by Kari Trumbo
Beau yanked off his hat and tossed it onto a table. Turning the ceramic cup face up to signal he’d like some coffee, he scanned the room to find Mable, the shop owner. She wasn’t in sight, so he tapped the table with his finger to get her attention, wherever she was. His eyes swept the room only to find the dark blue eyes of Ruby staring at him as she tentatively made her way toward him.
She wore her hair up loosely, her deep red curls shining in the sunlight from the front window. Her bright white apron cinched neatly around her small waist showed off gently rounded hips. He closed his eyes then opened them again, reminding himself to look back up at her face. She tilted her head to the side and held up the coffee carafe.
“Would you like coffee or tea, Mr. Rockford?” She whispered, her strangely polished voice shaking slightly.
He leaned closer to her and smiled, hoping it’d calm her nerves. “It’s no secret I’m a coffee drinker, never could stomach that English stuff.”
A shadow of a smile teased her top lip as she poured the fragrant black coffee into his cup. “Would you like anything else, sir?”
His shoulders slumped and he reached for his heart feigning a sulk. “Sir? Am I that old? Mr. Rockford if you must, but Beau’d be even better.”
One side of her mouth quirked, almost a win. “Would you like a scone, Mr. Rockford?”
He shook his head. “You sound different. What’s wrong with the way you talk?” He leaned back and regarded her, wishing she’d go back to being the Ruby he’d talked with at the wedding. She took a step back and her face fell as she glanced over her shoulder.
When she turned back to him, the pinched lines of her face tore at him. “Martha doesn’t like the way I talk. She gave me a list of things to learn to say and I’m not supposed to say anything else. She says I sound too…I don’t know the words she used.” Her cheeks reddened to match her hair.
He sighed, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. It wasn’t his affair. If Martha wanted to run that kind of business, it should be her choice, but that didn’t mean he had to agree with it.
“I’m sorry to hear that. If I can’t get you to talk with me, then, I think this’ll do just fine. Thank you, Miss Gresham.”
A darkness settled over her as she wandered off to another table. Her careful speech drifted across the room, sharp to his ears. He’d liked Ruby’s frank way of speaking.
Since she’d found a job, did that mean she’d be staying in Cutter’s Creek? He furrowed his brows and released his cup to drum his fingers on the table. He’d have to see if he could find her family the next time he went to Yellow Medicine. If she had been kidnapped, they might miss her as much or more than she missed them. If she were with family, she could talk any way she wanted to.
In a few weeks, the snow would pile so deep in the higher elevations that delivering anything, even with Josiah’s ox cart, would be difficult. Ruby had probably thought ahead and taken the job to stay through the winter. She could go home after that, and if he was still here, he’d offer to take her. A heaviness pressed on his chest. He shook his head to clear his thoughts then donned his hat. He dug a few coins out of his pocket and left them on the table; for the coffee and for Ruby.
He strode past the Hanover house and back a few houses to his father’s small shaker-box home. His father, Marshal, sat in front of the fire, wrapped in a quilt. “May? Is that you?” his glassy eyes searched the doorway.
Beau sighed and hung his hat on the peg by the door. “No, Pa. It’s Beau. You sent May to live in Maine with your sister, remember?”
“What?” he rasped, holding his hand to his ear. “Speak up and stop mumbling. You’re always mumbling. Can’t hear a word out of your mouth. Go get May and tell her to make me some of that soup she’s so good at.”
“I can’t do that. She’s not here,” Beau said, standing in front of his father.
The old man sat back in the chair and took a harsh breath. “This cold will be the death of me. Stoke up the fire, Beau, will you?”
The room was already roasting but he knew better than to question his father. He spread out the glowing coals and put a few more logs on. He took off his coat and hung it up next to his hat, the room was now so warm he certainly didn’t need it.
There was an unopened letter on the table. He’d gotten it two days ago, but the name on the front had been marred by the damp snow and he didn’t know who it was from. Uncertainty ate at him. He didn’t know if it were for him or his father. If it were for his father, he wanted to respect his father’s privacy. But if it were for him… He couldn’t wait any longer.
He tore the end off of the envelope and pulled out the small sheet of paper. It was folded neatly and thin enough to see through. The script was neat and clipped, but not familiar.
October 1, 1892
Dear Beauford,
I’m writing chiefly to make you aware that Aunt Cici is about to be remarried and is no longer desirous of my company. I will be coming home on the train as soon as you are able to wire the fare. She has been a dear and is quite sad to see me go, but at her age, she wants to enjoy the freedom she now has without worrying about seeing to me or showing me off to society, which I detest at any rate.
I miss you and father terribly. My studies here have been pleasant. Though, I know, I will never in all likelihood find work at a law firm in Cutter’s Creek. At least I can say I completed my training and can, therefore, hold my own.
I must keep this short, please wire the necessary funds or send the train ticket along with your reply at your earliest convenience.
Respectfully yours,
Maybell Rockford
Beau blinked down at the words and groaned. May was too smart for her own good; could talk her way out of just about anything, and was adept at hearing everything she shouldn’t but missing everything she should. There was no way father could keep an eye on her. Most of the time he didn’t even remember he was still in Cutter’s Creek. Beau dug into his cigar box on the mantle and took out a little of the money he’d been saving. He shoved it into his vest pocket. If she needed a ticket he’d better get it to her.
Now, he might not have a choice about staying in town. He hated the idea of being cooped up in Cutter’s Creek all winter long, but having May here would mean he’d have to.
He tossed on his coat and hat, and stomped back out of the cabin, slamming the door behind him. The mercantile was only a few blocks away and he could take care of this chore quickly. He entered and waited for Holston to finish with a fabric order for Carol Williams. He turned away from the counter and tried to avoid her, the woman was never quiet. She daintily cleared her throat and he turned back, groaning to himself. She’d never let him alone.
Carol sashayed up to him and laid her gloved hand on his arm. “Why, there you are, Beau Rockford. Wherever have you been? I haven’t seen you come around half as much, now that Josiah is married.” She stuck her bottom lip out a little, licking it slowly.
“Miss Williams.” He nodded his head to her and backed away, letting her hand fall off his arm. He moved forward toward Holston.
Carol stepped in his way. “If you aren’t busy, you should come over tonight. I’m making a lovely dish for father. I’ve not gotten used to only cooking for the two of us so you’d be more than welcome.” Her eye lashes danced up and down.
Beau backed against the counter. “Thank you, kindly. But, I need to take care of dinner for my Pa.” He pulled the money from his pocket.
“Are you sure? I could send a bowl home with you for your father. It’d be no trouble at all.” She leaned against him.
Beau moved over and she lost her balance for a moment, groping for the counter.
“Sorry, Miss Williams. I really do need to finish my business here and get back to my Pa. He’s not feeling well.” His neck grew warm under her narrowed eyes. He was sure Holston laughed at him behind the counter. He just couldn’t handle attention from Carol, or just about any woman. He felt ill-equipped, as if neither his
brain nor his tongue worked quite right.
He shook his head and regarded Holston, pushing the money forward. “I need to wire some money to my sister in Maine. The bank says you have the only working telegraph in town and that you’d know what to do.”
Holston took the money and counted it, finally glancing up to meet his gaze. Laughter brightened the other man’s face. They both turned as the bell over the door chimed Carol’s exit. “You actually handled her well. She’s a bit eager.”
The receding heat came back full-force. “She just don’t take no for an answer.”
“I’ll get this taken care of for you right away, Beau. Is May coming home?”
Beau nodded. “Looks that way.” He tipped his hat and went back out into the cold.
The sign above the boarding house caught his eye. ‘Fresh hot soup. Every day!’ “Well, looks like something is finally going my way today.” He said aloud, adjusting his course to the large house on the corner.
4
Ruby dropped the last of the cups in the soapy water and rolled up her sleeves to wash them. She’d worked hard her entire life, but this job just didn’t fit. Martha had been nagging her all day, even when it seemed she’d done nothing wrong. Martha needed someone after Penny got married and quit, so Ruby taking the job seemed perfect at the time. It was obvious now, though, that Ruby couldn’t fill Penny’s shoes.
Martha entered the room, clanking more cups together. “Ruby…I’ve had a few people complain…again. We call it coffee, dear, not belly wash, black water, or…,” She winced, “brown gargle.”
“Martha, I’m sorry, I—”
Martha held up her hand for quiet. “We serve bacon and eggs in the morning, not overland trout and cackleberries.” The word dripped from her mouth like drool from a dog.
Ruby shook her head and dried her hands. “I’ll hang up my apron. Thank you kindly for letting me try. I…guess I’m just not cut out for this work.”
Martha’s forehead creased and she crossed her small arms. “I’m sure there’s something you can do where you don’t have to talk, but it just isn’t here. I counted out your pay and left it by the till, good evening.” Martha dunked her hands into the water as Ruby went for her coat.
Since staying with the Hanovers would’ve been strange after Penny left, she’d moved in with Lily. But now she’d have no way to pay her share of the rent.
She trudged across the street to old Mrs. Cahill’s where she and Lily rented a room upstairs. Ruby found Lily sitting in the window, reading.
“Oh Ruby, you’re home a little early, good. James and I are going out tonight to plan our wedding. We’re thinking spring, that way David’ll be about a year old so we can include him. Won’t that be wonderful?” Her eyes had a faraway glaze over them and Ruby knew she wasn’t expected to answer.
She dropped down on her bed and tucked her skirts around her legs, hugging her knees. What in the world could she do now? Going home was certainly not an option, despite what Beau had said. At least he’d never be able to find her family with the name she’d given him. There were no Greshams in Yellow Medicine, and no one in Cutter’s Creek knew she’d been an Arnsby. She didn’t want Beau to ever get near her family, either. Pa wasn’t one to mess with; the only one who could tangle with Pa was Ma. And even Ma couldn’t keep him from tossing Ruby out when the time had come.
Lily laid her hand on Ruby’s arm and she flinched.
“Ruby? Is something wrong?” Lily sat next to her on the bed. “I’ve been talking, but I don’t think you heard me? I was asking if you wanted to be part of my wedding?”
Ruby shook her head. “Oh, I’m sorry Lily. I just don’t know. I didn’t do well at Penny’s wedding. I wouldn’t want to ruin yours, too.”
Lily smiled then laughed. The tenderness Lily exuded made her want to run; there was always something behind a kindness, something you should avoid like a sickness.
“You did no such thing. While I don’t know what happened, because you left the room, it wasn’t as if you had an episode in front of everyone…like I did.”
Ruby’s head popped up. “You? But you always say the right thing and act with manners and such. I don’t.”
“I stood up at James’s first wedding because I was imagining it was me he was marrying.” Her lovely eyebrow arched. “Can you top that for embarrassing?”
“I lost my job today because I don’t talk like everyone else in town.”
Lily scoffed and shook her head. “That isn’t your fault, Ruby. Martha’s so used to having Penny in there she doesn’t remember what it’s like to train someone new. Penny has worked there ever since her family moved back from Pleasant Valley.”
“I heard tell they might be going back.”
Lily nodded. “All of that is speculation. The Hanovers don’t share anything with people until they’re sure, because they’re opposed to gossip. I’m sure we’ll know when we’re supposed to know. Now, about the wedding…”
Ruby shook her head. “I don’t want no part of another wedding. I’m sorry, but I just don’t see no reason to hitch your wagon to a man if you don’t have to.”
Lily patted her arm. “Just wait, Ruby. Someday you’ll meet a man that’ll make your heart ache from wanting to be with him. He’ll say just the right things in just the right way, and you’ll feel, from your head to your toes, that nothing will be right unless you’re with him.”
“If your heart hurts, take some ginger water and lay down for a spell. Don’t go getting hitched. Makes no sense to me.”
Lily smiled and a twinkle lit her eyes. “You know, Ruby, the Moore family is looking for a nanny for little Malcom. You could be yourself, because he’s just a baby, and you’d be able to help a family. Mrs. Moore isn’t feeling well and Heath Jr. works all day. You’d be such a benefit to them.”
Ruby turned away. “I don’t know. If the people of Cutter’s Creek didn’t like me pouring their coffee I can’t imagine they’d want me anywhere near their babes.”
“Well, you never know until you ask. You’ll have to find something.” Lily gathered her reticule and pulled the key from it, handing it to Ruby. “I won’t need this as I’ll probably get home in the evening. You might want to go check with the Moores.”
Ruby grabbed the key and waited until the door clicked shut behind Lily. Alone again. She’d been alone for five long months after her husband passed away. Course, that might be counted as her fault, too. Her husband had always managed to consume enough of her father’s hooch to be as worthless as a holey nappy every night. For the whole eleven months that she’d been married, she’d never once slept anywhere but the rocking chair. She’d gotten up before her husband every morning leaving her husband never the wiser.
One night, it had been bitter cold and he’d run out of drink before he could drown himself as usual. He’d gone out to get more and hadn’t come home. That wasn’t rare but always a blessing. The next morning, she’d found him leaning against a nearby tree, cradling his bottle, frozen solid. She’d been shocked he could freeze since she was sure more alcohol ran through his veins than blood.
She should feel sorry, but she couldn’t. Her husband had tormented her from the moment she’d laid eyes on him until the moment she’d rolled him into a ravine, never to be seen again. Part of her wished she’d taken the time to burn down the old shack they lived in. Sure as shooten’ she’d never offer to go back.
The room closed in around her as she considered what Lily had said. There weren’t many jobs for her. The Silver Dollar Inn might let her work there, but they also might have the same issue with her Mable had at the Sweet Shoppe.
I wonder who Beau will get his coffee from now.
Ruby pulled on her wool coat, slipping the key in her pocket. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to the Moore family. If she were turned away, she’d take that as a sign from God that she had to go back to Yellow Medicine…and to her family.
5
Cutter’s Creek, Montana
Ear
ly December, 1892
Beau stuffed his hands into his pockets, slowly shifting his weight from one frozen foot to the other. He’d spent a month working in Yellow Medicine and only returned to Cutter’s Creek last night. Not a single person he’d talked to in Yellow Medicine had heard of Ruby, and the only Gresham anyone had heard of was an old drunk no one had seen in months.
He scratched his chin and tipped his head to the sky as flurries, then snow, pelted him. He’d known a storm was coming. The weather had changed rapidly and he hoped his sister’s train would arrive soon. If it was delayed, she wouldn’t have the money for lodging. He stretched his neck to see around the small train platform and spied a puff of steam in the distance, as the engine traveled the trail cut through the foothills.
Beau was exhausted but wound up, he didn’t like being stuck in town when his body and mind ached to be anywhere else—but he couldn’t just leave Pa, though. Beau needed someone to watch out for him. May would just have to agree to stay home with Pa. Beau was itching to get away; he’d been ready to cut ties with Cutter’s Creek for some time. But then, who’d watch May? He wished he knew the answer. He shook the snow from his hat and waited.
The train rumbled to a stop at the platform and Beau waited for May to make her appearance. He grumbled, ready to quit the train station and get somewhere warm. He’d already been waiting for May long enough. She’d left Maine a month ago, and had been traveling by rail to get home before the winter weather hit.
Just as he began wondering what she’d look like after a month confined to a train, his boisterous, dark-haired sister stepped onto the platform. She wasn’t alone, though. She was walking arm-in-arm with a man in a tailored suit, neither the worse for wear.
Beau approached the pair and she released her companion’s arm, throwing her heavy muff at him, and bounding into Beau’s arms, almost toppling him.