Glory (32 page)

“If,
if
he caught up!” Dropping her hands, she resumed pacing.

Dylan pulled up a chair and sat down. He removed his hat and carefully settled it on his knee. His relaxed position clearly didn’t set well with the serious brunette. Ruth shot him an annoyed look.

He lifted his palms defensively. “What? I’m just trying to stay calm.”

“If you were any
calmer
, they’d be shoveling dirt in your face, Dylan McCall.” She craned to see around the porch post. Where were they?
Lord, I can’t stand the suspense a moment longer!

“All right. I surrender. Stew till you lose your mind. I won’t say another word.” Dylan crossed one leg over the other, folded his arms, and stared at Ruth. The arrogant posture only angered her more, and she stared back. He lifted a brow. “Now I suppose you’re going to tell me there’s a law against a man sitting on a porch?”

“Can’t you find someone else to annoy?”

He appeared to consider it and then shook his head. “No, I get my enjoyment stepping on
your
nerves.”

“Oooph!” Ruth gathered up her skirt and moved to the far corner of the porch.

Grinning, Dylan took out a toothpick and stuck it between his lips, rolling it to the corner of his mouth. “Yes, sir, Ruth. I’m as calm as pudding.”

Across the street, Lily, Patience, and Mary came out of the café. Harper lagged behind, talking to the owner, a small, frail lady who was raising a nine-year-old granddaughter.

“Did you hear the questions Harper was asking Mrs. Katsky?” Lily asked. “You’d almost think she was interested in buying the café.”

“It would be a perfect job for her,” Patience admitted. The three girls agreed there wasn’t another woman on earth who could make a better apple pie.

“Her pot roasts cannot be beat,” Mary confessed. “Only Harper can’t buy a café. She doesn’t have any money.”

The girls smiled when they saw the pastor coming across the street. Smiling in turn, Arthur Siddons hurried to greet them.

“Hello, Pastor Siddons,” Lily called.

“Hello, girls! Been searching all over for you!” The balding, plumpish sixty-year-old paused before them, his round face beaming.

Patience waited for him to catch his breath. “Was there something special you wanted, Pastor?”

“Yes, yes!” He took her hand, squeezing it firmly. “I’ve just come from a meeting. The church board wants me to extend an invitation to you ladies to remain here in Denver City for the winter.”

Delighted smiles lit the women’s faces. “That’s wonderful, Pastor Siddons!” Patience sobered. “But how? We have no means of support—”

“We discussed that,” Pastor conceded. “Tom Wyatt is a heinous man, and unfortunately we have no control over what he and his no-account boys do, but the folks of Denver City are good people. We want to extend our hospitality until spring. By then you ladies will have decided what you’ll need to do, and the weather will be more cooperative.” He pulled his collar up closer against the bitter wind. “Harry Rexell says he can use a hand at the mercantile, and Rosalee Edwards said she’s going to need extra help at the millinery over the holidays. Imagine we can find enough work to keep you all busy until spring!”

“Oh, thank you!” Patience threw her arms around the older man’s neck and hugged him.

Red-faced, the pastor stepped back, grinning lamely. “Oh, my, it’s our pleasure, miss. Having five pretty new faces in town won’t hurt the feelings of our single men one bit. Five
eligible
ladies, I might add.”

“Six,” Mary reminded softly.

The girls looked at each other, sobering.

“Six, when Glory gets here.”

Pastor Siddons nodded. “Your friends still haven’t arrived?” He shook his head, making a clucking noise. “We can send a search party now that the weather’s broken—”

“Thank you, Pastor. Marshall McCall insists that they’re all right and will ride in any time. I’ll talk to the marshall again, and we’ll let you know what we decide.”

“Good, good.” Pastor Siddons rubbed his gloved hands together. “May I tell the church that you will stay? They can’t wait to lend a Christian hand. Why, old Mrs. Guffey already has all of you down for Christmas dinner at her house. She cooks a mighty fine turkey.”

Patience glanced at Lily and Mary. The girls nodded happily. “And I’m sure Harper will be happy to stay. She might even find work at the café.”

Pastor Siddons clamped a hand over his heart and nearly swooned. “Etta Katsky would be plumb tickled pink to find good help. She’s trying to get by with her nine-year-old granddaughter waiting tables, but she’s getting worn to a nubbin with all the extra work.”

Mary stepped closer, extending her hand. “Thank you for all your kindness, Pastor Siddons. I don’t know what we would have done without your help.”

“You’re welcome, Mary. And Doc says he wants to see you at his office this morning. Thinks he might have something for that cough.”

Siddons walked on, calling a friendly greeting to a young couple coming across the street.

Patience, Lily, and Mary walked on, casting curious looks toward the mercantile.

“Poor Ruth. She hasn’t slept a wink for the last week.”

“She’s terribly worried.”

“We all are.”

Patience frowned. “Don’t know who she’s more worried about, Jackson or Glory.”

“Everyone’s worried sick about both,” Lily said. “What can be keeping them?” Silence overtook them since no one dared to speak of the dire possibilities.

Lily finally whispered under her breath. “Does it seem to you that Dylan is awfully interested in Ruth? They argue constantly, but I think they really like each other.”

Mary and Patience spared a brief glance in the direction of the mercantile porch, and then looked straight ahead. A giggle escaped Mary.

“What’s so funny?” Lily asked.

“Ruth and Dylan. She’s so serious and he’s so . . . not serious, unless he’s doing his job. They would make a fine pair.”

The thought of their contrasting natures resulted in a round of giggles.

Lily jabbed Patience’s ribs. “Shhh, they’ll hear us!”

“Can’t help it,” Patience gasped. “Wouldn’t that be something? Ruth and Dylan married?”

Dylan shifted the toothpick to the other corner of his mouth. Leaning back in the chair, he watched Lily, Patience, and Mary walking on the opposite side of the street. Fine girls. They’d make some lucky men good wives one of these days.

“So, Ruth. What do you think about the price of corn?”

Ruth slowly turned around to look at him. “What?”

He lifted his brows. “What do you think about the price of corn?”

“I haven’t an earthly idea what corn sells for these days.”

“What about an unearthly one?”

She gave him a dirty look.

“None, huh.” He removed the toothpick and stared at it.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to know the price of
corn
?”

“I don’t. Just trying to find a subject we can discuss without ruffling your feathers.”

“Don’t even try.” Ruth turned back to watching the road. “And corn certainly won’t do it.”

“There’s got to be something I can say that won’t get your dander up—”

“Try ‘I’ll be leaving now, Ruth.’” She brushed past him, nearly toppling his chair, and he had to grab for the railing.

Springing to his feet, he spit the toothpick on the floor and yelled at her disappearing skirts. “Come on, Ruth! Hey, you want to get married? We get along so well; we would make a fine—where’s your faith, woman?”

He ducked, grinning as an apple sailed over his head and hit the front window of the mercantile. Scowling, Harry Rexell burst out a second later, broom in hand.

Dylan turned and innocently pointed at Ruth.

Snatching her skirt in her hand, she stalked off to the other end of the wraparound porch.

Grinning, Dylan flipped Harry a coin. “For the lady’s apple.”

Pocketing the coin, Harry stared after Ruth sourly. “Well, tell her that around here, we prefer to eat ’em, not throw ’em at folks’ windows.”

The men turned at the sound of a horse galloping into town. Shouts went up as Patience, Lily, and Mary ran to meet the new arrivals.

Grinning from ear to ear, Glory slowed and walked the mare through the center of town with Jackson, bandaged hand and all, riding behind her.

“Where have you been?” Patience shouted, running beside the horse. Lily and Mary raced to keep up.

“Had a little trouble, but we’re here now,” Glory called back. Her eyes darted to Mary. “Don’t run, Mary! You’ll start coughing!”

Ruth raced around the corner, holding her skirts. Her eyes lit when she recognized the riders. “Glory! Jackson! Praise God you’re all right!”

“Saw me an angel, Ruth!”

Ruth frowned. “You what?”

Glory beamed. “Saw me an angel! Looked a little like Poppy!”

A curious crowd started to gather. Patience, Lily, Mary, and Ruth pressed close as Glory dismounted and helped Jackson from the saddle.

“What’s wrong? We were about to send a search party after you,” Patience exclaimed.

Ruth enfolded Glory, and the two women hugged. “I was so scared something had happened,” Ruth whispered.

“We got caught in the blizzard. Jackson was wounded and lost a lot of blood. We couldn’t travel for a few days. I’m sorry if we worried you.”

“What’s this about an angel?”

Glory pressed her ear close to Ruth’s. “Tell you all about it later on. Right now, Jackson needs attention.”

They shared another brief embrace, and Ruth said softly, “Just so you’re safe; that’s all that matters.”

Ruth turned her eyes on Jackson. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, Ruth.” He glanced at Glory and smiled. “She took good care of me.”

Glory flushed at the praise. “Shucks, anyone could do what I did. Used the snow and my hankie to stop the bleeding. The good Lord provided us an elk to keep us from freezing. When the storm passed, we set out and came to a cabin, where an old hermit who knew about herbs and such helped us.”

Dylan joined the noisy reunion. He clapped Jackson on the back, relief evident in his eyes. “About to send the dogs out,” he said.

Jackson smiled. “I was about to hope you would.” The men exchanged a few brief words in private.

“Better have that hand looked at,” someone in the crowd suggested.

“Doc’s in his office now.”

The crowd cheered as Glory put her arm around Jackson to help support his weight and led him across the street.

“I can walk,” he protested under his breath. “Stop mothering me.”

“Plan to—just as soon as I know you’re going to live,” she whispered back. Leaning closer, she added, “Put too much effort in you to lose you now.”

Grinning, he met her eyes and said quietly, “Lady, you couldn’t lose me if you tried.”

Dylan caught up with Ruth as she walked toward the café. “I’m waiting.”

“For what? The price of corn? I told you, I don’t know anything about corn.”

“For an apology. I told you Jackson and Glory were all right.”

Color dotted her cheeks. “Don’t start with me, Dylan. For all you knew, they could have both been dead.”

“But they weren’t.”

“They could have been!”

Grinning, he looked hurt. “Are we going to fight, or are you going to kiss me good-bye?”

Her footsteps faltered. Slowing, she turned to face him. Her features softened. “Are you leaving?”

Their eyes met and held. The teasing light was gone from his. “A wire came through about half an hour ago. I’m due in San Francisco in a few weeks. Now that Jackson and Glory are back safe, I have to move on.”

Color drained from her face. “But the weather. It’s so bad—”

Laying a finger across her lips, he said quietly, “Take care of yourself, Ruth.”

Nodding, she caught his hand and held it for a moment, her eyes closed. “Be careful, Dylan McCall.”

“You know me, Ruthie. I’m always careful.”

She looked up, tears moistening her eyes. “No one calls me Ruthie unless they’re given permission.”

Leaning closer, he whispered against her ear, “That’s my next project.”

She swallowed back tears. “Will I ever see you again?”