Letter Perfect ( Book #1) (11 page)

The next morning Josh saw Toledo standing at the stable door, peering at something. Wondering what it was, he strode out of the stable and ran straight into Ruth. “What’re you doing here?” he barked as he grabbed her arms to keep from knocking her over.

“Laney and I are going to take a ride.”

“I specifically ordered you not to come to the stable alone.”

“I didn’t.” Ruth stood her ground and told that lie without blinking.

Toledo silently slipped off. Josh frowned, both at the hand’s behavior and Ruth’s lie. “No one’s with you.”

“Your sister will be with me in just a moment.”

“Where is she?”

“She paused a moment.”

“Paused?” When Ruth’s cheeks went red, Josh felt like a dolt for not immediately understanding her meaning. He tugged on the basket hanging from her arm. “What do you have in here?”

“Onions.”

“You’re not feeding my livestock onions!”

“Of course I won’t. These are intended for Mr. O’Sullivan.”

He folded his arms akimbo. “After yesterday, you can’t blame a man for wondering. You brought half a pantry into my stable with you.”

Ruth smiled at his assertion. “Come, now. It was only a carrot, an apple, and a little sugar.”

“I’ve never once fed a lump of sugar that size to a horse.” He cast a glance at the onions and let out a gusty sigh. “Do you usually haul around fruits and vegetables to meet animals and people?”

“Flowers are nice, too.” She didn’t bat an eye at his tongue-incheek question. “Laney and I met Galen O’Sullivan in town yesterday. His father is ailing, so Laney promised them onions.”

“I need to see Galen. I’ll take the onions.”

“Oh, no! Really, we want to go.”

She sounded entirely too enthusiastic. Josh’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“After reading all about them, I want to see the Pony Express horses. Then, too, I ought to meet our neighbor.”

Our neighbor? Yesterday it wasn’t a slip of the tongue when she called this
our
ranch. She’s changed her mind from not necessarily wanting the land to
being dead set on claiming a share of the Broken P
.

Oblivious to his dark thoughts, Ruth went on. “Laney sang Mrs. O’Sullivan’s praises.”

“Kelly O’Sullivan’s a good woman.” Josh thought for a moment. “I’ll take you and Laney over, but I can’t afford to wait for you to visit all morning. How well do you ride?”

“In a lady’s saddle—”

Josh closed his eyes in horror. She used a sidesaddle? They didn’t even have one anywhere on the Broken P.

“—I’m an absolute disaster. In a western saddle, I’m quite adept—if I do say so myself.”

“Sidesaddles are deathtraps out here. We don’t have any.”

“Oh, good!” Ruth’s face lit up. “Miss Pettigrew and Mrs. Raventhal—they were the headmistresses at the last two schools I attended—both insisted upon sidesaddles. They’re terribly oldfashioned and miserable.”

“The headmistresses or the saddles?”

Ruth burst out laughing. “Both!”

He filed away the implication that she’d been a pupil at more than one of those fancy schools. Tempted to inquire about the details, he squelched his questions. Doing so would go against the “Code of the West.” Folks left behind their failures, shortcomings, and history when they crossed the Mississippi. Everyone deserved a fresh chance—a tacit understanding men out here extended to one another. After her admission yesterday that she’d not succeeded at being society’s darling, Josh figured he owed her the same opportunity. That determination didn’t cancel his curiosity, though. Ruth rated as the most enigmatic woman he’d ever met.

He decided to see if she’d chatter and reveal more about herself if given the opportunity. “So you attended more than one school?”

“Several.” She wrinkled her nose. “Actually, now that I think about it, the headmistresses were worse than the saddles. I survived them, but they were all certain they wouldn’t survive keeping me around. In case you haven’t noticed, I tend more toward disastrous than decorous.”

“Hmm.” He couldn’t come up with a polite way of agreeing with her assessment.

Shrugging, she said, “I can’t honestly say I regret slipping away from a vapid poetry recitation to go fishing. Fishing is far more interesting. Then, too, I’d be lying to say I’d ever remember any of those moves with the fan to convey a message. I’d likely rest it against the wrong cheek and signal no when I meant yes. If God meant for a woman to talk with a fan, He would have created her with one attached to the wrist and not given her a mouth.” She let out a little laugh. “And plainly, my mouth is with me wherever I go; the same cannot be said of my fan.”

He chuckled and didn’t voice the opinion that a fan might have been an improvement on a select few women he knew. Josh admired Ruth for coming away from what had probably been unhappy situations with a sense of humor. In all fairness, some of the affectations drilled into young girls rated as ludicrous. He had to agree that fishing rated far above poetry recitation, too.

“When Laney returned home, half the stuff she learned at that fancy finishing school was nonsense. She’s still kept some odd notions, but Dad and I let her have ’em.”

“Your sister is delightful.”

“Yeah, she is.” Maybe Ruth wasn’t quite as bumbling as she thought. Perhaps the places she went were ridiculously outdated in their expectations. “Laney’s school put the gals in buggies instead of sticking them in sidesaddles.”

“Sidesaddle?” Laney echoed as she walked up. “Those are dreadfully old-fashioned. The pictures look so romantic, though.”

“There’s nothing romantic about falling off and nursing a crop of bruises,” Ruth said.

“Oh my!” Laney gave her a startled look. “Are you able to ride in a regular saddle, or shall we take the buckboard?”

“I can ride.” Ruth looked down and scuffed the toe of her shoe in the dirt. “And I’ve fired a pistol, too. Just don’t ask about my aim.”

Staring at her in disbelief, Josh rasped, “You own a gun?”

She looked up at him. “I couldn’t very well travel across the nation without some form of protection.”

“Where is it?”

“Up in my room. The housekeeper’s husband bought a muff pistol for me. It’s really quite pretty.”

“Is it loaded?”

“It wouldn’t do me any good if it weren’t.” Ruth shrugged. “Then again, I’m not sure it would have done me any good, anyway. I never did manage to shoot a single one of the jars Hadley lined up for me to hit.”

Josh decided then and there he’d gain possession of that little pistol before she hurt herself or someone else.

“I’m far better with a knife,” Ruth said. “I don’t mean to sound boastful, but I can hit just about anything with my knife.”

Yeah, just about anything except what she’d aim at. This woman is a
menace.

“Really?” Laney’s voice carried wonderment.

“Hadley taught me when I was about nine. He was our handyman and said every woman ought to have a trick or two up her sleeve to defend herself. Mama believed staying in good company was protection enough, but with my penchant for finding trouble, Hadley decided it just made sense for me to carry a little something.”

“Let me get this right.” Josh glowered at Ruth. “You’ve carried a knife?”

“But you’ve never had to use it.” Laney patted Ruth’s arm.

Ruth blushed.

“Whom did you hit?” Josh gave her an accusing look.

“Not who,” Ruth hedged. “What.” She hitched her shoulder as if the whole matter were inconsequential. When Josh gave her a stern look, she grudgingly provided, “A hat.”

“And just who,” he demanded, “was wearing the hat at that time?”

“The mayor.” Ruth’s chin tilted in defiance. “But he had no business skulking in the bushes when we were playing croquet. Mrs. Spandler about had kittens over the incident, and I couldn’t convince her that I knew precisely where the knife would land. All she could do was imagine my committing murder while attending her school.”

That accounted for her dismissal from one place. So far, she’d named three headmistresses. Given this recent revelation, Josh didn’t doubt for a single moment that the count would continue to rise. Wondering what else she’d done and fearing what more she might do, Josh demanded, “Do you always carry a knife with you?”

Ruth nodded.

He stuck out his hand in a silent command.

She passed the basket of onions to Laney. Slipping the fingers of her right hand up her left sleeve, Ruth didn’t even look down. A second later, she produced a four-inch ivory piece. “It’s springloaded. Be careful not to press the button.”

He took the knife and hit the button. A three-and-one-halfinch blade swung out and clicked into place.

“Wow.” Laney gawked at Ruth. “All I put up my sleeve is a hanky or a fan.”

“You don’t need this anymore.”

“That’s for me to decide.” Ruth swiped back the knife, snapped the blade closed, and slipped it up her sleeve. “The West is reputed to be quite wild. I’m better able to take care of myself with this in my possession.”

You’re every bit as wild as the West
. While that thought flashed through his mind, Josh watched as Ruth smoothed her skirts.

If that quintessentially feminine action weren’t enough, she turned to Laney and gently rearranged the shawl to drape over her shoulder. “There. We can’t let you catch a chill. Oh, you look so very lovely. Have I told you how reassuring it is not to have to take a calling card? I was seeing to so many details before I left home, I failed to pack many.”

Josh looked at Ruth, doting on Laney and fussing. Given half a chance, perhaps she’d calm down and settle in. She’d figure out she didn’t need that puny knife or have to do a man’s work.
Time
and a little patience—that’s what she needs
.

She’d grown up without a father or brother to shield her. And she was beautiful enough to turn just about any man’s head. Those realities suddenly took on a whole different significance. Josh figured he shouldn’t be insulted that she wanted to safeguard herself. She didn’t know any better. With time, she’d learn to trust him. Until then, if a little bitty knife gave her a sense of safety, he wouldn’t kick. “You go ahead and carry that knife as long as you think you need to, Ruthie.”

“I will.”

“But I get the gun.”

“It’s too small for you. It would practically fall out of your holster.”

“I don’t plan to carry it. I just don’t want you to.”

“Then it’s perfectly fine up in my bedchamber.” Ruth’s face lit up as she looked at Laney. “Maybe we could talk Galen into teaching us how to shoot it!”

Josh gritted, “Over my dead body.”

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

A
ll ready, my love.” Galen gave the mare an affectionate pat on the withers. He took up the reins, led the snappy little mustang out to the fence, and tied her there. She tossed her head and whinnied as if eager to get to her job.

“Expecting an exchange, I see,” Josh called out as he rode up, flanked by a young woman on either side.

“The rider’s due anywhere from ten minutes to a half hour from now.”

“You don’t know the precise time?” Laney asked.

“Horses can’t tell time, lass.” Galen reached up to help Laney dismount. “Did you listen to me and buy something pink yesternoon?”

“I did.”

He turned to assist Miss Caldwell down, but he was too late; Josh beat him to it.
A shame, that
. Galen rather enjoyed the odd way they’d met yesterday when she fell from the boardwalk. He made a mental note to be sure to help her mount up again when she took her leave. “And you, Miss Caldwell—did you find anything that suited you?”

“The only fabric Laney didn’t suggest I needed was the red flannel you bought.” Ruth smiled at him. “I think she’s of the opinion that as long as she keeps me sewing, I’ll stay here.”

“Then we’ll have to be sure Lester stocks plenty of material at the mercantile.”

“I brought onions for your daddy.” Laney touched his arm. “How’s he feeling?”

“He was still asleep when I left the house. Run on up and find out for yourself. I’m sure Ma would love to see you.”

Ruth lagged back. “Will it be too taxing for your parents to have guests?”

“Nay, not a-tall.” Galen shook his head. “You’re new here, but you’ll find out fast that the door’s always open at the O’Sullivans’. Da and Ma love folks droppin’ in. ’Tis a blessing to have the company of friends.”

Laney tugged on his sleeve. “You’ll call us out when the rider comes, won’t you?”

“No need. You’ll hear the hooves a-flyin’. Ma likes to give the riders a bit to eat or drink. Mayhap you could bring that out this time.”

“How exciting!” Laney turned loose of him, grabbed Ruth’s hand, and headed for the house.

When they were out of earshot, Josh murmured, “Laney’s got it bad for you.”

“She’ll get o’er it.” His friend gave him a dark look. “I’m not a man to play a woman false. I can’t pretend to feel that way for her. I know she’s seventeen, but she’s still a wee lassie to me, Josh.”

“Don’t you break her heart.”

“Half of the attraction is Ma. Laney misses her mama, so when she comes here, the warmth fills her up. ’Tis understandable that she wants to gather it all in and be a part of it. In time, she’ll see she can have all of the attention she craves from Ma without having to be shackled to me.”