Ruby shrugged.
“It was through my clothes. It’s not like they could feel anything. All they felt was my dress,” she said, like they were upset over nothing.
Good God, her mother was probably rolling over in her grave. Meg was out of her element. She needed her father here to help tame her wild youngest sister.
“Still you were charging them money, like a common whore,” Meg said, knowing her mother would have taken a switch to her backside.
“You mean those women down at the saloon?” Ruby asked innocently. “Never. They felt my dress, nothing else.”
Where had Meg gone wrong in teaching her youngest sister? She’d tried to guide Ruby the same as their mother had taught Meg until she’d died when Meg was twelve and Ruby a mere eight years old
Meg shook her head. “It’s morally wrong. The only man who can touch you is your husband, not silly schoolboys who will tell all the other little foolish boys. If this gets back to Papa…”
Tears welled up in Ruby’s soft blue eyes. The same eyes their father had. “I only wanted to earn enough money to get Papa a birthday present.”
Annabelle shook her head, her mahogany curls bouncing. “Letting boys kiss you and feel your breasts is not the way to earn money.”
No, it wasn’t, Meg thought, but how else did a woman earn money in today’s world? There weren’t many choices, and most women chose marriage over working drudgery jobs that paid them little.
Tears spilled over and slid down Ruby’s cheeks, but her blue eyes glazed with defiance. “Boys are always asking me for a kiss, and I decided if they were stupid enough to pay me, then I’d give them their kiss and take their money.”
“Oh, honey,” Meg said, unable not to hug her youngest sister. Boys were stupid, and Ruby was a precocious young woman. And her tears got to Meg every time. “You’re beautiful. Boys are going to chase you. I understand the satisfaction you must have felt to take their money, but you’re playing with a prairie fire.”
Ruby hiccupped a sob. “What do you mean?”
“Sometimes a boy can get so worked up by a woman’s touch and her kiss that even when she’s saying no, he keeps going. Why do you think Papa taught us all how to shoot? Why do you think we all carry a persuader hidden beneath our skirts?” Meg said, patting Ruby on the back.
“He said it was to protect us,” Ruby replied, her blue eyes all innocent. “But why would anyone want to hurt us?”
God, this girl knew how to charm the rattlers off a snake. Meg knew the men would soon be coming around like bees swarming a hive. The honey was pure and sweet and so tempting. She needed her father’s guidance in how to deal with her younger sister.
“Yes, and he’s referring to men. He’s trying to protect us from a man trying to take advantage of us and stealing our virtue.”
“Virtue?” Ruby questioned.
Annabelle patted Ruby on the back. “A woman only has her good name and her virtue. Her virtue is her goodness, her purity, and her virginity.”
Ruby leaned back out of Meg’s arms and told Annabelle. “I’m still good.”
The innocence of her statement caused Meg and Annabelle to laugh. “Yeah, we know that. But your future husband doesn’t want to learn you were out selling your kisses in the schoolyard. He might think you were offering more than simple kisses.”
Stepping out of Meg’s arms, Ruby’s brows drew together in a frown as she considered her sisters. “Seems to me if he was a good man, he wouldn’t be out buying kisses and touches in the schoolyard, or he’d think I was a smart woman to trick all those boys into doing something so silly.”
Meg drew air into her lungs and closed her eyes. Once her sisters were raised, married, and out of the house, she intended to live without any responsibilities, wear dresses, and sew pretty garments. This life was harsh, and becoming the head of the household at the age of twelve had stolen her girlhood from her. Soon, it would be her time to live. She promised herself every day…soon.
“Come on, it’s time to put the chickens up before it gets dark,” Meg said, ruffling Ruby’s hair, like she was twelve again and not fifteen. “You’ve caused enough excitement for one day. Your punishment will be you have to clean the chicken coop, and you’ll donate the money you earned to the house.”
“No,” Ruby whined, her blue eyes pleading with her sister. “Not the chicken coop.”
Meg shook her head, knowing she had to be strong. “Sorry, I’m working in the garden, and it needs to be done. You’re now home from school to help me.”
“Lucky me,” Ruby said.
“Should have thought of that before you kissed all those boys.”
Ruby raised her head and stared at Meg, her sky blue eyes flashing defiance. “Next time I won’t get caught.”
Meg stopped. “Do you want me to tell Papa when he comes home?”
“No,” she said sullenly.
“Then there won’t be a next time.” Meg questioned whether or not she’d been strict enough with Ruby. The girl had used her brains to come up with the one way she could earn extra money. Unfortunately, it could also damage her reputation. And if their Papa learned of her antics, she might be feeling the barber strap on her backside.
The three of them walked out the front door of the small house. “I’m not collecting the eggs tonight,” Ruby said, flouncing alongside them. “That one hen bites me every time.”
“It’s my turn to collect the eggs,” Annabelle said, walking quietly with them to the barn.
When Ruby got into trouble, Annabelle always went out of her way to make Ruby’s life easier for a few days.
“I’ll put up the goats,” Ruby volunteered.
“Are those riders in the distance?” Annabelle asked, stopping and shading her eyes as she stared toward the horizon.
Meg strained her eyes against the setting sun. “Is that…? That’s Papa.”
“Papa,” Ruby cried, running across the field toward their father.
“Something’s not right,” Meg said, gazing toward the two men on horseback. “He’s slumped in the saddle. He’s not sitting up straight and tall.”
“Oh, my God,” Annabelle said as she started to run. “He’s hurt.”
Meg’s chest grew tight, squeezing the air from her lungs at the thought of something being wrong with their father.
Meg stopped and stared up at the man barely sitting in the saddle. “Papa, are you all right?”
His color was pale; his blue eyes were sunk back into his head and seemed dull. A scratch ran across his face.
“How’re my girls?” he croaked through dry, parched lips.
“He’s in a lot of pain. I got him home as soon as I could,” the man on horseback said. “I’m Deke Culver. I was with him when he got hurt.”
Emerald eyes gazed at Meg, his face covered with a scruffy unshaven beard. Midnight black hair peeked from beneath his hat and matched his heavy brows. The man’s lips turned up in a quirk of a smile.
“Good to meet you, Mr. Culver.”
The girls walked silently beside their father until they reached the house.
“Let me help him down off his horse,” Deke said, swinging his leg over his saddle and dropping to the ground.
The man was one tall, muscular jackeroo who wore his guns low across hips and moved with grace and speed as he hurried to her father’s side.
He lifted their father off his horse and half carried him into the house. Annabelle went ahead of them, showing Deke where to take their father.
Meg turned to Ruby. “Go fetch Doc Henderson right now. Don’t stop anywhere, just get him back here as soon as possible.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said, her voice trembling. “Is he going to be okay?”
“I don’t know,” Meg said, fear rising like a wave of nausea, gripping her stomach in a vise. She hurried after Deke, who was helping their father climb into bed.
She didn’t know where her Papa had found this cowboy, but thank God the man had been with him whe
n Papa was injured. There was no way he could have made it home alone. It said a lot about Deke that he’d bring an injured man back to his family.
“Hi, my sweet Irish rose,” her father said, as his hand reached for Meg’s cheek.
Her lungs seized, restraining the sob that filled her throat. It was the name he’d called their mother. He thought she was their mom.
Deke glanced over at her. “What did he call you?”
She shook her head, unable to respond. “Papa, it’s me, Meg. Where do you hurt?”
He closed his eyes. “So much I need to tell you.”
“Ruby has gone for the doctor.”
“Just let me rest for a bit, and then we’ll talk,” her father said his voice barely legible.
“I think he cracked his ribs. He’s had trouble breathing,” Deke said, stepping back to the door of the bedroom.
Annabelle pulled Papa’s boots off and his dirty socks. With a warm washcloth, she gently bathed his face, wiping the dust from his fevered brow. “Would you mind taking his pants off for us?”
Deke glanced over at Annabelle, who turned beseeching hazel eyes on him. He sighed. “Sure.”
They turned their backs while the cowboy removed Papa’s pants and covered their father with a blanket on the bed.
“Thank you,” Annabelle said with a smile as she began to unbutton his shirt.
Deke helped her pull the arms of the shirt off her father by raising him up in the bed. Papa groaned, the sound low and deep as they moved him.
Annabelle lifted the covers and looked at his chest. “Oh, my God, he’s so bruised. What happened?”
Meg grabbed the coverlet and gazed at their father’s black and blue torso. Her heart pounded, her vision blurring with unshed tears, as she stared at the damage to his chest and ribs.
The handsome, rugged man who’d brought him home shook his head and sighed. “We’d been working on a new case together. When James Rivera, our outlaw, suddenly left town, we chased him at full gallop. Your father’s horse jumped a ravine, and somehow your father lost his footing in the saddle. He fell off the horse and tumbled down into the ravine. I stopped when I saw him fall.” Deke looked at her father and then back at Meg. “Frankly, that first night I didn’t think he’d make it. But he kept saying he had to get home. When he managed to tell me where he lived, I brought him here.”
“Thank you, for bringing him to us.” Meg stared at their father; his color was yellow, his breathing shallow. “When did this happen?”
“Two days ago. I’m surprised he made it this long. It was the least I could do. Your father’s been good to me.”
Meg stared at the shadow of the man her father was. He’d always been a big man, robust and healthy and strong. Sure, he’d been shot before. In his line of business, such were the injuries of the trade. Bounty hunting wasn’t a safe occupation, but she’d never worried about his dying, before now.
“Do you think he’s going to make it?” Meg asked.
Deke shook his head, his gaze on the man lying unconscious. “I’m not a doctor. I don’t know. But I know he’s hurt bad. He’s been coughing up blood.”
Oh, God, no, he couldn’t die. Not her Papa.
She couldn’t…she couldn’t lose her beloved father. He was the one who took care of her. He couldn’t leave her alone with Ruby and Annabelle. And Meg couldn’t shoulder the burden of paying for the farm and putting food on their table. She couldn’t take on one more thing. Placing her face in her hands, she felt Annabelle come up behind her and lay her hands on her shoulder. “We don’t know anything yet. Let’s wait for the doctor.”
“I’m afraid. He’s never been hurt like this before.”
“I know,” Annabelle said quietly.
Meg pulled her hands away from her face. She never let herself be vulnerable in front of her sisters. Never. Yet, the idea of losing their father and her having full responsibility was daunting. She loved her sisters, but she dreamed of her own life. Still, she knew as sure as her next breath that if something were to happen to their father, she’d take over the complete running of the farm and make sure her sisters had a home. They were family, and she’d care for them.
She gazed at her father lying still, his breathing shallow; she could almost believe he was a corpse. A scratch ran across his cheek, and a bruise marred his forehead. She’d never seen him look so frail.
The front door opened. “Meg, Annabelle? I have the doctor.”
Ruby led the man into the bedroom. “Is he better?”
Meg shook her head. “Thanks for coming, Doc.”
“Why don’t you all clear the room and let me take a good look at my patient.”
Meg and her sisters and even Deke left the doctor with their father. Outside the bedroom, Meg watched as they paced the floor of the quaint farmhouse, their shoes making a rhythmic thump on the wooden floor. Her mother had decorated the farmhouse with love, some antiques and homemade quilts and a wooden dining table. It wasn’t fancy, but it was home.
Deke sat at the table, drumming his fingers. “Maybe I should go. I can spend the night in town.”
“No, you brought our Papa home. You’re welcome to sleep in the loft of the barn. There’s a bed in there, and I promise you Ruby’s going to fix us some supper just as soon the doctor leaves,” Meg told him, feeling such a debt of gratitude toward this man. “Papa would want us to make certain you were treated well for your effort.”
She watched Ruby flounce towards Mr. Culver and sighed. The girl was all fanciful with notions of love and poetry and men. Not the reality of the situation, which was working until you dropped with exhaustion. Ruby’s head was cluttered with dreams that could only get her into trouble. Even now while their father lay hurt in the next room, she darted about the room like a butterfly seeking nectar.
“It’s already cooked. We’re having cornbread and stew tonight,” Ruby told him. “I’m a very good cook, so you don’t want to miss out on my stew.”
Meg wanted to hit her. Did she never stop flirting? Was it just part of her nature like taking her next breath? If a man walked into the room, she automatically became a coquette. Where had she learned this behavior?
The bedroom door opened and the doctor walked out. “Why don’t we all sit down for a moment.”
Meg looked at his face and felt her stomach sink to her knees; her body shook so much she could barely stand. He had that fatherly-I’ve got bad news-expression on his face. She didn’t want to see that expression; she didn’t want to hear his news. It wasn’t fair. She needed her father.
They sank down on the settee, the three sisters with the doctor sitting across from them in her mother’s favorite rocker. Deke still sat at the table.
“Your father has suffered some serious internal injuries. His abdomen is swelling and filling with blood. One of his lungs has collapsed.” The doctor paused and looked at each of them. “At this time, I don’t think there’s much hope.”
Meg heard the words, but her brain refused to acknowledge what her eyes had already told her.
Ruby started to cry. “No.”
The doctor sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I could be wrong. Sometimes these things fix themselves in a day or two, but more often the patient slowly slips away.”
“No,” Annabelle suddenly said. “No, he’s going to get better. We’ll take care of him. We’ll take turns sitting with him and make sure he gets everything that he needs.”
Meg’s insides twisted into a hopeless knot of anxiety. She would do whatever was necessary to make sure her father lived. Living without her Papa was just not a choice.
The doctor smiled at her. “I hope so, Annabelle.” He looked around the farmhouse. “I know you girls need your father. I’m going to leave now, but if you need anything else, just send for me. I left some laudanum by his bed. If he has pain, give him several drops.”
Meg stood and wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. “Thanks for coming, Doc. We appreciate it.” She glanced at h
er sisters, worried about them.
Ruby’s face was white, her blue eyes wide and dazed like she was afraid. Annabelle sat on the couch in shock—her face pale, her hazel eyes almost ember, her lips pursed.
Ruby stood. “I’ll see you out, Doc.”
Meg watched her show him out, and once the door closed, Ruby started to cry. “We can’t lose Papa. We just can’t.”
Annabelle rose and went to her along with Meg. “We’ll do everything we can to keep him here with us.”
Meg’s heart rose in her throat, tears welling up inside her, threatening to spill. She refused to cry. But just like Ruby, she couldn’t lose her Papa. She needed him.
The next morning Ruby ambled along on her way to the hen house to collect the eggs. She hated going to the chicken coop and fighting that crazy hen that liked to peck her. That chicken would soon be roasting in a pot if she had her way, but Meg said to wait until after spring when the new chicks would arrive. That bird might not make it until spring if she continued to peck Ruby’s hands.
Ruby came around the corner of the barn, and her feet stopped, her mouth opened, and her breath seized in her throat. She stared in heated fascination as Deke swung an ax, chopping wood, naked from the waist up. The muscles in his back and chest rippled with strength with each swing of the ax. His skin was tanned, his muscles taut, and she wanted to run her fingers down his smooth skin. She wanted to know how a man felt without his shirt on. How he smelled after working hard.
“Good morning,” Deke said, his emerald eyes staring at her, his breathing labored.
She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dryer than a hot Texas summer day even though it was only March.
“Good morning,” she said cheerfully, her heart racing, her mind slowing, and her eyes unable to move from the sight of his half naked body.
“Why are you doing that?” she asked, not really caring, but enjoying the view. Not wanting him to stop.
“I thought I would fill up your wood box for you before I left today, since your papa won’t be able to chop for a while. How is he this morning?” He swung the ax.
Lipstick and Lead Series: The Complete Box Set With a Bonus Book Page 2