Opal waited, but when nothing more was said, she continued on out the back door. Just who Jacob Chandler was seemed to be a question on more minds than hers.
Ruby stood at the post on the back porch watching the sunrise gild the leaves of the oak and cottonwood trees and turn spider webs into masterpieces of diamond-sparkled strands. The rooster crowed, a robin greeted the dawn with song, a meadowlark strewed song pearls on the breeze.
She started to move but paused, her hand finding its way to her belly to cup the new life she’d just felt flutter. Life in her womb, such an inexpressible joy. Mornings like this she knew how Mary had felt and why she said, ‘‘My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior.’’
Lord, how can
I thank you enough?
She had so much to be thankful for. House and home, Rand, her family, friends, the produce of the garden, land and river, this place, where they dwelled far from the city and with a beauty that caught one’s breath and made songs of praise not be a sacrifice but a joy. ‘‘My soul indeed magnifies the Lord.’’
‘‘Talking to yourself again?’’ Rand stopped behind her and, like the touch of a butterfly, kissed that certain spot on the back of her neck. A spot that sent shivers clear to her toes and fingertips. ‘‘How about running away with me, you lithesome lady, you?’’
He wrapped both arms around her, crossing his hands over her mounding front.
‘‘Fie, sweet sir, lithesome will not be the case for long.’’ She leaned her head back against his shoulder. ‘‘I felt the baby move.’’
‘‘Ah, my love. So much to be thankful for.’’
‘‘That’s just what I was saying. Look, Rand, just look at all we have. And are.’’
‘‘I know. Sometimes I feel almost guilty for all the blessings we’ve been given. We work our hearts out for it, but still, I can’t ask for more.’’
‘‘Nor I.’’
‘‘Ma?’’
She turned and kissed Rand right under his mustache. ‘‘Your son calls.’’
‘‘We could leave Opal in charge and ride up the river a way. Just the two of us. It won’t be long before you’re too big to ride.’’
‘‘You think I should?’’
‘‘Do you mean able or according to the mores of the day?’’
‘‘I don’t give a fig about what’s proper anymore. The question is, would it hurt the baby?’’
‘‘Indian women ride when they are big as a bass drum. That is, if they can find a horse the men aren’t using.’’
‘‘How do you know?’’
‘‘I have eyes.’’
‘‘M-a-a?’’
‘‘Coming, Per. Hang on.’’
‘‘Think about it.’’
‘‘A day away. Just us? What’s to think about? Of course I want to go.’’
Even though riding is not my favorite thing, as it is Opal’s,
being alone with my husband would be the perfect gift on a perfect day
.
‘‘Don’t you go changing your mind.’’
‘‘I’ll pack our meal.’’ She ducked under his arm and headed for the hall to the bedrooms. Peeking into Opal’s room, she was not surprised to find the bed made and clothes hung on their pegs. Opal was most likely down milking.
She swooped Per out of his bed and blew against his neck to make him laugh. ‘‘What a good boy you are.’’
‘‘Ma good?’’
‘‘Yes, Ma is good. Are you hungry?’’
‘‘Hungry.’’ He nodded and stuck his finger in her mouth as she leaned over him to change his diaper.
‘‘One of these days we are going to have to train you to no more diapers. You can go in the pot like a big boy.’’
‘‘Pot.’’
‘‘August is almost over, and school will soon be starting. With Opal gone all day at school, what are you going to do?’’
‘‘Do.’’
‘‘One of these days, and sooner than I think, you’ll be talking up a storm. We better be getting some clothes sewn for Opal. She can’t go to school in britches. That’s for sure.’’
And the gowns she
brought back from New York aren’t suitable for school out here.
She picked up the baby and settled him on her hip, one arm around him and the other hand carrying the diaper out to the pail on the porch. Time to wash again. How could she take the day off and go with Rand? What dreamers they were.
‘‘In every thing give thanks.’’
The Bible verse floated through her mind as she sliced the smoked venison haunch to fry for breakfast. Today was so easy to give thanks, but what about the days that weren’t so easy? And for certain there would be more. Life was just like that, with the ups and downs. Like being so big again she couldn’t see her feet, let alone button her shoes. Like the days and nights she had struggled with a new baby, never getting enough rest, even though Little Squirrel helped so much.
Lord, I know Paul wrote of praise when he was in prison and had been
beaten. Prison to me is the winter when the blizzard comes or when the
children get sick. Please remind me when I grumble that I should praise
you instead
.
‘‘Ma-a?’’ A spoon banging on the table accompanied his request.
How much easier it will be when he can talk and tell me what he
wants
. She handed Per a crust of bread she’d baked hard just for him.
‘‘Ruby, I strained the milk,’’ Opal said, entering the kitchen. ‘‘Are you churning butter today? There’s a lot of cream.’’
‘‘Opa!’’ Per tried pushing away from the table and banged against his chair back when he couldn’t move. His mother had tied the belt tight enough. ‘‘Opa-a.’’ He raised his arms, reaching for her, pleading for his freedom.
‘‘I’ll be right back. Just a minute.’’
His wail followed her out the door.
Ruby placed the last of the slices in the frying pan and crossed to her whimpering son. His lower lip protruded, and he squeezed his eyes to force a tear, much against its will.
She dropped a kiss on his thistledown hair. ‘‘Big boy, Per. Eat your toast.’’
He sniffed and dug in his lap for the treat, then waved it at her when he found it.
Ruby returned to the stove to turn the sizzling meat, grateful the meat fragrance didn’t force her to make a run to the outside, as she’d done so many mornings a few weeks ago.
Thanks for
reminding me, Lord, of one more thing to be grateful for
.
Rand and the hands came in through the back door and took their places at the table.
‘‘Start with the oatmeal.’’
Little Squirrel nodded and gave the kettle an extra stir before ladling the cereal into the bowls stacked to warm on the reservoir.
‘‘Let’s say grace.’’ Rand paused while Opal slid into her chair. ‘‘Father in heaven, let us ever be thankful for all you have given us, for home and health and the work we love. Thank you, and bless this food and the hands that so lovingly prepared it. Grant us this day an opportunity to grow in grace. Amen.’’
What did he mean by that? Ruby pondered her husband’s words as she beat the eggs after cracking them in the bowl. An opportunity to grow in grace today? Had the others heard what she did? She’d have to ask him later.
‘‘Opal said she’d help in the house, so we can leave shortly.’’ Rand dropped the information like a pebble into a pool of water.
‘‘But I—’’ Ruby glanced up in time to catch a raising of his eyebrows and a slight tilt of his head, a sign that he was prepared to fight for what he’d said.
Lord, how do I get it all done today? Opal hates housework, and I
can’t say as I blame her. I’d rather be outside today too.
So you have the opportunity. Take it
. The gentle voice contained a hint of scolding and a heap of reminder. Rand had plenty of work to do today too, and yet he’d rather take her for an outing.
She swallowed her denial and, after a deep breath, nodded. ‘‘I’d love to go. Thank you, Opal.’’
And you
, her eyes shouted down the table to her husband.
The look he sent back made her insides mush up. Reminders of his love did that to her.
When they finished eating, Rand gave out the orders for the day to the men, and they all pushed back from the table.
‘‘You need firewood?’’ Linc asked.
‘‘Both here and at the washtub, thank you.’’
‘‘I put diapers on to boil.’’ Little Squirrel looked to Opal.
‘‘I’ll start with the dishes. Per can help me churn on the back porch,’’ Opal said.
‘‘The beans need picking too. Let’s dry this last batch for britches and then the rest can go for shelled beans.’’ Ruby set the dishes in the pan.
‘‘You want to hang them on the strings on the porch?’’ Opal fetched a wet cloth and wiped Per’s hands and face, something he liked about as much as getting his diaper changed. ‘‘Hold still, you squirmer, you.’’
‘‘Ma-a.’’
‘‘I’m not helping you. Be good for Opal.’’ Ruby stopped to hug Opal as she went by. ‘‘Yes, just dry them on the strings, and thank you.’’
‘‘You’re welcome. Have fun.’’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘‘Even though I know you’d rather take the wagon than ride.’’
Ruby winked at Opal, now as tall as she was. ‘‘Won’t be much longer that I can do this, and it makes Rand happy.’’
‘‘You could go fishing.’’
‘‘You could can beans too.’’
‘‘Just thought I’d suggest it.’’ Opal raised her eyebrows and half shrugged.
Ruby laughed to herself as she headed to her bedroom to change into the leather divided skirt she’d gotten from Belle. So what if she couldn’t button the waist. It would still stay up.
Rand had the horses ready at the hitching post in front of the house when she stepped outside.
‘‘I have our dinner.’’ He held up the saddlebags before he slung them over Buck’s back and tied them in place.
‘‘I need to say good-bye to Per.’’
‘‘He’s busy out with Opal. Why not leave him be?’’
Ruby thought a moment. ‘‘I can’t do that.’’
What if something
happened to me, to us, and—
She cut off that line of thinking and hurried through the house. The dishes steamed in the dishpan on the stove, evidence that Opal had left to do something else.
Can I depend on her? Of course I can. When Opal gives her word, she
lives up to it
. A thought stopped her in midstep.
I’ve never left Per
before. I could take him with us. He would love to go. He loves to ride
. She half turned to go ask Rand, then changed her mind. Would this be harder on Per or her?
What if something happens to me?
This thought returned on the attack, sharper than the first time. After all, danger lurked everywhere out here in Dakotah Territory. As if it didn’t in New York.
She had asked for a break one day, and now, when it came, she was dithering like a sheet on the clothesline set to dancing and flapping in the wind.
‘‘Come on, Ruby, the horses are getting restless.’’ Rand’s call made her smile again. Of course, the horses were getting restless because he was.
Taking herself firmly in hand, she stepped through the back door to see Opal coming from the springhouse, a bucket of cream to dump in the churn in one hand and Per’s little fist in her other. She was telling him something, and he smiled up at her like the sun rose on his Opa. Little Squirrel had the fire going under the washtub and was carrying another bucket of water from the well.
Bees buzzed in the rosebush by the step. Ghost looked up from her nest in the shade of the rose, checked her charge, and lay back down with a sigh. Of contentment? All was well.
Ruby nodded and stepped off the porch to meet Opal and Per. ‘‘Bye. We’ll be back before supper.’’ She stooped over and kissed Per on top of the head. ‘‘You be good.’’
He nodded. ‘‘Good.’’
‘‘Thank you, I think.’’ She shrugged as she looked at Opal.
‘‘We’ll be fine. Go play.’’ Opal nodded toward the churn. ‘‘Open that for me, would you please, and then get out of here before Rand comes after you.’’
Within minutes Ruby found herself settling into a gentle jog as her horse carried her toward the trail up the east bank of the Little Missouri River. Rand reached for her hand and grinned at her, the broad brim of his hat shading his eyes but unable to dim the love shining there.
‘‘Thanks for coming.’’
‘‘Thanks for making me.’’
‘‘You’re welcome.’’
She’d forgotten how much she could enjoy a ride with Rand. He pointed out the cattle gathered under the shade of an ancient oak tree, placidly chewing their cuds while keeping a watchful eye on the riders. He showed her a ledge where an eagle had her nest, the young already fledged and flying free. They both laughed when a covey of grouse burst from the brush with a whir of wings, startling them. He showed her the entry to a fox den that was nearly hidden by a thicket of bushes.
When they stopped for an early dinner, the sun had yet to reach its zenith, but she was more than ready to dismount.
‘‘I don’t know how you men ride all day and are still able to walk without staggering.’’ She clutched his arm after trying one step.
‘‘Take it easy. You’ll be fine in no time.’’ He left her to stand while he pulled off the saddles and bridles and hobbled the two horses. Then he guided her to the shade of an ancient cottonwood with bark ridges so deep on the trunk that one could bury a finger in them. ‘‘Sit here.’’ He spread the saddle blankets while he spoke.
‘‘I’ll stand, thank you.’’
‘‘Suit yourself.’’ He crossed his ankles and sat with such easy grace she laughed.
‘‘I don’t know how you do that.’’
‘‘Do what?’’
‘‘Sit down cross-legged like that.’’
He shrugged. ‘‘Easy.’’ Patting the blanket beside him, he smiled up at her. ‘‘Come, be comfortable.’’
‘‘May I lean against you?’’ She eyed the tree trunk he leaned against. ‘‘That looks too rough for comfort.’’
‘‘You may lean on me anytime and for all time.’’
Her gaze caught on his and refused to let go. The flutter in her middle had nothing to do with the baby, but came along with a warmth she’d come to recognize as her loving response to this man. Sometimes she wondered at the strength of it. After all, they’d been married three years now. But all such thoughts flew up to join the birds as she nestled into the curve of his arm.
‘‘Are you hungry?’’ She glanced over at the saddlebags.