My Heart Belongs in Ruby City, Idaho

by Susanne Dietze

  Theodore’s eyebrows lowered. “Dottie’s tied up, though, right?”

  “Wilkie says there’s no need to restrain her, because of her injuries, but to be safe, Jeroboam’s sitting with her.” Tad looked askew at Rebecca. “Where’s your dinner?”

  “Oh, I’ll get it now.”

  “You eat this one. If you haven’t had your supper before the dancing starts, you might never eat. Ulysses has plans for you.”

  Sure enough, the first strains of a fiddle pierced the evening air, and even though it was still plenty light, Uncle Giff and Johnny lit the lanterns and lamps on the tables and crates surrounding the dancing area.

  Rebecca hesitated to pick up her fork. “Maybe I should sit with Dottie.”

  “From what I heard, it’s not your night,” he teased. “It’ll be my night, actually. She’s a prisoner. I’ll rest in the office. But try not to worry about Dottie anymore. She’s done enough harm in your life. Don’t let her ruin your Independence Day, too.” Tad sauntered toward the food line.

  “Sorry.” Theodore glanced at his empty plate. “I should have let you eat mine.”

  It seemed they were always saying sorry to one another. “It’s fine, Theodore.” She took a bite of the tender brisket. Delicious. “I—”

  Theodore’s eyes went wide. Rebecca turned.

  Donned in her new dress of rich cobalt blue, Cornelia passed the dancing area, the bell of her skirt swaying with her steps. The tailored bodice accentuated her dainty figure, set off to perfection by the blue-on-blue striped ruffles they’d finished sewing last night. Cornelia had done well with her hair, too, pinning some of the curls atop her head and allowing a few strands to dance over her shoulders in bronze display. She created an impression of a young woman, no schoolgirl, who was ready to start her own life.

  Rebecca turned back to Theodore. “Doesn’t she look lovely?”

  “That’s Corny?”

  Who else would it be? “Do you recognize the fabric? We had so much fun. I should tell her how pretty she looks. Do you mind if I go?”

  He shook his head, still goggling.

  She dashed toward Cornelia, who held out her hands. “Did I do it right? Is it pretty?”

  Rebecca clutched Cornelia’s hands. “You’re gorgeous every day, no matter what you wear or how you style your hair, but yes, you look splendid.”

  Ulysses leapt behind Cornelia, a rosette pinned to one greasy suspender and his wide grin revealing the gaps in his teeth. “Happy Independence Day, ladies.”

  “And to you, Ulysses.” Cornelia grinned.

  “The dancin’ is startin’ up. Would either of you two do me the honor?”

  “I should love to, but I haven’t eaten supper.” Cornelia’s head tipped to the side.

  “That’ll give me time to dance with Miz Rebecca.” He gripped Rebecca’s hand and tugged.

  “I haven’t really eaten, either.” But they were already in line for the reel, men on one side, ladies on the other. The fiddles struck up a familiar old tune, “The Girl I Left Behind Me,” and Ulysses whirled her around.

  It was like trying to dance with popcorn as it bounced in a hot pan, lots of hopping and uncertainty about where she would land, but it was fun. When he bowed like a knight of old at the song’s end, she curtsied. “Thank you, sir.” She meant it.

  She was still smiling while she returned to Theodore’s table and finished her plate. Two girls bought more rosettes for their hair, and once they were gone, Rebecca tipped her head at the dance floor. “Come and dance?”

  “Me? I’m not much of a dancer.”

  “None of us are.” Except maybe Uncle Giff and Mrs. Horner, who moved smoothly through the figures of another dance. Rounding out their set was Johnny and one of the little Evans girls, Eloise with the other, and Cornelia’s parents.

  “I can’t leave the table, but it looks like you have another partner already.”

  She turned. Mr. Orr bowed. “A dance, ma’am?”

  “I’d be honored.” She placed her hand in his large one.

  After dancing with the justice of the peace, Rebecca danced with Ulysses twice more, and then Uncle Giff, Johnny, a few fellows she didn’t know, and both Evans girls before Ulysses collected her again. She spun on his arm until she was dizzy, and when she twirled to a halt, she caught Tad’s laughing eyes glowing in the lamplight. Ulysses saw, too, and beckoned him over as the strains of a waltz began. “Your turn, Deputy.”

  “Thanks, but I shouldn’t. I got shot in the shoulder a while back, you know.” It was a flimsy excuse, but Rebecca appreciated it. Dancing with her husband-who-wasn’t-her-husband wasn’t the best idea.

  “Well, she can’t dance with her fiancé.” Ulysses pointed. “He’s already on the floor.”

  Rebecca twisted. Cornelia had somehow convinced Theodore to leave his wares and dance. Good for her. His posture was stiff as a marionette’s as they stepped back and forth in one-two-three time while other couples twirled around them. Cornelia didn’t seem to mind their lack of movement, laughing with him over their missteps.

  “Mrs. Horner ain’t got no partner.” Ulysses rubbed his hands together and hurried off, leaving Rebecca standing alone with Tad.

  Tad peeked down, his eyes almost black in the lamplight. “You don’t mind?”

  “Not dancing, you mean?”

  “Theodore with Cornelia.”

  “I don’t mind either one,” she answered in all truthfulness. “My toes are sore, and I’m glad he’s enjoying himself.”

  This was perfect, this moment, with the breeze cooling her hot cheeks and lifting her hair from her nape, standing where she could see all the people she cared about enjoying the festivities. Johnny and Eloise Evans stood off to the side, drinking lemonade. Uncle Giff laughed with some menfolk. The Evans girls’ faces were sticky and dirty, but that didn’t diminish from the pure excitement shining from their eyes as Mrs. Croft handed each a paper cone of candy floss.

  Rebecca’s heart swelled inside her chest. She loved Ruby City and the folks who’d made it their home. All of them. Ulysses, Dr. Wilkie, and even Cornelia, who now glowed in the awkward arms of Theodore, for whom Rebecca felt an affection she wasn’t sure how to define, even if things weren’t perfect between them.

  Tad moved behind her, brushing her sleeve—an unintentional touch but one that burned through her skin to her marrow and forced her to acknowledge that her affection for him was not the same as how she felt about the others. She peeked up at him, admiring the warm smile he shared with passersby.

  Why haven’t You taken this from me, God?

  It was a good thing that he’d not be coming to Silver City. Then these feelings would fade, as they always did, and she could focus on her choice to marry Theodore—

  A new figure sashayed through the crowd, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders, a bandage wrapped over the shoulder of that pink confection of a dress Rebecca had liked, swaying to the beat of the waltz.

  Rebecca swiveled back to Tad. “What is Dottie doing here?”

  Tad didn’t hear Rebecca’s words. The music, the chatter, the loud, rapid beating of his heart in his ears because Rebecca stood at his side, her eyes soft and dewy, all drowned out everything but his thoughts about how much he cared for her. The look in her eyes wasn’t sweet anymore, though. It was shocked. He turned to follow her gaze.

  Dottie, who shouldn’t even be upright, much less dancing, circled the dance floor, gripping the fabric of her pink poufy skirt and waving it to and fro so that it fluttered in time with the music. Swaying like that, smiling and cheerful with her hair loose over her shoulders, she looked like she had before she left, a young, carefree lass eager to join in the fun. He’d thought he loved that young woman.

  He’d been a fool then, but he wouldn’t be again. He spared a brief glance for Rebecca. “Pardon me.”

  Dottie wanted to make a scene, didn’t she? Dressing up, nodding in time to the music, sure to be noticed by all of Ruby City as the sweet gal th
ey all remembered. If he hauled her off to the county offices, she’d no doubt scream and cry to the shocked gazes of the townsfolk—all potential members of her jury. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

  That meant keeping his actions casual. His thumbs hooked his belt loops, and he was at Dottie’s side before the final note of the waltz trilled off the bow of the fiddle. “You seem to be feeling better.” She spun, grinning. “I am, yes. Isn’t this grand?”

  “Sure is. Say, Dottie, what are you doing here?”

  She swayed to the music. “Enjoying the party.”

  “I’m not sure it’s appropriate, considering the sheriff placed you under arrest and all.”

  “Oh, pooh. He didn’t mean that sort of arrest.”

  “What kind did he mean, then?”

  “The kind where everyone knows I’m not going anywhere. If I were, why would I be standing here?” She wiggled her fingers in a wave for Ulysses, who waved back.

  “I’ve got a pretty good idea why.”

  “Dance with me, Tad. Just like last year.”

  He’d been right. She wanted to dredge up the past, cause a stir, and give folks the impression of a sweet miss they couldn’t convict. Tad shook his head. “Your renewed vigor is a marvel. To think, just a few hours ago you were too sore to speak.”

  “I had the most refreshing nap. Come on.”

  “Folks might get the wrong idea, though.”

  “Why? You’re not really married.”

  “You are.”

  “Ralph wouldn’t mind.”

  Jealous, bullheaded Ralph? Sure. “What I meant was, if you demonstrate the strength to dance a reel, one might conclude you’re also able to, say, get on a horse and lead us to your husband.”

  “Well, I am a little weary, now that you mention it.”

  Thank You, Lord. “Where’s Jeroboam?”

  “Getting more corn bread. I told him I wouldn’t go anywhere.”

  Sure enough, Jeroboam munched away, plate in hand, not six feet behind them. He nodded at Tad, widening his eyes as if to say he watched Dottie all the while. Tad expelled a sigh. “How’d you convince him to let you out of Pa’s bedroom?”

  “I didn’t. The sheriff said the cell would be ready by eight, and he’d be waiting to lock me in, so I dressed. Jeroboam is escorting me to the jail.”

  “Some escort.” Rebecca appeared at Tad’s elbow, hands fisted on her hips. “He abandoned his duty for second helpings of supper.”

  Johnny moved behind Dottie, his hands flexed as if ready to grip Dottie’s arms.

  Jeroboam joined them, brushing crumbs of corn bread from the stubble on his chin. “Everything all right, Deputy? Dottie wanted to see the fireworks, and I thought it wouldn’t hurt nothin’.”

  Dottie smiled up at him with her head dipped, that innocent look again.

  Rebecca snorted. “The dress is rather festive, Dottie, considering you’re recovering from surgery and you’re going to be confined to an eight-by-six closet.”

  “Tad,” Dottie whined. “That sounds beastly.”

  “So was being robbed by you.” Rebecca folded her arms.

  Tad held up a hand. “Come on, Dottie, let’s go.”

  Dottie tucked her hands under her chin. “Not before the fireworks, Tad. Please?”

  “I think you’ve caused enough fireworks,” Rebecca muttered.

  Dottie’s tight smile evaporated. “Don’t be jealous, Rebecca. Tad isn’t your real husband. You can’t begrudge him showing me a small kindness—”

  “My sister showed you a huge kindness by giving you the opportunity to turn yourself in.” Johnny folded his arms, his posture exactly like Rebecca’s.

  At that moment, a blaze of light appeared overhead. Someone had started the fireworks. Dottie turned her face skyward, her cheeks and neck aglow with gold light from above. Jeroboam looked at her with slavish admiration. Mercy, is that what Tad used to look like when he followed after her like a lost pup?

  “Enough. Dottie, let’s go.” Tad had to shout over the ka-boom of the fireworks and the cheers of the townsfolk.

  “I can take her, Deputy,” Jeroboam protested. “Sheriff told me not to bother you ’cause you’ve had so much on your plate.”

  Had he, now? Tad took a sharp breath of tangy, gunpowder-tinged air. “It’s no bother.”

  Johnny shook his head. “It’d be my privilege to see she’s brought to the sheriff, Tad. You enjoy the fireworks, and you can trust I won’t fall for any tricks.”

  “Thanks, Johnny.” It would give Tad a moment to talk to Rebecca privately. “Jeroboam, I appreciate your help. You can get more to eat now, if you want.”

  Jeroboam wandered back to the food table, his longing gaze fixed on Dottie’s sashaying pink skirt as Johnny led her by the arm to the county offices. Dottie turned back to wave good-bye to Tad and Rebecca.

  Rebecca turned her back to Dottie, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Really, Tad?”

  Tad opened his mouth, but another firework exploded overhead with a resounding boom. They’d never get any talking done here. Everyone’s gazes turned toward the sky, so Tad grasped Rebecca’s hand and tugged.

  “What are you doing?” He couldn’t hear the words, but her mouth moved that way.

  “Getting you somewhere quiet,” he shouted. Her brows still knit in confusion.

  The fireworks weren’t any quieter behind the livery, but the chatter of the crowd wasn’t as loud here. Tad let go of her hand and swiped his suddenly damp hand through his hair. “Why are you so angry?”

  “You have to ask?”

  “Apparently so.”

  Rebecca shook her head, like her thoughts weren’t worth speaking, but then she uttered a mirthless laugh. “Well, for starters, no one in town knows yet that Dottie’s a criminal. Why?”

  He thought he’d answered that. “She needs to be secured behind bars, not only so she’ll be confined, but for her own protection. If folks knew she was in the Gang, someone could take vengeance.”

  “You weren’t in a hurry, though. One look at her in that dress she probably stole, and you sauntered over and chatted instead of hauling her to jail.”

  Tad gulped. He’d left Rebecca with no explanation, but he could remedy that now. “That’s not why I took my time. She wanted me to make a fuss and draw attention. I was determined not to give it to her, so I planned to take her in quietly, and no, I was not going to let her watch the fireworks.”

  Rebecca’s hair turned gold as another shower of sparks glittered overhead, and so did her eyes as they flitted to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. She just sets my teeth on edge. And when I saw you acting all friendly-like, I told Johnny so he’d step in. I hope you don’t mind, but he won’t tell until you’re ready.”

  Pops and crackles sounded as more showers of sparks lit up the sky. “I don’t mind. And don’t ever, for a second, think I’m not long past falling for Dottie’s schemes. I wouldn’t have married you if I wasn’t, and that’s no lie.”

  He only lied to himself, about how much he cared for Rebecca. He told himself all the time this yearning for her would fade, but it hadn’t, and it never would.

  He loved her, and he couldn’t deny it to himself any longer. He wouldn’t stand in the way of her marrying Theodore, because it was what she wanted. It was best for all three of them. But every heartbeat pounded her name.

  He swallowed hard.

  Her gaze caught the jerky motion of his throat. “I know. And she’s married, of course.”

  “So are we.”

  He shouldn’t have said it. His brain scrambled for something to say so she wouldn’t think he was going to fight her on the annulment. “I mean, everything’s been proper. Just like you won’t call yourself engaged to Theodore, I wouldn’t flirt with anybody, because we’re married.”

  After a long moment, he realized she hadn’t protested. She hadn’t said, Not for long, or reminded him of the judge’s eventual return. Tad realized something else, too. She wasn’t immune t
o him; he’d known that from the start. But right now, the way she looked up at him, Tad could believe it was more than that. Maybe it was the reflection of the golden fireworks in her eyes, but they seemed to glow from an inner fire.

  Blasts and pops sounded overhead, one after another, followed by silver and gold shimmers of light, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her to view the display above. If he were free to do it, he’d kiss her just like he did at their wedding. Not that first, tentative kiss, but the second one, the one that burned to the toes of his boots. And then there’d be a third kiss, and a fourth, and he wouldn’t even be counting them anymore by the time he was done.

  Maybe there was a way for them to stay married, after all—

  Pa-whump. The blast sounded different, like some fool miner lit a stick of dynamite as a way to join in the celebration. It happened last year, setting off a rockslide that endangered Longbeard’s camp. Tad should check on him. The timing couldn’t be worse—

  No, the timing was actually perfect. It hurt, stepping back from Rebecca, but he’d be grateful later that he’d put more distance between them. Thank You, God, for saving me from temptation.

  “Sounds like dynamite.” He forced a smile. “I should check.”

  She let out a ragged breath. “I thought a firecracker had gone off close to the ground, the noise was so close.”

  The moment she said it, Tad’s mouth went dry. “You’re right.”

  All the booms and blasts, the pops and crackles, had confused him. So had the wonder in Rebecca’s eyes. But if someone was lighting dynamite in town, they needed a stern talking-to and maybe even a night to cool down in the jail cell with Bowe.

  “What’s that?” She pointed around him, down the back side of the buildings.

  He strained to see in the darkness. Now would be a good time for a firework to explode overhead and illuminate things, but all Tad could make out were lumps on horseback. “Come on.”

  He led Rebecca around the front, not touching her. When they were on the edge of the dance floor, Jeroboam ran toward him, waving a gangly arm. “Deputy, there’s trouble at the bank!”

  The bank wasn’t open for business. Did someone get hurt in front of it, or—