Sequins and Spurs

“Oh, yes’m.” Claire darted from the kitchen.

Ruby had heated water and was washing the pitcher and glasses. Georgia took a clean towel from a cupboard shelf to dry them.

Ruby gave her a cautious, but straightforward look. “You must be surprised to see me.”

Georgia nodded. “More than a little.”

“Your son doesn’t want me here.”

Georgia could only imagine how Ruby’s sudden arrival had surprised Nash. They had all wondered about her, but he had been here with Pearl and Laura all along, so undoubtedly he had more questions than anyone else. “The last few years have been difficult for him. He has strong feelings about all of it. About you.”

Ruby paused with her wrists over the enamel basin, suds dripping from her fingers. “All I wanted to do was make things up to my mama and Pearl. I came back to ask Mama’s forgiveness and to start over.” She shook her head, sending curls swaying. “Nash hates me for making things harder for them—especially harder for Pearl.”

Georgia was aware of her son’s resentment. “Hate is a strong word.”

“But it’s the right word in this case.”

Georgia had no idea what was going on inside Ruby’s head, but she knew her son well enough to know he’d directed a lot of anger toward the woman who’d unknowingly left all the care of her mother to his wife, and later to the kindness of his neighbors. “He’s going to need some time.”

The back door opened and closed, and Nash set the bag of lemons on the table. “We’re gonna wash up at the well.”

Joel rode his father’s hip as Nash headed out again.

Ruby took the lemons from the bag and found a cutting board. “He told me you called on my mother. Were you friends?”

Georgia nodded, not wanting to reveal more than Ruby was ready to hear. “We became good friends, yes.”

“Do you hate me, too?”

“Of course not. I barely know you.”

“You know what I did.”

Her frankness was surprising. “You headed out on your own and you sent money home.”

Ruby met her gaze with penetrating blue eyes, eyes like her mother’s, but more full of life and expression. “Mama told you that?”

Georgia nodded. “We spent a lot of time together. She told me many things.”

Claire returned clutching a rag doll. “The sheets aren’t on my bed.”

Ruby appeared flustered and brushed hair from her face with the back of a wet hand. “I didn’t realize that was your room when I chose a bed last night. I used to sleep there when I was your age.”

“You did?”

Ruby dried her hands on a length of toweling. “I washed all the sheets today, though, so I’ll leave them clean for the next time you sleep in your bed again.” She turned to Georgia. “I’d like to talk more when there’s time.”

Georgia gave her a long, considering look. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Ruby wasn’t sure what to make of the older woman’s lack of animosity, compared to her son’s, but she was thankful. No doubt Ruby would run up against a lot of people with the same negative opinion of her, so she might be smart to develop an even thicker skin.

It took a few minutes, but Ruby found a glass juicer and washed that as well. She then set to squeezing the lemon halves. “I have no idea how much sugar to add. I don’t even know if there is any.”

Georgia carried a chipped cup to the pantry and returned with it full. “This should do it.”

Nash came back and set a ragged square of ice near the sink. A few pieces of straw stuck to the surface. Georgia rinsed it off, found a mallet and chipped ice for their drinks.

When the lemonade was ready, they carried their glasses to the front porch. Ruby waited until the family was seated in what she assumed were their usual places before taking a seat on a nearby bench. An awkward silence followed.

“When did you get here?” Georgia finally asked.

“About dusk last night.”

“She slept in my bed,” Claire said to her father.

Nash didn’t look at any of them.

“How did you arrive?” Georgia asked.

“I rode in.” Ruby gestured to the corral, one end of which was visible from where they sat. She’d let her mare out that morning. “The Duchess is in the corral.”

“What about your belongings?”

“I had a couple of trunks shipped to the station in Crosby. I don’t own much that’s of use on a farm, though.”

“Ranch,” Nash corrected.

“I saw the mares ready to foal,” she replied. When he didn’t respond, she turned to Georgia. “Are your family all ranchers?”

“My husband owns a grain mill.” She glanced at her son, and Ruby picked up on something between them that made her wonder about his own family relationships. “Our daughter’s husband works there, too. Nash is the only horseman.”

When Joel got up and headed for the porch stairs, Nash followed. “Want to go see the horses, buddy?” He turned to his daughter. “Come to the barn with us, sweet pea.”

Claire glanced at her grandmother.

“Go with your father,” she encouraged. “We’ll be leaving shortly, and he wants to spend time with you.”

Claire set her doll on the porch swing beside Georgia and joined her little brother.

“She reminds me of Pearl,” Ruby said.

Georgia picked up the rag doll and absently smoothed its yarn hair. “She’s definitely the spitting image of her mother.”

“Not only her looks,” Ruby said softly, “but the way she’s so hesitant about everything.”

Georgia studied her. “Pearl was a good wife and mother. We all loved her.”

Ruby still heard no accusation in her tone or the appreciative statement. She glanced at the horse in the shade. “She was a good daughter, too, I guess.”

“She was devoted to your mother.”

Of course. Pearl had always done everything it took to please their mother. She hadn’t torn her stockings or misplaced her school books. She’d been a good student and had dutifully helped pull weeds, cook and put up vegetables and preserves. Ruby could still see them together in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on a cake.

Her sister must have been a comfort to their mother. “How long was Mama sick?”

“Several years. There were times when it seemed she got stronger, but then she’d get weak again.”

Ruby had missed it all. The good days and the bad ones.

She’d been gone from home only a year when she’d realized her blunder. She had the freedom and independence she’d always craved, but there were no glamorous jobs for girls like her. She’d always been overly optimistic and impetuous, and more times than she cared to admit, those traits had landed her in tight situations. Leaving home with overblown dreams had been the most monumental of her rash mistakes, but she couldn’t run back to the place she’d escaped. There had been nothing here for her.

She’d been convinced she wasn’t cut out for a mundane life of cooking and cleaning and going to church. School had been torture enough—all those tedious days trapped inside and chained to someone else’s schedule. The world was too big and exciting, and life too full of possibilities to miss out on by following all the rules.

Besides, Ruby Dearing was not a quitter.

So she’d taken unglamorous jobs in saloons and gaming halls, avoiding crude advances and barely getting by, until eventually she’d joined a theater troupe and traveled. Sometimes the pay was good, other times just adequate. But she’d persisted.

If, at some point along that path, she could have swallowed her pride sooner and come for a visit... But there it was. She had held on to her dream until it was nothing more than a dirty rag. And now it was too late. She had always fallen short.

“Your mother loved you very much,” Georgia said.

Ruby had never doubted her mother’s love. Laura Dearing just hadn’t known what to do with her. “I was a disappointment. Even when I was here I wasn’t a pleasing child. I missed my father too much. I didn’t fit in with Mama’s routine or her plans. Not like Pearl.”

“Nobody’s perfect, Ruby. And everyone is different.”

She could wallow in self-recrimination or she could do something to make up for lost time. “Is it too late to plant a garden?”

“Probably not. Ours just went in a week or so ago.”

Everything she’d once thought tedious and unbearable now seemed like a lifeline to the stable life she had thrown away. “I’m going to get the house clean. And then I’ll plant a garden. I need to learn how to cook and put up things for winter.”

She didn’t miss the sympathetic look Georgia cast her way, but the woman replied, “I’ll help any way I can.”

“It appears you do enough already, what with the children in your care.”

“I have help at the house. If you need me, all you have to do is ask. Don’t be shy.”

“Shy isn’t one of my traits,” Ruby said with a smile.

Half an hour later, she trailed behind as Nash and his mother led the children to the buggy. When they reached the conveyance, Claire hugged him around the knees. Gently, he loosened her hold and hunkered down to look into her eyes.

Georgia deliberately stood a distance away to give them privacy, as did Ruby, but their words were still audible.

“I miss you so much, Papa.”

“I miss you, too, Claire.”

“I love Grandma and Grandpa.”

“I know you do. But it’s still hard to be away from home for so long?”

Claire nodded.

Nash wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “It’s hard for me, too. Thank you for being brave and helping with Joel.”

Claire nodded, and they hugged. Nash stood, picked up his little boy and kissed his forehead. “Thank you for being a good boy for your grandmother, Joel.”

Joel hugged his neck, and Nash peeled him away to lift both children up to the buggy and then assist his mother. He bent forward for Georgia to kiss his cheek, and she waved a friendly goodbye to Ruby.

Georgia led the buggy away. Nash straightened his shoulders in a deliberate motion, as though fortifying himself and keeping a lock on his emotions.

Ruby stood a few feet away from him on the grass in front of the house. “They’re beautiful.”

He turned slowly, his dark gaze ruthlessly taking in her features, her rumpled shirtwaist, her hair. He had a couple days’ worth of growth on his chin and upper lip, but his black hair barely touched the collar of his laced shirt. His eyes were so brown they were nearly black, his brows two angry slashes above. “I have work to do.”

“I have questions I’d like to ask.”

“Can they wait?”

His dismissal was even more abrupt than previously. The visit with Claire and Joel had clearly set him on edge. Ruby nodded and glanced toward the stables. “Who cooks for the hands?”

“We cook outdoors. In the bunkhouse if the weather’s poor.”

“I wouldn’t mind cooking for all of you. Might make things easier if you didn’t have to do it yourselves.”

His expression was unreadable. “You can get our supper then. Most days there are three of us.”

She might have said something else, but he’d already turned away and headed for the stables. After taking the glasses inside, she finished hanging her clothes on the line. The sheets were dry by then, so she made up the beds. She tried to put herself in Nash’s place and imagine how difficult the past few years had been. When she looked at herself the way he’d seen her, she couldn’t blame him for holding her absence against her.

Resigned to leaving her old room to Claire, Ruby opened the windows in her mother’s room, mopped the plank wood floors and shook the rag rugs. An upholstered chair with long fringe covering the legs sat between the two corner windows. Beside it a basket held skeins of yarn and knitting needles. Underneath them she found squares of fabric.

Ruby picked up the unfinished piece on top and looked at the white rectangle looped on the needles. She didn’t remember her mother knitting, but back then Laura had been busy with feeding and clothing two children and caring for a house. Perhaps this had filled her time after she’d become sick.

Next, Ruby cleaned and polished the furniture, which consisted of an old armoire with calico curtains on the doors and two small drawers at the bottom, a wood chest at the foot of the bed, a dressing table and chair, and the bureau.

Before placing the ivory comb back on top, she ran her thumbnail across the teeth once more. She could never get the tiny teeth through her curly tresses, but she liked looking at the comb her mother had used for many years.

Ruby got a fresh pail of water and tackled the coal stove in the other corner. Her mother had always set a vase of wildflowers atop it in the summer. Maybe Ruby would look for some spring flowers later.

In the bottom of the armoire she found the quilt that had always been on Laura’s bed, shook it out the window and spread it over the mattress. Grandma McWhirter had made it for Mama as a wedding gift. Daddy hadn’t stuck around any longer than it took to sire two daughters, but the quilt had been here for as long as Ruby could remember.

A resounding slam echoed up the stairway.

“Ruby!”

She straightened and hurried out into the hallway.

Nash stood at the bottom of the stairs, glaring up. “What in blazes are you thinking, woman?”

“About what?”

“About flapping your drawers for all the world to see!”

She came down two steps. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the clothesline. A rancher from Hope Valley came out to look over one of my mares, and your nether wear is hanging in plain sight. It’s indecent.”

“What am I supposed to do with my underwear to get it dry?”

Obviously exasperated, he took a breath and expelled it. “Be discreet, of course. Tuck it in between the sheets and towels. That’s what Pearl did.”

Ruby set down the pail she held and flounced down the stairs. “Well, forgive me for doing my laundry. I had no idea my drawers would get you all in a dither.”

His complexion reddened and it wasn’t from embarrassment. “I’m not in a dither. I’m a businessman trying to conduct a sale with a respectable gentleman who doesn’t care to see your drawers.”

“Then do your business and leave me to mine.” She moved past him and hurried along the hall toward the back door. The front door slammed again.

Chapter Five

After pausing to wash her hands in the kitchen, she carried a basket out of doors and unclipped her clothing from the line, quickly folding and stacking. From the corner of her eye she caught movement as a man climbed to his wagon seat and shook the reins over his horses’ backs. He turned his head and adjusted his hat, but it was plain he’d been taking a gander.

She waved in a friendly fashion and went back to her task.

A minute later, when she glanced over again, the wagon was rolling up dust along the road and Nash had headed back toward the stables. She plucked a wooden clothespin from the bag and threw it as far as she could. It dropped in the grass with unsatisfactory silence.

Ruby carried her clothing into the house and to her mother’s room, where she sorted it on the bed. Traveling with the troupe, the girls had hung their clean garments anywhere they could—most often in their hotel rooms. Ruby felt foolish for not having the foresight to realize it wasn’t polite to hang her things where someone might see them, but the sheets had already been dry by the time she got around to hanging her chemises and drawers. She wouldn’t have the beds made now if she’d waited.

It irked her that Nash had pointed out her mistake, and it irked her more that he’d told her what Pearl would have done. Of course her sister had known how to do everything properly. She’d probably never even said words like drawers or underpinnings in front of her husband.

Ruby didn’t like feeling foolish, and she wasn’t going to let her sister’s cranky husband make her feel bad. There were nice ways to say things, and he hadn’t been very nice about anything yet.

Yanking open drawers in the bureau, she took out all her mother’s stockings and cotton clothing, and unfolded and refolded each piece. Ruby didn’t own much everyday wear, so she’d be able to use most of the items herself. Mama would have liked her practical thinking.

At the bottom of a drawer she found a rectangle wrapped in a scarf and uncovered it, revealing her parents’ wedding portrait. Her mother looked so young and lovely, with a sweet girlish expression. Ruby ran a finger over the image, noting Laura’s simple clothing and the plain veil she’d worn over her hair. Around her neck was the gold locket she’d always worn. Seeing it stirred up more memories for Ruby.

Her father stood straight and tall in his three-piece suit. He was fair, with a thick mustache and curly hair Ruby remembered well. Seeing his likeness brought an ache to her chest.

One morning he simply hadn’t been at the breakfast table.

“Where’s Daddy?” Pearl had asked.

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again.” It wasn’t until years later that Ruby had considered how controlled her mother’s voice and actions had been as she’d hidden her panic and fear from her daughters. “He took the big brown suitcase and his clothes.”

“But he didn’t say goodbye!” Ruby had cried. “He must be coming back.”

“I don’t think so,” her mother had said, ineffectively dousing hope. “You girls had best set your minds to the fact that your daddy’s gone for good.”

Pearl had cried, and their mother had wiped her tears and hugged her.

“He’ll come back,” Ruby had stated emphatically, sure of it. Certain he wouldn’t just leave them without a word of explanation.

When her mother had reached to comfort her, she’d angrily slid from her chair and run out the back door. People didn’t just give up on the ones they loved. But with every day and week and month that had passed, her hope had faded.

She’d never stopped wishing. Wishing he’d return with hugs and gifts and assurance that he loved her. Wishing life wasn’t so hard for her mother, for all of them. But Ruby had also grown determined. She would not spend her life here, lonely and fading like dry flowers in the heat—like her mother. She was going to see places, meet people, live life without boundaries.

Obviously, the sight of the portrait had been too painful for her mother, so she’d hidden it away. Ruby set it on the bureau beside pictures of herself and Pearl as May Day fairies, with flowers in their hair, winding streamers around the maypole. She tested how she felt with the wedding picture in plain view.

Her father hadn’t married Laura with the intent of leaving. He’d obviously loved her and planned a life together. What had pulled him away?

Maybe his leaving hadn’t reflected on her or her sister. Maybe it hadn’t been her mother’s fault. Maybe he’d simply had a wandering spirit, and nothing could have tied him to this land.

Ruby discovered she liked the happy memories of her and her sister as children and her parents young and in love. The portrait reminded her she had been a part of a family once. They were all gone now, and her only relations were Nash and Pearl’s two children. She was going to have to learn to get along with him—and somehow prove herself to him. She would look at the faces of her parents and sister in the morning and at night to remember the good times and remind herself what was important.

A glance at the clock told her it was time to prepare supper, so she put away the clothing and cleaning supplies.

Her lack of foresight had left her with few choices for a meal. Tomorrow she would go into Crosby and buy supplies.

Out back of the house, she eyed the chickens in the pen. She had no idea what to do with a chicken, but she sure liked them fried, so she went in search of her brother-in-law.

* * *

“Hello?”

At the sound of her husky voice, Nash set down a bucket and straightened.

Startled that Ruby had sought him out, he met her in the opening of the barn door, where the late afternoon sun sent shafts of light across the hard-packed dirt. She walked into one of them, and the sun lit her hair like fool’s gold. “Can you spare a few minutes?”

“What do you want?”

“I wondered if you’d show me how to get a chicken ready to cook.”

Having her here made things agonizingly complex. He didn’t want to help her, but she did seem to be making an effort to do something useful. His belly was already grumbling.

She planted her hands on her hips. “I want to learn. And I really want to eat.”

He grabbed his hat and settled it on his head as he strode out the door. Since she was bound and determined to get in the way of a day’s work, he might as well get a meal out of her effort. “Got hot water ready?”

“No.”

“Not boiling, just hot enough to scald. Sit a big pot on the back porch there.”

She hurried to do his bidding, and returned minutes later.

“Don’t eat the sitters,” he explained. “If they’re on nests in the henhouse, let ’em be. You have to pay attention to know which ones lay regularly.”

She followed him into the pen.

“That one’s a rooster.” He pointed. “I didn’t know till it crowed the other day. Grab it by the feet and hang it upside down, so it won’t flap its wings.” It took Nash a couple minutes to demonstrate a humane kill and preparation.

If he’d thought she’d be squeamish, he was wrong. She watched the process with interest, listening as he explained, watching as he scalded the bird and pulled off the loose feathers.

“What about all these little ones that are left?”

“Burn ’em off over the stove. Then cut it into pieces for frying.”

She took the plucked bird from him. “Thank you, Nash.”

Simple words, but in that throaty voice, they seemed to hold more meaning. She made things personal with that voice. She had the uncanny ability to make him feel something besides anger and grief, and he didn’t like it.

He nodded and went back to his work. He had responsibilities, and tomorrow didn’t take care of itself.

His wife’s sister was persistent and would hound him until he answered her questions. He carried an uneasy feeling about what she wanted to talk about. He’d been working at the mill until he’d married Pearl. She and her mother had been hanging on to the Dearing farm and scraping by. He’d offered to take over farming if that was what they wanted, but Laura had been ready to let him do whatever he wanted with the land.

It had always been his dream to raise horses, and these acres held rolling hills of pasture and fields ripe for hay. It had been a sensible arrangement for them to share the big house with Pearl’s mother, and Laura had welcomed Nash and later their children.

Laura Dearing hadn’t deserved the hairpin turns life had dealt her. She’d been a kindhearted, devout woman who loved her family and should have had a husband at her side. She should have lived to a ripe old age and seen her grandchildren’s children.

And Pearl. She’d worked hard and sacrificed to help him get the ranch going. Their marriage had been convenient for both of them. She got a husband to take over the land and provide for her and her mother. He got the ranch he’d always wanted. He’d been preoccupied with the business end of things and the work. He’d figured there would be plenty of time for them to grow closer once the ranch was thriving. At least that’s what he’d thought until their life together had been cut short.

He’d already learned enough about Ruby to know there’d be no avoiding her if she was determined to ask questions and get answers. He steeled himself for the inevitable.

* * *

Ruby was smart enough to know the men worked till dusk before stopping to eat, so she waited until she was sure they’d be coming before she set food on the table.

The back door opened and the three men entered the kitchen. They had already removed their hats and were freshly washed. Their gazes shot directly to the table laden with steaming beans, biscuits and fried chicken.