Opal

by Lauraine Snelling

  ‘‘Opa!’’ Per tried pushing away from the table and banged against his chair back when he couldn’t move. His mother had tied the belt tight enough. ‘‘Opa-a.’’ He raised his arms, reaching for her, pleading for his freedom.

  ‘‘I’ll be right back. Just a minute.’’

  His wail followed her out the door.

  Ruby placed the last of the slices in the frying pan and crossed to her whimpering son. His lower lip protruded, and he squeezed his eyes to force a tear, much against its will.

  She dropped a kiss on his thistledown hair. ‘‘Big boy, Per. Eat your toast.’’

  He sniffed and dug in his lap for the treat, then waved it at her when he found it.

  Ruby returned to the stove to turn the sizzling meat, grateful the meat fragrance didn’t force her to make a run to the outside, as she’d done so many mornings a few weeks ago. Thanks for reminding me, Lord, of one more thing to be grateful for.

  Rand and the hands came in through the back door and took their places at the table.

  ‘‘Start with the oatmeal.’’

  Little Squirrel nodded and gave the kettle an extra stir before ladling the cereal into the bowls stacked to warm on the reservoir.

  ‘‘Let’s say grace.’’ Rand paused while Opal slid into her chair. ‘‘Father in heaven, let us ever be thankful for all you have given us, for home and health and the work we love. Thank you, and bless this food and the hands that so lovingly prepared it. Grant us this day an opportunity to grow in grace. Amen.’’

  What did he mean by that? Ruby pondered her husband’s words as she beat the eggs after cracking them in the bowl. An opportunity to grow in grace today? Had the others heard what she did? She’d have to ask him later.

  ‘‘Opal said she’d help in the house, so we can leave shortly.’’ Rand dropped the information like a pebble into a pool of water.

  ‘‘But I—’’ Ruby glanced up in time to catch a raising of his eyebrows and a slight tilt of his head, a sign that he was prepared to fight for what he’d said.

  Lord, how do I get it all done today? Opal hates housework, and I can’t say as I blame her. I’d rather be outside today too.

  So you have the opportunity. Take it. The gentle voice contained a hint of scolding and a heap of reminder. Rand had plenty of work to do today too, and yet he’d rather take her for an outing.

  She swallowed her denial and, after a deep breath, nodded. ‘‘I’d love to go. Thank you, Opal.’’ And you, her eyes shouted down the table to her husband.

  The look he sent back made her insides mush up. Reminders of his love did that to her.

  When they finished eating, Rand gave out the orders for the day to the men, and they all pushed back from the table.

  ‘‘You need firewood?’’ Linc asked.

  ‘‘Both here and at the washtub, thank you.’’

  ‘‘I put diapers on to boil.’’ Little Squirrel looked to Opal.

  ‘‘I’ll start with the dishes. Per can help me churn on the back porch,’’ Opal said.

  ‘‘The beans need picking too. Let’s dry this last batch for britches and then the rest can go for shelled beans.’’ Ruby set the dishes in the pan.

  ‘‘You want to hang them on the strings on the porch?’’ Opal fetched a wet cloth and wiped Per’s hands and face, something he liked about as much as getting his diaper changed. ‘‘Hold still, you squirmer, you.’’

  ‘‘Ma-a.’’

  ‘‘I’m not helping you. Be good for Opal.’’ Ruby stopped to hug Opal as she went by. ‘‘Yes, just dry them on the strings, and thank you.’’

  ‘‘You’re welcome. Have fun.’’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘‘Even though I know you’d rather take the wagon than ride.’’

  Ruby winked at Opal, now as tall as she was. ‘‘Won’t be much longer that I can do this, and it makes Rand happy.’’

  ‘‘You could go fishing.’’

  ‘‘You could can beans too.’’

  ‘‘Just thought I’d suggest it.’’ Opal raised her eyebrows and half shrugged.

  Ruby laughed to herself as she headed to her bedroom to change into the leather divided skirt she’d gotten from Belle. So what if she couldn’t button the waist. It would still stay up.

  Rand had the horses ready at the hitching post in front of the house when she stepped outside.

  ‘‘I have our dinner.’’ He held up the saddlebags before he slung them over Buck’s back and tied them in place.

  ‘‘I need to say good-bye to Per.’’

  ‘‘He’s busy out with Opal. Why not leave him be?’’

  Ruby thought a moment. ‘‘I can’t do that.’’ What if something happened to me, to us, and— She cut off that line of thinking and hurried through the house. The dishes steamed in the dishpan on the stove, evidence that Opal had left to do something else.

  Can I depend on her? Of course I can. When Opal gives her word, she lives up to it. A thought stopped her in midstep. I’ve never left Per before. I could take him with us. He would love to go. He loves to ride. She half turned to go ask Rand, then changed her mind. Would this be harder on Per or her?

  What if something happens to me? This thought returned on the attack, sharper than the first time. After all, danger lurked everywhere out here in Dakotah Territory. As if it didn’t in New York.

  She had asked for a break one day, and now, when it came, she was dithering like a sheet on the clothesline set to dancing and flapping in the wind.

  ‘‘Come on, Ruby, the horses are getting restless.’’ Rand’s call made her smile again. Of course, the horses were getting restless because he was.

  Taking herself firmly in hand, she stepped through the back door to see Opal coming from the springhouse, a bucket of cream to dump in the churn in one hand and Per’s little fist in her other. She was telling him something, and he smiled up at her like the sun rose on his Opa. Little Squirrel had the fire going under the washtub and was carrying another bucket of water from the well.

  Bees buzzed in the rosebush by the step. Ghost looked up from her nest in the shade of the rose, checked her charge, and lay back down with a sigh. Of contentment? All was well.

  Ruby nodded and stepped off the porch to meet Opal and Per. ‘‘Bye. We’ll be back before supper.’’ She stooped over and kissed Per on top of the head. ‘‘You be good.’’

  He nodded. ‘‘Good.’’

  ‘‘Thank you, I think.’’ She shrugged as she looked at Opal.

  ‘‘We’ll be fine. Go play.’’ Opal nodded toward the churn. ‘‘Open that for me, would you please, and then get out of here before Rand comes after you.’’

  Within minutes Ruby found herself settling into a gentle jog as her horse carried her toward the trail up the east bank of the Little Missouri River. Rand reached for her hand and grinned at her, the broad brim of his hat shading his eyes but unable to dim the love shining there.

  ‘‘Thanks for coming.’’

  ‘‘Thanks for making me.’’

  ‘‘You’re welcome.’’

  She’d forgotten how much she could enjoy a ride with Rand. He pointed out the cattle gathered under the shade of an ancient oak tree, placidly chewing their cuds while keeping a watchful eye on the riders. He showed her a ledge where an eagle had her nest, the young already fledged and flying free. They both laughed when a covey of grouse burst from the brush with a whir of wings, startling them. He showed her the entry to a fox den that was nearly hidden by a thicket of bushes.

  When they stopped for an early dinner, the sun had yet to reach its zenith, but she was more than ready to dismount.

  ‘‘I don’t know how you men ride all day and are still able to walk without staggering.’’ She clutched his arm after trying one step.

  ‘‘Take it easy. You’ll be fine in no time.’’ He left her to stand while he pulled off the saddles and bridles and hobbled the two horses. Then he guided her to the shade of an ancient cottonwood with bark ridges so deep on the
trunk that one could bury a finger in them. ‘‘Sit here.’’ He spread the saddle blankets while he spoke.

  ‘‘I’ll stand, thank you.’’

  ‘‘Suit yourself.’’ He crossed his ankles and sat with such easy grace she laughed.

  ‘‘I don’t know how you do that.’’

  ‘‘Do what?’’

  ‘‘Sit down cross-legged like that.’’

  He shrugged. ‘‘Easy.’’ Patting the blanket beside him, he smiled up at her. ‘‘Come, be comfortable.’’

  ‘‘May I lean against you?’’ She eyed the tree trunk he leaned against. ‘‘That looks too rough for comfort.’’

  ‘‘You may lean on me anytime and for all time.’’

  Her gaze caught on his and refused to let go. The flutter in her middle had nothing to do with the baby, but came along with a warmth she’d come to recognize as her loving response to this man. Sometimes she wondered at the strength of it. After all, they’d been married three years now. But all such thoughts flew up to join the birds as she nestled into the curve of his arm.

  ‘‘Are you hungry?’’ She glanced over at the saddlebags.

  ‘‘Not for food.’’

  ‘‘Rand, someone might come by.’’

  ‘‘Not here. See how secluded we are.’’

  ‘‘You planned for this?’’ Her voice squeaked on the last word. No others were needed.

  Some time later he lay with his head in her lap, staring up at the canopy of sun-speckled leaves. ‘‘You know what?’’

  ‘‘No, what?’’

  ‘‘We’ve never done this before.’’

  ‘‘I know.’’ She could feel her cheeks flaming all over again.

  ‘‘Picnics with just the two of us should happen more often.’’

  ‘‘I couldn’t agree more.’’ She reached for the saddlebags. ‘‘But now I am hungry.’’ She batted his shoulder, laughter dancing in the sun motes. ‘‘Aren’t you?’’

  ‘‘Ravenous.’’

  ‘‘Ah, Rand, how I love you.’’

  ‘‘Good.’’ He swung himself to a sitting position. ‘‘Let’s keep it that way.’’

  They ate their sandwiches, tossing a bit of bread to a curious sparrow. Conversation roamed like the cattle on the plains, grazing here, trailing there.

  She’d put things back in the saddlebag when she glanced over to see him watching her. ‘‘What?’’

  ‘‘I think there is something else we need to talk about.’’

  ‘‘Oh-oh. Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?’’

  Rand rubbed his upper lip under his mustache. ‘‘Opal came to me the other day.’’

  ‘‘Why to you?’’

  ‘‘She was asking for help in how to bring up something with you. She hates to upset you. You know that.’’

  ‘‘I knew I wasn’t going to like it.’’

  ‘‘She heard that Mr. Finch has returned to teach school again this fall.’’

  ‘‘Oh, rot.’’ Ruby sighed and studied the black beetle strolling the horse blanket, catching a foot in the coarse weave, shaking free, and continuing. Why did her sister so often make her feel like that beetle? ‘‘She has to go to school.’’

  ‘‘No, she doesn’t. She’s completed the requirements through eighth grade, and Mr. Finch makes her help with the younger children instead of teaching her and the older girls.’’

  ‘‘Then we need to talk with him, explain that they aren’t there to teach but to learn.’’

  ‘‘I don’t think it’s that easy.’’

  ‘‘Rand, are you taking her side?’’ She bit back the ‘‘again.’’ While she tried to keep the steel from her voice, she knew she’d failed when his eyes narrowed.

  ‘‘I’m not taking sides. I told her she has to talk with you, but I do see her point.’’

  ‘‘See, I told you.’’ Ruby huffed and wrapped her arms around her knees. ‘‘Do you realize that the only times you and I get upset with each other are when we talk about my little sister?’’

  ‘‘She’s not so little.’’

  ‘‘That has nothing to do with it.’’

  ‘‘It has everything to do with it. As far as I can see, she’s old enough and smart enough to be making more of her own decisions.’’ ‘‘I wonder if you would be so understanding if she were your younger sister. School is important.’’

  ‘‘Not if you’re not learning anything.’’ His voice had gone softer, a sure indication he was fighting to keep his temper.

  ‘‘I think we better head on back.’’

  ‘‘If you insist. But I don’t know why we can’t have a discussion without you getting all hot under the collar.’’

  ‘‘Me!’’ Ruby surged to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. ‘‘I’ll have you know, Mr. Harrison, that I’m not hot under the collar. My collar is just fine. You’re the one who is not listening to reason.’’

  Rand saddled the horses while she stamped around the small clearing, murdering ants and any other small critters caught in the grass.

  She started to mount when he put a hand on hers on the saddle horn. ‘‘Okay, I have no idea how else I could have handled this, so can we agree on one thing?’’

  Ruby chewed her bottom lip. I hate being angry at you. She rested her forehead against his arm. ‘‘What?’’

  ‘‘That I love you, and you love me, and no matter what, we can figure out solutions to problems.’’

  ‘‘Oh, Rand, this has nothing to do with loving you. I just want what’s best for Opal.’’

  ‘‘And you think I don’t?’’

  His question stopped her in midbreath. ‘‘No, of course not. I mean, of course you do. Oh, Rand, I always wanted her to graduate from secondary school.’’

  ‘‘Why? Because you didn’t?’’

  ‘‘I had to go to work to give us a home. I wanted her to go to finishing school, to become the young lady I never could be. Mrs. Brandon would have done that for her.’’

  ‘‘I know. But Opal loves this ranch as much as I do. She has a heart as big as our Dakotah sky. Perhaps if we really think on it, we can come up with something far better for her than spending hours each day cooped up with a teacher who isn’t half as smart as she is.’’

  ‘‘Rand Harrison.’’

  ‘‘Well, it’s true. He has more book learning, but—’’ he kissed his wife on the tip of her nose—‘‘he lacks a certain amount of common sense, don’t you think?’’

  ‘‘I don’t know. I hardly know the man.’’

  ‘‘Would you like to be friends with him?’’

  She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking of the teacher who’d followed Pearl. ‘‘No.’’

  ‘‘Why not?’’

  ‘‘He’s insipid, boring, and looks down on us ranchers.’’

  ‘‘Oh, really?’’

  ‘‘I think we need to ask the state for a new teacher, or else someone ought to wise him up.’’ She gave him a sideways glance.

  ‘‘Me?’’

  ‘‘Why not?’’

  ‘‘Get on your horse. We have a few miles to cover.’’ He gave her a boost and mounted Buck. ‘‘You’re not going to worry about this, are you?’’

  ‘‘No, but I do like to have a plan.’’

  ‘‘I know. Worrying doesn’t accomplish anything.’’

  ‘‘Rand.’’

  He grinned at her and nudged Buck into a slow jog.

  ‘‘Everybody can’t just not do what is hard. Hard times build character.’’

  ‘‘You don’t think Opal is enough of a character?’’

  ‘‘There’s a difference.’’ But she’d noticed the tightening of his jaw. He’d go talk with the man all right. Perhaps instill in him a little more respect for the rancher breed. Opal, sometimes you make me so perturbed. If only Pearl had been able to keep teaching.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  ‘‘Opal, I guess you and I have something to talk over.’’ Ruby stood with Per
on her hip. His head leaned against her shoulder as if she’d been gone for weeks instead of a few hours. The instant he heard her voice, he’d run shrieking to the door. His ‘‘Ma-a’’ could probably be heard clear to town.

  ‘‘Now?’’ While Opal had willingly worked at the house all day, she thought that as soon as Ruby returned, she could head for the horse pasture.

  ‘‘Can you think of a better time?’’

  ‘‘Well, yes.’’ Opal took a broomstraw from the can on the warming shelf and leaned over to open the oven door, sticking the straw into the cake to test for doneness. When some batter showed on the straw, she closed the oven door very carefully so the cake would not fall. ‘‘How about after supper?’’

  ‘‘I suppose. How long until the cake is done?’’

  ‘‘Perhaps five minutes.’’

  ‘‘Can you wait that long, or do you need to get out to the horses immediately?’’ A bite to the words made Opal decide staying would be best.

  ‘‘I’ll wait. Did you have a good time?’’

  ‘‘Yes, we did. How was Per?’’

  ‘‘Busy. He thought he should be able to churn the butter, wash the butter, and salt it too. Ghost played with him for a while.’’

  ‘‘Don’t know what I’d do without that dog at times.’’ Ruby tickled Per’s tummy and kissed his cheek. ‘‘You were a good boy?’’

  ‘‘Go boy.’’ He stuck his first finger into his mouth, a favorite trick since he was weaned.

  ‘‘We got the beans picked and strung. I’d rather do that than can them anytime.’’ Opal checked under the towel spread over a pan of rolls rising. They would be ready for the oven when the cake was done. She’d used the leftover sourdough batter from the breakfast pancakes, kneaded in more flour, and set the rolls rising for supper.

  ‘‘Did the men get back yet?’’

  ‘‘No. There’s a roast in the back of the oven.’’

  ‘‘Thank you, Opal, for my day off. I cannot tell you how much I appreciated it.’’

  ‘‘Good.’’ But I thought it might make you more agreeable to what I want, if Rand mentioned it to you, which he obviously did. She set the wood-slatted rack on the table and pulled the coffeepot to the hotter part of the stove. ‘‘Coffee should be hot about the time the cake is done. I thought whipped cream would be good on it.’’ It seemed she’d been cooking and baking all day while the men were over at Robertsons’ bringing in the last of the hay loads.