The Turn of a Wheel (Kansas Crossroads Book 17)

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The Turn of a Wheel (Kansas Crossroads Book 17) Page 2

by Amelia C. Adams


  Something told him he shouldn’t be too sure about that.

  Chapter Two

  Ruth was tempted to start working on the wedding cake and conveniently forget about her meeting with Mr. Barker, but it wouldn’t be that easy to escape—he’d just come looking for her. She should go talk to him and get it over with, and then—maybe—he’d be content to leave her alone.

  She took off her apron, washed her hands, then stepped outside. Several of the girls were doing the laundry, and Mr. Barker was standing there chatting with them. Chatting? How annoying. This wasn’t a social gathering, for goodness’ sake.

  He turned and smiled at her as she approached. “Your friends were just telling me some interesting details about how the hotel operates. It sounds like your boss likes to run a tight ship.”

  “He does, and that’s why people keep coming back.” Ruth motioned toward the apple orchard that grew out back of the hotel. “Shall we take a walk?”

  He followed her lead, and neither one spoke until they were out of earshot of the other girls. Then she turned to him. “What is it exactly that you’d like to know, Mr. Barker?”

  “Why you’re so angry with my brother.” He held up a hand. “You have every right to decline the job offer—I’m not trying to make you accept it. I would just like to understand why you’re declining. There seems to be more involved than I’m aware of.”

  He didn’t know? How was that possible? “Your brother didn’t mention our . . . altercation to you?”

  “Altercation? No, he never said a word about that. He just told me that he’d like you to come along with him when he moved, and because I’m helping him arrange his affairs, I said I’d stop by.”

  That sounded plausible enough, but Ruth was still annoyed. How could that despicable man send his brother out here to do his dirty work for him and not even mention that anything had happened in the past?

  “Please tell me, Miss Barnes,” Mr. Barker said. “If I’m going to be pulled even farther into his business, I should know all the aspects of it, shouldn’t I?”

  “Yes, I believe you should.” Ruth took a seat on the bench that separated the orchard from the expansive yard of the hotel, and Mr. Barker sat next to her. “I moved here from North Carolina about two years ago,” she began. “My father and I had a silly argument over whether a young woman really could make it in the world or if she’d always need a father, brother, or husband to watch over her. Being as stubborn as I am, I decided to show him a thing or two, and I moved west entirely on my own.”

  “Was he convinced?” Mr. Barker asked.

  “He’s becoming a little more so all the time,” Ruth replied. “He thought I’d give up after six weeks and come back, but so far, I’ve managed to keep myself clothed, fed, and housed without any help from him at all.”

  “Good for you.”

  She glanced at him. “If you keep interrupting, we’ll never get through this story.”

  He held up both hands. “Sorry. I’ll be quiet now.”

  She doubted that, but she continued anyway. “I was hired out at the Lazy Q, as you know, and the work was hard because there were so many mouths to feed, but the men were good-natured and grateful, and we got along. Wade and Big Mike and Sully would sometimes stay after dinner and help clear the table or carry hot water for the dishes—that sort of thing. I was grateful for that. I might have been supporting myself without my father’s help, but I did still need friendship.

  “Things were going well until Mr. Higgins, the foreman at the time, decided that I . . .” Ruth swallowed. She’d wanted to tell this story with as little emotion as possible, but it didn’t look like she would escape without at least a few tears. “He began making inappropriate comments, which I ignored because that’s the sort of thing you hear when you’re surrounded by men. But then he became more vulgar, and I went and spoke to your brother about it.” She looked over at Mr. Barker again. “He told me that Higgins was the best foreman he’d ever had, and that he wasn’t going to risk losing him on the say-so of a little kitchen wench. Those were his exact words, no embellishment.”

  Mr. Barker opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but then shut it again and motioned for her to continue.

  “So, I told Wade what was going on, and he promised that he and the other men would keep an eye out for me. About a week later, Higgins cornered me in the kitchen, told me he knew what I was up to, that I wouldn’t get away with it, and that I had no right to be spreading rumors about him. He slapped me across the face, hard, and then he . . . Let’s just say that if Wade hadn’t come in just then, things would have ended very differently.

  “I left the ranch that night and came here to the Brody, where I’ve been shown how an employer is actually supposed to treat the help. Your brother was so caught up in dollar signs that he wouldn’t lift a finger to protect me, and do you know what? He didn’t even fire Higgins until all the men threatened to quit if he didn’t. It had nothing to do with showing respect for me or serving Higgins some justice. And that, Mr. Barker, is why I refuse to work for your brother again.”

  Mr. Barker leaned forward on his elbows, looking at the ground rather than at her. When he finally straightened and met her gaze, his look was troubled. “I wish I could tell you how sorry I am about that, Miss Barnes,” he said. “No, I wasn’t told a thing about that. Wade and Margaret indicated that something had happened, but said it was your story to tell, and Jeb—well, he has the habit of putting things he considers unpleasant out of his mind.”

  “You might say that I have the same habit,” Ruth replied. “I’ve chosen to be happy here without giving my time at the Lazy Q another thought except when it comes to remembering my friends. Jeb Barker, someone I was supposed to be able to trust, didn’t listen to me and I was put in danger, but I was saved by someone I actually could trust, and I consider that a blessing. I’ve moved on from that experience, but I’m not going to repeat it by any means.”

  “I understand entirely.” Mr. Barker stood up. “I’ll be getting back to the Lazy Q now, Miss Barnes. It’s been a pleasure to meet you, and I hope life brings you all that you deserve.” He gave her a slight bow and then he was off, striding across the grass with purpose. It was odd to Ruth that he didn’t escort her back to the hotel, but then, the Barker men weren’t really known for treating women with fairness, were they?

  ***

  Alex wanted to kick something, but he didn’t see anything in his path that would suit his purposes. Instead, he walked around the hotel to the front, where he’d left his horse by the hitching post, and mounted. He didn’t see Wade’s wagon anywhere, so he figured the Watkins’ had gone over to the general store to load up on the supplies they’d said they’d get while they were in town. Alex didn’t want to wait for them, so he spurred his horse onward, knowing they’d figure out he’d gone ahead.

  As he galloped down the dusty road toward the Lazy Q, he was so angry, it was all he could do to remain in the saddle. He’d become a boxer while going to college in New York, and he’d found that physical activity was the best way to work off emotional energy. He didn’t know if he could find a suitable opponent out here, not one who was familiar with the proper rules. He didn’t want a scuffle—he just wanted the exercise so he could regain control of his temper.

  The long ride to the ranch seemed to help, and by the time he arrived, he was somewhat calmer. He kept seeing her eyes, though—green and clear, tinged with pain. No one had the right to treat a woman with such contempt, and he couldn’t believe his own brother could behave that badly.

  Except . . . yes, he could believe it, and that made everything all the more difficult.

  He looped the horse’s reins over the porch railing of his brother’s house and climbed the steps, wiping his boots on the mat before entering. Then he strode down the long hallway to Jeb’s office.

  “Miss Barnes won’t be accepting the job,” he said without any other greeting.

  “That’s too bad. Sh
e was a good cook.” Jeb put down the sheet of paper he’d been reading. “I guess we’ll look for someone when we get there.”

  “I guess we will.” Alex rocked back on his heels, waiting until he had Jeb’s full attention. “She told me what happened. I wondered why you didn’t tell me yourself.”

  Jeb’s face clouded over. “It was an unfortunate event, that’s for sure, but I fired Higgins, and Watkins has been a good replacement. I figured we could let bygones be bygones.”

  “She said you only fired Higgins because the other men threatened to walk out.”

  “I suppose if you want to get down to the details, that’s true. Doesn’t really matter how it came about, does it?”

  “It does to her, and it does to me, too. Why didn’t you listen to her, Jeb? Why didn’t you do something about it? You could have protected her and kept Higgins at the same time if you’d had a mind to do it. Getting an extra kitchen helper so she wasn’t alone—that sort of thing. It wouldn’t have been hard.”

  “Hard? No, but expensive. Every penny has to be watched when you’re running a ranch, Alex. If you ever want to make a profit, you have to stay on your toes.”

  “It’s always come down to the money for you.” Alex shook his head. “When she told me, I wanted to say she was wrong, that she was lying, but you’re my brother, and I know you better than anyone. I knew she was telling the truth, and it sickened me. How can you be so callous? How can you overlook someone’s plea for help like that? Money’s become your god, Jeb, and you don’t worship anything else, do you?”

  Jeb looked up at him, his jaw clenched. Finally, he said, “Don’t you remember how we grew up, eating dry corn mush because that’s all we had, and it was all we would have for days on end? I’d lie awake at night and think about all the good food I’d have to eat someday because I’d be rich, so rich that I could buy anything I wanted. And look at me now—buying a ranch bigger than anything I’ve ever dreamed of. I didn’t get here by being soft-hearted, little brother. I got here through sheer determination. Yes, I rely on my foreman to see to the details of the ranch—there are some skills I don’t have. But I can afford to hire out what I can’t do for myself, and I’m proud of that. I’m proud of where I’ve gotten and what I’ve accomplished. And you want to know something else? I haven’t eaten one dish of corn mush since I moved out of our father’s house, and I never will.”

  Alex shook his head. “Yes, I remember that corn mush, but you know what else I remember? Our mother breaking her back doing mending for people so she could put that mush on the table. And I remember her crying because she couldn’t afford to give us any better, and I remember thinking, no one has the right to make our mother cry. And I decided that I was never going to be like our father, and I would never make her cry like he did. Funny how we each took different lessons from the same experience, isn’t it?”

  “Well, I was older, and you were always a mama’s boy.” Jeb leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his stomach. “I didn’t become like our father, no matter what you’re implying—I never took up drinking and womanizing. I never let my obligations get the better of me. You worked hard and went to college, and I worked hard and got some land. We’re each dealing with it in our own way, and I think you’re taking this situation with the little cook far too seriously. It’s over, isn’t it?”

  Alex fisted his hands at his sides, trying to stay calm. “Yes, it’s over because she’s chosen to move on. She only told me what happened because I pressed. She’s not walking around carrying it like a cross, like you are with your childhood.”

  Jeb came to his feet. “You think I’m carrying around my childhood like a cross, like I’m some kind of martyr? That’s what you’re saying?”

  “I’m saying that you need better motivation, something to move toward instead of something to run away from.”

  “Now listen, Alex. I don’t know what makes you think you have the right to come in here and start slinging insults around, but you don’t. I’m still your older brother, and you’d better show me some respect.”

  “Why?” Alex shot back. “Just because you’re older than me? You didn’t earn that right—it’s how we were born.”

  Jeb pressed his lips together. “You came here to help me buy a ranch, and I’m grateful for that,” he said after a long minute. “But you don’t have any call to be trying to run my life, or to lecture me on my morals, or to tell me how I should or shouldn’t apologize about something I should or shouldn’t have done. I’ve made my choices, and I stand by them. You might not agree with them, but I don’t recall you ever being put in charge of me.”

  “And you honestly don’t care how you treated Ruth Barnes?”

  Jeb threw his hands up in exasperation. “Why should I care? She was in here caterwauling at me about how unfair her life was, like she expected me to fix it for her, and I don’t have time for that sort of thing. I’m in business. I’m not someone’s nursemaid.”

  Alex was so furious, he couldn’t respond in any way for several seconds. Then he turned on his heel and strode out of the office, going to the guestroom where he’d been staying and pulling out his satchel. He still had some paperwork to do on Jeb’s behalf—he’d complete it, but only because of the nice commission he’d be receiving. But he would not live for another moment under his brother’s roof. After he shoved all his things into the bag, he walked outside only to come up short when he realized the horse he’d been riding was Jeb’s.

  He pulled some money from his pocket, walked back to the office, and threw the money on Jeb’s desk. “Rent for the horse,” he said, then left again. He wouldn’t be beholden for another thing.

  Chapter Three

  It was late in the evening, and Ruth was so tired, it was hard to concentrate. But she had to—this cake needed to be the most beautiful wedding cake the Brody had ever seen. After all, Miranda was marrying Richard Norton, her childhood crush, and their day had to be perfect.

  Nora came into the kitchen and sat down at the table, not speaking, but just watching until Ruth finished the delicate pattern she was working into the icing on the right side of the cake. When Ruth paused and looked up, Nora said, “I thought you might want to know that Alex Barker just checked in.”

  “He did? Here?”

  “Yes, here. That’s how I know about it.” Nora shook her head, a smile on her face. “He really got to you, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, he certainly did, but I thought he was gone now. Why’d he come back?”

  “I don’t know. He didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. I just took his money and handed him a room key.”

  “Did he at least say how long he’d be staying here?”

  “He thought it would be a few days.”

  Ruth sighed. How was she supposed to avoid him when he’d be right under her nose? “How’s the cake looking?” she asked, needing to change the subject.

  “It looks beautiful. Is Miranda still forbidden to come into the kitchen?”

  “Of course! I can’t have her seeing the cake before the wedding. It’s bad luck.”

  “I thought it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride.”

  “Yes, that too.” Ruth smoothed out a spot that threatened to bubble. “After everything Richard and Miranda have been through to make it to this point, they need extra good luck, don’t you think?”

  “Agreed.” Nora gave her a smile. “It’s a lovely cake, Ruth. I think it’s the prettiest you’ve ever done.”

  “Thank you. I’m surprised it’s turning out well at all—I’ve been so rattled tonight. And now he’s staying here. I wish he’d just go away.”

  “He will eventually. No one stays at the Brody forever, you know.”

  “Except me.” Ruth hadn’t meant to say the words aloud, but she did, and immediately wished she could take them back.

  “What do you mean?” Nora asked.

  “Oh, I’m just getting restless. I’ve seen so many of my friends find true love and get married�
��it seems like my turn ought to come along sooner or later, shouldn’t it? I’m just feeling sorry for myself because everyone’s leaving me.”

  “Not everyone has left—lots of them still live nearby,” Nora pointed out.

  “Yes, but it’s not the same. They can’t come over and sit up all night talking. They have to get home to their husbands.”

  “Getting married does change things.” Nora looked down at the table and traced some of the designs in the wood with the tip of her finger. “I’ve wondered the same thing—if I’ll ever get married. I can’t imagine too many men who would still take me.”

  “Oh, Nora, of course you’ll get married.” Ruth set down her frosting knife and took a seat next to the other girl. “I don’t have any doubt of that. And . . . would you even need to tell him? It’s not something you need to share—not unless you want to.”

  “I couldn’t lie to the man I loved—I’d have to tell him. And then . . . I don’t know.” Nora shook her head. “He’d have to be the world’s most amazing man to stay with me after that.”

  “And he would be anyway—otherwise, you wouldn’t be in love with him.” Ruth reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand. She wished she had the right words to erase Nora’s fears, but she didn’t. Nora had been the victim of an attack, and she’d become pregnant. Pastor Osbourne and his wife had taken the baby in and Nora could now determine her new fate, but it was true that not many men would want to involve themselves. Sometimes the world was too cruel.

  And the same thing could have happened to Ruth. If Wade hadn’t intervened, she could have been left pregnant . . . But she couldn’t think about that. When she did, it was too hard to pull herself out of the memory—she needed to focus on the here and now.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have interrupted you,” Nora said with a smile. “It’s not always about me.”

 

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