlie if he had any idea what box her Far had meant.

  A jingle from the bell over the front door sent her scurrying into the dining room.

  “Good morning.” Captain Jeremiah McHenry pulled off his leather gloves to loop through the belt of his dark blue coat.

  “Good morning, Captain, welcome back. How can I help you?”

  “Are you still serving breakfast?”

  While it was past the hour, Ruby nodded. No matter what time it was, they finally had someone who wanted a meal. “Sit where you like, and I’ll bring in the coffee.”

  His hat lay on the table nearest the kitchen door when she returned, and he was studying the changes in the room.

  “Looks mighty nice in here. Has an entirely different feeling.”

  “Thank you. Charlie is making fresh coffee, so it will be a minute. We have ham and eggs with potatoes and a choice of fresh bread or sweet rolls.” No sense letting him know that the girls drank the extra coffee so as not to waste it. It was better to let him think there had been customers earlier of sufficient numbers to drink it all.

  “Sounds wonderful, especially the sweet rolls.” His smile made her want to make sure her hair was neat, but she kept from fussing with the reminder that
a lady didn’t fidget. This time the voice was her mother’s, and since fidgeting had been a problem for her daughter, she’d repeated the admonition every day, sometimes far more than once.

  “I’ll bring the rolls in.”

  “Could you join me in a cup of coffee?”

  “Why . . . why I suppose so. Is there a problem?”

  “Problem? I don’t believe so.” The look of confusion that flitted across his face told her he had no part in the revolting scheme. But since he came in, of course he didn’t. She scolded herself as she returned to the kitchen. But who could it be? If it wasn’t Belle, then who? That Bill Williams and his cronies? Could be. But who had voiced his disapproval most heartily?

  That rancher—Rand Harrison, that’s who! The certainty burst in her mind like a gunshot. She set the rolls on a plate and returned to the dining room.

  “You said Charlie was making coffee. Is he your cook?” At her nod the captain shook his head with a chuckle. “He is most certainly a man of many talents.”

  “He’s a far better cook than I am.” Ruby held the plate of rolls out for him to help himself.

  “I wanted to come by and tell you again how sorry I am on the death of your father.” He bit into the roll and nodded. “Very good.”

  “Thank you.” She took a roll and broke off a small bite.

  “I hear you are from New York?”

  “Yes, and you?”

  “Ohio. I joined up on my seventeenth birthday in the final days of the war. My mother wouldn’t allow it before then. I’d just joined my father as an adjutant when he was wounded during the siege of Petersburg. He died a few weeks later.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that.” She glanced up when Daisy arrived with the coffeepot and filled both their cups. “Thank you, Daisy.”

  “Your breakfast will be right out, sir.” Daisy kept her gaze down, as Ruby had instructed her, and returned to the kitchen.

  “How’d you find any young woman like that to work for you out here?”

  He doesn’t recognize her. The thought pleased her. Perhaps Cimarron could serve the tables too—no, Cimarron’s red hair would give her away anywhere. And once anyone heard her laugh, they’d never forget it. But Daisy . . . Her new look along with a name change had made her unrecognizable. If what she’d heard about the lack of women out here was really true, perhaps some man would fall in love with Daisy and . . . Within heartbeats, Ruby had the story all worked out. Now if only life would help instead of hinder.

  “Ah, here comes your meal. I hope it meets with your approval.” And I hope you will tell everyone you know that the food here is the best. Best of what she wasn’t sure, but something needed to happen soon if they were to stay in business.

  “Sure beats military grub,” he said after a few bites.

  “How long have you been stationed here?”

  “Two years.” He took another roll. “I was stationed at Fort Laramie in Wyoming Territory before coming here.”

  “So you know the local people well?”

  “Most of them.”

  Ruby argued with herself for a few moments. Would he be loyal to his friends, if that’s what they were, or would he be honest? “Your family must enjoy being closer to a real town again.”

  He paused, set his fork down, and wiped his mouth with the napkin. “My ma and brothers and sister are still in Ohio. I thought of bringing Ma out, but this is still frontier country, and she likes having her family around.”

  So he’d say if he were married. But, still, I want to know about the folks here. “I have a question to ask if you don’t mind.”

  “No, I don’t mind, but I’ll make it easy for you. I’m not married and never have been.”

  Her face flamed in a flash. “Pardon me?”

  “Oh. Miss Torvald, please forgive me for my . . . my . . .”

  Rudeness, presumption, ego, even if she had thought—oh, bosh. She didn’t help him out but stared at her hands and wished for a fan, a breeze, cold water, anything to cool the heat. She took a sip of her coffee and finally looked back at his face. Good, he was as uncomfortable as she. Served him right.

  “I was going to ask you for advice.” At his now composed nod, she continued. “It has come to my attention that someone in the vicinity has requested or suggested that no one eat or stay at Dove House so that I will be forced to sell, supposedly at a greatly reduced price. Do you have any idea who that might be? The ‘why’ I can understand, since whoever this person might be would like to return Dove House to its former mode of business.”

  “Ah, I see.” He drank from his coffee cup, staring at nothing, clearly running names through his mind. “Williams wouldn’t have the money. He’s always cash poor. Not Maunder’s way of doing things. He’d cuss or cut you to death instead. Belle?”

  “That was my first thought too, since she assumed Dove House would be hers when my father died.”

  The captain shook his head. “I can’t see it being any of the ranchers. You considered someone outside of the area, like from Dickinson or Bismarck?”

  “I hardly know anyone in town, let alone those places.”

  Daisy returned with the coffeepot. “Would you like refills?”

  The captain smiled at her as he raised his cup. “Daisy, is it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, thank you kindly, Miss Daisy. And tell Charlie he makes a great breakfast.”

  “I will. You are most welcome, sir.” She turned and scurried back to the kitchen.

  Ruby caught him staring after her.

  “She looks vaguely familiar. Where did you say you found her?”

  “I didn’t. She found me. So can you think of anyone else who might be involved?”

  “Not off the top of my head, but if someone comes to mind, I’ll let you know.”

  “Would you like more to eat?”

  “Gracious, no.” He drained his coffee and leaned back with a sigh. “It’s been a long time since I had breakfast with a lovely young woman.”

  Again the heat flared. “You are most kind, sir.”

  “I was wondering if you might like to see more of our country? I haven’t forgotten my promise to your sister that I would bring a horse by for her. Do you ride?”

  “No, but both my sister and I are willing to learn.”

  “Your sister is how old?”

  “Nine, but as she reminds me, almost ten. She dreams nightly of riding a horse and has suggested we have plenty of room behind the hotel to pasture said animal should I be willing to purchase one for her.”

  “She sounds like my little sister when we were growing up. She became quite a horsewoman.” He leaned slightly toward her. “So am I understanding correctly—if I brought two gentle horses by, both of you would be willing to learn to ride so I could show you the country? We don’t have too many roads for a buggy or wagon.”

  “I see.” Ruby thought of Opal’s coming delight. “Yes, Captain, we would be most happy to ride with you.”

  “I don’t have sidesaddles. They aren’t exactly army issue.”

  “Oh.”

  “Women around here, what few there are, wear divided skirts.”

  “Divided skirts?” What am I getting myself into?

  “You haven’t seen pictures of them?”

  “No.”

  “Sometimes they are made of leather.”

  “Leather?” What do I do with all my petticoats? I can’t ask him things like this. There came that heat up the neck again. Mrs. Brandon, what would you do now?

  “I’ll work something out. Thank you for the invitation.” She pushed her chair back. “We’ll see you tomorrow then?”

  “Yes, for breakfast, and unless it is raining, we’ll ride. That’s thirty-five cents, right?”

  “Yes.” Should she say it was on the house since he volunteered to take them riding?

  He handed her a dollar. “That nice little waitress deserves a good tip.”

  Ruby swallowed her immediate response of “no
.” If he wanted to tip the waitress, that was his choice. After showing him out the door and making change from the cashbox, she whirled around to head for the kitchen.

  “See, you knead this way,” Charlie was explaining to Daisy as Ruby burst through the door.

  “Does anyone in this house have a divided skirt for riding a horse?”

  Cimarron looked up from her sewing by the window. “I think Belle does. She and Per used to ride. Why?”

  “Captain McHenry wants to teach Opal and me how to ride tomorrow morning.”

  “Ride? Me?” Opal dropped the plate she was washing back in the water. “I get to ride a horse?”

  “Looks that way.” Ruby oomphed as she caught Opal running full tilt to hug her. The change in her hand bounced on the floor.

  “Oh, thank you, thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. Save that for the captain—not that you will thank him the same way, right?”

  “Right.” Opal squeezed even harder. “I get to ride a horse. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.”

  Ruby broke free and picked up the coins. She laid them on the table. “Captain McHenry said this tip is for you, Daisy, for doing such a nice job.”

  Daisy stopped kneading the bread and gaped at Ruby. “For me? Really? All of it?”

  “Of course. Why?”

  “Well, Per took half . . . I mean . . .” She stared at her hands, then back at Ruby. “Sorry.”

  “That’s all right. It’s yours.” Ruby shook her head as if shaking off a fly.

  “All right, tell me about divided skirts. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  Cimarron put down the napkin she was hemming. “You and Belle aren’t too different in size, if the waist is a bit big—”

  “I thought we were talking about a skirt, not a waist.”

  “We are.” Patience colored her words gently, but her smile was a teaser. “I mean the waistband. And if I remember right, Belle’s is made of real soft leather, both skirt and jacket, beaded with a leather fringe. Per had a jacket like it. I wonder what happened to that jacket? Humph.” She thought for a moment. “Wonder when I saw them last? But then Belle don’t get rid of nothing, so we might find them. I could take one of Opal’s skirts and remodel it for her.”