“There’s that new sheriff, Zach Gillepsie. He’s got a good job, and he’s not half bad on the eyes,” Annabelle suggested, raising her brows at Meg. “I saw you flirting with him in town last week.”
Meg glanced at Annabelle. Yes, she’d flirted a little with Zach, and he’d seemed to reciprocate her attention. Would he consider marrying her and taking on her two sisters and herself?
Ruby raised her brows at Meg. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Meg.”
“Why? Because I dress like a man?” she growled, raising her voice in frustration. For being so smart, her youngest sister could say the stupidest things.
“No, I just wasn’t sure you wanted a husband and children.”
“And just when do you think I would have had the time or the opportunity to show I’m interested in courting? Deke is the only man who has come around here, except for Papa. I seldom go into town,” she replied, her voice raised, and her eyes focused on her bratty sister. “I’m still a girl with dreams.”
A hush fell over the table, and Meg sighed and waited a moment, trying to quell her frustration with her youngest sister. “What’s the plan? Are we looking for husbands or getting jobs?”
“I’m looking for a job,” Annabelle declared. “There’s not a man on that list who’s worth having, except for Zach, and you’ve got dibs on him. Maybe if Deke returns.”
Annabelle turned her gaze on Ruby with a do-not-mess-with-me glare.
Ruby gave her a smirk. “Deke is mine.”
“No ring,” Annabelle reminded her.
Ruby raised her brows and gave her a haughty look. “Believe me, when I tell you I know just how to get Mr. Culver.” She smiled a knowing sneer. “You don’t stand a chance.”
“You little witch!” Annabelle spat.
“Stop it, you two!” Meg exclaimed. “We’re in serious trouble. Unless you want to make your living on your backs, then you need to pay attention and quit fighting over Deke. I doubt he would have either one of you.”
Meg didn’t know if that was true or not, but she was tired of listening to the two of them argue over a man she really didn’t think was all that interested in either one of them. And they’d both acted like a fool over him the last time he was here. Poor man would probably never return.
“I’m keeping my options open on the men. There may be one who comes along I take a hankering to. But in the meantime, I’ll see what kind of job I can get,” Ruby said, turning her face away from Annabelle and speaking directly to Meg.
“Good. I’m going to find a job,” Meg said.
“What about Zach?” Annabelle asked.
Zach was an unknown. Yes, he was a man she could consider tying herself to, but if he wasn’t interested, then she’d need a back-up plan. Hell, maybe she needed both. All she knew for sure was she needed someone to help her save the farm.
“I’ll talk to Zach and, if I get the feeling he might be interested, I’ll ask him about marriage,” Meg replied. “So all three of us are going to town tomorrow to find jobs.”
“Looks like it,” Annabelle confirmed, laying the quill down.
Ruby sighed and put her chin in her hand. “A job. I can’t believe I’m going to work.”
“And what a lovely little waitress you’ll make.” Annabelle teased her.
“I wouldn’t be making fun of me. You might be the one with the waitress job, while I’m working at the mercantile or something more lucrative.”
“I didn’t know being a scullery maid was such a lucrative job.”
“What’s a scullery maid?”
“You clean and scour the floor, stoves, dishes.”
“Ewww. It’s bad enough doing that here. I hope I find something better,” Ruby said.
They all laughed. It was good to hear laughter once again in the house. Papa was gone. They would always miss him just like they missed their mother, but for the first time in days, Meg felt more secure about the future. They had a plan. They had a focus. And now they could start working to pay off the bank.
*
Ruby couldn’t believe she was working for one of the richest families in the town. Scrubbing floors and cleaning the outhouse wasn’t what she dreamed of doing for the rest of her life. But there were times a girl had to help the family, and this was one of those times.
After her father’s death, losing the farm would be like her parents dying all over again. In all of her life, she’d never felt so devastated as when her father had passed. She barely remembered her mother, and now her father was dead.
She wrung out the rags in the pail of water and once again applied the wet soapy cloth to the floor. On her hands and knees, she scrubbed the floor and hummed as she worked. Frankly, cleaning the outhouse could only be compared to scrubbing the chicken coop at home. And knowing Meg, Ruby would still be required to clean up after those nasty chickens. When she was rich with a family of her own, she’d never make her children do such horrible jobs. She’d never have a job cleaning outhouses and chicken coops.
“Hi,” a deep male voice called from behind her.
She jumped at his greeting and then glanced up from her place on the floor. It was Clay Mullens, the owner’s oldest son, a bachelor of approximately eighteen years of age. “You’re new,” he said, his brown eyes twinkling.
Tall with a dark curl of hair coming across his forehead, he was the type of man any girl would want. And suddenly Ruby wondered why she and her sisters had forgotten to put him on their list? Maybe because he was way out of their social range. His father was even richer than the banker. There was no way a Mullens’ boy would find himself marrying one of the McKenzie girls.
She rose from the floor and curtsied. “Yes. My name is Ruby.”
He reached out to shake her hand, and she stepped back. “Oh no, I’ve been cleaning the floor. My hands are nasty.”
He laughed and grabbed her hand. “Nice to meet you, Ruby. I’m not afraid of a little dirt.”
His flesh felt warm and soft, and his smile had probably broken many hearts. Slowly, he released her hand. She couldn’t help noticing the way his eyes were trained on her breasts, and for a moment, a nervous tremor went through her. She was being silly. He was just an immature boy who was curious about the female body.
She smiled at him. He was very nice on the eyes and had a pleasant smile and so far a nice personality.
“You don’t look like you’re old enough to be out of school,” he commented.
“I finished this year,” she said, feeling uncomfortable. If the news of how she’d been expelled got around, she could lose this job, and her sisters needed her pay.
“What about you?” she asked. “Are you in school?”
He sat down on the edge of the table in the kitchen. “I’m going back East to attend college this fall. Until then, I’m having fun.”
“Sounds lovely,” she responded, wishing her life were so simple.
“Not as lovely as you,” he flirted.
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” she responded, giving him her best coquettish smile. “I probably should get back to work before you get me fired.”
“Oh, you’re not getting fired. I’ll make certain of that,” he promised.
She heard his mother calling his name and watched as a frown appeared on his face. He glanced one more time at her.
“That’s a summons from my mother, so I’d better respond.” He stood and winked at her. “See you around.”
She winked back at him. “Later.”
Well, at least the scenery would be nice while she worked around here.
*
“Someday my dress designs will be in windows, and women will be ordering their wardrobe from me,” Meg yelled and slammed the door.
Bitches!
The urge to take out her gun and pepper her initials in their wall was overwhelming, but she resisted.
Moisture welled up in her eyes, and she clenched her hands so tight her fingernails cut into her palms to keep the tears from falling. No tears. She refused to give in to this weakness here in the middle of Main Street.
Why could no one see the real Meg hidden inside? Why could they not see the woman she longed to become? Why did no one want to give her a chance?
She walked down the wooden sidewalk, her boots making clunking noises as she stomped away from the ladies’ shop. They didn’t believe she could sew. They didn’t believe she had an eye for women’s fashion. And yet, she couldn’t argue with them. She didn’t own a dress. Since she’d turned sixteen, she’d given up her only dress to Annabelle because it dragged in the mud when Meg worked around the farm. But that didn’t mean she didn’t long to wear pretty dresses and be considered a lady. That didn’t mean she couldn’t sketch a beautiful outfit, design the pattern, and then sew the dress, complete with lace tatting.
No, in this small town, her reputation for wearing pants had just kept her from getting a job. Even after the woman had seen Meg’s dress designs, she’d still refused to hire Meg.
What if she didn’t find any work? What would happen to them if they lost the farm?
She walked past the Chinese laundry. A “help wanted” sign sat in the window. Stopping, Meg plastered a smile on her face and entered the small establishment that smelled of starch and steam.
A man in what looked like white pajamas stared at her as she entered the building.
“You no wear dress?”
Good grief
. Even in a Chinese laundry she had to answer questions as to why she didn’t wear a dress.
She ignored his remark. “I’m looking for a job. I’m a seamstress. I can make repairs, sew buttons, sew clothes. Do you need help?”
“If you sew, why no wear dress?” he asked.
“Because I don’t own one that fits,” she responded, her voice raised as frustration grabbed her by the throat. God, she wanted to dress like a woman, really she did. But there were no funds for fancy clothes. And she could wear her Papa’s pants without purchasing anything new.
He frowned at her and eyed her suspiciously. “Start tomorrow morning at eight. I pay you a nickel a piece.”
“A nickel a piece? Not enough. I need at least a dime a piece.”
“How do I know you sew? You start at nickel, and we’ll see how you work out.”
Meg frowned. She needed this job, and so far this was her only hope. “All right. I’ll be here at eight in the morning. But once I prove I can sew, I’ll expect a raise.”
He shrugged. “Don’t be late.”
“Thank you.” She walked out the door and hurried back toward the main part of town. A job. She’d gone from the pits of despair to at least being given a chance. Yet, he was paying her terrible wages. She would have to fix or repair one hundred pieces just to earn five dollars.
With a heavy heart, she walked toward her horse. This morning she’d let Annabelle and Ruby take the buggy while she’d ridden her horse into town. Getting them all to town on time every morning, plus doing their chores, was going to be a challenge. They had no choice, but to cope or face the consequences of losing the farm.
Passing the sheriff’s office, she halted and peered in the window. Zach sat there writing in a notebook, his dark hair cropped short, his strong cheekbones held a shadow of stubble. She sighed as she peeked in the window at him. The sheriff was a muscular man who had her heart racing a little faster when she gazed at him.
No one else was in the calaboose. She stepped back and opened the door.
He glanced up from his paper and smiled. “Meg, good to see you.”
“You too, Zach.” Her heart did a little flutter when she looked at the handsome cowboy. His brawny body, warm smile and dark hair were enough to make a girl’s tongue get all tied up in knots. Even Meg’s tongue.
“I’m sorry to hear about your father.” His big eyes darkened with sympathy, and she had the urge to fall into his arms and let him comfort her. But that was ridiculous. They hadn’t even shared a kiss or done any courtin’ whatsoever, and she wanted to fall into his arms? Hardly.
“Yes, it was so unexpected,” she said, grief swelled up inside her at the thought of her papa, almost choking her with the ache. When would the pain become bearable? Every time she thought of him, it was like her chest squeezed, and she could feel tears forming. No tears. There could be no tears. “Do you have a moment?”
“Of course. Have a seat. Can I get you some water, something to drink? We don’t have much here in the jail.”
Sinking down into a wooden chair across from the big man, she tried to calm her rattled nerves. “No, I’m fine.” She took a deep breath, trying to control her pounding heart. How do you begin to ask a man to marry you? How do you start? What do you say to persuade him to marry a pants-wearing woman with more responsibilities than she deserved at this stage in life?
He leaned back in his chair and considered her, his gaze leaving her warm and tingly.
“You’ve always been nice to me.”
“Well, of course. A man would be crazy not to be nice to a pretty woman like yourself,” he said, smiling at her, his earthy brown eyes twinkling, leaving her even more ruffled.
Meg did her best to return his smile. Maybe he was the answer to her prayers. “With Papa’s death, it’s just me and the girls living out at the farm. It’s hard not to have a man in our lives.”
Zach leaned forward. “Meg, any time you need help, let me know. I’ll do whatever I can to help you girls out. It’s the least I can do. Your dad was a good man.”
“Thanks.” Meg wondered if she should use some of the tactics her youngest sister utilized—flash her eyes at him, flirt, and put a pout on her lips—but that was just weird. It made her cringe when she thought of pulling a Ruby stunt. Yet, they worked for her youngest sister.
“The girls and I would love for you to come to dinner,” she said, twisting her hands in her lap, more nervous than a bride on her wedding night.
“That would be nice. I get tired of eating my own cooking or what’s served at the restaurant. I’d love some home cooking.”
She didn’t know how to flirt and bat her eyes at a man. She didn’t know how to be coy and seductive. She didn’t play cat and mouse games with anyone. She was a straight shooter. A woman who told you like it was, and if you didn’t want to play, then get out of the way. She didn’t know how to play flirtatious games.
Nerves gripped her insides like a dog with a meaty bone. “Look, I’m not good at this flirting stuff. You’re nice to me, and I hope it’s more than just being friendly.” She paused and then took the plunge. “I need a husband. And you were my first choice.”